#''which 'm-hm' is that? because you have two different responses that sound means''

[magentagalaxies]

chatted with bruce on zoom today!! apparently in addition to announcing the buddy cole doc at his rivoli show he also promoted it in a sirius xm interview he did about the new sketch show he's executive producing (the dessert)!! which is so freaking cool like he's using his platform for a bigger show he's working on to promote a doc i'm directing??? omg???

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offense, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their overreactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)

a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?

--

"Can you pick me up tonight?"

"Mhm. What are you wearing?"

A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"

"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."

"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."

He hung up. 

White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.

Fuck!

Again?

"I need to talk to you, noona."

"Get out."

Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.

Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.

Blergh.

You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.

"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.

"I gotta ask you something."

His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car. 

Where the fuck was the correct guy?

"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."

Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing. 

You raised an eyebrow. 

"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."

"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly. 

What?

"What?"

You made a face at him.

He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”

Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.

Naked.

You mentally slapped yourself.

“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.

Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.

Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.

“Noona.”

He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.

“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”

The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.

Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.

A single, cocked eyebrow.

“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.

“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.

“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”

Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.

“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.

“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He looked positively beside himself with glee.

Hmph. Fine.

His loss.

“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.

Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”

“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”

Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.

So convenient.

You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.

Fucking tease.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”

You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”

“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.

Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.

Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.

“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.

“Red.”

-

“N-noona?”

You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.

“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”

Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.

You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.

“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”

“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.

Except.

Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.

“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.

“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.

You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”

Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.

“I-I’ll look you help.”

You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.

“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.

He’s hopeless.

Well, better than going alone.

Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.

You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.

“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.

You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.

“Hold on.”

Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.

“I’ll just step over him.”

Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.

Sigh.

And, yep, you were right.

Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?

You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.

“Get off him.”

The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.

“Out.”

She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.

You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”

The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”

“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.

“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”

You slapped her.

Hard.

Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”

She squeaked at you.

Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.

She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.

It did, because you had enough at this point.

“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook’s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”

“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”

Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.

“When did you wake up?”

Yoongi smirked.

You frowned.

“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”

A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.

“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”

“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”

You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”

Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.

“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

Oh right.

Jungkook was still here.

You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.

“What are you still doing here?”

His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.

“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.

“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I told you he liked you.”

You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.

“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”

There was a moment of silence.

If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.

The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.

“No, noona.”

His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Silence.

He must be joking.

“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.

Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.

“Hyung knows this. I told him.”

You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”

“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”

He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face. 

"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.

You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.

"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."

He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.

"Speak for yourself, grump."

Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered. 

"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.

"No."

Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.

It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.

"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"

Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey. 

"We did."

You clicked your tongue.

Great. Just great. 

"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."

"An accident," you hissed. 

Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."

"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him. 

"This hand, in fact."

Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.

You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.

You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting. 

Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.

Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi. 

You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips. 

A beat passed. 

Your gaze locked with his. 

Don't you dare, Min Yoongi. 

He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso. 

You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers. 

You gulped. 

"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."

Yoongi chuckled. 

"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."

Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.

"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly. 

You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep. 

"I'm not taking anything," you whispered. 

Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back. 

Why wasn't he taking a step back?

Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly. 

He could make you do anything when his voice became like that. 

"I'm telling you to take it."

Your mouth went dry.

"Why?"

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.

"Because you feel good when you do bad things."

God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy. 

"And I love watching you do bad things."

Dark orbs glittering with trouble. 

"I’m here with you."

I’m here with you.

His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.

"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"

Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.

Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

"Whatever it takes."

Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.

“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”

And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.

Jungkook smelled good.

You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”

Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.

“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.

For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?

“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”

You didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“I could feel everything.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.

“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”

His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.

“Make my dreams real.”

Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.

“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.

You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.

Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.

You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.

So wrong, but so, so fucking good.

You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.

The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.

Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.

Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.

You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.

“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.  

Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Let him see the tits.”

You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.

“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.

You lowered your hands.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”

You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”

“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”

Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.

You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.

You pointed to your other nipple.

“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”

Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.

“More, Jungkook…”

He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.

Yoongi against your back, purring your name.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”

Fuck, his satoori, his words.

Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.

“Mm, fuck, fuck…”

You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”

Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”

And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.

“Have a taste.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.

“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.

Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.

Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.

You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.

“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”

“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.

“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”

You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.

“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.

“You planned this.”

“Did I?”

Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.

“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”

His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.

“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”

Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.

“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”

Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.

“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”

“You didn–”

Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.

For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.

Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.

Your breathing caught in your throat.

Or maybe.

Maybe both of you had already fallen.

And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.

“Put it on him.”

You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.

“H… How do I…?”

“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.

“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.

“Do I just…?”

“Down.”

He missed.

“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”

Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.

“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”

“Push,” Yoongi instructed.

Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”

“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”

“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”

Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”

Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.

Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.

You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.

Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.

“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.

“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Your chest tightened.

You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.

“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.

Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.

And you wanted it.

Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.

“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”

Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”

“Mhm. Go harder.”

Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you su–?”

“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.

“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”

Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”

“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.

Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”

“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”

You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.

“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.

“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.

“Alright, stop for a second.”

Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.

Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.

“Give him a hug.”

You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.

“Oh, fuck me…”

Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.

Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”

Oh, fuck.

You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.

“A-ah, Yoongi!”

“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.

“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”

Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.

“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.

“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”

You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.

Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.

“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”

He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.

Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.

“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”

You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.

“Give me a minute, fuck.”

Shit, you just wanted to sleep.

-

third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

[luxwritesfanfic]

400 LUX

Sherlock wants to cut things off but the reader thinks he should really think it over. Or, the one where Sherlock isn’t one for saying “I love you”, but he has always offered you a sword. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You could hear the water running in the bathroom as you slipped down the hall to make coffee, your phone in one hand pressed against your ear as Mary went on and on about all the things that you two needed to do today and the other hand held your shear kit that you barely used. It was a few days  before the wedding and things were in full swing for you as Mary’s bridesmaid and Sherlock as the best man. Mary, God bless her, was having a breakdown every other day and it was all you could do to not to set her off by picking the red velvet with buttercream over the vanilla cupcakes.

“— and we need to go by the florist today, too, and I probably should stop by and speak to the DJ... and John, he’s not worried about any of it! He’s asking for tea and biscuits as if I’m not already balancing the most important day of our lives!” Mary was talking at a mile a minute and as she continued the never ending list of tasks she had set for the two of you, you began situating all of your supplies to cut Sherlock’s hair. He had insisted you do it before the wedding, and not even your lack of experience was enough to convince him to just go to the shop with John. Sherlock’s hair was something he took very seriously so you were unsure as to why he’d even ask you to do this.

Speaking of the devil, you rounded the hallway and started for the bathroom.

“One second Mare.” She didn’t miss a beat and continued right on talking once you muted her, and you wondered if this is how John felt talking to Sherlock. Knocking on the door before walking in, you fought through the steam to find a comb on the counter.

“If we’re going to be in here at the same time, you might as well join me.” Sherlock’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, his hair and face sudsed up and glistening from the water. The longer you realized you had actually been thinking about taking him up on his offer, the quicker you knew that you had to get back to your task at hand and get out of the line of fire. You pulled open some of the drawers and rummaged through them.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.” Hoping that the steam was thick enough to hide your growing blush, you turned back to the vanity and opened the mirror cabinet. “I need you to hurry up. Mary’s having a-“

“You would, too.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and that was enough to make you roll your eyes. Luckily for you, the mirror door was hiding your face from his prying eyes. Smug and darling as always, your man was. You snuck a peek at him and realized he’d moved back from the curtain and resumed washing his hair.

“Seriously, Mary will probably have a heart attack if I don’t leave within the hour. If you love me, five minutes.” You shut the cabinet and slipped out of the room to finally return to your phone call.

“Sorry M, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sherlock is being Sherlock.”

“Now you’re really starting to sound like John. How’s his suit fit? Does he need any adjustments? That reminds me, I should call the tailor! Be a doll and bring something to eat on the way? Love you!” With that she hung up, leaving you in the dust trying to comprehend if she actually was speaking words or Simlish.

—

“Four minutes, fourteen seconds.”

You turned back to him while you gestured for him to sit down so you could wrap the towel around his shoulders. His hair was still pretty wet so you wouldn’t have to spray it much.

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock only smiled to himself in response, and you figured he’d just moved on from that conversation already. Combing out small sections of his hair and clipping the rest up, you asked again.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I really don’t mind going to your usual stylist with you. I don’t want to mess you up for the wedding.”

“Y/N, I told you already, if I’ve asked you to do it it’s because I want for you to do it. It’s only just a trim. Come on with it.

So you began at that, snipping away little by little. You had cut John’s hair for him a few times right before a date but his was much easier than Sherlock’s and it grew like a weed so even if you did mess up, his date could hardly tell. You told Sherlock all about your plans with Mary for the day and he seemed to be listening intently but you could tell his mind was wandering. You knew him better than you knew yourself.

Moving to stand in between his legs to trim his face framing pieces, you asked him about his plans for the day.

“Hm,” he started, resting his fingers tips lightly on your hips in front of him, tapping away as he thought out his answer. “Mycroft insists he has words for me, despite my telling him to keep them to himself, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him at some point. John is coming here to talk wedding...” which you were almost certain really meant a case, “and I want to tell Mrs. Hudson you’ve decided to give up your flat entirely to live here.”

You had just finished trimming his hair when he had said that and luckily so because you were sure you would have chopped off a lot more than needed being caught by surprise like that. Running your fingers through his hair to be sure you didn’t miss any sections, you contemplated what exactly was happening between you. You had never really brought up completely moving in even though it was true that you practically already did. You hadn’t slept in your own bed in months because you always chose the opportunity to sleep with Sherlock. Moving in seemed like a dream but you always had it in the back of your mind that one day Sherlock would have a change of heart and change his mind on whatever the two of you were, and you didn’t want to be without if that happened.

When he realized you still hadn’t replied to his request, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you. “Is there really that much to think about? John said you’d say yes if I made it clear I was the one asking you to. Had I not done that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, because seriously, what could you have possibly done to deserve the opportunity to love someone as... well, Sherlock, as Sherlock. He was everything everyone said he was, but he had shown you willingly that he was also so much more. You’d choose the life with him, whether it was one of a house and kids and a white picket fence or if it was one that consisted of running around London in the rain because Sherlock swore he saw something suspicious and the only viable option was to run after it. You would choose him. Every single time.

Even with all of your declarations of love, you two had never said talked about the fact that you were definitely exclusively dating which often hindered a conversation of the future. You had told him you loved him more times than you could count but he had never said it back and you were okay with that. He didn’t have to reciprocate it for it to be true. But, it did leave room for doubt that this might not always be what Sherlock chooses.

You thought of all the ways you could bring it it up and realized that straightforwardly was the only way to go. You brought your hands from his hair to hold his face and rubbed your thumbs in slow circles and he relaxed on the spot. He was putty in your hands, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I just don’t want you to feel stuck with me. It’s a big step. And if it ends up making you miserable, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want to be the one to make you miserable.” Your voice was soft as you spoke and you realized that with Sherlock’s bangs being much shorter now, you got to see more of his pretty face. Although, currently, it was contorted as he worked through trying to comprehend what you were saying to him. Blinking away at you for what seemed like forever, Sherlock cleared his throat and took your hands from his face and into his own instead.

“I’m... not sure I understand. I don’t mean to be rude at your expense but if I wanted to leave you, I would. I could rather easily. Just as easily as you could leave me. But you won’t. And I won’t... I’ve tried to show you in all the ways I know how. So would it not make sense for us to live together?”

It slowly started making sense for you and you could slap yourself for being so blind. Sherlock had let you take the lead in a lot of aspects in his life recently that you couldn’t explain what for. He urged you to pick out the next case he would work, allowed you to pick out his new microscope (Y/N, they’re the same color. Pick one. I don’t know Sherlock! I feel like this one is cool grey and this one is light grey, it makes a difference!), and now you were cutting his hair, the most important part of his appearance from his point of view. He trusted you to make the right choice every time and there really was no right choice, your choice was the right choice.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you phone began to ring with Mary’s picture posted on the screen.

“Shit, I’m so late! She’s seriously going to kill me.” Your gaze drifted from your phone to Sherlock who surprisingly patiently awaiting your answer. “Tell Mrs. Hudson as soon as John gets back from holiday that you two will start moving my stuff over. And make a little space for me in your closet, okay? I need more than just a few drawers.”

Sherlock smiled at you like you like he did when you called him brilliant and that was your highest honor to date.

You expected the usual slick remark but he simply said, “You’ll have what you want. Mary will be calling again in about 30 seconds. You should really be hailing a taxi right about now.”

And there he was, the Sherlock you wouldn’t change for the world. You wished you had time to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but alas, duty calls. You kiss him like you mean it- because you do, and rush off to your friend’s rescue but not without stopping in the doorway.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes. But even more importantly than that, I trust you. I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you and I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it if you’d let me. It’s nice to know that you will. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Just like that, you turn his world upside down as you rush down the stairs, leaving him speechless. He thought his story was one that would be written about him and him alone and as sure as he used to be in that, he’d come to the realization that he was just as sure that two was better than one.

“And I, you.”

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

-

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'Manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'Manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offence, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar-free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their over reactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

[radiosandrecordings]

i’m almost scared to ask this due to the angst potential but 22 with jm, please?

You blessed me with a Good Martin earlier, I’ll spare you from the angst storm (I have nooo ulterior motives here, me, who doesn’t like writing angst? None whatsoever)

Set in some nebulous no-powers au where they get to go home from a Normal Date. Thank you @horngryeyes for letting me just message him asking for Polish swears 

22) Things you said after it was over

“I had a really nice time tonight.” 

Martin smiled as Jon leaned closer into his side, joined hands between them stilling from their gentle swing, purely because they no longer had space to with Jon cosied up against him. “I’m glad, I had a wonderful time as well.” 

The restaurant they had been to had been close to Martin’s apartment, and so they were currently on their way to the nearest tube station for Martin to see him off safely. They proceeded to walk in a comfortable silence for several minutes, the comforting presence of the other at their side driving off the chill of the early Spring evening. 

It was only when they reached the entrance to the tube station and Martin’s eyes drifted to the screen displaying a digital clock did they realise something was wrong. 

“Wait, what?” Jon vocalised his concern before Martin, a furrow forming on his brow. “That can’t be right.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glared at the lock screen. The harsh white light illuminated exactly the same numbers as those staring back down at them in green LED from the wall of the station. 1:06AM. Aka, past the time any of the trains were running in Jon’s direction home. 

“How? I checked as we were paying, we were getting ready to leave the restaurant at 11:40, it can’t have taken us over an hour to walk here, it was barely a mile!” 

“... Jon what day is it?” 

“What?” 

“Just, check for me?” 

Jon hit the button again and his phone screen lit up. “Just turned over to the 28th. Is that anything?” 

“Spring forward, fall back, kurde,” Martin muttered under his breath. “Of course. Just our luck. Clocks just went forward for British Summertime. So we essentially just lost an hour, and it’s now one as opposed to just gone twelve. So... No trains.” 

“... No trains” 

There was a silence for a moment, breath starting to cloud in front of them as they breathed in the cool night air, rapidly getting colder. The silence was broken by the sound of Jon typing, fingers quickly skimming over his phone as he began trying to search for alternatives. “Buses maybe? I think they’re still running but I’m not sure if there’s any going my route....” 

Another few seconds passed of Jon hurriedly typing and Martin chewing his lip. Eventually, he managed to muster up the courage to speak, “I mean.. You could always come back to mine?” 

And immediately, his mind was racing with all the different reasons for why he shouldn’t have said that. This was only their third official date, was that too soon to invite Jon back to his house? They weren’t even technically dating yet, there was still a certain degree of casual about their relationship, they weren’t actually boyfriends. God, what if Jon misunderstood what he was saying? They’d had that conversation even before they’d started seeing each other, one friend trusting another with an intimate detail of their life. Martin didn’t want Jon to think he’d forgotten, or worse, was disregarding it. And even past those two points, Jon was technically still his boss -  Logically he knew if they were breaking any kind of office conduct they would have done so three dinners ago, but this felt different, to invite someone to your home felt far more vulnerable, and serious. 

“Uh- That’s okay, Martin I wouldn’t want to impose...”

Martin isn’t quite sure where he got the courage to continue. Normally he’d take Jon’s response to heart, overthink it, and end up interpreting it as ‘I don’t want to do that and am trying to let you down easy’. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine he’d had at dinner, or some spirit of the moment daring, but whatever it is possessed him long enough for him to say “You wouldn’t be imposing. Actually, I would rather like you to be there?”

Jon looked slightly stunned for a moment, before Martin began to see a faint flush darken his cheeks. “Oh, uhm...” A spike of anxiety shot through Martin as Jon dipped his head to cough into his fist, but when he drew it away again he looked somewhat... Bashful? “Well, if... Yes, okay then. I would like to be there as well.” 

“Good.”

“Good.” 

“Good.” 

There was another few beats of silence before both, tipsy on averagely-priced wine and drunk on nervous energy, lapsed into childish giggles. “Lead the way, Mr Blackwood,” Jon crooned, leaning into his arm again, and Martin knew he was joking, playful atmosphere being allowed to overtake the anxious one between them, but he rather liked the sound of that. 

It was another ten minutes of walking further to get back to Martin’s flat, and Jon only managed to stumble over his own two feet once, which may have been partially due to his own three glasses of red setting in, or just the fact that it was rather awkward to walk when trying to merge with the coat of the man beside you. 

“It’s uhm, sorry if it’s a little messy, I wasn’t expecting company, obviously,” Martin apologised as he fumbled with the key in the lock. 

“’M sure it’s fine.” Jon’s speech was getting a little messier now, but really only to the degree that was notable by Standard Jon English. He wasn’t quite at the swaying on his feet stage yet, but he was blinking sleepily, a small, content smile playing gently at his lips. 

As he stepped in the door, Martin shrugged his coat off and hung it by the door, gesturing an invitation for Jon to do the same, which he accepted. Martin took his hand again to lead him inside, but let go again soon enough to step into the small alcove of the kitchen to fetch two glasses and fill them at the sink. “I think we could both use these,” he said softly, handing one to Jon, who took it gratefully. They sipped their water in silence for a moment, enjoying the relative peace and warmth that being inside afforded them. They didn’t sit, both just leaned against the wall while Jon took in the contents of a bookshelf and Martin watched him do so, both with equal levels of intrigue. 

Eventually, the silence was broken by the muffled sound of a yawn from Jon, who tried to cover it with one hand. “Right, maybe time for bed then?” Martin suggested, taking the glass from him and putting them both beside the sink to deal with tomorrow. 

When he returned Jon was hovering around the couch, like he wanted to take a seat but was unsure how to go about doing so. “You okay?” 

“Oh, uhm, yes, I just... You wouldn’t happen to have a spare blanket, would you?” 

“What?” 

“Sorry to be a bother I just- Never mind, it’s fine. Good night, Martin.” 

“...What?” 

“I- I’m sorry did I do something wrong?” 

“No, just... C’mon, bedrooms this way.” 

“Oh!” And there was that flush again, more visible under the lights of the flat than it had been under streetlamps. 

“... Jon, did you think I was going to make you sleep on the sofa?” Martin felt his voice trail slightly upwards at the end, struck both by humour and concern. 

“I didn’t want to presume!” Jon said, shaking his hands out. “Um... Okay then, lead the way.” 

Martin smiled, before doing the mental math and squinting. “Two seconds?” He said, before quickly making his way into the bedroom and doing his best to make the room look as presentable as possible within a short amount of time. A minute or two later he opened the door again, and Jon made his way inside. 

His room wasn’t anything special, just a standard bedroom in a low quality apartment, but the duvet and quilt had been straightened and clothes haphazardly strewn about the room had been banished into the laundry basket, and the lamp on his bedside table was casting a soft yellow glow about the room, making the room feel warm and cosy. 

Jon just kind of stood there for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to do next, before Martin realised what was wrong with the picture. “Oh, uhm, clothes, do you want to borrow a shirt or something?” 

The words were out of Martin’s mouth before he could really think through the implications of them, practicality and comfort overriding the realisation that Jon borrowing his shirt would mean Jon, in his bed, wearing his clothes. 

“That would be good, thank you.” 

Martin attempted to keep his composure by going over to his drawers and rooting around for two shirts, one for himself and one for Jon. “I’d offer you bottoms too but I’m not really sure they’d fit, is that okay?” Martin said, turning to hand Jon a shirt. He wasn’t sure what Jon was comfortable with, where boundaries lay yet, he didn’t want to force Jon into something that overstepped.

“I think that should be fine,” Jon said, and Martin breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Right, uh, do you want to take the bathroom and I’ll...?” 

“Okay, sure, sure.” 

Jon made his way through the other door in the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Martin was just finished changing into his own pyjamas when a knock came from the other side of the door, startling him slightly. “Oh, finished!” 

The door opened, and Jon walked into the room. Now, Martin had known, theoretically, for the last three minutes that Jon had been gone that when he saw him again he would be standing in his bedroom wearing his shirt. But it was quite another thing to actually see it, soft golden lamplight reflecting against eyes that at this point were losing the fight to stay open, too-large shirt with a faded movie poster on it hanging loosely around his shoulders, panning down to boxers and bare feet on the wooden floor. Martin felt his breath catch in his throat slightly. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine. Do you, uhm, need anything?” 

“No, no, I’m fine thank you, I think I’m just about ready to pass out if it’s all the same to you.” 

“I can agree with that.” 

Jon kept his eyes on the bed, watching until Martin had walked over to his chosen side and pulled the covers back before padding round to the opposite and climbing in beside him. 

There were a few awkward moments where they both got comfortable. Martin hadn’t shared a bed with someone in quite a while, and it was an odd sensation to try and get used to again. “Pillows, do you- Is that enough?” 

“Two is more than fine, thank you Martin,” Jon said, cleaning back against them. 

“Right, well... Good night, Jon.” 

“Good night, Martin.” Jon said, voice barely above a whisper now as his eyes drifted closed. Martin took that as a cue to turn the light off. 

Martin had never been aware of how loud the analog clock hanging on his wall was until that moment, dull ticks making themselves thunderous in the silence between them. He must have counted to sixty several times over before Martin heard a rustling beside him, and felt the duvet twitch. 

“Martin?” If Jon’s goodnight had been a whisper, this was barely audible, but as it was Martin was so aware of every footstep of his neighbours, creaking of pipes, or car going past outside, it sounded like it was said directly into his ear. Which, really, wasn’t that far off, considering how close Jon was, lying on the pillow next to him.

“Mmmh?” 

“I.. Thank you, for today. For this.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for a date, Jon, that’s... I mean, not that I’m not tempted to thank you in return but that’s not how that works.” 

He rolled on to his side to face Jon, and was greeted by a face only a few inches away him his. “Oh. Hi.” 

Jon smiled. “Hi.” 

“Can I... Do you mind if...” Words failing him, Martin leaned forward. When Jon didn’t seem to retreat, he leaned further, until he was pressing a kiss to his brow. “Is... Is that okay?” 

There was a low rumbling from Jon’s throat, vibrating across the pillow. “More than okay. Encouraged, even,” Jon said, and suddenly he was pressing a kiss to Martin’s cheek in return. He searched under the duvet for a moment, before twining his fingers together with Martin’s, and proceeded to roll over to face away from him, dragging Martin’s arm with him until it was draped across him, gently cradling their bodies together. “Good night, Martin.”  

Yeah. Yeah, it was a pretty good night.

[seokjinsdisciple]

Pierced

nakamoto yuta x reader

yuta tries to surprise you with nipple piercings.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: sub yuta, mommy kink, nipple play, punishments, blindfolds, cock ring, rope, not much after care, idk i think thats it 

(as always let me know if i forgot anything)

a/n: this scenario was completely the only thing i could think about when i found out yuta had nipple piercings 

UNEDITED

Yuta knew you had an obsession with his piercings, almost as large of an obsession as you had with his nipples. The countless nights you've spent worshipping them on his body is proof enough of that. It was a decision made with far too many drinks, Johnny and Taeyong doing nothing but encourage Yuta to surprise you for your 2 year anniversary. So he got his nipples pierced. 

It was easier to hide at first, able to pass off his lack of touches as feeling under the weather. But as time went on you started noticing things he was doing very differently. His voice trembling each time he had to indirectly lie to you. Just when he thought you’d figured him out, it was time for the boys to go on tour, and he was saved from the pressure of having to keep that secret. When he got back however, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off one another. Which made it extremely difficult to hide what was under his hoodies. But he made it through, blaming insecurities and asking you to not touch his chest. You were confused, but he had set clear boundaries, and there was no way in hell you were going to break them. 

Yuta stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring the way the silver sparkled on his chest. He only had one more week to go, one more week before he could finally show you what he had been hiding for months. He stared at the jewelry, the sound of the shower amplified in his ears as he reached a tentative hand up. He gently ran the pad of his thumb across his nipple. He clenched the side of the bathroom sink, low groan leaving his lips at the jolt of pleasure that coursed through him. 

His nipples had always been sensitive, but the gentle touch that he had just experienced never making him as hard as he was now. Twitching in his sweats as his eyes fluttered shut. He hadn’t had the time to explore how they felt, nipples either too sore from not being healed fully or he was in a position where you could walk in. 

He knew the rules. He knew your rules and how he would be punished, but if Yuta was being honest with himself, that excited him even more. Besides, he didn’t think that he could help himself now, the pinch of his fingers enough to have him doubling over in pleasure. 

It was with several soft moans and a decision to fuck your no touching rules that he found himself in the shower. One palm wrapped tightly around his cock as the other gently played with his nipples. He could hardly stand up, knees so weak with the hum of pleasure he had to lean against the bathroom wall to support himself. He wasn’t even pumping his cock, just holding it, the only pleasure he was feeling coming from the sensation of gentle friction across his nipples. 

He was really working himself up now, moans increasing in volume as the pace in which he rolled his nipples got faster. He tugged his bottom lip in between his teeth, hot water cascading down his body as he played with himself. He was dangerously close to cumming when the door swung open.

“Hey Yu-” you spoke, bathroom door clicking shut as you entered the room, “The boys said you were showering and I figured since I’ve had a long day I would jo-,” you stopped, eyes drawn immediately to where Yuta had a hand wrapped around his furiously red dick, “What are you doing?”

“I-,” he said, hand dropping from his cock as he met your gaze, “It’s not what it looks like I swear.”

You just tutted at him, brow raising as you glanced pointedly at his twitching dick, “Is that so, baby boy? Because from where I’m standing it looks like you’re about to cum without permission.”

“I wasn’t-,” he said, eyes fluttering shut as the stream of water hit directly on his nipples. Fuck his nipples. With an unabashed moan he slapped his hands over them, your face of disbelief enough to make him burn with embarrassment. 

“Yu, get out of the shower,” you whispered, eyes trained to where his hands cupped his chest. 

He obeyed easily, already knowing he was in enough trouble for the night, not wanting to do anything else to upset you. You ignored his shiver, letting the droplets of water falling from his skin drop on to the bathmat as you stepped towards him. Hands enclosing both of his wrists and pulling. 

You weren’t ready for what you saw. You weren’t ready at all. The instant your eyes met with his red, puffy nipples, the shimmer of silver surrounding them, you were a goner. And so was he. 

“Is this why you haven’t been letting me touch you?” you asked. 

At his nod, you reached your hand out, gently touching them, trying to control the look of awe threatening to cross your face as a helpless whine ripped from his throat. 

“Oh my god,” you said, pinching his nipple in between your fingers and rolling it, “I’m going to absolutely ruin you.”

“It-it,” Yuta huffed, throwing his head back as you continued to work your fingers on his nipples, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

You hummed at him, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze as you asked, “How long have you been hiding this from me?”

“Like-like four months,” he stuttered, cock twitching at your angry gaze, “It’s why I’ve been acti-ing so weird lately.”

“So you mean to tell me,” you whispered, dragging your hand from one piercing to another, “that not only were you touching yourself without permission, but you’ve been lying to me for four months?”

He just nodded at you, eyes dropping from your intense gaze. 

“And now you’re not using your words?” you tsked, using your hand to force him to look at you, “That’s not like my sweet angel.”

“M sorry,” he whispered, pout forming at your words. 

“You’re sorry who?” you asked, grip on his chin tightening. 

“I’m sorry, mommy,” he squirmed, another shiver racking through his body as the cool air surrounded his wet skin. You gently caressed his jaw, pressing a kiss to his lips before handing him a towel. 

“Dry off and meet me in your room,” you said, “you can prove to me just how sorry you are.”

You smirked to yourself as he scrambled to dry his limbs, leaving the frantic boy in the bathroom as you made your way to his room. Reaching under his bed to find the box of toys you kept here. When you felt your hand brush against the side, you pulled it out from underneath the bed, searching its contents for what you were looking for. You smiled as you wove the rope between your fingers, setting it on the bed as you pulled out Yuta’s favorite vibrator and a black blindfold. 

You tuned at the sound of the door opening, Yuta’s glowing skin still holding droplets of water in the toned spaces of his abs. He was buzzing as he stepped into the room, shy smile on his lips as he waited for you to say something. 

“For someone who’s about to get punished you look a little too excited,” You said, raising your brow at him, “Lock the door,” you said, keeping your eyes on him as he rushed to turn the lock, “sit.”

He shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel from his waist before sitting down. Yuta glanced over at the toys that sat next to him, nervousness showing on his face. He knew how cruel you could be, and he really wanted to cum. 

“Color?” you asked, cupping his face and forcing him to look away from the toys beside him. 

“Green,” he shuddered, already missing your touch as you grabbed the rope. You gently pulled his hands behind his back, sitting across his lap as you tied them together with the rope. 

“Do you know how hard it has been for me not to touch your pretty little chest?” you asked, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “Here I thought it was because my baby boy was shy. Turns out you were just lying, hm?”

You pressed a kiss behind his ear, grinning as he shuddered. You left pretty marks down the column of his neck, causing his chest to heave with deep breaths. You let your tongue drag from his ear and into the crook of his neck, sucking gently as you made your way down to his chest. Lips pressing everywhere but where he wanted you. 

“That's why I think it’s fitting that you won’t be allowed to touch me,” you hummed, “Plus you’ve touched yourself plenty today. Don’t you think that's fair, peach?”

“But I wanna-” Yuta whined, shutting his mouth as soon as you shot him a glare, “Yes, mommy.”

“That’s better,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before returning your gaze to his nipples. “But you also wouldn’t let me see how pretty you look,” you said, faux contemplation on your face as you lightly flicked his piercing, Yuta’s cock twitching in response.

“I don’t think you should be able to see either,” you hummed, pulling the blindfold over his eyes. You climbed off of his lap then, taking the time to appreciate how good he looked right now. 

His skin was still damp, and there were marks of purple and red blooming on most of his chest and neck. And those goddamn piercings, making him glow more than he already did. The silver contrasting so prettily against his tanned skin. You watched in arousal as he squirmed where he sat, cock heavy and red as he tried to press his thighs together. 

“Mo-mommy please,” he whispered, hands trying to get out of the restraints. 

“Please what, baby?” you asked, reaching back into the box of toys and pulling out a cockring. 

“Please touch me,” he whimpered.

“Oh? But I thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” You asked, tone mocking, grinning as his cheeks flushed red. 

“No,” he whined, “Wanted you too but was trying to keep a secret.”

“You were lying,” you hissed, sliding the cock ring to the base of his dick, “And liars don't get what they want, even if they look so pretty.”

“So you’re just gonna make me sit here?” he asked, voice breaking at the thought of not being touched for hours. 

“I’m gonna do whatever it is I want to do to you,” you said, yanking his hair so his head was looking up to yours, “And you’re gonna take it like the good little bitch you are.”

He visibly shuddered at this, your fingers pinching his nipples not helping him contain any of his pleasure. He whimpered as you flicked one of them, loud whine leaving his lips as he sagged at your lack of attention. 

“Go ahead baby boy,” you said, “you wanna touch yourself so badly, go ahead,” you taunted him, all of the places you had been giving him physical touch gone as you watched him wiggle in his bonds. 

“Mommy, please,” he whined, shoulders shaking as he tried to break out of the ties you had put him in. You cooed at him when you noticed the tears on his cheeks, his whimpers to please be touched making you cave just a moment. 

You gently caressed his cheek, wiping the stray tears with your thumb, “Do you think you can come from just me playing with your nipples, love?”

Yuta nodded furiously at you, whimpering as you pinched his nipple once again. 

“Use your words,” you scolded, gently rubbing your thumb on his cheek soothingly. 

“Ye-es, mommy,” he hiccuped, “I think I can.”

You cooed at him, “I knew you could you sweet boy,” you patted his cheek, “Cum from just your nipples and I‘ll reward you, angel.”

You pressed a comforting kiss to his temple, mouth pressing from his lips down the line of his jaw until you met with the crook of his neck. You took your time, placing hickey after hickey across his collar bones. You drank in the taste of his skin, slight gleam of sweat glistening on his desperate body. His chest was red and patchy, evidence not only of the arousal that was humming from his body but also the kisses you had been pressing all over his chest. 

You relished in the moans that Yuta let out as you wrapped your lips around his nipple. Tongue flicking over the metal that now adorned his chest. He let out a pathetic whine, desperate for more, evidenced by the bounce of his cock and the blush on his cheeks. The tip of his cock was flushed red, pulsing at the stimulation from just his nipples. 

He wiggled on the bed, desperately trying to touch either himself or you. Whines ripping from his throat as you played with both of his nipples. Lips wrapped carefully around one while your fingers deliberately pinched and pulled at the other. 

You watched as he threw his head back, a loud moan ripping from his throat as you tugged harshly on one of the sensitive buds. 

“What a good baby boy you are,” you hummed, pressing a kiss around one of his nipples as you teased your other hand on his taut stomach. You could feel the way that abdomen clenched and unclenched, a clear signal that he was close. 

“C’mon, sweet angel,” you said, licking a long stripe across one of the new piercings, “You can do it baby,” you praised, bringing your fingers back up to his other nipple. 

Yuta wiggled at your touch, moan after moan leaving his body at your constant attention. 

“Be a good boy and cum for me,” you said, eyes flicking up to where his was covered with the blindfold. You felt the way he quivered under your touch, feeling kind as you pulled the blindfold off of him. You couldn’t help but smile as you were met with his closed eyes, the sensations of his pleasure enough for him to not realize that the blindfold had been removed.

His eyes shot open as you tugged on his nipple with your teeth, a desperate groan leaving his lips as his eyes met with yours.

“Please don’t stop,” he begged, head falling forward as a quiet moan escaped his lips, “I’m so close, Mommy, please.”

“Then cum, angel,” you spoke, rubbing one nipple quickly in your hand. You rolled the other between your tongue and your teeth, not stopping until Yuta’s cock was spilling white streaks across his stomach. 

You gently kissed his nipple, making your way back up to his lips as he came down from his high. 

“What a good boy you are angel,” you praised, moving your mouth from his chest up to his lips, “So good cumming without being touched. Would you like mommy to reward you now baby boy?”

“Ye-es please,” he shook, abdomen tightening as his high still racked through him, “Want- want to make Mommy cum.”

“Mm,” you hummed, core throbbing at the reminder that you had been taking care of your baby all night long, “Are you sure you can handle taking care of me baby?”

“Yes mommy,” Yuta whined, shoulders desperately wiggling as he tried to get his hands on you, “Wanna make you feel good.”

You pressed kisses all over his face, distracting him with a kiss as you untied his hands from behind him. You held back a laugh as his arms immediately wrapped around you. Fingers digging into your skin as you kept peppering him with kisses. 

The whine that tore from Yuta’s throat was the loudest that he had allowed out tonight, nails digging into your skin as you slipped the cock ring from his length. 

“Please fuck me,” he begged, head dropping to your shoulder as you wrapped your hand around his already spent cock. He was still hard, yet perfectly overstimulated as you let your palm drag up and down his length. 

“You do deserve a reward, don’t you love,” you whispered, mouth meeting his earlobe as you guided him to your entrance. You pressed your lips to his as you sunk down. Effectively muffling your own moan, as well as Yuta’s as you bottomed out. 

You ran one hand through his hair, pulling roughly at the roots towards the base of his neck. Your other hand drifted between his chest, brushing over his nipples as you let him adjust in you. 

You ground your hips lightly against his at first, gauging his reaction before lifting your hips and slamming them down at a brutal pace. You moaned as he attached his lips to your neck, desperately trying to muffle his moans at the pace of hips hitting his. 

His nails dung into the skin of your hips, arms helping you bounce against him. You toyed with the piercings that adorned his chest, dragging moan after moan from his lips as ground your hips against his. 

Yuta whimpered into your chest as he brought a hand between where your bodies met. You couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth as his fingers found their way to your clit. 

You bounced up and down on his length, kisses turning into open mouth moans as he rubbed your sensitive spot. You let your fingers drag across his nipples, playing with the metal that adorned them. 

That was all it took to have him spilling inside of you, breath hitching as he couldn’t help but buck his hips to meet yours. The feeling of him spilling into you was enough to send you over the edge, fingers pulling at his hair as you shook on top of him. 

The two of you just sat, holding each other and catching your breath, smiles growing as you came down from your highs. Yuta pressed gentle kisses where he had his head buried in your chest. 

You couldn’t help but smile as he finally looked up at you. His lips bitten red and swollen from the kissing, with hickies visible on his shoulders, neck and chest. 

“I’m never going to be able to keep my hands off of you,” you sighed, pressing a kiss to his temple before gently standing from his length. He just laughed, reaching out his hands to help steady you before pulling you on top of his chest. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he whispered, hands running through your hair as another trailed the length of your back. 

“We should shower,” you huffed, trying your best to sit up. Yuta’s stomach let out a loud grumble as you shifted, and the two of you couldn’t help but giggle at the interruption, “and eat too, apparently.”

He just grumbled, allowing you to stand up from the bed before sitting up himself. He took one look into the mirror and let out a curse. 

“You left too many marks,” he whined, shuffling over to his dresser to grab some clothes, “the boys aren’t going to shut up about this.”

“You should’ve thought about that before misbehaving, angel,” you shrugged, giving him a shit-eating grin when you saw just how little his shirt hid any of the marks you had given him. 

The two of you made your way through the mostly quiet dorm, stopping into the kitchen for some snacks before heading back to Yuta’s room. 

You had made it through the hallway before being stopped in the living room by some of the boys. Jaehyun let out a whistle, looking Yuta up and down before bursting into laughter. 

“Taeyong is going to kill you both,” Taeil added, smile growing on his lips the longer he stared at the marks that were clearly displayed all over Yuta’s body, “We have schedules this week.”

“Shut up,” Yuta whined, flipping off the boys who were still trying to contain their laughs. 

“Why am I going to kill them?” A voice, Taeyong’s voice, said from behind the two of you. 

Before either of you could say anything, Taeyong was in front of you, mouth agape and eyes locked onto the marks on Yuta’s neck. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, “I take it you liked his piercings?”

“Uh-,” you started, glancing over at Yuta’s pink cheeks, “Yeah. I’m sorry, Yong. I won’t get so carried away next time.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you before adding, “Just next time do it somewhere none of us can see, ok?”

And god, if that didn’t give you ideas.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part V (x OC)

Summary: Maggie meets Diana, and it goes better than she expected. Maggie meets the team, and it doesn’t go completely as planned. Spencer’s spidey senses are tingling.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol/drinking, reader gets drunk on accident and is incredibly insecure and self-deprecating, I think that’s it

Word count: 5k

a/n: Thank you all for your kind words in this really sad and weird moment of my life. This couple brings me so much joy and I’m absolutely dreading the hurt that’s coming in the next part. Sorry in advance 😭 But also, you can re-read Lighthouse and First of Many before the angst!!!!!! If you haven’t read those fics, I recommend it because there are some relevant connections. ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

Maggie felt his hands sneaking around her waist, rubbing low over her tummy, and then the press of his warm body along her back. She tilted her head to make room for him to settle his chin on her shoulder, smiling as his hands completed their journey and wrapped her up tight. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she answered, pressing their cheeks together. 

“Are you almost done?”

“You made quite the mess, doctor.” It was the last weekend of Spencer’s sabbatical, and he had spent the afternoon cooking all of her favorite foods— a sort of preemptive gift for when he was back on the BAU’s unpredictable schedule. She’d taken on the responsibility of the dishes in return, which was no easy undertaking considering it seemed as though he’d used every single pot, pan, and utensil in her kitchen. 

“If you’d let me help, you’d be done by now,” he complained, hugging her a little tighter and turning his head to drag his lips across her cheek. 

“Let me just finish this pan, and then I’m all yours.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then another to the spot behind her ear, and one more to her shoulder. Then he propped his chin once more and rubbed his thumbs where they rested against her sides. 

She laughed a little as she ran the dish brush along the edges of the pan. “Comfy?”

He hummed his confirmation, and she could feel his smile as she lathered the inside of the pan, then rinsed it, and finally drained the sink. She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and turned to face him. He didn’t remove his hands, instead just let them glide over her hips and then settle on her lower back. 

“Thank you for all of that.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the fridge, packed full of leftovers. “My mom will be so honored to know you made her pot pie.” 

“I could eat it every day for the rest of my life and be very, very happy.” He dropped his gaze and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Speaking of moms, I… I was wondering if you, um— if you’d want to meet my mom?” 

Her eyes went a little wide, and he took her silence as an answer, continuing, “You don’t have to. It—it’s too soon.”

She brought a hand up to cup his chin between her fingers, bringing his eyes back to hers. “I would love to meet your mom.” 

…

Spencer shut off the engine of the Volvo, turning in his seat to face her. She tried to settle her nerves without also spurring his own anxiety, which had been quite obviously flaring all morning. 

“I’ll check in and visit for a few minutes, try to gauge what kind of a day it is, and then I’ll text you to come in or not.” He ran a hand over his face. “I really should have had you drive separate, because if it’s not a good day I don’t want you to have to wait around while I visit with her, but she’s been having a lot of good days recently, and—”

“Honey.” She found his hands where they were clutching a little aggressively at his leg and covered them with her own, running her thumbs soothingly along his skin. “It’s okay. Either way— whether I meet her today or we wait for a better day— it’s okay.”

He closed his eyes and breathed a relieved sigh. “Have I told you how much I love you yet today?”

“Mm, I don’t think you have,” she smiled. 

He brought her hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of each. “I love you so much. The most.”

“I beg to differ.” She leaned over the console and kissed his nose. “I definitely love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He shifted to meet her lips in a quick kiss. “I’ll text you in a few minutes?”

She gave him another kiss. “Sounds like a plan.”

Spencer dropped the keys into her hand and then climbed out of the car, closing the door and practically trotting toward the building. She would have laughed if it weren’t for the raging anxiety that was nearly suffocating her. She opened her door and put her legs out the side of the car, taking a deep breath and looking out over the parking lot. 

Maggie knew that meeting Diana was a good thing. That Spencer wanted her to meet the most important woman in his life was a testament to their relationship. But the closer she got to it, the more she felt completely and totally out of place. What did she have to offer this woman’s remarkable son other than a mountain of student loan debt, an endless supply of expo markers, and an ever growing collection of toilet paper rolls? 

She loved teaching kindergarten, and she was the first to defend the profession in most settings. But she was about to be in a room with two of the most brilliant minds on the planet, and she couldn’t help but wonder what she would possibly have to contribute. More than that, what would Diana Reid think of her son settling for someone so… ordinary?

Her phone buzzed with the incoming text message, and she bit back a sigh. 

Spencer: It’s an incredible day. She’s already asking about you. 

Maggie turned her face up to the clear blue sky, feeling the sun on her face and taking a deep breath. Then, she hoisted herself out of the vehicle, locking it and turning to walk toward the building. DC was hot and sticky this time of year, and she was grateful for the blast of air conditioning as she entered the facility.

The woman at the front desk— Suzanna, by her name tag— smiled kindly at her. “How can I help you?”

“I’m, um— I’m here to visit with Diana Reid.” Maggie began signing into the visitor’s log, smiling a little at Spencer’s hasty signature right above. “Her son is here, too— Spencer.”

“Ah, yes— you must be Maggie. Diana’s been so excited to meet you.” Suzanna chuckled lightly at her expression, and Maggie wondered just how much everyone already knew about her. “They’re just through there— in the sunroom.” 

Maggie mumbled her thanks and turned in the direction of the sunroom, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from the skirt of her dress. She’d spent far too long getting ready this morning, including steaming the dress— a simple number with a black bodice and a skirt covered in books. It was her own personal nod to the incredible legacy that Diana had left— not only as a professor of classic literature, but also as the mother of the most incredible reader— and man— she’d ever met. 

And now she had a moment of panic, wondering if maybe it was too on the nose, or if Diana would think it was silly and immature. She briefly considered turning and heading back out to the parking lot, but then Spencer appeared in the doorway to the sunroom, waving his thanks to Suzanna and then positively beaming at her. How could she deny him this?

He held out his hand to her, and she accepted it, instantly more at ease from the simple touch. He pulled her gently into the room, and there was Diana, perched on a floral sofa and looking quite elegant in a soft purple shawl. 

She stood immediately, an absolutely radiant smile stretching across her face at the sight of them. Maggie watched as she clasped her hands in front of her and felt Spencer squeeze her hand at the same time.

“Maggie,” Diana smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Maggie returned her smile. “It is such an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Reid.”

She scoffed and waved her hand. “Just Diana, please.” Maggie saw the moment she noticed the dress, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. “I can already tell you’re perfect for my son: the lover of books.” She motioned to the seating area. “Come, sit.”

The three of them sat, Spencer in the armchair just across from them as she and Diana sat on the sofa. Maggie folded her hands in her lap and tried to straighten her posture. Diana leaned back against the couch with a smile.

“I really have heard a lot about you,” she repeated, sliding her eyes over to a blushing Spencer. “Spencer tells me you teach kindergarten.” Maggie nodded, and Diana shook her head. “I deeply admire the patience and energy you must have for that age group.”

Maggie laughed a little. “They can certainly be a handful. I hear you were a teacher as well.” Her eyes went a little wide at her mistake. “A professor, I mean.”

“Oh, yes, yes— 15th century literature.” Diana tilted her head, considering Maggie with a knowing gaze. “But teaching is teaching, no matter the age. And where would any of us be without our kindergarten teachers? The ones who teach us the very foundations of learning. Who not only teach us to read and write, but also to inquire and investigate and discover.” 

Maggie felt unexpected tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she had to take a moment to breathe before speaking. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes people assume that kindergarten is all play doh and finger paint.”

“What’s that saying about making assumptions?” Diana pondered. 

“Issac Asimov said, ‘Assumptions are our windows on the world,’” Spencer offered. 

“Mm, thank you for that, honey, but the one I’m thinking of is from an episode of The Odd Couple, I believe,” Diana corrected, winking at Maggie. “When you assume, you make an ass of you and me.” 

“Ah.” Spencer held back a laugh, and Maggie’s heart felt just a little bit lighter. 

Diana smiled brightly at her. “Your students must absolutely adore you.” Diana gestured vaguely to Spencer before continuing, “Spencer loved his kindergarten teacher— hm, Mrs. Hudson, was it?” 

Spencer nodded in confirmation. Diana looked back to Maggie with a slightly mischievous grin. “His report cards always came back with the note that he was ‘helping’ the other students just a little too much— always the professor, even at five years old.”

Spencer let out an indignant squeak, and Maggie laughed. “My parents got a very similar note.” She gave Spencer a smile. “We just couldn’t help it, apparently.”

“I’m sure it didn’t help that he’d been reading for three years before he was even enrolled,” Diana mused. “Did he tell you that he originally considered studying the classics?” Maggie shook her head. “Well. When you’ve already read and discussed all the course material, it seems a waste of money, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, I suppose it does,” Maggie agreed. 

“Oh,” Diana tapped Maggie’s arm affectionately before gesturing back to Spencer, “and then there was the time that he became so fixated on the idea of becoming a magician that he somehow managed to trap a rabbit in our backyard.”

“Mom,” Spencer choked out. 

“Oh my. No, no— please go on,” Maggie begged, waving her hand dismissively in Spencer’s direction and leaning closer to Diana. “I need all the embarrassing stories.” 

Diana let out a lilting laugh. “The poor thing spent the better part of a weekend in a storage bin while Spencer tried to figure out the top hat trick.”

Maggie turned to him with a bewildered grin. “The storage bin was well ventilated!” he defended. “And she had plenty of food and water.”

“Did you figure out the trick?” Maggie asked. 

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “Mom found out about the rabbit before I could. And you need more than just the hat for the trick anyway.”

“We fed her one last carrot and then sent her back out to be with the rest of her bunny family, who must have been missing her dearly.” Diana winked at Maggie. “At least that’s what I had to tell six year old Spencer.”

“Rabbits are incredibly social and live in large colonies, so that actually was most likely the case,” Spencer supplied. 

Diana smiled fondly at her son, and Maggie could practically feel the love radiating off of her. “Either way, I had one very sad little boy for the next week or so.” She turned back to Maggie. “We actually took a break from some of the more... advanced reading material so that I could read him The Tale of Peter Rabbit.”

“A classic in its own right,” Maggie said. 

Diana nodded. “I’ve always said that children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and imaginative storytelling. We can learn a lot from Peter and Ferdinand.”

“I love Ferdinand!” Maggie gasped. “Gosh, that’s one of my all time favorite books. My mom read it to me when I was little, and I read it to my kids every year.”

Diana threw her hands up. “And that right there tells me everything I need to know about your teaching. Well— that and everything Spencer’s already gushed about, of course.” 

The three of them spent the better part of the afternoon laughing and trading embarrassing childhood stories. Diana was even more lovely than she could have imagined, and Maggie was grateful to be so quickly accepted into the small but incredibly loving family unit. 

Every so often, she would catch Spencer’s eyes on her— soft and content and practically sparkling— and her heart would leap into her throat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, letting Diana lead most of their side of the conversation, only chiming in here and there to offer context or defend himself in a particularly mortifying tale. Diana unwittingly (or perhaps purposefully) revealed just how much Spencer had spoken about her; she already knew about Maggie’s home, her family, and most of her interests. 

Spencer may have been quiet, but he was also blushing profusely— caught in the act of being absolutely enamored with her. Maggie found that she didn’t know how to feel about that. She should be happy. She should be thrilled. And in some ways, she was. Being with Spencer had made her the happiest she’d been in a very long time— maybe ever. 

It was the happiness that scared her. 

She deserved happiness. That’s what Anita would tell her. But the way she felt with Spencer— comfortable, natural, easy— was the rising action. She was still anticipating the climax, the mountaintop, the apex of joy. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help it. She’d learned that every mountain had a valley, and the falling action always dragged her against every jagged stone on the way down. She never failed to plummet down from the heights into the depths of where she’d learned to live, quiet and lonely and a little bit bruised. 

This knowledge didn't stop her from soaking up every second of the highs.  

“I’m starting to get a little tired,” Diana admitted. She reached across the couch and patted Maggie’s hand, squeezing gently, and then she looked to Spencer. “I start to— forget when I’m tired.” 

The smile that had become almost permanent that afternoon faltered slightly, but he nodded and checked his watch. “Four hours is pretty good.”

She hummed. “They’ve been longer as of late.” 

Maggie watched as his nose twitched. “Does Dr. Kincaid think that’s good or bad?” 

Diana gave him a sympathetic smile. “She’s not sure.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and then Maggie stood. “Let me give you a minute together.” Diana stood as well, and Maggie clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I can articulate how incredibly happy I am to have finally met you. And I— I definitely don’t have the words to properly thank you for raising such a wonderful man.” 

Diana took her hands, squeezing them gently before pulling her into a hug. Maggie returned the embrace, and Diana murmured, “Thank you for loving him. Through the highs and the lows.” 

Maggie blinked back tears for the second time that day, nodding into Diana’s shoulder and hugging her tightly. 

With a final squeeze, Diana released her, and Maggie excused herself back out into the foyer. She signed out of the visitor log and waved to a grinning Suzanna, and then headed outside to catch her breath. She made it to the car, unlocking it and settling into the passenger seat before leaning over to turn it on and get the windows rolled down. 

Spencer emerged from the building, his hands in his pockets. He quickly made his way to the vehicle, practically running across the parking lot and sliding behind the wheel. Before she could even say anything, he was surging across the console to grab her face in his hands and pull her into a kiss. 

She steadied herself with her hands on his chest, clutching at his shirt and returning the unexpected passion with a slightly bewildered smile. When he was finished, he pulled back to lean their foreheads together. She caught her breath and asked, “What was that for?”

“She loved you, and I love you, and I’m so glad you got to meet her.” 

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she slid her arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. “Me, too.”

He leaned into her for a minute longer, breathing into her hair and pressing another kiss to her shoulder. Then he pulled back, smiling widely. “How would you feel about meeting the other family?”

…

Spencer drove them to meet up with the team at O’Keefe’s, a favorite haunt of theirs on the evenings when they’d wrapped a case at a reasonable hour. They headed up the sidewalk hand in hand, with Maggie leaning a little into his side. She was feeling slightly more at ease this time around thanks to the buffer of knowing Penelope, Luke, and JJ already. 

Spencer held the door open, trailing in behind her with a hand on her waist. She spotted Penelope’s bright green dress immediately, and Spencer raised his hand in greeting. The group gave them a raucous cheer, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile.

Spencer kept his hand on the small of her back as they approached the table. He greeted the group and then turned to Maggie, gesturing around the table. He introduced her to Tara, Matt, and Emily, the three of whom greeted her with warm handshakes. Penelope was practically vibrating with excitement as she scooped her up into a hug. 

“Gosh dang it, you are just so cute,” Penelope squeaked. She pulled back from the hug to take stock of Maggie’s outfit. “The books, I love it. And the shoes!” 

Maggie laughed, twirling her ankle to show off the pink t-strap heels. “I’m definitely going to regret them in about an hour. But they look cute anyway.”

Tara sidled up to the two of them, raising her glass in solidarity. “Here’s to cute shoes and pinched toes.” She took a sip of her scotch and then turned to Maggie. “What’s your poison?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Maggie insisted. 

Tara waved her hand and gestured to Spencer. “You got grandpa to come out to the bar. You’re not paying for a single drink tonight.”

“I come out with you guys!” he squeaked indignantly. 

A chorus of exasperated groans made their way around the group, followed by good-natured laughs. Tara raised a single eyebrow in Spencer’s direction, and then turned her attention back to Maggie. “Like I said, you won’t need your wallet tonight. What’ll it be?”

…

She did not, in fact, have to reach for her wallet at all that evening. Between the seven of them, Maggie’s cup was always full and her smile was nearly permanent. She heard endless stories about Spencer, complete with photo evidence— much to his dismay. 

She learned that Tara had a doctorate in forensic psychology, and Emily had worked internationally for years becoming the Unit Chief of the BAU. Luke had been an Army Ranger and a member of the Fugitive Task Force, and Matt had traveled the globe with the International Response Team. 

They were all incredibly kind, asking about her family and her work, listening with interest as she recounted growing up on a farm and her days spent teaching kindergarten. Despite their apparent interest, Maggie couldn’t help but feel a little… silly. Stories of field trips and finger painting felt incredibly juvenile in comparison to the lived experiences of this remarkable team of people. 

She did her best to steer the conversation back to the team whenever possible, which in some ways made the whole thing worse. But she managed to keep a smile for the evening, and she lost track of how many drinks made their way down the hatch. Luke ordered an assortment of snack foods for the group, and she gratefully accepted a few fries and a mozzarella stick to soak up some of the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. At some point Spencer returned from the bar with an extra glass of water, sliding it her way with a knowing smile and a press of his lips to her cheek. 

Eventually, Maggie had to excuse herself to the bathroom, patting Spencer’s arm and carefully navigating the dim bar. In the way that it so often did, the level of her intoxication made itself abundantly clear in the harsh lighting of the restroom. She stumbled out of the stall to wash her hands, using the countertop for balance and cursing under her breath. 

She raised her head to analyze her appearance, groaning a little at the smudge of mascara under her eyes. As she swiped at the black rings, she considered that she had never quite figured out the ideal amount of alcohol— somehow always managing to get a little too drunk. And now she was too drunk in front of all of Spencer’s friends— his family. 

Not only that, but for the second time today, she couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmingly ordinary. Surrounded by the team, all extraordinary and awe-inspiring in their own right, she was… plain, unaccomplished, boring. Spencer had called her remarkable; she felt anything but. 

She closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill over, remembering the last time she’d cried in a bar bathroom. She’d spent that evening wondering what was wrong with her… wondering if she deserved to have someone like Spencer at all. 

“That’s just… the alcohol talking,” she reminded herself out loud into the empty bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. “Stop bein’ a weirdo.”

She pushed out of the bathroom and back into the bar, walking a little more cautiously as the alcohol started to course through her bloodstream. As she approached the group again, Spencer’s eyes found her immediately, and he reached for her, pulling her underneath his arm and into his side. He brought his mouth close to her ear and murmured, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just—” She slid her hand around his waist to keep herself steady. “Just more tipsy than I thought.”

He ran a soothing hand along her arm. “Do you wanna go home?”

She shook her head. “No, no— ‘M fine. ‘S nice to be with your friends.”

“You’re sure?” He squeezed her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Because honestly I’m kind of ready to go.”

She looked up from where her head was resting on his chest to see him smiling softly at her. “Whatever you want.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then turned back to the team and cleared his throat. “We’re gonna head out.”

Tara made a show of checking her watch. “10:45? I’m surprised you stayed this long, old man.”

…

Maggie’s eyes opened slowly and came into focus as Spencer’s car came to a stop outside her apartment. “Why’re we here?” 

Spencer shut off the ignition and pulled out the key with a small smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to feel… less than stellar tomorrow. I thought you might like to wake up in your own bed. Hang on.”

He climbed out of the vehicle and closed the door before coming around to her side. She could feel the tears welling up as she fumbled with the buckle on her seatbelt. Everything was a little uncoordinated, and she felt absolutely ridiculous. 

The door opened, and she carefully swung her legs out one at a time. Spencer stood slightly to the side, and she knew she should hurry up and let him get home, but she didn’t move to get up. 

“Do you need help?” 

She shook her head, and the action sent a tear rolling over her bottom lash line. She tried to swipe it away, but of course Spencer caught it.

“Hey— what’s wrong?” he asked gently. 

She sniffed. “Are you just dropping me off?”

He cupped a hand underneath her chin to tilt her eyes upward, and his eyes were soft but concerned. “I was planning to come upstairs with you. Unless you don’t want me to.”

She shook her head. “No, I— you can come upstairs.”

“Okay.” Spencer cocked his head. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Maggie didn’t know where to begin. She was drowning in self-doubt— had been since about the one month mark. It seemed that every day there was something new to feel insecure about. The confidence she’d had on his doorstep in February was nowhere to be found. 

That was too much for her slow moving brain to articulate at the moment, so she settled on: “They’re all so smart and funny and cool and interesting.”

“Okay…” he prompted. 

“And I’m not,” she admitted. 

His mouth turned quickly down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I’m just— a kindergarten teacher and I— I don’t have any cool skills or stories, and I don’t even have any muscles, and they’re all so pretty—”

“Hey, stop— stop.” Spencer squatted down to be eye-level with her. “First of all, you’re not ‘just’ anything. And you’re my favorite kindergarten teacher and the best one I know.” He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. “You have lots of cool skills and stories. And I don’t have any muscles either.”

She lifted her free hand to squeeze his bicep. “Yes, you do.”

“Muscles are overrated.” He smiled and brought a hand to her face, smoothing her hair back and then letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “And frankly, pretty is too mundane a term to describe you. I’d go with something like radiant, or ethereal, or incandescent.”

“You have to s‘plain your jokes to me,” she slurred, swiping her forearm under her nose. 

“Not always. And besides, I have to explain my jokes to basically everyone,” he reminded her. He squeezed her hand. “But unlike everyone else, you let me explain them to you. And you actually listen to the explanation.” He shrugged. “I think I like that more than I like telling the joke.”

She was quiet then, eyes focused on a particularly interesting piece of loose gravel. She knew the list of her flaws was longer, but her brain couldn’t string them together in her current state. 

Spencer shuffled closer and waited patiently until she finally looked at him before continuing. 

“I love you. And not because of your job, or your cool stories, or your muscles,” he clarified. “I love you because you’re you. And, a little selfishly, because I love the person that I am when I’m with you. Okay?”

He smiled tentatively, and she let out a long breath. “Okay.”

He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Now, come on. Let’s get inside.”

Spencer helped her navigate up the walkway and the three flights of stairs. Rather than rummage drunkenly through her purse, she passed it off and allowed him to retrieve her keys and unlock the door. 

He supervised and provided balance support as she haphazardly swiped a makeup wipe over her face and fumbled into her pajamas. Finally he got her settled into bed with a bottle of water on the bedside table. 

He pulled up the covers around her. “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he murmured. 

This was the moment that he’d realize what an absolute fool she was. He’d finally be alone in the bathroom, and it would become abundantly clear that she couldn’t drink responsibly, that she was obnoxious, that she actually was boring. She was sure of it, and her heart was fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces. 

Spencer’s nervous laugh broke through her haze of insecurity. “Whoa, I thought we were done crying?” he joked. “Honey, c’mere.” Spencer pulled her up into his arms, rubbing a hand over her back. 

She hadn’t realized she was making any noise until the sound vibrated against where Spencer had tucked her into his shoulder. As if she hadn’t been foolish enough tonight, now she was blubbering into his nice cardigan. Despite herself, she clung to him like he’d disappear like smoke between her fingers. 

“I’m— I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed; it’s not funny,” he apologized. “Shhh, sweetheart. It— it’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Her voice was full of tears and cracked pathetically at the end. 

“Okay, okay,” he agreed, a tinge of confusion in his voice. “I’m— the bathroom can wait, I suppose.”

That only made her cry harder, which poor Spencer responded to with even more aggressive soothing. He stroked over her hair and hugged her tight, shushing her and rocking her a little bit back and forth. 

He was just so sweet. Kind and thoughtful and considerate— three things she hadn’t experienced from a significant other in a very long time. And it was exhausting waiting for the shift— for the moment that he realized she wasn’t worth the hassle. She was so tired of anticipating the end. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” She hated how ridiculous she sounded, gasping and hiccuping. 

Spencer froze for a full second and then squeezed her impossibly tighter. “I’m not. Baby, I’m not. I am right here.” He stroked a firm hand up and down her spine. “I need you to take some deep breaths with me. I’m gonna do it, too, okay?” 

He led her in a series of deep inhalations and long exhales to the rhythm of his palm on her back. He murmured quietly to her, reassurances and promises and love. As her breathing came closer to normal, he pressed a soft kiss into her hair.  

“I love you, Maggie. You know that, right? I wouldn’t change one single thing about you.” His hand on her back slowed to a stop, and she could practically hear him considering his next move. “I’m pretty sure Billy Joel wrote a song about it, actually. I love you just the way you are.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up in her throat at the tone deaf melody, and she felt him smile against her hair. “Okay?”

She wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t his fault. She sighed and sniffed. “Okay, off brand Billy Joel.”

“That’s not very nice,” he chuckled, pulling back to swipe his fingers over her damp cheeks. 

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “I love off brand. Just as good ‘s the real thing, and with some fun quirks.”

“Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.” He smiled softly at her, and then his expression melted into something a little more serious. “But I mean it. There is no place I’d rather be, and no one else that I wanna be with. When I say that I love you the most, I mean that I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. Ever.”

He looked at her so earnestly that she wanted to cry all over again. How was he so wonderful, and gentle, and loving, and perfect? He’d promised to do better on a chilly night in January and then spent every single day since then doing exactly that. 

“But I actually do have to pee,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes?”

He was speaking to her as he would a child, and she was utterly mortified. She waved her hand. “God, I’m bein’ so annoying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a little drunk. And a lot adorable.” He tapped gently on her nose. “But you’re also kind of sad, and I don’t want you to be sad.” He propped the pillow up behind her. “It’ll be the fastest pee ever— four minutes, tops. Most of it will be hand washing. Okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled, and she really meant it. 

He hopped up and trotted to the bedroom door. “See you in four minutes. Have some water while you wait.”

She followed instructions, sipping carefully from the bottle he’d left for her. She also rummaged through the bedside drawer for the advil, popping two and washing them down with another swig of water. 

Spencer returned to the bedroom with his cardigan and pants already discarded. He quickly slipped out of his button up and into his pajamas before sliding in beside her and holding out his arms. “All right, c’mere.”

“Hmm?” she hummed. 

“I’m demanding snuggles,” he clarified. “That’s the price you pay for my chauffeur and caretaker services.” 

Another smile slowly turned up the corners of her mouth, and he returned it, pulling her against his side. “There she is.”

She allowed herself to settle and melt into his warmth, the soft fabric of his t-shirt under her cheek and his fingers brushing lightly over her arm. She willed herself to stop waiting for the shift. She begged herself to stop looking for the end. 

Maybe this time there wouldn’t be an end. Maybe she could have an infinite middle with Spencer Reid. Maybe she had earned that. 

———

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[taeyohonic]

stolen dances | chap. VII

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: two swearwords, a woman is getting objectified (i like that i can put this in a warning rather than it being the norm... like it is in every day life)

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 1200

links: prev. | next  [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: you know the world is too complicated when taehyung sounds smart.

last chapter ending:

it’s like seeing an accident happening in slow motion. there is nothing you can do other than chew as fast as you can.

“yoongi?”, jungkook asks and the hot tomato sauce burns your throat as you swallow your food.

“yoongi, you know? _______’s plus one?”

“______ doesn’t have a plus one”, jungkook states with authority in his voice. now namjoon is looking at you with wide eyes – did you not tell your best friend that you’ll take your therapist to his wedding?

the new dj doesn’t want to contradict his employee two minutes after being hired, so namjoon stays silent.

before you can form a coherent thought to defuse the situation, jungkook turns towards you.

“you are coming solo to my wedding, _______”, there is no question in his tone, more of an accusation as his hot stare pierces through you. you feel strangely guilty.

the seating chart is a white board in your living room – you’re the one responsible that jungkook aunt doesn’t sit next to his crack headed nephew. there is no way he knows that you’re seated next to yoongi at his best men’s table.

“no, i’m not”, you admit timidly. at your answer jungkook’s face darkens.

“since when do you have a boyfriend, _____?” your best friend really tries not to yell at you in a filled restaurant, but his tone is as harsh as his eyes. you can hear your heartbeat quicken.

“i never said he’s my boyfriend”, you argue as jungkook huffs, clearly more irritated by the second.

“you’re bringing him to your best friend’s wedding, _____. i should hope he’s your boyfriend”, he answers with sarcasm dripping from his words. you don’t like how namjoon is watching the both of you – his eyes widen at the scene before him.

before you can ask namjoon to leave – the dinner is clearly done – jungkook’s heated stare finds the newly hired dj.

“you’re friends with him, right?”

“uhm… yeah”, he nods, clearly uncomfortable with the unwanted attention.

“how long have they been together?”, your heated friend asks.

you want to object as you watch jungkook getting more upset by the second. this isn’t your best friend. you are not sure what’s gotten into him, but this is not normal.

namjoon hesitated and searches your face for help. you don’t have any – clearly overwhelmed with the situation.

“they-... they’re not... i mean they’ve only known each other for… for like five months”, he stutters.

wrong answer, very wrong, judging by jungkook’s grim expression.

“you’ve had a boyfriend for nearly half a year and you never told me?”, he accuses you and you feel your stomach clench at his disappointment.

“he’s just a friend”, you explain, but jungkook doesn’t care. he gets up from the table without responding. you watch his hunched body move with long strides to the waiter. your hands grip your hair, pulling at the strands painfully.

“please”, you say to your barista, “please don’t tell yoongi.”

you get up, too, and follow your upset friend to the front of the restaurant, not even noticing how namjoon nods in agreement. he doesn’t want to get any more involved in this mess than he already is. his fingertips trace the outline of seojin’s signature in contemplation. he should decline jungkook’s offer. he really should.

your stilettos click against the marble as you run after jungkook who already puts on his jacket, a storm clouding his face. the moment he sees you in front of him he scoffs at you.

“i don’t want to talk right now, ____”, he tells you but continues to stand there, not yet leaving. you take that as an invitation to step closer.

“jungkook, i’m sorry i didn’t tell you that i’m bringing a friend to your wedding.”

“wrong”

huh?

“you’re not bringing him to my wedding”, jungkook tells you coolly.

come again?

“he’s not invited”, he explains shortly and doesn’t wait for your responds before turning around and leaving you there.

what did he just say?

“mr. jeon, wait! your card!”, your waiter calls after him jungkook doesn’t look back.

you try to offer him a reassuring smile. “just… give me the card”, you tell the familiar staff and he nods after a second. with jungkook’s black visa heavy in your hand the waiter hesitates in his steps.

“just… he’ll be fine, ma’am.” it’s surreal that this worker is a greater source of comfort than your best friend. your smile is watery at best when you smile in gratitude.

“he’s really difficult”, you offer. the waiter nods. “aren’t we all?”

“let’s go, ____”, namjoon says from behind and you flinch at the softness of his tone. “i know a good barista willing to make you the sweetest caramel macchiato.”

the pit in your stomach lessens when you lock eyes with your dj. “will my teeth weep at the sugar level?”

the answering smile morphs his eyes into two moon crescents. “your caries is going to throw a homecoming prom in your mouth.”

***

“is it just me or is your maknae really the golden boy at being an ass?”

taehyung snorts on the other line. “honey, you’ve just enjoyed the blissful heaven of being jungkook’s maknae.”

“what?”, you ask, clearly confused.

it’s been two days since that dinner – still, your best friend won’t answer any of your calls. there was an impromptu business trip which forced jungkook to travel the next morning before the two of you could talk face-to-face. now it seems, he’s actively ignoring you from overseas.

“jungkook has always been our baby, ____”, taehyung, his former bandmate explains, “it’s like getting a really cute puppy. you’re so full of endearment that you won’t stop carrying it around. so, your puppy doesn’t learn how to walk.”

“jungkook can walk”, you snort and place the last of your watered plants back in its place. the sun is overshadowed by a cloudy sky and you’re watching the tiniest rays of sunshine dancing across the window.

“emotionally, he can’t”, taehyung counters.

“so, just because seokjin couldn’t show jungkook some tough love, i can’t take a friend to his wedding?” you try to make fun of this situation, but neither you nor taehyung are laughing.

“don’t forget that in jungkook’s eyes, you’re literally a golden maknae yourself”, he adds. “he’s never seen you as anything less than perfect… and now, you lied to him.”

“i didn’t lie”, you protest and press your fingertips against the glass.

“you should have told him about your… uhm… friend coming to his wedding, honey.”

“what difference does it make? hm? i got an invite – i myself sent to me – and i rsvp’ed it. i did the seating chart. he didn’t care. he didn’t ask. why now?”

“you know why – you’ve sent this guy more than a hundred snaps of your oatmeal for weeks, rating their consistency, but you don’t tell him about such a close friend of yours? never mention him in the last months?”, taehyung bites back without humor, “not gonna lie, honey, even i am a bit upset. and i just want to fuck you.”

his crass words are not as shocking as the amount of truth behind his thoughts.

“maybe i don’t want to share yoongi with you just yet”, you offer to deflect from the unanswered accusation.

“and maybe our maknae doesn’t want to share you either”, taehyung responds wittily. well, maybe he ought to learn how to.

_____

not my best work, but it’s honestly the best i could do right now! i hope you guys are safe, happy and loved! i am trying to update some of my fics before it’s christmas, so if you’re enjoying my other work(s), you’ll get an update soon! i... am i the only one missing yoongi in this chapter? he shall re-appear next chapter! and he shall meet jungkook! how are we all feeling about jk’s reaction? i can’t wait to hear your thoughts! till then, lots of love and the best wishes for you and your families, dana

taglist: @livewittykid  @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad​ @kimluvwoo​

[dweetwise]

i can’t stop writing them, send help. this was based on an idea from @gooobert, hope i could do it justice! ship: ace x felix word count: 1330

More than a thousand words

Meg was sitting by the campfire and busying herself with changing the shoelaces of her sneakers. The new ones were a different color and only marginally cleaner, and the whole thing was mostly a pointless attempt at any sort of change. It was kind of pathetic that the eyesore of the once-blue laces clashing with Meg’s red running shoes was the most interesting thing she'd seen in weeks.

The Entity's world was a lot of things. It was Meg's worst nightmare, a living hell, a home of unspeakable horrors that drained every last bit of hope from her piece by piece—

But in between those moments, it was indescribably boring.

Had anyone told Meg five years ago that she'd get used to being brutally murdered on a regular basis, she wouldn't have hesitated to give them a piece of her mind and maybe even her fist. But disturbing as it may be, after all this time it had become the new normal. The trials weren’t pleasant but at least they were something to keep her mind occupied and her reflexes sharp.

Between trials she was stuck at the campfire, which offered nothing in the way of entertainment save for Kate's guitar, Ace's playing cards and Bill's perpetually half-empty pack of cigarettes. Meg’s companions were both a blessing and a curse; some of them she was happy to call her friends and others she'd rather avoid. She had never been much of a people person and while it was nice to have the option to talk to someone if she wanted to, more often than not she just wanted to shove a sock in people's mouths when they just wouldn't shut up.

Hearing a familiar laugh, Meg's nose scrunched on instinct as she looked up to see one of those very people walk up to the fire. Ace sauntered up to a small group tending to the flames, earning a few words from Jeff and a smile from Kate, all the while running his mouth at a way louder volume than necessary.

Then, Ace proceeded to walk up to Felix.

Meg hadn't even noticed Felix return from his latest trial. She didn't know the man very well but he was one of the few who rarely got on her nerves, pulling his weight in trials and staying blissfully quiet at camp. She'd even go as far as to say she kind of liked the guy.

Of course, that respect flew out the window every time Felix spent time with Ace.

"Hiya, Pumpkin!" Ace chirped obnoxiously to the architect, effectively proving Meg's point. "Whatcha doing?"

Ace sat down next to Felix and Meg glared daggers at the gambler's smug face. So much for the blissful silence of the campfire.

"Ah, neat," Ace suddenly continued. "That looks like fun!"

Meg frowned; she hadn't even heard Felix say anything. Why was Ace talking to himself?

"How are you holding up after what happened back there?" Ace asked.

Felix still didn't reply, but this time Meg saw him give a pointed stare to Ace.

"I was going to heal myself so I could go for the rescue!” Ace protested. “That’s why I was in the basement, looking for a medkit—”

Felix huffed out a pointed breath.

"Or a map!" Ace continued. "I know you like to bring one into trials, and I thought it'd make a nice gift!"

Felix only raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright!" Ace relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "I was looking for a key so we could bail through the hatch once Yui and David died."

"Hmm," Felix replied.

It was a quiet sound that—combined with Felix's resting bitch face—gave absolutely nothing away.

"You're not mad, right babe?" Ace asked, casting a sickly-sweet pleading look at the German.

Again, Felix neither did or said anything, but soon Ace was breaking into a relieved laugh anyway.

"I knew you had a soft spot for me," Ace grinned.

“M-hm,” Felix commented.

“I know, I know—don’t make a habit of it,” Ace said.

The more Meg listened to the one-sided conversation, the more confused she got. There was no way Ace was able to decipher any of Felix’s weird sounds or barely-there facial expressions. It had to be some kind of joke.

She glanced around the campsite, but nobody else seemed to be paying the duo any attention. Jane was sitting on the log next to Meg’s, so she scooted over to the woman and leaned closer.

“Are you seeing this shit?” Meg whispered, getting Jane’s attention.

“What?”

“Those two!” Meg said, pointing to the offending pair.

“You think the Entity will throw another party for us before Halloween?” Ace asked Felix, still running his mouth and oblivious to Meg’s staring.

Felix hummed again; in agreement or in thought was anybody’s guess.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ace concluded despite this. “She’s gotten lazy. Wouldn’t surprise me if she even forgot Christmas this year.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jane said.

“Really?” Meg asked. “You don’t see anything wrong with…”

Felix huffed, and Ace gasped in mock offense.

“Excuse you, my Christmas sweater is fabulous,” Ace said.

Felix’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.

“That was one time, and I only borrowed yours because it looked comfy!” Ace protested.

“...That?” Meg asked Jane, gesturing in the couple’s general direction.

“Not really,” Jane said, infuriatingly unbothered by the display. “I know Felix’s family situation isn’t ideal, but as long as they’re happy, I don’t think it’s our place to judge.”

Wait… what?

“Huh?” Meg asked.

“I can’t really fault someone for finding joy in a place like this,” Jane said. “I know Ace sometimes gets on all our nerves, but Felix seems happy with him.”

What the hell was she—oh. Oh.

“Oh god no,” Meg said with a grimace. “I don’t care that they’re together or—whatever.”

Jane looked at her, frowning in confusion.

“I’m just weirded out that Ace is always just, like, talking to himself,” Meg explained. “Felix barely gets a word in.”

“Ah, I see! My bad,” Jane apologized. “Still, I don’t really see anything weird in it; Felix is a quiet person and Ace is good at reading people. I think it’s natural they communicate in their own ways.”

“You’re shitting me,” Meg deadpanned. “You really think Ace understands all those weird ‘aah’s and ‘hmm’s?”

“Body language is easier to read than you’d think,” Jane said. “Take Jake for example; he doesn’t talk a lot, but you always know what he means, right?”

“Yeah, because Jake only has two moods; ‘I’m listening’ and ‘fuck off’!” Meg protested. “It’s not like he’s telling his goddamn life story in that death glare.”

“Maybe you’re not listening,” Jane said, giving her a cryptic smile. “Either way, I think it’s sweet when people know each other well enough to not need words.”

“—I’m serious! You should have seen the look on his face!” Ace exclaimed to his companion way louder than necessary.

“...Though maybe I’d like it more if the roles were reversed,” Jane sighed, rubbing her ear.

“I hear you,” Meg snorted.

She looked back at Ace and Felix, who were still engrossed in their weird conversation. Felix had leaned closer to his boyfriend, listening raptly and offering acknowledging sounds every now and then as Ace recounted one of his trials. For some reason, the German seemed to enjoy Ace’s incessant babbling, and who was Meg to stop him?

She watched as Felix reached over and grabbed Ace’s hand, making the gambler pause mid-sentence. Slowly, Ace’s shit-eating grin changed into a soft smile.

He clasped Felix’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, giving the knuckles a quick kiss and in response, Felix lowered his head and returned the smile.

"I love you too," Ace murmured.

Meg rolled her eyes and grabbed another pair of sneakers to continue her project. She’d never understand those two, but maybe that was for the better.

And maybe she should give Jake’s death glare another shot.

[mimisempai]

I am not drunk, I am intoxicated of you

Summary:

Loki, delighted by Mobius' behavior the last time he was drunk, tries to reproduce the same situation, but Mobius is not fooled. In this game of hide and seek, it is impossible to say who will win...

Notes:

Mobius and Loki, were as usual extremely undisciplined and did not go at all in the direction I wanted, but in the end it's perfect as is. I'll let you be the judge.PS : sorry for the extreme dose of fluff and sap, but that's what I needed today...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33229249

1290 words - Rating G

"Another!"

Mobius jumped at the sound of the beer glass exploding on the floor.

This was definitely an Asgardian custom he would never get used to.

While he had only drunk a quarter of his glass of beer, Thor and Loki were probably on their fourth and both were in an advanced state of inebriation.

Mobius had seen through the attempt by Loki to get him drunk.

He was aware that Loki had greatly appreciated the way Mobius had behaved the last time he was drunk after partying with Thor.

But this time he knew the effect of Asgardian alcohol and had no intention of falling for it.

"Mobius!" Thor called out to him after grabbing Loki's hand, "I agree that you may marry Loki!"

Mobius ran his hand over his face, it seemed that this was the subject that worried Thor the most as his not-so-subtle hints revolved around his relationship with Loki.

Loki pulled his hand from Thor's and with a voice clouded by alcohol, he stammered, "I don't care about your approval, Mobius is already my fiancé!

Huh? First news!

Mobius couldn't stop his heart from beating a little faster at the thought.

Before Thor could protest theatrically, Mobius stood up, "Okay you two, I'm going to bed, have fun." For the sake of his sanity, it was best if he walked away for a while.

"No, I'm the one who's leaving, I'm tired." Thor drained his last beer in one gulp, stood up and as he was about to leave the room, turned and looked at Mobius and Loki with an eye that was meant to be suggestive, "And no fooling around guys!"

Mobius rolled his eyes.

He hadn't seen that Loki had approached.

Without warning, he found himself with a Loki astride him who had taken his left hand. He intertwined his fingers with those of Mobius and turning his hand in all directions, he stopped to stare at a point.

"Loki?"

Loki whispered, "It looks so good on you..."

Mobius, having no idea what he was talking about asked, "What?"

"Well your ring, your engagement ring."

Mobius blinked and asked again, « What?"

Loki looked sulky, and looked him straight in the eye, "Your engagement ring, a white gold ring, encrusted with small emeralds."

"Ahem, but Loki I don't have a ring."

"But come on Mobius, I had it made for you, and I put a spell on it, only you and I can see it!"

Seeing that Loki looked so sure of himself and that in the drunken state he was in, he would not be able to convince him, so he played along.

"And so I take it that you have one too?

"Loki looked up to the sky and exclaimed, "Mobius, have you lost your memory or what?  Of course I have one too! Look!"

Mobius smiled and brought the hand in question to his lips before gently kissing the finger in question.

Loki looked at him in awe and said in a trembling voice, "You know, Mobius? It's... it's the kind of life I always dreamed of having but didn't dare imagine or expect because I firmly believed that the future didn't hold such a thing for me. You're everything I always wanted but didn't know I needed." he leaned down to press a kiss to Mobius' forehead, "You know I went through a lot before I met you and I was a mess.It's... it's the kind of life I always dreamed of having but didn't dare imagine or expect because I firmly believed that the future didn't hold such a thing for me. You're everything I always wanted but didn't know I needed."

He leaned down to place a kiss on Mobius' forehead, "I don't know... you know I went through a lot before I met you and I was a mess. But you were able to see further through me than anyone else."

Mobius wondered if it was the alcohol that made Loki talk, that made him open up like that, but he couldn't not answer, so he whispered, "I didn't do anything more than what you deserved, I gave you the love you deserved. And I don't know what you'll remember tomorrow when you're sober, but if you've forgotten, I'll tell you again, I'll be proud to be called your husband."

Loki's response was immediate and nonverbal as he captured Mobius' lips in a passionate kiss.

When they parted to catch their breath and Mobius saw Loki's flushed cheeks, his soft, emotional smile, his green eyes that shone like the purest emerald, he could hardly believe that it was all true, that it was all his. He pressed a tender kiss on Loki's lips, tasting their sweetness, the light fragrance of alcohol and...

"That's not the kind I wanted!"

He had just forgotten that Loki wasn't completely sober and was snapped out of his romantic reverie by a pouty Loki again.

"Ah, and what exactly did my prince want?"

"Well, first of all, it's not supposed to be that short. Secondly, where are your hands? Usually they're in my hair or around my waist, or..."

Secondly, where are your hands? Usually they're in my hair or around my waist, or..."

"Cheeky brat!"

Mobius chuckled before actually carding his hands into Loki's hair as he hungrily pushed his mouth on his, and gave Loki what he wanted.

From the way he moaned into the kiss, Mobius must have succeeded.

He pulled back a little and took Loki's lower lip between his teeth and tugged a little, which caused his lover to moan again and open his mouth to invite him in. Mobius didn't hesitate and tasted every inch of the tempting mouth, brushing his teeth from time to time as they greedily devoured each other.

They were both out of breath, but neither seemed to want to stop, so they continued like this for a while, until finally Mobius stepped back and asked Loki with a teasing smile, "So is this what you wanted?"

Loki, who looked strangely much less drunk, leaned over to Mobius and whispered in his ear, "I'm not sure yet, will you show me one more time?"

"Little snake! How likely is it that you are actually drunk? Hm Sweetheart?"

Loki smiled shamelessly, "I don't know, but maybe you should look at your left hand again..."

Mobius' heart leapt in his chest as he felt something cold slide down his finger.

He raised his hand to eye level and was surprised to see a white gold ring embedded with small emeralds the color of Loki's eyes, just as his lover had told him.

"Loki... does this... mean... uh... that..."

"Have I managed to mute the legendary agent Mobius?"" asked Loki in a gently mocking tone before taking the hand in question and kissing the finger in the same way Mobius had kissed his just before.

Then looking up from Mobius' hand, Loki said softly, "I know I called it an engagement ring, but it can be whatever you want, I just wanted a sign that you are mine and I am yours. No obligation. I know I'm doing this rather-"

Mobius, who had come to his senses, pressed his lips on Loki's and silenced him in the way he knew best before pulling back and saying tenderly, "I only agree to wear it if you wear one too."

Loki laughed and showed him his hand.

Mobius leaned in and took a closer look.

The ring was similar to Mobius', except that instead of emeralds, there were small M's engraved on it.

Their engagement rings, commitment rings, whatever they would call them, were like them, original, different, complementary and indivisible.

A sign of their love.

_______

Series of Oneshot : Together, for all time, always

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 1! - for Sara [@bravadostyles], the ultimate muse. 

SOUNDTRACK:

Empire State of Mind - Jay Z.

Animals - Maroon 5.

Dopamine - Børns.

Word Count: 4,731.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Freshman Year. 

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City. 

“You’ve got that face on,” Claire said. 

“What face is that, Claire?”

“Your trademark ready-to-go-home face,” she giggled. “You tired?”

“Just a little,” you whispered, head resting on her shoulder, feet hanging off the bed. “Had a long day at rehearsal.” 

“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, if you wanna go, we can go. I’ll walk you home.”

“No,” you shook your head, and placed your hand on her arm. “It’s fine. I’m having a good time.” 

Soft music played through the small speakers on Jonathan’s desk, mixing in with the chatter of your friends. Everyone sat in different spaces around the room, some on the desk, some on John’s bed, and you and Claire rested on his roommate’s bed. Open solo cups of beer were scattered amongst the room. It was calm, chill, and then the door swung open.

“Yoooooo!” The entering voice rang, instantly earning a happy response from Johnathan, who hopped off his bed and ran towards the entrance. 

“Gube!” John exclaimed, arms open wide to embrace his friend. He always got a little touchy-feely when he was tipsy. “Where the hell you been, man?”

“Consider my good time ruined,” you murmured to Claire.

“Be nice, [y/n],” she responded, patting your leg. “Everyone’s having a nice time, don’t start anything.”

“Me? Me? I don’t start anything, I never start anything. It’s him who starts it. That di—“

“Hey, [y/n],” Matthew greeted, taking a seat beside John. “Hey, Claire.”

“Hey, Gube,” Claire smiled. She gave you a gentle nudge with her elbow. 

You rolled your eyes, “Hi, Matthew,” you reluctantly replied, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Aw, c’mon, that’s all I get?” Matthew teased. “What’s wrong, sleeping beauty? You tired?” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” you told him, finally looking over at him. He wore a white polo, paired with a busted pair of jeans and white converse with his mismatched socks poking out. On his chest sat his trademark gold chain, the medallion set in the center of his sternum. 

“Might be past your bedtime,” he shrugged. “Really. Might be better if you just left.” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “Why don’t you leave? We were perfectly fine before you got here.”

“Oh, God,” someone groaned. “Here they go.”

“John wants me here. I’m a little more fun than someone who falls asleep mid-conversation, so I can see why.”

“Matthew, why are you talking to me? Can you just pretend,” you waved your arms around. “Pretend there’s a wall here.” 

“Don’t mind her,” Claire interjected. “She’s crabby because she hasn’t started editing her project yet.” 

You gasped, “Why would you just announce that, Claire? I didn’t wanna be reminded of that.” 

“[y/n], you’re gonna be fucked if you don’t get that shit done. It’s due next week.” Another friend told you. 

You groaned, “Yes. I know that. But I’ve been killing myself practicing for the show every night. And when I finally sat down to start editing, I didn’t know how to work the damn software!” 

“You don’t know how to work EasyEdit?”

“No,” you sighed. “I missed class that day. I tried to learn on YouTube, and that confused me even more. So, I have since then given up.”

“Hm,” John hummed. “You know who’s really good with EasyEdit?”

“Who?”

“Gube,” John answered. This prompted Matthew to lift his head up at astronomical speed, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He taught me how to use it. He could help you, [y/n].”

“John...” Claire said. 

“What, Claire?” John replied. “[y/n] needs help and Gube can help. I’m just saying.” 

You cut your eyes over to Matthew, who was watching you, but he quickly turned away when you made eye contact. 

“You’re not clever,” Claire shook her head. “You’re nosey is what you are.” 

“Nosey?” You pipped, tapping Claire’s arm. “What do you mean nosey?” 

“I mean, if you and Gube just...” John said. “I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

“And stop arguing all the damn time,” someone added. “The shit’s annoying.”

Your jaw had been dropped since the word ‘fucked’ was uttered. You looked up at Claire who gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I-“ You stuttered. “I...never say that again, John! Ever. Ew!”

“Ew?” Matthew exclaimed. “You’d be lucky if I tossed you a bone.”

Your jaw dropped even lower, stunned by Matthew’s words. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” you muttered. “And this is who you want me to allow near my final project?” You directed at John. 

“Hey, if you don’t wanna fuck me, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Matthew taunted, biting his lip and tilting his head. 

“No. I don’t wanna fuck you! I also don’t want to spend any more time with you than I absolutely have to. So I will learn EasyEdit by myself.” 

“Okay,” Matthew shrugged. “You’re not gonna figure that shit out in time, but fine, princess. Be stubborn.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head in annoyance. 

“[y/n], let Gube help,” Claire said. “You’re gonna drive yourself insane with that and the show coming up, plus finals? Just this once.”

You looked over at Matthew, instantly getting angry again. Hate is a strong word. It’s a very, very strong word. And you’d never use it against anybody. Ever. Except Matthew Gubler. That may sound a bit dramatic, so to clear up any confusion, here’s a composite list of every asshole, dick, bastard, bitch-ass move he’s made in one semester:

1. Broke your editing equipment trying to do magic tricks in class.

2. Didn’t apologize.

3. Called your last documentary “uninspired, dry, a little like a lullaby.”

4. Took the last spot for an internship over Christmas break. 

5. Which he knew you wanted.

6. Refused to partner with you on a final project because “you can’t even get to class everyday.”

7. In front of everyone because he’s a jackass.

8. Told you that you were insane for majoring in film making AND ballet. 

9. Proceeded to tell you that you look better in a leotard than a suit.

10. Fucked your roommate.

11. While you were in the room.

12. Insisted that Wes Craven is a better horror director than Tim Burton? Is he dumb?

13. Calls you ballerina barbie, short stack, princess, anything other than your actual name. 

14. Won’t drop dead. 

And, because you’re not going to let anyone treat you that way, here’s a list of things you’ve done in retaliation: 

1. “Accidentally” stepped on his canvas. 

2. 3 times.

3. Uploaded a video of you calling him a dick in place of his documentary. 

4. Yes, he did play it for the class on accident.

5. Told him you didn’t want to be his partner anyway since he walks around stoned 24/7. 

6. Laughed. 

7. Told him he’d be a good ballerina. His tiny dick would fit perfectly in a leotard. 

8. Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project. 

9. Told him none of Edgar Allan Poe’s work was actually interesting enough for screen time. (He almost passed out, he got so mad.)

10. Told him his mismatch socks were dumb. 

11. Consistently call him asshole, dick, jackass, or just Matthew. All synonyms.

12. Refuse to let him mess with you. 

So, the idea of him helping you with your project, coming into your room, bothering you for hours on end, was a ridiculous thought. You should punch John for even mentioning it. Except. It wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Hey, pants stay on,” Matthew said, giving you a smirk. “Boy Scouts honor.” 

Everyone was looking at you. It made you queasy. Annoyed. Angry. And you couldn’t take it. So, you sighed heavily and cut your eyes towards Matthew. “Fine,” you grimaced. “Fine. Monday night. You will teach me how to use EasyEdit. And then we can all drop this.” 

“Ah, success,” John cheered. “I’m not worried, though. Look at [y/n], she’s so innocent. She looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree. She does ballet for crying out loud. I doubt fucking is on her to-do list.”

“And on that note,” you pushed yourself off the bed. “I’m going to my room. Goodnight.” 

Your room was just down the hall, and you showered, changed, brushed your teeth and got into bed in all of 30 minutes. Just about to fall asleep, you were disturbed by the sound of keys jingling in the door. Sloppy footsteps stumbled into the room, accompanied by silly giggles.

Thinking you were asleep, your roommate admired your sleeping frame, “Awwww,” she cooed. “Precious, precious, [y/n].” She walked over to you and rubbed your shoulder. 

“You’re crazy to not wanna fuck Matthew,” she whispered, chuckling. “You don’t know what you’re missing, kid.”

And you stayed still, silent, pretended to snore. All while Claire crawled into her bed. 

When Monday rolled around, you spent the entire day with a chip on your shoulder. Claire kissed the top of your head and insisted you’d be fine, that your project would be done by the end of the night and you’d be grateful for Matthew’s help. But she knew that was a  dead cause in her heart of hearts. You both knew it’d be a miracle if Matthew and you made it through 15 minutes of editing. 

When she left to go to a friend’s place, you changed into pajama pants, combined with a cozy cropped button sweater. You sat at your desk, and waited. You’d told Matthew to arrive at 7. 

He got there at 7:59.

By then, you were laying in bed, pissed and upset that you’d actually been convinced to give Matthew a chance. He knocked on the door, and you answered with an attitude. “Go home, Matthew.” 

“Don’t be like that, short stack,” he sighed, following you as you stomped into the room. “I got caught up. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah? What’d you get caught up with? A gram?” You spit. 

He laughed, “Haha, so funny. No, I was not getting high. I was working on my own project. That I finished. Ahead of time. Can you relate, [y/n]?” 

“Get out of my room,” you scoffed. “I asked you for one thing. One. And you couldn't even do that. You knew how important this project was to me, and you didn’t give a fuck. I wasted time waiting for you that I could’ve been working or rehearsing! I—Are you listening?” 

Matthew’s eyes had been concentrated solely on your chest, “Are you wearing a bra?” He asked. 

You took a step back, stunned, blinking rapidly as you searched around the room. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m just trying to find where the hell that came from?” 

“It came from that itty bitty shirt you’re wearing,” he replied with a shrug. “Doesn’t really leave much to the imagination.” 

“Stop staring at my tits!” You shouted, face turning red. “God, Matthew, I can’t stand to look at you right now. Just, leave. Please.” 

He did not stop staring at your tits. Not for a very long time. But when he did, he had this look in his eyes. Like a wire had snapped. And he kissed you. Cupped your face in his hands, pulled you close, and kissed you. You pressed your hands against his chest, face contorting in shock and confusion. 

You pushed him away, lips retracting with a sharp smacking noise. Saliva dripped from your lips, and you stood there, huffing and puffing like the two of you had just run a mile. “What the hell was that?” You snapped, your fingertips lightly touching your bottom lip. 

He didn’t reply. He was just as speechless as you were. Speechless, and confused, and out of breath, and so, so pretty. He was so pretty. Has he always been that pretty? 

You grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and pulled him back in, pressing your lips together in an aggressive collision. Matthew’s hand gripped onto your hair, his body pushing itself against yours in an eager attempt to get as close to you as possible. His other hand made its way to your waist, gripping onto your skin so hard, his nails left marks. Both his hands began to snake down your body, landing on the back of your thighs. 

Very suddenly, Matthew scooped you up in his arms, yanking your feet off of the ground. You let out a breathy ‘oof’ as you found yourself perched in his grasp, your legs wrapped around his torso, your hands on his shoulders. He supported your weight so easily, all while sliding his tongue into your mouth. 

He carried you over to your bed, where he abruptly dropped you onto the mattress, and looked down at you with a lustful grin. Standing beside the bed, he leaned in as if he was going to kiss you — slowly, with his hands reaching out to touch your body — but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his hands on your ribs and pushed your sweater up, over your breasts to reveal your chest. 

“I knew it,” he whispered. “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, before you released it shakily. His lips wrapped around your nipple, wetting it with his tongue and applying light suction. A soft moan left your mouth, and you gripped onto his hair in ecstasy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He sucked harder, to the point of pain, just to hear you make some noise. Any noise. When one nipple began to pulse between his lips, he moved to the other, leaving a trail of love bites between them. 

The heat between your legs was suffocating, and you rubbed your thighs together for some relief. Matthew noticed this, and proceeded to stick his hands down your pants, fingers sliding underneath the band of your underwear. He smirked at how soaked you were already and rubbed your clit as he licked a trail up to your neck. You tightened your thighs around his hand, gasping at the friction and pulling at the bedsheets. 

The sound caused Matthew to take in a sharp breath of air. His cock was pressed against the zipper of his jeans, and was getting to the point that it was excruciating. So, as he massaged your nerve, he undid his pants and pushed them down his legs. 

He nibbled on your ear, and as you gave him a quiet moan, your eyes flickered down to look between your bodies. Flushed, and horny, and suddenly so desperate, you grabbed onto Matthew’s large erection and pressed the tip against your clit. 

He grunted and pulled back to stare you in the eye, a sly grin creeping onto his face. He laughed, “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Innocent? Innocent, my ass.” 

As you rolled your eyes at him, he kissed your lips softly, hands holding onto your thighs. You positioned his cock at your entranced and allowed him to press into you. He stood up straight, watching his cock disappear inside you, slowly, steadily, before he suddenly slammed into you. The sound of skin colliding on skin mixed in with your and Matthew’s moans, and he watched your head roll back in pleasure. 

He licked his lips, smirking. And he did it again. And again. And again. Pulling out all the way and pushing back into you. Hard. The sensation struck your chest, and elicited vulnerable moans from you every time he pounded you. Matthew instantly began to speed his hips up, nails digging into your thighs as he pressed your legs open for him. His used all his strength to fuck you, your head knocking into the wall with every thrust. It was sloppy and messy and you couldn’t stop whimpering. Your eyes were screwed shut, and when you opened them again, the first thing you noticed with his chain. The gold medallion dangled in your face, Matthew’s lips pressed against your cheek. 

Absentmindedly, you tangled your fingers in the chain, tugging on it as your volume increased. “Fuck,” you muttered. “Oh, fuck.” 

He brought his hand up to your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, quietly, softly. And you did it without thinking. His thumb slid into your mouth, twirling around your tongue and stifling your moans. 

He removed his hand and placed his thumb on your clit, wetting the skin with your own saliva. You let out a loud yelp at the new sensation, and a bubble instantly formed in your stomach. 

Oh, no, not Matthew, you thought. Don’t let it be Matthew. 

But with his cock and his hips and the way he kissed your neck and rubbed your sensitive nerve all at once. You came, you came with a fit of pornographic moans, trembling and writhing around on the bed. 

And it was Matthew — the first guy to make you come. Ever. 

He licked his lips as he watched you come undone beneath him, proud of himself — to the point of cockiness. Giving you a few more forceful pumps, he pulled out of you and released himself onto your chest, watching the fluid cover the hickies he’d left there. 

He looked angelic on top of you, moaning, panting, swearing under his breath. But the moment he finished, he stepped back, fastened his pants and walked away. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him in a daze. 

Matthew logged onto your computer, pressed a few buttons and then closed the laptop shut. Then he left. 

However, the next day he sent you an email. Your project. Fully and perfectly edited. 

Okay. So, that happened. They said it would happen and it happened. Didn’t necessarily make you hate Matthew any less, but it happened. It was good. You hated to admit it. And it was all you could think about. You couldn’t even touch yourself or hold your pillow without thinking of Matthew. It was bad. 

Especially, given the fact that after the whole situation, he decided not to talk to you. At all. Not in class, not while hanging out with friends, not even to pick a fight. Complete and utter radio silence. He looked at you enough though. Not while you were looking at him, of course. So, as far as you knew, you were far off of his mind. But life had to go on. You had to focus on school, and on top of that, you were due to perform in NYU’s production of Swan Lake in less than two weeks. 

You landed the main role of Odette, meaning for the next two weeks, you had to eat, sleep, breathe ballet. You practiced for hours on end, barely saw your friends, which gave you a good break from seeing Matthew. 

Opening night rolled around and you were so nervous, you thought you might puke. Only a freshman, it was a miracle you landed the role in the first place, which meant your performance tonight was a make or break moment. Claire could tell you were sick to your stomach and tried to distract you by taking a bunch of pictures on her phone.

“Smile, pretty girl!” She beamed, the flashing going off in your face as you posed. “[y/n], you’re gonna kill it! I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah...” you whispered. “Deathly excited.”

“Aw, poor baby,” she swung her arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna be front  and center, cheering you on. Just focus on me, okay?” 

You smiled and nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Okay.” 

Your body was on autopilot out on stage. The movements you’d practiced everyday, for hours and hours on end, just flowed. The lighting in the audience was dark, but you could just barely make out Claire’s figure under the soft hue. 

It wasn’t until the finale, when you stood ready for your closing performance, that the lights switched to their full intensity and you noticed a hand resting on Claire’s shoulder. An arm resting behind her head. Someone whispering in her ear, making her laugh. 

Matthew.

He was here. He was here and he was with Claire. He was with Claire and he was watching you. And it made your stomach feel weird. But then the music kicked up. So, you had to go. You fell into your dance, your rhythm and for some reason, you could not stop staring at Matthew. 

Every twirl, you made him your focal point. Looking at him again, and again, and again. Until the lights went out. 

Supporting ballerinas cheered you on as you walked offstage, throwing flowers at your feet and giving you applause. Your instructor marched right up to you, kissed both sides of your face and embraced you. It was a wonderful feeling, but right then, you were drained, emotionally, mentally, physically, you needed some rest. 

You locked yourself away in your dressing room, taking a seat in the mirror and beginning to remove your tights. Pressing a makeup wipe to your skin, you jumped, startled by a knock on the door. You rose from your seat and walked to the entrance casually, expecting Claire to greet you. 


But you froze, as soon as you opened the door. Eyes glazing over the person in front you, your breath caught in your throat. “Matthew.” 

“Hey,” he smiled. He looked you up and down — your naked legs, your breasts poking through the thin material of the leotard. “You...you were amazing tonight.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Bye.”

You attempted to close the door on him, but his put his elbow against the frame, stopping it in motion. “Whoa,” he exclaimed, pushing his way into the room. “What the hell is your problem?” He closed the door behind him.

“My problem is that I’m very tired, and still need to change, and greet everyone waiting for me. So, I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for what?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

You ducked your head down, “Nothing. Nothing. You need to leave.”

“Hey, hey, hey, ballerina barbie,” he mocked. “What’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal! I have nothing to say to you Matthew. Same way you have nothing to say to me.” You scrunched up your face in a frown.

“I...” he paused, laughing under his breath. “I never said I didn’t have something to tell you. In fact, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” 

You looked up at him — the gel in his hair, his black button down shirt flowing over his belt buckle, his dark eyes, his lips and the way they were pouting just a little. And like a magnet, you found yourself being pulled towards him. You jumped into his arms, hands on his face, and connecting your lips, mouths open, tongues touching. 

Matthew held you up, moaning against your lips. “Mm,” you hummed. “Wait, what if someone comes in?” 

Matthew thought quickly, hiking you up in his arms and shoving your back against the door. “Well, now they can’t get in, can they?” He mumbled, leaving kisses along your neck.

Your jaw dropped and you started to undo his belt, freeing his cock from his pants. He grunted against your skin as you stroked him, your head leaned back against the door, your chest heaving. You used your other hand to pull your leotard to the side, revealing your throbbing core. 

Matthew smirked, letting you guide his dick to your entrance, and pushed his way into you swiftly. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck to keep yourself quiet. His thrusts were quick, rough, messy. He was much more vocal this time, making no effort to stay silent.

“Fuck,” he moaned in your ear. “F-fuck, I forgot how good your pussy is. Fuck.”

The feeling was mutual. For the past month, you’d be wondering what the hell about Matthew had you so stuck. So fixated on him. And this was it. He filled you up perfectly, could manhandle you however he wanted, and always, always made sure you came. 

He fucked you harder when he noticed your orgasm nearing — your quickened breaths, frequent moans and whines, and your legs tightening against his torso. “Oh, my God,” you whimpered. 

“Shit, are you gonna come?” He asked. “Good.”

Breathless, speechless, you stared into his eyes helplessly as your body began to crumble. All power left your body and you held onto his shirt for dear life. He gave you a small smile, and flipped his hair out of his face, looking down at his cock. He could pinpoint the exact stroke that did it. The one that sent you into a state of euphoria, sent your eyes rolling back, your body into intense shock. 

You let out a long and weakened sigh as the wave washed over you, and Matthew continued to plow into you like nothing was happening. 

“It’s so cool how your pussy tightens up when you come,” he chuckled. “It’s hot.” 

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, clawing at the back of his neck. His breathing became ragged and hoarse, and he had to pull out of you before he came. He jerked himself off until he exploded onto your clothing. And with you being dressed in all black, his stains stood out perfectly on your costume. 

This time, he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he left.

The week after that was finals week. And neither of you could be bothered to reach out. Despite the not-so-subtle confession of bitterness and the very intense orgasms you shared, you and Matthew simply went back to not talking. Your friends thought it was strange, even commented that they missed the bickering. The two of you shrugged in response. 

Most of your dorm room was in boxes by the time you finished your last final exam. Claire was slower to pack up than you were, considering she only lived an hour away, but she applauded you for your determination. The day Claire did start packing was the day before you left for the summer. The two of you spent the day getting everything cleared out, cleaned, squared away.

While the two of you sat on your bed, watching Netflix, a knock sounded from your door. Claire hopped up and headed towards the entrance, opening it with a grand smile. “Gube!” She shouted, instantly opening her arms for a hug. Matthew wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her into the room with a smile.

 “Are you about to leave?” She asked him, holding onto his arms as he placed her feet back on the ground. 

“Yeah, my mom’s here. So, I wanted to stop by and say goodbye,” he nodded. 

“Aw, Gube, you softie,” she giggled. “[y/n], come say bye.”

“I can say bye from right here, Claire,” you replied. She gave you a look, and you felt compelled to get off the bed. So you did, you approached them, “Bye, Matthew.” 

“Bye, shortcake,” he laughed. “Bye, Claire.” He pulled your roommate into another hug, while you stood there, crossing your arms in annoyance. 

Matthew peeked at you over Claire’s shoulder. One hand rubbed her back and the other reached out to you, holding a small note.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, then the note, then Claire. You ripped the paper from his hand, and stuffed it into your pocket right away. He smirked at you, and turned his attention back to Claire. 

“Hey,” he said to her. “Come back to my place, I want everyone there to show my mom I actually have friends.” 

Claire chuckled and nodded, “Okay,” she shrugged. “Let’s go. [y/n], you coming?”

“Uh, no,” you shook your head. “I’m gonna keep packing, but I’ll text you later.”

“Okay,” Claire smiled, and she let Matthew whisk her away. 

You sighed, and as soon as the door closed, you pulled the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket. You opened it up to reveal — not a meaningful message, not even a few words. Just one string of numbers, writing in his handwriting:

505. 

[PART 2.]

[mariamermaid]

The witches wrath (1/3)

Tommy Shelby X fem witch reader

Summary: You meet Thomas when you were just a little girl travelling as a gypsy…

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking

A/N: This doesn´t follow the plot of the show really

Halloween Masterlist

 You´ve met Thomas Shelby when you we´re eight- he was ten at the time- when his parents took him, Arthur and Baby John to the first Gypsy party ever. You stayed out of town from Birmingham with your trailers, back then you were a large group of gypsies, almost 50 people. People back then weren´t too bothered by you, not like today. Of course, from time to time there were some numbskulls who bore hatred towards the gypsies, but things were different back then.

They used to shout my name, now they whisper it.

He remembered the exact moment he saw you for the very first time like it was yesterday. He and Arthur had his first beer- he chuckled thinking back when today only whisky made him feel that way- and he sat by the fire. The cold night didn´t seem to bother any of the people, women danced in short skirts with tinkling jewelry and when his eyes glided through the crowd, he spotted you. You stood across him and he saw you through the flames- how ironic he thought. He saw you in flames for the first and for the last time…

You grinned at him devilish, waking a sense of adventures inside him like only you could do. He immediately followed you and watched you running through the rows of trailers. Then you disappeared, but he caught sight of a single candle shining from a trailer. Carefully he took the few stairs and then opened the door. A wave of heat hit him and he remembered the smoke from the build-in ovens rising above the small colony of gypsies. He remembered you sitting at the table, watching every move he made precisely, your hands softly grabbing the crystal ball, which mysteriously glowed purple.

“Do you want me to read your future?” He was unsure what to say, nervously he nodded and sat down across from you. You wore a headband with jewelry that hung over your forehead. Even back then there was smudged eye makeup that made your eyes shine in the dark.

“I see great fortune in your future, Thomas Shelby.” He opened his mouth, wanting to ask you about his name, but then kept quiet. Chills ran over his skin. “But it´ll be hard to get there, a long way is ahead of you. Don´t forget to seek your family in difficult times, they will always stand behind you supporting.”

 For a long time, you two were inseparably, constantly hanging around each other. His family, especially his brothers were first unsure about you, but they quickly learned to mess with you. Even Aida found a liking in you, since you often braided her hair.  His father loved you. He loved the wild spirit gypsies had, just like you. He loved it because when he, Tommy and you took the horses out for a run, you didn´t need a side saddle. And when the horse went faster and faster, you stretched out your arms, embracing the wind. Smelling the scent after rain had fallen. Closing your eyes and feeling sincere freedom. They admired that about you, Tommy and his father. “Get a hold of her, Tommy, ey? You gotta keep a girl like her!” He often told his son and Tommy would dutifully nod. Tommy admired your sense for adventures, he couldn´t even remember how often you had gotten him in trouble. But he remembered that every damn time, you had found a way out. Every single time. He still didn´t know how you had talked him in to stealing a horse, or when a new mayor was elected you had exchanged the pig with a dead dog. On his birthday the school was unexpectedly cancelled. You had dressed Aida´s cat in doll´s cloth when little John didn´t stop crying. You had wandered with him for two days straight to find a crystal for his mother´s birthday present. His dad had taught you how to shoot and while you were a natural, Tommy needed a lot of practice. But not once you laughed about him. Not when you came to his house and Arthur had stolen his clothes. Not when he cried because an older boy had punched him. You punched back, because you always had his back. You were partners in crime.

But then the gypsies left town and so did you. It broke his father´s heart to see his son like this. Tommy didn´t eat for days. And every night you laid awake in your bed, wondering about young Thomas Shelby. Praying that one day you could go back to him. And you did, but the circumstances weren´t as you expected them.

In a blood moon night, men had overrun the colony, they killed almost all men and they had taken the women, often raping them. You had to run away, knowing that if you looked back, there would be nothing left but ashes. And so, you returned to Birmingham. As a broken young woman with no qualification for a job. All your hope laid on Thomas Shelby…

 Your hands were shaking when your finger finally grabbed the bell to ring. It sounded off key, emptier and not how you remembered. A young boy opened the door, first tears formed in your eyes. “John.” You sighed. The young boy didn´t recognize you. “Yes?” He asked boldly. You chuckled. “Is Tommy here?” He nodded unsure and you followed him into the house. The smell of smoke laid thick in the air. You followed John to the kitchen and there sat they all. At the end of the table Tommy´s father, to his left Arthur, Thomas on his right. A young man with an angular face and piercing blue eyes. Aida sat on Arthur´s side and Polly ran around the kitchen. His father was just explaining something to him, when he realized a new person entering the room. Aida´s and Arthur´s fight also broke off and all of them suddenly stared at you. You had changed a lot over the years. You still had long hair, but it was now hidden under a scarf. Your face was denoted by a scar just above your eyes. It was also the eyes Tommy recognized. You had grown to a beautiful young woman and the minute his father saw you, his hope for Tommy to marry you, came back. But there was no smile on your red lips. “Y/n?” He asked confused. You couldn´t hide the pain behind your eyes. “Hello Thomas.” He still could read you. He knew you didn´t want them to see you cry. Immediately he jumped off his chair and a hand laid on your back while he pushed you in his room. You broke down in tears and he sat down next to you, his arms embracing you. He had missed you; it was undeniable. But over the years he had gotten used to it, used to being without you. But now you were back and he felt a missing piece coming back. “What happened?” He asked quietly. “They´re all gone.” You sobbed while inhaling his scent so deeply, hoping you would forget the horrifying pictures in your head. “We were close to the border to Scotland when more people started to riot against us. One night, men came and the killed our men and they took the women.” He pulled away, his hands grabbing your face.  A sudden wave hit his body, his stomach had this tightening feeling, that he couldn´t quite get a grip on. “Did they hurt you?” You shook your head. “I was able to flee.” He nodded and embraced you again. “I don´t know what to do. I have nothing left.” You then finally admitted after a long break of silence. “You have me.”

 He was right, he still had your back and you were endlessly thankful. Within a few months you were able to open a shop with healing herbs and medicine. And with the help of the Peaky Blinders, people more and more accepted you. You often helped rather poor workers who couldn´t afford a real doctor. And the shop filled you with hope. Hope for a new beginning.

It must have been three months after you moved to Birmingham, you just closed the shop for today. The night was already settling in, giving you cold shivers. You locked the door and packed the key away. When turning a man suddenly appeared. Surprised you recognized Tommy. “Geez Tommy! You scared me to death!” He chuckled lowly, a cigarette hanging loosely from the corner of his mouth. You could see the smoke in the soft shine of a lantern evaporating in the night sky. You smelled the bitter scent of whisky, he had been drinking. “What is it, Tom?” You asked while starting to walk. Your small flat was twenty minutes away from the shop and the walks often helped you clear your mind. And since you had moved there was one particular thing that was very often on your mind. Thomas Shelby himself. Of course, you had realized the man he had become and you admired him. He was brave, courageous and smart, sometimes bold but always reading the situations right. But not only his traits, but physical as well. His strong jawline, his bewitching blue eyes, his full lips. You both had grown up and you cursed at yourself every time your thoughts slipped. He was your best friend. “Can I walk you home?” You laughed. “I don´t know, can you?” You grinned when he hearing his drunken accent. He loved your laugh. It was one of the few things that still seemed carefree about you. You tucked your arm into his and together you walked to your flat. For more than half of the time you were silent. It drove you crazy not knowing what exactly was on his mind. Drunk Tommy was fairly new for you. He was unpredictable, especially when he had too much. But you liked his rebellious side, you found it remarkable attractive. You were only a few minutes from your home away when he finally spoke up. “Y/n?” “Hm?” You hummed in response, acting like you hadn´t waited the past minutes for him to speak up about what he wanted. “You know dad always hoped that we´d marry.” You huffed. “I know.” “Do you know I hoped so as well?” You stopped, looking up to his steel blue eyes. “What do you mean, Thomas?” And then, without a warning he leaned down and pressed his lips sloppily on yours. He wished he hadn´t been that drunk, that the first kiss wouldn´t be so messy. You pulled back, the action took you by surprise and stumbled a few steps back. He could´ve slapped himself. Good job, you fucked it up! “I´m sorry Y/n, I don´t know what has gotten into me.” You tried to calm down your breathing and after a few second you were able to look back into his eyes. “Maybe you should sleep off the whisky.” You suggested and he chuckled sadly. “You´re right.” He was hurt and for once, he couldn´t show it to you. You had pulled back, you didn´t want him. And the worst part? He was relieved! He hated when he drifted off in the middle of a meeting just because he suddenly thought about you. He hated it because he was afraid. Damn right, Thomas Shelby was afraid. Afraid to lose his best friend.

He turned to leave, but suddenly you grabbed his arm. “Maybe… Maybe you shouldn´t go back on your own. You´re not in the best condition.” You admitted and smiled at him devilishly. Oh, how he had missed that smile. And then you pressed your lips against his. First, he didn´t respond, but when finally realizing that you were actually kissing him back, his hands cupped your face and pulled you closer. He literally pulled you off your feet and carried you to your flat. (You still don´t know how he did that.) But when arriving at the front door of your house he already pushed you against the doorframe, his kisses getting more passionate and less sloppy. While his kisses even travelled down your neck you fiddled the key into the keyhole and opened the door. You walked up the stairs, there was no light in the house. Under you lived an elderly woman who went to bed early. She seemed nice but if you were honest, you didn´t talk much with her. One hand laid on the railing while the other hand pulled Tommy up behind you. He didn´t know the house like you did, but he trusted you and followed you through the dark. When you finally entered your flat and you turned on a small candle, he could finally see your face again.

“Do you know how often I had thought about kissing you?” He admitted and you watched the flame reflect in his orbs. “Why didn´t you do it?” He swallowed and pushed a strand of your hair, his finger travelling down the side of your face to your neck. “I was afraid”, he admitted. You smiled softly, grabbing his face with both of your hands. “Thomas Shelby, whatever happens, I will always be there for you, no matter what. I promise.”

 “I´ll come back, I promise.” Thomas nodded, his head leaning against yours. Tears had dried against your cheek, it didn´t help anymore. War had settled between humanity and desire for power and men were called to fight. “Tommy, we gotta go”, his father stepped to the two of you. To his right Arthur, fear and pain in his eyes. Neither of them wanted to go. “Bring him back to me, will you?” You asked and he nodded, his eyes travelling to the ground. Tommy´s hands were still grabbing your waist, but you felt the cold when he left your starving touch. A last time, he pressed his lips on yours. “I love you, Y/N.” A sob escaped your lips again. “And I love you, Thomas Shelby and if you don´t come back, I´ll come and get you myself.”

[imagines-r-s]

sheriff’s daughter

JJ Maybank x Shoupe! reader 

Summary: the one where even the dad knows about JJ’s feelings

Warning: swearing?? seems likely 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

WC: 1,734

A/N: I finished summer school, so your girl actually has time to write now, without my mom getting mad. oops. alsoooooo, obviously had to write JJ as Jesse James yet again. 

“y/n, I work the night shift tonight, so you know the drill. Stay safe and I don’t want a repeat of last time.” You smirked at the thought of how you had invited your friends over and all of you were either high or drunk of your asses, or both. 

“Yeah, of course not, Dad. I know the drill. Be careful.” You closed the door as he left, making sure he was on his way to the station before texting the pogues to come over. 

Living directly in-between figure 8 and the cut was a very interesting ordeal, being the interim sheriff’s daughter was even more interesting. Your dad wasn’t exactly strict, but he made sure you knew right from wrong and that he had high expectations for you. Although many people thought otherwise, your dad was pretty chill--all things considered. 

You were close with just as many kooks as pogues. You spent most of your time with Kie, Pope, JJ, Sarah, and JB; but you also spent time with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. Your days were spent either on the HMS pogue or golfing with the boys.

Shortly after you texted the group chat, the doorbell rang, to which you quickly answered. “Hey, bitches.” They all followed you into your house, your house wasn’t as big as the houses in figure 8, but it was a decent size. The pogues were all able to fit comfortably on the furniture in your living room. “Shouldn’t the sheriff’s daughter not use that sort of language?” you heard JJ say.

JJ and you had a friendship that was a lot different than what you had with the other pogues. Your dad knew about everything that happened with JJ and his father, Luke, and he always tried to keep an eye out for JJ. There had been multiple times that JJ had shown up at your house seeking refuge and safe haven.

“The sheriff uses the same language, so, that’s on him,” you replied. “Anyways, bitches, you know the drill, drinks in the cabinet, Netflix already open, and food in the fridge. I’ll be back down in a minute, I have to change.”

“Ooh, can I come with?” you heard JJ say, to which you flipped him off as you walked upstairs to your room. After changing into more comfortable clothes and putting your hair up, you made your way downstairs. 

As you made your way into the living room, you took a seat next to JJ seeing as it was the only open seat. John B and Sarah sat together while Pope and Kie sat next to each other. The boys were still debating on what movie to pick, as you usually switched who picked the movies between the six of you. It only took them about 15 minutes to finally decide on watching Avengers: Endgame for the hundredth time. 

“Wait, before we actually start the movie, how many of you guys are staying the night?” it wasn’t in any way uncommon for any of them to stay at your house after a movie night, it was often a safer alternative than any of them going home in whatever state they ended up in. 

“My parents want me home before midnight,” Pope said. 

“I work the morning shift tomorrow morning and my dad will kill me if I miss another morning shift,” Kie answered. 

“Me and Sarah are going on the Pogue tomorrow morning, so we’re going home later,” John B said. 

Everyone turned to JJ as he was the only one who didn’t say anything, they all knew he wouldn’t go home; so it was either here or the chateau. “Considering I don’t want to hear JB and Sarah macking, here it is.”

Rolling your eyes and flicking his forehead in response, “don’t sound too happy there, J. Anyways, I’m going to go and get some popcorn, be right back.”

JJ watched as you walked towards the kitchen, “so, when are you going to tell her?” Kie said, breaking the silence in the room. “Kie, there’s nothing for me to tell her.”

“I don’t have much context, but if you’re talking about y/n, there’s obviously a lot to tell,” Sarah interrupted the two. 

“Like I said, there’s nothing to tell,” JJ left it at that. Before anyone else could say anything, you came back into the room with the three bowls of popcorn. Quietly, handing the bowls to the two couples across from you and then handing it to JJ. “Uh, everything ok?” you asked quietly, glancing around the room. “Yeah, y/n/n it’s all good, I promise,” JJ said, trying to convince and reassure the both of you. 

As the movie went on, you laid your head on JJ’s lap-which you had done many times before. JJ subconsciously started playing with your hair, which didn’t help in your efforts to stay up. The soundtrack of the movie became quieter as you let sleep overtake you. 

“Well, guys, we’re going to go to get home before midnight,” Pope said, standing up, to which Kie quickly followed. “Awe, she’s asleep. JJ, you’re going to have to tell her at some point, you know,” Kie said before she and Pope left. 

“Dude, you are so whipped. Like obviously, I’m not one to talk, but geez,” John B said. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just start another movie.” Another movie started, but JJ wasn’t paying any attention to it. He wished he had the courage to bring up his feelings, but he was too scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of losing you. Scared that you would up and leave like anyone else in his life. 

The movie ended quicker than JJ had anticipated, “JB, would you make sure to lock the door whenever you leave, I have to get her to bed.”

“Yeah, of course, man. We’ll see you guys later.” 

And with that, it was just the two of you in the house. JJ had gotten the remote and started some random show that he had started before. He stayed up for the rest of the night, just making sure that you slept well. 

At around 5 am, he heard your door being unlocked, assuming it was your dad he wasn’t too worried. “Hey, Shoupe.”

“Hey, kid. She sober this time around?” he questioned, seeing you asleep on the teenager’s lap. “I made sure to keep her in check, as always. I am the only good influence in her life.”

“Now, son, I wouldn’t go that far. You are definitely the worst influence in her life.”

“Nah, she’s definitely the worst influence in my life.”

“Whatever you say, son,” Shoupe made his way towards the kitchen to get some water, finally sitting down across from JJ in the living room, “have you slept?” “Uh, no, I-I couldn’t really sleep, you know,” he was trying to come up with a response that didn’t make everything too obvious. “Have you told her yet?” Shoupe asked, throwing JJ off. 

“I d-don’t know what you mean.”

“No one would stay up, let her sleep on their lap, take care of her, and whatever else the hell you do if they didn’t love her.” 

“I don’t-”

“Son, it’s ok. Just don’t be stupid or hurt her, I do keep a gun on me,” and with that Shoupe went back upstairs, leaving JJ to his thoughts. JJ was finally able to go to sleep that night, knowing that you were safe and he was safe and that things were ok, even if just for a little while. 

JJ woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon going throughout the house. When he walked over to the kitchen, he saw that you were eating breakfast, assuming that your dad had gone back to bed or work. He took notice of how messy your hair was or how some flour from the pancakes had gotten on your clothes. “Earth to JJ,” you giggled, “how many pancakes you want?”

“I’ll take two.” The two of you ate in silence. “J, I need to, uh, ask you about something.”

“Ask away, my dear,” he said, taking a bite of his pancakes.

“Did you mean everything you said when my dad got home?” He was clearly confused based on just the look on his face, but you could see the realization dawn on him. “I- uh, yeah. Yeah, I meant it. Obviously, I understand if you don’t feel the same or if it messes up anything, or if you want me to go, I don’t know where this leaves us, but I meant every word.”

“J, chill out. You don’t have to leave or anything like that, I promise, I just wanted to know. This doesn’t change anything because I feel the same and I thought it was obvious. But we all know how oblivious you are buddy,” walking over to ruffle his hair a little before hugging him from behind, “it was funny when JB talked about how whipped you are, though.” 

JJ looked at you, only to see a smirk on your face,” you were awake the. whole. Time?” Seeing JJ stand up, you quickly took steps back, “what can I say? I’m a light sleeper.” You quickly took off in a run to avoid the boy heading in your direction. 

“Y/n y/m/n Shoupe, I hate you,” JJ quickly chased close behind you. “Not according to what you said last night, lover boy.” 

You made your way towards your front door, ready to run out before he could catch up with you, but by the time you opened the door, a hand pushed it back closed. Turning around you were face-to-face with the blue-eyed boy you knew so well, “hi,” you squeaked. “Hi, did you mean it?”

“Yeah, I meant every word- especially how funny it was that JB called you ou-” the end of your sentence was muffled when his lips met yours, in a long-awaited kiss. When the two of you broke apart, you saw the smile beaming on JJ’s face and he saw the smile on yours. 

“Jesse James Maybank, if I ever see you kiss my little girl in my house again, I will throw you out, I don’t care. Also, finally glad you grew a pair and told her,” you heard your dad say before getting his mug of coffee. 

“Yes, sir,” he jokingly saluted. 

[spicyhokage]

Bill denbrough x reader // choking kink

Note: this is my first smut 😅 and it literally took me like two months to write. plus I forgot half of the story and I’m too lazy to read it over, so if it’s not matching up then 🤷🏻‍♀️ anyways enjoy.

Warnings: Smut, Choking kink, Big dick bill energy, Teasing, and Dick riding.

Word count: 2111 (I think it’s somewhere around that so 🤷🏻‍♀️)

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Bill’s parents left on a two-week vacation to celebrate their 21st anniversary of being together. Leaving bill alone by himself and in charge of the house. They knew bill is a good boy he’s never did anything bad. he’s a loyal kid and listens. they don’t have to give him rules like ‘don’t have a party' or whatever because they trust him. So that’s why they left the boy. He’s 17 They know he’s not dumb enough to trash their home and he’s old enough to be on his own for just two weeks.

And bill is taking his alone time to his vantage. He finally relaxed and gotten the most sleep he had in weeks. He enjoyed

His time by himself. nothing, but him and his thoughts.

Before bill’s parents left they worked him to death by making him clean the whole entire house from top to bottom while they packed. by the time bill was done the house practically looked like Disney on ice. not only did that ware billy boy out, but he also had shit loads of homework to do. Making Bill the most miserable he has ever felt that day.

Y/n bill’s girlfriend of two years and best friend of four. had known all of this since bill called her last night at 4 am crying about how stressed he felt from school and wore out from cleaning. he literally can’t wait for his parents to leave. which they did just a few hours ago.

Bill and y/n have never spent as much time together now these days. all they do is pass each other in the school halls seeing as they have totally different schedules and are always busy while the other is not. The most they been doing for the past three months now is late-night phone calls and even that is once in a while since they always fall asleep due to the lack of energy from their day.

That’s why y/n seen this as the perfect opportunity to come over and surprise bill. They can have a movie night and cuddle. And boy does y/n miss bill’s cuddles. She was practically squealing to herself while walking to his house.

As soon as she got there she checked the door to see if it was open before knocking. And of course it was open.

'That’s a stupid move but you’re lucky I love you denbrough' y/n thought as she walked in the house closing the door and locking it quietly as possible. not wanting to disturb her boyfriend if he was asleep. Which he wasn’t he was actually laying down on the couch listening to music with his walkman.

Sneaking on the boy she jumps on top of him. Causing his eyes to shoot open in fear, but he quickly becomes relieved that it’s just his girlfriend. he wraps his arms around her closing his eyes once more. It takes a minute before it clicks to him that ITS HIS GIRLFRIEND WHO HE HASNT SEEN IN MONTHS. And then his eyes shoot back up and he takes his earphones out pulling her closer to him and kissing her all over her face causing her to giggle. "I missed you too." She says between laughs. "What you doing here?" He pulls himself up a bit so now he’s sitting with her in his lap. "I wanted to see you since we haven’t really had time for ourselves, also I really missed your cuddles." Y/n says wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "I missed your kisses," Bill mumbles against her lips. "Hm" she hums in response.

What started out as soft kisses soon turned into a make-out session yet to bill and y/n it was no surprise. Bill was now hovering over her while making out instead of her being in his lap like before. As bill goes to cup her cheek his hand goes around her neck and squeezes a bit on accident. Taking y/n by shock and causing her to moan into his mouth. Knowing what he did bill quickly pulls away. "I- I’m sorry y/n I didn’t m- m- mean it. I was-" bill’s apologize gets cut off by y/n’s lips back on his. Pulling away. she whispers in his ear "do it again." Bill looks at her with wide eyes. a bit confused then looks back down to his hand that was wrapped around her throat earlier as if he’s debating if he should do it again. He looks back at her only now realizing the lust that fills her eyes that’s staring back up at him and his confusion clears as it’s very obvious now. he smirks and wraps his hands around her throat again. "You like this don’t you?" He questions. All she does is nod while biting back on her lip as she watches Bill’s next move. "I never knew you were into choking" Bill says, squeezing her neck causing a loud moan to leave her mouth. She looks at his hand that’s around her throat as the veins pop out of his arm while he chokes her. And she presses her legs together. as she feels herself aching just at the sight. Bill still smirking from the fact that he found her horny weakness pays close attention to her movements. "is it the choking that turns you on or my hands?" He asks, "both." Y/n manages to get out as he still chokes her. "Choking kink and hand fetish. Who would have known." He chuckles softly. "So tell me, what is it exactly that you find so attractive about my hands?" Not getting a response right away he squeezes tighter. "Use your words, princess"

"veins" she gasps out while he keeps his tight hold around her neck. He chuckles "you’re so hot when your helpless and needy" going down to kiss her. She whimpers into the kiss giving Bill the advantage to slide his tongue in her mouth. While his mouth worked wonders against hers his hand that was around her neck starts traveling down her body making it’s way to her pants slipping his hand in he pulls back the waistband of her panties causing it to slap back into her skin making her whimper again. "Quit being such a tease" she mumbles against his lips. "Someone can’t wait" he mumbled back as he toys with her panties. Getting impatient she was about to beg him to do something when he pushes two fingers in her making her gasp in shock. He slowly pumps his fingers while his lips find it’s way to her neck sucking and biting.

"Hm, so wet for me already?" He teases. "Can you shut up." She moans out. His lips travel to her ear ” Where’s the fun in that?" he questions his hot breath blowing into her ear making her shiver in pleasure. finally having enough of his games she quickly flips them over causing bill’s fingers to flea out of her as she was now on top of him her hands go to his pants pulling them down in seconds. He chuckles ” Not a fan of my slow and steady pace. Are we?"

"Just shut up and let me suck your dick." She shots back making him groan in response. she softly kisses him on the lips before making her way down his body. Once she gets to where he needs her most she slowly pulls his boxers down. Taking her time with him as he did with her. His erection is practically at his stomach. which makes her eyes go wide for a second. it seems like y/n forgets how big bill’s dick actually is judging by the fact that every time she sees him it’s like it’s the first time she saw him. she lowers her face blowing hot air on his cock making his hips buck up trying to get a little friction. "Please." He begs. "See, it’s not fun being the one getting teased now is it?" She smirks. "Just do something." He begs her once more. She takes his cock and slowly licks from the base to the head then licks the tip making his eyes roll back in pleasure before she takes him fully until his cock hits the back of her throat. His breath hitches as she starts bobbing her head at a fast past, but not too much that she can’t handle. Bill’s hand finds it’s way to her head tangling his hand in her hair as he guides her mouth up and down his member. he rolled his hips while he thrust into her as she pumps the rest that couldn’t fit. She hollows her checks trying to create a better friction. He was getting closer to cumming she could tell by his quick breaths and the way his dick started twitching in her mouth ‘that was fast.' She thought to herself. She picked up her speed causing him to gasp loudly. He was so close.

"Just like that y/n, you’re such a good girl." He moans out. He could feel himself on the very edge of cumming. Just when he was about to release she pulls her mouth from his member with a little pop sound. Wiping the drool off her chin. He whines in frustration. "W-why did you sto-" "I’ll rather have you finish inside me." She cuts him off and climbs back on top of him. grinding on his cock. desperate for any friction to help relieve her throbbing clit. Bill groans in response while throwing his head back on the armrest of the couch. she knows Bill isn’t gonna last very long so she pulls her panties down completely. And guides his cock to her wet entrance. with this bill lets out a shaky moan at the contact. They both softly moan as she slowly sinks down on his length. A dull ache fills her as she steadies herself and feels Bill’s hand come up around her neck. She looks at him startled, placing her hand on his and moving it to be right where she needs him. until he’s fully inside of her.

Not wanting to wait she places her hands on his chest as she rides out her pain until it becomes pleasure. His hips snap up as he looks at her tensely. She can feel his fingers curl around her throat, placing pressure, not on her windpipe but pausing the airflow and the pleasure makes her headspin. Moans spill from her lips with soft ease, and Bill keens at the way she seems to take him so much better like this. He releases his hand to be safe but leaves it there and she whines at the loss. he bucks his hips up into hers again as she rocks down onto him. he wasn't going to last long, they both knew that. the base of him grinds against her clit as he thrusts up into her. with every thrust, he hits that spot inside of her, making her eyes roll back from the amount of pleasure over looting her. she bounces on him speed picking up. he can tell she’s getting closer. The only sounds in the empty house are their hips slapping together and her soft moans mixed with his low groans. Her walls clenching on him tighter makes his hand that was holding her neck pulling her down to connect their lips. "I’m not gonna last long so you better cum now," Bill says against her lips, his words alone were enough to make her a moaning mess. Her walls clench harder as he whispers dirty things to her knowing very well that it’s a weakness of hers. "Bill i- I’m." she cuts her own self off with a loud moan. And bill can’t help but chuckle. "I know baby, go ahead." with his permission her eyes roll back as she cums on top of him. the sight of her orgasming on top of him was enough for him to cum as well. She rides out both of their highs. she whines as she pulls him out of her, both of their cum covered the inside of her thighs. She collapses on top of him staying like that as they catch both their breath.

"We should do this more often."

"Yeah, if I knew you had a choking kink before then I probably would have fucked you every chance I got."

"Would it matter? choking kink or not you’ll still fuck me every chance you get."

"True."

[adiabolikpastel]

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Laito pt. 1

Rating: PG 13

Word Count: 1,576

Pairing: Laito x Yuki (m/m)

ღ Living with Laito has it's challenges, but Yuki just wants to try to make things right - but were they ever? ღ

Mun Yu: This is going to be presented a little different than my other written works. Since it is so long, I have decided to publish it in parts, rather than the novel that it is. Each boy will receive their own post, some getting more post than others. For each post, it will make a sort of time line of events - to help paint the entire story. All post will begin with the premise, and the continuation under the cut. Enjoy.

Additionally: I would love to thank @akai-anemone for their wonderful analysis on the affects of the Lunar Eclipse in DL

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening.

With Yuki still in school, there were large hours where he was unable to see Laito. He longed to simply quit, but his keeper wouldn’t allow that. Dr. Reinhart had been nothing but kind and accommodating to him. So there was no way he could disrespect him in that way. The doctor was already understanding of his desire to leave the Sakamaki’s manor with Laito.

It was under the condition that he be responsible, so Yuki got a job during the day. In the mornings he would work at a coffee shop. It was a miracle that he even got the job – but Yuki was fairly sure Laito secured it for him. Laito was so kind! There was no way he would have been able to do it on his own.

He was actually surprised that he wasn’t fired. Yuki was never loud enough for customers to hear, and people in the morning can be really angry! Yet here he was, at 7 am, working. He’d had this job for a couple of months now. On this particular morning, he would be there until noon, which wasn’t too bad.

“H-How can I help you?” Yuki asked, as the next guest came up to the register. They ordered very quickly, “Ua… I’m sorry… Could you say that one more time?” He was able to understand it a little better, “One… um… Do you want that with regular milk or-" The guest glares at him, “S-Sorry! My… I don’t work that fast so if you could…” They repeat to him once more, this time much slower. “Thank you… We’ll get that ready for you…” He offers them a smile and they go down to the other window.

The day continues like this, though most people are less patient. Finally his shift comes to an end, and the manager calls him into her office. “You… asked to see me?” She directs him to sit as she finishes sending a text. Yuki obeys, sitting in the small chair, fidgeting slightly.

It feels like forever before she finally acknowledges him. Telling him finally that his work ethic is there, but he has no talent for customer service. However, she would be willing to keep him on, if he gave her his ‘friends’ number. She goes on to say that after they hooked up a few times, he’s never given her a phone number to call him at.

Yuki sat motionless for a moment. It wasn’t as if the news was surprising. Laito had always slept around. However, this felt dirty. “… I’m sorry ma’am… Senpai doesn’t have a number to call. So… if that’s all…” He needed to get out of here. It was taking all of his strength not to throw up. The manager tries to start talking again, but Yuki excuses himself and rushes out of the shop.

He ran as far as he could, before his stomach couldn’t take it anymore. Moving away from others, he can’t help but lurch over and let his body cope. It felt awful. Not just the act of heaving, but the pain in his chest to go with it. Why was everything like this? Yuki could feel tears sting as he lowered himself into a crouch.

What was he lacking? Was it so bad that he was a man? Wasn’t it enough to love Laito more than anything? Why was this so hard? Yuki couldn’t even answer himself as the tears fell onto the ground. What was he doing all of this for? After allowing himself a moment to calm down, Yuki walked home. Normally, he would use this time to jog, but he didn’t think it was smart to do that today.

He and Laito were renting a luxurious apartment, which Laito mostly ‘paid’ for. Yuki wasn’t sure how he did, but decided it was a vampire thing. The little money that Yuki made himself, went to keeping food in the house. Even though Laito ate that too. As Yuki entered, all the lights were switched off. This was normal, as Laito was probably sleeping.

Yuki moved as quietly as possible, and walked over to his ‘room’. Laito didn’t want to get any more space than needed, so if Yuki was adamant on living with him – he would have to be on the coach. Today this all seemed to bother him. Perhaps it was because he never got to see Laito anymore, even though they lived together. With school, work, and who knows what Laito does – it was as if the two were strangers.

Perhaps that is what hurt the most? Why all these thoughts and worries ran through his head. Yuki decided that it was not the time to think too hard on it – as he was exhausted. So the small human used the restroom to change, get ready for bed, and tucked himself into bed. Determined that tomorrow night he would see Laito.

“Huh!? How did you find me?” Laito’s voice startled Yuki awake. Shooting up in worry he looks around to see Laito sitting at the breakfast counter. Nude it would seem, aside from his headband. Before him was a raven, but it wasn’t making any sounds. “I do not plan to ever go back there.” Laito affirms to the bird.

Yuki sits up and scuttles to the restroom while Laito finishes his conversation. When he comes out, the vampire is pouting while eating some cereal. “Even when I'm gone they expect me to do these things. I cannot believe this.” Yuki walks into the kitchen to prepare himself some food, but all the cereal is gone. “… Laito-senpai… are we all out of-?”

“Hm? Oh… I didn’t see you there.” Laito smirks at the human before him. “Sorry~ I was so hungry after… well… you get it. Ah, but you have no school tonight right~ Go to the store and buy some more.” He finishes the last bites of his own.

Yuki nods softly, deciding that he didn’t need breakfast anyway. “Senpai… I was… could we maybe… tonight…”

“Ehh? Laito-kun has plans tonight. Not to mention my glasses wearing older brother, has told me to come home.” He says, sighing and walking back to his room. In a bit of a panic, Yuki follows after him. Laito tries to shut his door, but Yuki gets in the way, squeaking in pain for a moment. “What is it, Stalker-kun?”

Yuki held onto Laito’s door, he wanted to ask him if he could go with him. Wanted to tell him about yesterday. He didn’t want to be left alone in this place. “C-Could I… we could go… together! That would be… better right… I mean…”

Laito looks down at the human trembling in the doorway. Then out into the living room. The place was well kept, but it had Yuki’s things everywhere. His school books, clothes, blankets. “When are you going to get it?” He finally says. Yuki looks up at him confused. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough? I am annoyed with seeing you all the time.”

Yuki's heart thumped in his ears. He could barely hear what Laito was saying. He was annoyed with him? They barely got to see one another, and he was annoyed. “M-Maybe if we… were actually able to… to sp-spend time together… l-like before…!” Yuki could feel his fist gripping tighter to Laito’s door. He didn’t know what to do or say.

Laito let out a tsk, “I am able to do as I please now – though clearly not as much as I had thought. Why would I need to keep you around? I do not need your blood. I do not need your body. Fufu…” Laito reaches down and takes a hold of Yuki’s chin, “You are an eyesore to me…. And I want you out.” Without another word, Laito effortlessly pulled Yuki from the door. Tossed him slightly out of the way, and closed the door behind him.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ ﾟ ｡. +ﾟ ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ TO BE CONTINUED ☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡