#That said do NOT go and send him hate anons or whatever
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writingdarling · 12 hours ago
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Hiii i dont know how to word this im awkward sorry but could i request reader x killerchat dateables with reader thats like trying different ways to murder but the media thinks theres a lot of new killer merging? When reader reveals their killername its either like a lot of names and sounds unbelievable or just one name with a few murders? IM NOT GOOD AT EXPLAINING SORRY! You can change anything if you like or dont understand! Or ignore this if you want to
I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH ANON
UGHHHHHH IT'S SO CREATIVE
I feel like even I can't do it as much justice as it deserves
I did add on one extra thing, where reader will imitate whatever their love interests murder styles are cause I thought that was adorable
Killer Chat L.I’s & Indecisive!Reader (Serial Killer vers)
Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence
Premise:
You, a journalist by day, serial killer by night, tend to be….well, indecisive about your killing methods. You have your old reliable weapons and strategies yeah, but you can’t help but want to try out new tactics, new weapons ! But of course, the media tends to group similar kills to just one name, so of course, you end up with more than a few aliases.
And maybe, after you join the server, you tend to take inspiration from the other killers around you too…
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Ronin
On all of his background checks, before he even sends you the link to the server, everything points to you just being a uninspired writer, trying and failing to write up a serial killer character
A young, newly employed journalist, who tends to write news about “The Butcher” or “The Heartsick Angel”. Who asks too many questions about killing methods.
He doesn’t send the link as a way to invite you into his world, no.��
He invites you just to watch you squirm
But when you do arrive..
You fit in almost instantly, giggling at cannibalism jokes they throw around like nothing, answering questions about your favourite murder weapon like you know it by heart
Either you're really, really into your main character or..
When Ronin video calls you, he swears you’re literally shining
You don’t even let him finish his first sarcastic sentence, cutting him off to…compliment him ??? on his newest murder
“You  never answered the question I asked.” You pout at him through the screen
“...Hah, if you wanna know so bad, why not go out and kill with a crowbar yourself darlin’?”
You blink. Then a soft smile slips onto your face
“Won’t get mad if the media calls me your copycat right ?”
Ronin smirks. “Imitation is the best form of flattery babe, have at it.”
He wonders whether your trying to flip the tables, trying to toy with him like he was with you
The next day he watches the news talk about a “Butcher Copycat Killer”. 
He chokes on his coffee and rushes to video call you
“You said you wouldn’t be mad.” You mumble, half asleep, blood splatter still on your hand
“What the fuck.”
After that he eventually gets your real (and multiple) serial killer aliases and he’s speechless for once
“Fuck, you’re really…huh, remind me not to piss you off.”
He respects you more after that, especially when you start posting more murders, inspired by his own
Calls you his biggest fan and he's not wrong honestly. 
If you ever complain about having too many aliases for murder strategies you hate, Ronin will gladly kill some asshole and help you frame them as whatever alias you were trying to get rid off
“I guess you are useful, Butcher.”
“I'm always useful darlin’, you just haven't seen my true potential yet.”
Angel
“Do you actually do cannibalism or it that just a joke :(“
Angel stares at the message you send, half sad for you when she tells you that no, she does not actually eat her kills
“Oh….. Second question, would you mind if I take a page from your book and start sharpshooting?”
She thinks your multiple aliases and imitation kills are so very adorable
To her, it feels like you're a kid in a candy store, grabbing at any method of killing that strikes you as interesting 
She loves it, probably tells the entire server and eggs you on to copy each of their specialties
Angel loves taking you out for murder spree dates, usually entitled ass holes that both of you enjoy murdering
The Heartsick Angel and whatever alias you were using for the murder gets featured in so many news channels
Some channels even claim that Angel and you are a new, “Muder couple, similar to the likes of Bonnie and Clyde.”
Oh and if that didn't make Angel swoon enough, the amount of times you help her murder someone on her list before she can get to them definitely does
“Fuck, baby you are such a romantic~”
She's no Ronin but you two definitely tend to make out after a murderous date
Either in her home or in the victims house
(ik ik I'm losing the plot here sorry-) 
If V or Ronin gets on your ass about your “lacks of kills” on the alias you told them about (assuming you only told Angel and not everyone) 
Ohhh Angel will quite literally act like your guardian angel
She tells them off harshly
Ronin claims favouritism, V shuts up
And only you and her know the truth
“Maybe you should make a new name for yourself darling.”
Angel murmurs into your hair, freshly washed after a tryout with a chainsaw
“Something that matches my killer name maybe…”
Misaki
When you tell them about exactly how many aliases you were forced to create after trying out different murder tactics, the first thing she does is laugh at you
“That's– Hah! That's such a you thing babe, oh my gosh.”
But when you bring up maybe emulating their own style of killing well, Misaki gets so interested so fast
“Awwwww, you're so cute. ‘Course I could show you the ropes to being an assassin honey dumpling!”
The first mission you ever do, courtesy of Misaki giving you the job, they’re right there on voice chat
Their voice soothing you as you steady the gun, aiming just like she had taught you…. 
You make the kill, clean and simple
Misaki cheers so loud you nearly topple off the building you're on 
After that? Oh they're obsessed with your work
Somehow killing isn't so scary when they know you're on the other side of the world doing the exact same thing. 
And unlike Misaki, you are more than happy to ask V for a little favour… 
That favour being Misaki getting flown over to your town for a shared assassination
You almost don't complete the job, too focus on how right it feels to be right next to her as she angles their gun towards the first target
Once the job is done, you get to keep them with you for longer than necessary and for once, Misaki enjoys being pampered
If you show them all the methods you've learnt and tried out over the years they would be so fucking into it
“Oh yeah babe tell me exactly how you killed that guy with a butter knife.”
They even start picking up some of your weirder kills
goreboy: @ hitmeuppp how the tf did you kill this guy with a spray bottle
hitmeuppp: I gotta thank my prettiest pookie for that idea
V
He's… horrified at first
“How many innocent lives… how much blood..”
He changes his tune when you assure him you only kill shitty people though
“Oh thank god...I'm sorry for the assumption. Ronin seemed to have traumatised me more than anticipated.”
He's nicer to you after that, if a little awkward
Then suddenly he messages you an entire table with all of your aliases, along with suggested alibis and updated murder strategies. 
“I assume that juggling that many personas can be tiring, I thought I could help you with that mental load.”
V becomes your favourite person on that server real quick
You start asking him more personal questions, what knives he prefers, which animals take to the human meat better than others
“Hypothetically. If I were to…imitate your style of justice…would you mind?”
You don't see it but that question has him staring at his laptop for a while 
He answers back after 1 hour later
“I’m…flattered, truly. If you’d like I could send you more details concerning my methods.”
Do not believe how calm he sounds through text, this man is smiling so wide his cheeks hurt from behind the screen
After V checks out that you really would be a good fit for his more, carnivorous, animals, he gifts you a wolfdog and a wild safari cat, both acquired from illegal and abusive breeders
You make them absolutely delicious meals from your victims
V feels quite happy that he’s not the only non serial killer on the server anymore
Ronin calls him fucking delusional when he says exactly that and he video calls you and rants for 2 and a half hours about it
When you get too overwhelmed with the small details of each of your killer personas, you can always count on V to help you get things sorted out
If you two ever work on a case together ? Oh he acts so damn sweet and charming
“I suppose we could take a shortcut through the shopping district if you’d like, beloved.” (literally hunting a guy down)
When Ronin’s confrontation happens, he’s the first to come to your defense, with your blessing he sends the table he had previously made for you
“I know for a fact that they are a “serial killer”. Though I do still think that they are not in fact a “serial killer”, more of an agent of justice like myself-”
Ronin mutes him long enough to tell you that, sure he believes you
He has to with the way V quite literally goes on about how noble you are
V probably compliments you on how creative your kills tend to be
"It really is a miracle with how you can kill with the most brutal of weapons, and still leave the body intact for feed."
He smiles, soflty, genuinely at you through the screen
"Perhaps I should be taking some lessons from you as well."
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RAHHHHH
I feel like this isn't even my best work but I was writing through a fever lol so I hope this does your idea justice anon >:>
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darkmatilda · 4 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it's time to return the second favor. and for that reason, spencer finds himself invited by you...on a date?
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist!female reader, fake date at the bar, reader's ex makes an appearance, kinda inspired by blank space taylor swift
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5 k
𝐚/𝐧: anon's request
[unknown number] wake up pretty boy
[unknown number] time to pay your debt
Spencer, sitting on his bed with a book resting on his lap, stared at the message for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed. Evening, the warm glow of his lamp making it easy to read. He had the next day off, no real plans, just a quiet night ahead. The sudden chime of his phone had caught him off guard.
For a split second, he was surprised—but he didn’t have to think too hard to guess who the sender was.
He typed out how did you get my number, then deleted it before hitting send. Something else was far more interesting. And a little concerning. That second message. Pay your debt. She remembered about that now, at this hour?
Before he could ask, another text came in.
[unknown number] taking you on a date
[unknown number] dress nice
For a moment, deeply confused, he just stared at his phone, already sensing somewhere deep inside that this was going to be a really weird night.
[spencer] What do you mean by ‘date’?
A minute or two passed. He didn’t put his phone down. Didn’t even look away from the screen.
[unknown number] the one who asks questions loses his way
His fingers moved automatically.
[spencer] That’s not how the saying goes
✓ Seen 10:12 pm
Reid sighed. He had absolutely no plans to go out that evening, and he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t been given any details about this so-called date. Unless she was joking? There was something off about this—some kind of trick, a twist he hadn’t figured out yet.
The only thing stopping him from ignoring her messages—something he very much wanted to do—was the simple fact that he did owe her. Technically, twice. Though he had managed to repay one of those debts in an easy way, requiring almost no effort on his part.
He had a feeling this second one wouldn’t be nearly as simple.
And now he found himself wondering what exactly she meant by dress nicely.
*
"Wait, one more time. We’re going there as her… what?"
"Mental support," she said, moving forward with that usual quick stride of hers, the sharp tapping of her heels almost aggressive. Whether unconsciously or fully aware but not caring, she got a few steps ahead of him, speaking without turning back. Her voice hung in the night, street air.
Spencer hated when she did that. It made him feel like a dog on a leash. He sped up to match her pace.
"Well, I heard you," he scoffed. "Doesn’t mean I get what you mean. And maybe you should clue me in if I’m supposed to be part of…whatever this is” 
She stopped with a sigh so heavy it was as if giving him any details about something he was supposed to be part of was beyond her patience and strength. Hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, he gave her a questioning look as she finally turned to face him.
His gaze dropped—quick, casual. Or at least, that’s how he thought it looked. Even at night, under the less-than-ideal glow of the streetlights, he could register how her outfit hugged her figure, emphasizing every curve.
At work, she dressed more formally. With her looks, that face, and the unshakable confidence she carried, she could probably make a burlap sack look like a designer gown. But Spencer had noticed something about the way she dressed for nights like this. Or rather, the way she became something else entirely. Like she belonged to the night, completely in her element.
Quick, casual glance—yeah, right.
To make the situation even more embarrassing, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, demanding his attention.
"Alright, listen up," she started, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I’m explaining this one last time. My friend, Liv—you might know her from my team…"
"Olivia, you mean," He said her full name in confirmation, recognizing the woman he had indeed seen before.
"Do you really have to correct me on how I call my own friends? Anyway, fine. Olivia has a date tonight with some guy she met online. The thing is, Olivia is a hopeless romantic who’s waiting for the love of her life to magically show up at her door, but she’s also buried in work and can’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Plus, she’s a little worried about ending up with some psycho. You know what I mean."
"All too well," he nodded, recalling all the missing persons cases that had started exactly like this—an online match gone wrong.
“Exactly. So Olivia asked me to come along. You know, for physical backup if anything goes sideways. And mental backup. Just to make her feel safer."
Well, he didn’t want to praise her out loud, but it was…nice of her. Okay, nice wasn’t the perfect word—honestly, the fact that she even had to do something like this was a little bitter at its core—but it didn’t change the fact that she was being a good friend.
He watched her for a moment, not even realizing he had gone quiet. He realized he’d never actually seen her interact with her people, her team, but he had somehow assumed their dynamic was more… detached. Not that she genuinely considered them her friends and actually cared.
"Finally caught up, genius?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.
Spencer snapped out of it. Okay, so maybe she cared about her friends—but she was still seriously unbearable.
"I get it. Except for one thing," he replied, matching her slightly rude tone, one that made him sound almost offended. She raised a brow, nodded as if giving him permission to continue, and started walking again—this time at a slower pace.
Actually, they were moving at almost the same rhythm now, nearly side by side.
"Why do you need me for this?"
Their eyes met, but this time, she didn’t look like she was about to mock him. In fact, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, as if she thought that was a very good question.
"Because tonight, pretty boy, I plan to stay completely on the sidelines," she explained. "Not interfering with my friend or her date in any way. Being completely invisible."
"Invisible?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.
It wasn’t even just about what she was wearing. Drawing attention was simply an unavoidable part of her presence. She nodded in confirmation.
"Exactly. But I figured that to keep away all the desperate guys trying to get my number, all I need to do is bring one with me," she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "You’re gonna be my scarecrow."
Spencer's mouth fell slightly open, completely at a loss for words.
"You…you are just… just…"
"Amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful…"
"Shameless. That’s the word"
For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression filled with a strange kind of complacency.
"Love when you compliment me," she said in an overly sweet tone.
"That wasn’t—" he started, but then cut himself off, realizing there was probably no point in arguing with her. He sighed.
"You’re welcome."
*
Despite the late hour, the bar wasn’t overcrowded. Sure, there were plenty of people inside, but most were engaged in quiet conversations over their drinks. Spencer noticed quite a few couples. As if they were one of them, they found a secluded spot in the corner, right next to a small pool table made of dark wood with a striking green surface.
"That’s them," the woman discreetly motioned with her head toward the pair at the bar— a cascade of blonde curls and the man accompanying her. She fixed them with an assessing gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hm. He looks like his pictures. I’ll take that as the first good sign."
"She shows you pictures of her dates?"
"Every single time. We rate them on a scale from one to ten."
Spencer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. His gaze briefly shifted in their direction, though he made sure not to stare, not wanting to make them look weird. The pair seemed to be talking a little shyly—it was obvious this was their first meeting.
“So,” he started. “Is this what we’re going to do all night? Just stand here?”
“Basically, yeah. I mean, we don’t have to just stand around like a couple of creeps, staring at them. We can enjoy our date. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be fun,” she said, slowly circling the pool table until they were on opposite sides.
She slipped off her outer layer, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice that her outfit underneath did anything but help her stay invisible. Reaching for a pool cue, she nodded at him.
“What are you waiting for?”
“You want to play?”
“No, I want to duel you with the cues,” she scoffed. “I’m a professional, you know.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed a cue of his own.
"Professional?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mhm. World championships and all that. But that was a while ago. Then came the injury, and I had to say goodbye to my career. After that, I had no idea what to do with myself, so I became a chemist," she said, with a casual shrug.
He chuckled at the made-up story, setting the pool balls up into a perfect triangle at the center of the table. Once they were ready, he gestured for her to go ahead.
She refused with an exaggerated, almost overly generous smile. "Oh, no. Amateurs go first."
He held back a roll of his eyes, leaning over the table. The balls scattered across the surface, and from that point on, he'd play with the cue ball. It was her turn now, and Spencer watched her movements closely.
"I didn't know your story before the FBI job was so fascinating," he remarked, trying to throw her off a little.
They hadn't made any bet, but there was a subtle competitiveness in him now.
She shrugged.
"I don't think it's fascinating. More tragic. Lost dreams."
"Right, sorry for my disregard. What kind of injury was it?"
She paused for a moment, focusing on her next shot. One of the balls sank smoothly into a pocket, and a small smile played on her lips.
"Shoulder," she replied casually. "Sometimes it still acts up. I have to go for regular massages."
"Poor thing," he said, his tone teasing.
Her gaze briefly scanned the entire bar, landing once again on her friend. Nothing seemed to bother her, so she returned to the game.
"We're playing just for fun? Don't you think that's a bit boring?"
"Sorry, I don’t want to bet with you again. Paying off debts with you is never easy."
"Come on. You’re having fun with me” 
"You think so?"
“No. I know it."
She potted another ball, gaining the upper hand. Spencer puffed his lips, deciding to focus more on the game. They both did, though it didn't stop them from continuously exchanging similar comments, remarks, and jabs. And despite the countless huffs and eye rolls, he had to admit, he was really having fun. With her.
And even more fun when he realized he was close to winning.
With a certain satisfaction, he noticed she was watching his moves with more attention, her eyes slightly narrowed with cool competition. As he leaned over the table again, she moved toward him lightly, almost as if tiptoeing. She passed by almost unnoticed. In fact, he only realized how close she was when her breath softly grazed the inside of his ear as she spoke in the voice of a social commentator.
"Ladies and gentlemen, to the surprise of the entire audience, amateur Spencer Reid has managed to take the lead," her whisper was laced with feigned suspense. Of course, he refrained from moving, making sure not to make a mistake from distraction. "Will he manage to win today's tournament?"
He straightened up with a sigh, which made her step back slightly. He gave her a look full of mock pity, and she responded by slowly blinking her eyes, imitating the gaze of an innocent angel.
"I'm pretty sure this counts as sabotage," he remarked.
She raised both hands in the air, as if defending herself against the accusation.
"Hey, I'm not doing anything," she denied, a subtle spark in her eye. She gave a quick nod toward the table. "Come on, finish it."
Spencer, uncertain and sensing she was up to something, tried to refocus. When he found the perfect angle and was about to hit the white ball, something nudged his elbow, causing it to roll in the completely wrong direction.
He directed a look at her, mouth open in indignation.
"This is... this is cheating, pure cheating..."
"No idea what you're talking about!" she shot back. She pretended to be serious, though in an incredibly clumsy way. Her lips kept trembling, trying to form a smile, and she struggled to suppress it. "I didn't do anything. Your hand must have slipped..."
At the sight of the expression on his face, she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. It mixed with the sound of his incessantly muttered, mildly irritated comments under his breath, which absolutely didn't reach her conscience. In fact, it seemed to only make her feel more smug. Spencer finally gave in, letting out a sigh.
"I demand a fair rematch."
With her arms crossed over her chest, she raised an eyebrow.
"Go ahead, then," she said, grabbing the cue stick again.
Her friend and her date were still deep in conversation, sitting much closer than before, with small smiles on their faces. They didn't seem like they were in any hurry to end the evening. A few new people had arrived at the bar, making it louder, but Spencer didn't even notice. He was completely focused on this small, occupied space between them where they were slowly giving in to the growing rivalry, even though nothing had been wagered. It was probably just about pride.
His opponent was doing everything in her power to make his game harder. He'd abandoned all pretenses of fairness and stood right beside her whenever she leaned over the pool table. He didn't even intend to nudge her—but when he was close, she assumed he would and became incredibly cautious, often elbowing him in the ribs to make space for herself to focus. Despite all of this, they were laughing. He even forgot for a moment that he had planned to spend the evening entirely differently.
They played a few more rounds, each of them winning the same number of games. He announced the next one, but before starting, he briefly disappeared into the bathroom. Simply because, well, he needed to use it.
As he washed his hands, he could hear the hum of conversations, laughter, and music, all muffled by the door. It felt a bit warm, despite the fact that he'd taken off his jacket a while ago. For some reason, he suddenly became self-conscious about how he looked, though he hadn't thought about it at all before. After all, it wasn’t like he was on a date with some woman he was trying to impress. Still, driven by some inner impulse, he fixed his hair and smoothed the fabric of his shirt with his hands, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while washing. He hesitated for a moment before lowering them again, surprised to sense someone's gaze on him.
The tall man with black hair, a rather sturdy build, and narrow glasses on his nose didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at him. Spencer wasn’t sure if he should just walk away, but something made him raise an eyebrow skeptically. He had no idea what was going on.
“Do we know each other?” he asked, genuinely considering the possibility.
He couldn’t recall this man from anywhere, which, given his memory, pretty much ruled out the idea.
“No,” the man replied briefly but confidently, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he added, “But I know your friend. I know her well.”
Reid stood still for a moment, embarrassingly slow to realize which friend the man was referring to. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that it struck him—this guy had likely been watching their game for a while and was talking about her. Before Spencer could say anything, the man continued.
“Actually, I used to date her. And listen, I’ve got some advice for you. Just give up on her.”
Spencer blinked, trying to process if he’d misheard.
“Beg your pardon...”
“I’m serious, man. Not because I’m jealous or anything like that,” he quickly clarified, raising both hands as if to declare his sincerity. “It’s just simple, you know, guy solidarity. Don’t waste your time.”
He was struck by a strange feeling that his conversation partner had some mistaken idea about their relationship. Besides, even though the man had clarified that he wasn’t jealous, he sure sounded like a jealous ex. Spencer knew he should just laugh it off and walk away. After all, he wasn’t dating her, didn’t intend to, and whatever the guy had to say about her shouldn’t matter. Yet, his legs refused to simply walk away.
Some curiosity, one he couldn’t shake off, took hold of him.
“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.
A slight smirk appeared on the man’s face as he noticed he had Spencer’s attention.
“I get that you might see something in her. She’s pretty, you have to give her that. At first, even...kind of charming in her arrogance. But once you get to know her...it’s a strong word, but you need to know, she’s fucking insane.”
The language seemed to twist strangely in his mouth.
“That doesn’t tell me much,” he replied dryly. “I mean, anyone could mean something different by saying fucking insane.”
The man scoffed with a bit of contempt. Spencer was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.
“Okay, you’re probably going to deny it and defend her because you like her, I’ve been there, I get it.”
Because I like her? He almost denied it but stopped himself, letting the man continue.
“She’s just insufferable in the long run. She acts like she knows everything, gives orders, always has to have the last damn word. And you know, at first, you think she’s just playing that part. And then she’ll start acting, well, you know…”
Spencer felt the urge to laugh.
“Submissive?” he suggested, the missing word that seemed to want to spill from the man’s mouth.
“Normally. Just normally.”
Something started to smell between them. A distinctive scent. Wounded male ego.
That alone was enough for Spencer to know not to take this conversation seriously. That alone was enough for him to know he could end this conversation whenever he wanted. But before he could take a single step away, he thought about the entire evening he'd spent with her. Everything, from the first message he’d received while still at his apartment.
He counted how many times during their meeting he’d just laughed, having more fun than he’d had in a while. In some unclear way, he felt he owed her that.
“Let me sum this up,” Spencer began, gesturing with his hand and never breaking eye contact with the man. “Because this, in its way, is strange to me. Funny, even, when you think about it.”
The man furrowed his brow, listening. Spencer remained unfazed as he continued.
“First, you met a commanding, confident, and, okay, a little cheeky woman. That didn’t scare you off, though, and you decided you wanted to start a relationship with her. And when it happened, you were surprised she was commanding and cheeky? You know, she doesn’t pretend she’s not like that. You knew what you were getting into.”
"Fine, you know what, this doesn’t make sense," the man sighed. "Do whatever you want. Just remember, I warned you. One day, you’ll be grateful for this."
"Maybe you're right," Spencer admitted, nodding slowly. "It doesn’t make sense."
The man gave him one last look before scoffing and walking away. Reid was left in the bathroom alone, actually reflecting for a moment on the entire conversation. He didn’t think he should have been a part of it at all. The guy must’ve assumed he was interested, or that they were dating. He didn’t have any insight into what their relationship really looked like. In any case, Spencer imagined what it would be like if another guy were in his place. Her actual date. I wonder if a conversation like that would make him turn away, push him away entirely.
After a moment, he concluded that no, it probably wouldn't have. Assuming, of course, that the other guy wasn’t a complete idiot, blindly believing the words of a hurt, maybe even a little jealous ex.
Though, maybe he couldn’t really judge from his position. The position of someone who wasn’t planning on dating her, and who wasn’t interested in her in that way.
He thought for a moment about whether he should tell her about the conversation. He decided against it, not wanting to spoil or ruin the good mood of their evening. Instead, he straightened his hair and, completely unfazed by what he'd just heard, returned to the pool table where she was leaning, clearly growing impatient with his prolonged absence.
"Finally," she hissed at the sight of him. She almost shoved the cue stick into his hand, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought you were trying to escape me. The thought of another loss scared you, huh?"
He paused for a moment, staring at her face—the slightly parted lips, the warm bar light reflecting in her eyes, and the familiar, confident gleam. For a brief moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—what did she even see in that guy?
But almost immediately, he dismissed it, considering it none of his business, and took the cue stick from her, ready to start the next game.
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tobesolnelyx · 13 days ago
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Okay sooo I’m obsessed with your yj fratboy stuff and i just gotta ask if you could maybe write fratboy lottie, maybe saw someone flirting with reader realizing she’s down bad and takes reader on this ridiculous over the top date to ask them to be her gf? Don’t mind if it ends with smut or stays all fluff just like need simp fratboy Lottie 🤲🏼
(also hope your day is the best sending you a forehead kiss and the best vibes in the world)
a/n ahh thank you anon <3
Neither you or Lottie could quite name what was going on between you two. The only thing Lottie was sure of was that she didn’t want to see you with anyone else, and that she really cared about you. Cared enough to go in for all those romantic gestures, dates, texting non-stop. Even calling you love, baby, or God knows what else.
She even held off on taking things to bed, choosing instead to leave space for soft kisses, hand-holding, and her palm resting on your waist every time the two of you were going out together.
The closest label would probably be… a relationship. A relationship that just needed to be made official.
Lottie didn’t feel obligated to ask you to be her girlfriend but when the days kept passing and you didn’t ask either, she realized something was holding you back… or maybe you were waiting for her. Maybe, from your side, everything already felt clear, and all you were looking for was confirmation. That yes, she felt the same. And yes, she definitely wanted to be with you.
Lottie wasn’t great at all this stuff, but she understood that she had to show you, somehow, that she truly wanted this, that she was interested in something more than just fleeting sex or a months-long fling with a nasty breakup at the end.
The truth was, Lottie was searching for some sense of peace in her life, and you were the one person around whom she finally managed to relax. With you she could stop pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
So, Lottie knew she needed to ask if you'd be her girlfriend.
And the feeling only intensified because of him.
The one person who rubbed Lottie the wrong way like a pebble in a shoe.
She was picking you up from class that day. Sitting in her Corvette, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and listening to whatever was playing on the radio. The day was unbearably hot, but the car’s AC was fighting bravely against the heat, making her throat dry.
Her face lit up when she finally spotted you crossing the parking lot. Sweaty and tired, your bag slung over your shoulder, but when you saw her, a smile instantly lit up your face. Lottie took off her sunglasses and leaned over to open the passenger door for you...
But he showed up.
The guy Lottie instantly hated the moment she laid eyes on his handsome, plastic-looking face. He looked like he stepped right out of a teen fashion magazine. And to her dismay, Lottie had to admit- objectively, he was attractive.
It wasn’t just that he talked to you (though that too). It was that he was real competition. He knew exactly what he was doing. He stood in front of you with perfect posture, wearing a friendly expression. He smiled, and when you stopped to chat, Lottie realized you two already knew each other.
And that boiled her blood.
She noticed everything. The way he looked at you, like he genuinely liked you. The way Lottie looked at you, too. He smiled, laughed at your little jokes, and to top it all off, his hand landed on your shoulder. Gently. Hesitating. Testing your boundaries.
Which meant Lottie couldn’t exactly jump out of the car and smash his pretty face in because that would be weird.
You hugged him goodbye, and Lottie wrinkled her nose. Her eyes stayed locked on his figure as he walked away, following him until he disappeared behind the building.
“Hey, Lot,” you said, still a little breathless as you got into the car. She barely registered it. You turned down the radio and gently moved her sunglasses aside, leaning in to kiss her cheek hello.
“Who was that?” she asked bluntly, nodding toward where the guy had just vanished. She didn’t even bother with a proper greeting.
You looked at her, surprised, your hand pulling back. Her sunglasses slid back down her nose. Her fingers clenched around the steering wheel.
“Just a guy from class. We were talking about the lecture,” you shrugged. To you, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like you had any feelings for him, not with Lottie in your life. Lottie, to who you’d stayed loyal no matter what.
But Lottie didn’t look the least bit convinced. Still, she eventually shrugged and turned her gaze away. The tension didn’t leave her shoulders. You didn’t get a hello kiss in return.
You frowned. But Lottie, visibly displeased, simply turned the key in the ignition and started to back out of the parking space.
You were just about to ask if she was okay, but then her hand landed on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. Her fingers spread across your skin.
“I’m fine,” she finally said, not looking at you.
So your hand wandered into her hair, softly scratching her scalp. She mumbled something incoherent in response, but Lottie knew that now she had to try harder.
Because nothing was okay.
Whoever that too-handsome guy was, suddenly appearing in your space, he irritated her endlessly. Whether it was in the cafeteria, lurking somewhere in the hallway, or offering to drive you home, which was unbelievably annoying. Because that was strictly her role. Hers and her disgustingly expensive cars.
The guy was a problem. And he acted like he had no idea that you were already flirting with her. God, you were practically dating.
Maybe you didn’t notice. Maybe you did but didn’t take it seriously, but you always treated him kindly. Warmly. Lottie was almost convinced that he took it as subtle flirting.
When she saw you, one sweltering evening, give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, it felt like someone had hit her. From that moment, she made it her mission to officially make you her girlfriend. Just so no one would have a single doubt about who you belonged to.
Lottie borrowed her dad’s fucking yacht.
She took you to the dock, presenting a yacht the size of a boat, gleaming in the sun so much it looked cleaner than the crystal-clear water beneath it. It was huge, opulence upon opulence, and you didn’t want to know how much money was floating on the water right now.
Lottie looked like an excited five-year-old who had just gotten a toy car. She stood there in linen shorts and a shirt. Sunglasses perched on her nose, already leading you aboard, grinning proudly.
"Don’t worry, we’ll be back tomorrow evening at the same time," she chattered, pulling you onto the deck. "Everything’s planned, we even have staff. I’ll take care of everything..." she said, wrapping her arm around you.
You knew her too well, and that self-satisfied smile told you everything. Lottie was planning something you had no clue about.
She gave you a full tour of the yacht, and you decided it was definitely too big for just two people, and if it weren’t for the staff, you’d probably feel completely... out of place. The question of how Lottie managed to get the whole damn yacht just to take you on a date crossed your mind, but you decided to stay silent. She looked way too happy to bring up her parents at that moment.
The weirdest thing on the whole yacht seemed to be the pool. Because, seriously, who the hell needs a pool on something that already floats?
You stopped complaining when you sailed away from the shore and Lottie jumped into it in her shorts and a sports bra that highlighted every curve.
"You coming?" she asked, submerged in water that was definitely warmer than the sea. You snorted with laughter, still trying to tan on one of the deck chairs. You didn’t say anything, and just closed your eyes again.
Until. Until you felt wet arms wrapping around your body and lifting you up.
She effortlessly threw you over her shoulder, making you squeal. She laughed throatily, so you smacked her on the back.
"Hey!" she laughed again, marching across half the deck, cheerfully drumming her fingers against the back of your thighs.
"Put me down," you tried to sound firm, but laughter escaped from your throat. You hit her again, and she groaned as if you’d stabbed her. Before you could swing again, she suddenly dropped you into the water without warning.
Thank God you were in the middle of nowhere, because otherwise half the dock would’ve heard you. Lottie burst out laughing just before joining you. She tried to do it with grace, with the last shreds of dignity, but you had already recovered and pulled her down.
"Asshole!" you laughed, spitting out water.
Taken by surprise, she groaned and a moment later was underwater, dramatically acting like she was on the verge of drowning, even though her height clearly wouldn’t allow that.
Eventually, you both tangled in a ridiculous mess of limbs, splashing water everywhere and shrieking like children. Lottie pinned your wrists, squeezing you tightly, making you laugh even louder. Her warm, wet chest pressed against your back.
"I win," she said, panting into your ear. Water dripped from both of you, your bikini clung to your skin, and your chest heaved as you tried to stifle your laughter. Your lungs already ached from it all.
"Uh huh, sure..." you began, trying to slip from her grip, but she only tightened her hold, making it impossible. You were about to start wrestling again when she fired it like a cannon, making your heart almost stop.
"I want you to be my girlfriend," it wasn’t even a question. She just told you, panting into your ear, her hands gripping you like she was trying to hold on forever and wouldn’t let you say no. "I really want that." And when you still stood there stunned, saying nothing, she added, much softer. Almost pleading. "Please."
Lottie took your silence as a yes when you turned around, threw yourself at her, and crushed your lips to hers, barely breathing between the kisses.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 year ago
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Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook One Shot
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Summary: You've been Jungkook's best friend for literal decades but what happens when it turns out he wants to be more than just friends... Pariring: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count: 13.4k (Daym 😂) Warnings: Explicit language and sexual content yup that's it haha a/n: I got way too carried away with this but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. Let me know what you guys think! Also barely edited but that's pretty much the usual here lol Requested by an anon 💜
"Alright ladies that's a wrap!" the lead choreographer calls out. "Thank you all so much for your hard work these past few weeks. I know this is going to be a comeback that'll go down in history!" he continues and we give ourselves a round of applause before I head over and get my dance bag and get ready to go.
"Someone's eager to get out of here" my best friend/roommate Nari teases. "I already told you I'm headed home for the weekend" I say, sitting down and changing my dance shoes into my sneakers. "Oh right, you should go see your in laws too" she teases, bumping her shoulder against mine while she does the same.
"Hey not so loud! Not everyone knows that Jungkook and I are close like that and I'd like to keep it that way. Plus we're just friends alright" I scold, looking around to see if anyone had caught wind of what she'd said. "I never said anything about Jungkook, you did" she says leaving me biting my tongue and realizing that I risked outing myself all on my own.
"I hate you" I huff and stand up to go but she grabs onto my pant leg to stop me. "No you don't" she laughs. "Be sure to bring back some of your mom's cooking" she reminds me leaving me rolling my eyes at her. "Yeah yeah I know, I'll see you later alright" I say, grabbing my bag and putting the strap around my shoulder while she waves goodbye and starts talking to some of the other dancers.
~~~~~
Walking down the hall I happen to run into Jungkook and Taehyung walking down the hall and I bow politely at both of them and they do so as well before passing each other by. "Check your phone" Jungkook whispers and I nod my head, not turning around in an effort to not cause suspicions.
"Wait is that her?" I hear Taehyung say as they walk away and all I hear moments later is Taehyung crying out in pain when I walk through the elevator doors. Turning back around, now facing them again Jungkook gives me a nervous smile and I laugh in return before leaning over towards the key panel and pressing G for garage.
Stepping out of the elevator and walking up to my car I get an all too familiar chime on my phone signaling a new message and smile once I unlock my phone.
'Working hard today? ' Jungkook sends.
'Don't I always work hard? ' I reply, putting on my seatbelt and starting up the car, making my way to the exit, my drive only being about ten minutes away to my apartment.
'Yeah your cheeks just looked extra flushed and your hair was a mess.'  he teases, making me open my mirror on the sun visor, checking my hair at the red light, seeing nothing a miss with my hair but taking note of those flushed cheeks he mentioned.
'Whatever Jeon. After having seen you walking around with Taehyung definitely brought you down a few points. That man is gorgeous!'  I throw back, knowinghow pouty he gets when I compliment his members. Or anyone else for that matter.
'Hey leave him out of this! I thought I looked pretty handsome today though...guess my efforts were in vein'  he send and I can just imagine the facial expression he's making.
'You did look handsome Jeon but stop fishing for compliments, it doesn't suit you'  I send back, complimenting him while also reprimanding him, a skill I've used time and time again when it comes to him.
Minutes later I pull into my parking spot at the apartments, quickly running upstairs to take a shower and get ready to head out, all the while Jungkook and I have been exchanging messages back and forth, well apart from me being in the shower of course.
As I put the finishing touches on my makeup and check out my outfit one last time I see an incoming FaceTime call from none other than the man himself.
"Hey!" I say, propping the phone up and walking around my room to gather up any last minute things.
"Hey! You look nice, well compared to earlier today" he says, his nose scrunching up, amused by his own words leaving me scoffing at him. "Where are you headed?" he ask seeing as I won't dignify his earlier words with a response.
"I'm about to head out to Busan to see my parents. I haven't been there for a while and my mom has been begging me to come visit for a while now. You know she's still mad at you for stealing me away from them on my birthday right?" I laugh, remembering the look on my mom's face as he was tugging me out the door.
"Yeah but we had fun right? Remind me to apologize next time I see her" he says, rubbing the back of his neck and I laugh at the bashful mannerism.
We continue on our conversation for a while and only when I hear another voice coming in on Jungkook's side do I remember that I've gotta get going.
"Hey! Why are you hiding in here? Our break was over ages ago and we need you to come record some more backing vocals" the voice I can now identify as Jimin scolds getting clearer as he no doubt comes closer.
"I'll be out there in a minute just lemme finish up this call" he says and tries to angle the phone away from Jimin to hide who he's talking to.
"Who's that?" he asks and I can see a slight flush of color bloom on Jungkook's cheeks leaving Jimin laughing when he realizes who it is. "Hi y/n!" he calls out and I laugh after seeing Jungkook roll his eyes at him.
Jimin and I met a while ago when he found out Jungkook was going to Busan and wanted to tag along, not having realized that I was doing the same thing.
"Hi Jimin!" I say happily and Jungkook sends me a quick glare through the phone. "Let's all go out soon! It feels like we haven't seen each other in ages!" he calls out and at that Jungkook starts to shoo him out.
"Alright hyung give me two minutes and I'll be right out" he says, giving him a look telling him to get out or suffer the consequences.
"Bye y/n!" he giggles and I return it saying a quick goodbye and acknowledging his invitation as well. "Bye Jimin! Time and place and I'll be there!" I finish off and he says goodbye one last time before I hear what I can assume is a door closing behind him.
"I should probably get going" I say, picking my up bag and grabbing the phone as well, glancing around one last time before putting my shoes on and walking out to the car. "Are you driving?" he questions and I confirm it as I unlock the doors and get inside, setting my phone in the dashboard mount.
"Drive safe alright! I heard it might get a little stormy out there so be careful" he warns and I nod my head while putting my seatbelt on, smiling at his slightly worried expression. "And how might you know that already?" I tease, surprised at how he could've checked since this is the first time we've spoken about this trip.
"My mom called me to complain about the weather the other day" he groans, rubbing his temple almost as if he was having flashbacks of what looks to have been a not so pleasant conversation.
"Maybe I should stop by? It's been a while since I've seen them" I suggest, remembering how Nari teased me about it earlier. "Sure! I'll let her know that you'll be there for a few days" he says and I nod while turning on the car and pulling out onto the road.
"You should probably get going too though right?" I question, laughing at the fact that he looks as though he's making himself more comfortable on the couch he's sitting on instead of making moves to head out. "Nah I should be good for another ten, they've probably moved onto the next member by now" he yawns and I laugh at his carefree nature.
"Don't you guys have a comeback coming up?" I question, trying to remind him of the responsibility he has to his team. "It's just a single so ten more minutes won't hurt" he winks making me clear my throat and focus more on the road.
We continue our conversation for that ten minutes he was sure he would be afforded before the next member comes in and scolds him, this time being Taehyung. "Who are you talking to?" is all he says before Jungkook says a quick goodbye and hangs up the call. "That man really wants to keep me away from Taehyung" I say out loud, shaking my head at his panicked expression.
Although Jungkook and I work in the same industry he still likes to hide our friendship from the rest of the company and the public in general. He's an idol and I know he wants to protect me but it's still makes me a little sad that I'm not able to meet the rest of his members, or at least not officially.
I've seen them all in passing throughout the building as I'm hired to be a backup dancer in most comebacks but I have yet to be included in one for BTS. I know it's probably for that same reason of him wanting to keep me safe but I wish he wouldn't. 
I want the both of us to work freely and when possible to work together but I'll respect his wishes no matter what. At the end of the day he's the one that'll pay the price if rumors about us were to spread.
He's my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to him so if having our friendship be a secret is the way to protect him then I'll do everything I can to make sure it stays that way.
~~~~~~
As I pull up to my parent's house I see my mom eagerly waiting for me with the front door open and waving for me to come inside.
"Hurry up it's freezing out there, you'll catch a cold from that rain" she call out when I open my car door. "Nice to see you too mom" I chuckle and once I get inside she's already helping me get my rain jacket off. "Let's get out out of these wet clothes right away, I don't want you to spend what little time you have here coughing up a storm" she nags.
Always the charmer that one.
I know she means well but I just wish she would stop worrying so much. I'm a grown woman I can take care of myself. Before I'm even able to say hello to my father she's already rushing me to go into my room and get changed. "Hurry up and get dressed! Dinner's gonna be ready soon" she says while turning around and heading back into the kitchen to finish everything up.
Walking into my childhood bedroom always hits me with a wave of nostalgia especially when I see all of the pictures I have in here. Pictures as me growing up throughout the ages and noticing how Jungkook is in almost every one of them, always making me smile.
We've known each other ever since he moved into the neighborhood. We were about five years old back then and here we are, twenty five years old and our friendship is stronger than ever. 
We met one day on the playground at recess when he was drawing pictures with the sidewalk chalk and I had been playing hopscotch with some of the girls in my class not too far away.
I walked up to him because I noticed he had been all by himself and I wanted to see if he wanted to play with us. He said no because he wanted to keep drawing and so I sat and watched him for a while until I asked him about what he was drawing and from that moment on we became best friends.
We would take the bus home together and take turns going to each other's houses after school and it felt as though my day never felt fully complete if I didn't see him at least once.
We were about eleven years old when he told me he wanted to be a singer and from that day I was his number one fan. Always encouraging him to sign up for talent shows at school and listening to him sing when he wanted to show me a new song he learned and that's also when I started to find my love for dance.
I couldn't really sing, well I could never sing as well as he could so I decided to start dancing. He would sing and I would come up with random routines and it would go round and round like that.
I did it mostly to make him laugh but soon he wanted to join in with me and so we became a duo. We didn't perform for anyone other than our parents when they begged us to so it was almost as if it was our little secret. Just something for the two of us.
When he heard about the show Superstar K having auditions I was the first one to tell him he should try out. He wanted us to audition together but I reminded him that he was the one who could sing. He wanted me to learn but I told him this was his moment and he needed to do it on his own.
I knew from a young age that he was going to be something special and I wasn't going to get in the way of that.
I went with him to the audition and he did amazing but he didn't make it. He didn't have the confidence in himself but I knew that if he just tried his hardest that even if he didn't make it into the show it would still put eyes on him.
When he finished his audition I saw the amount of people coming to give him offers. Seven companies wanted him to audition and I couldn't have been prouder of him!
"How do I even start to figure out which one to choose?" he complained as he shuffled through all the business cards he had been given. "Well take a look at the artists they have under their label, that might be a good place to start" I suggested and that night the two of us spent hours looking up and listening to track after track from all the different groups until our brains hurt.
"This is gonna take forever" he groaned, plopping down on his bed, exhausted after a full day of it and I can't deny that I was feeling the same way. "How about this" I say gathering all the cards up into a stack and fanning them out with the company names faced down so neither of us could see.
"Pick a card, any card" I joked and he chuckles before finally grabbing one and putting it to his chest, not daring to look just yet. I stand next to him and we both take a big breath in and out before he reveals it and the words of what would end up being his future stared us right in the face.
"Big Hit?" he questions having sounded out the english words clumsily, "What does that mean?" he asks, looking over at me like I have all the answers and luckily this time I did. "It means like really popular, like if a song comes out and everyone likes it and they always play it on the radio or something then it's a big hit" I explain and he watches me with those adorable doe eye taking in each and every word.
"So if I want to be a big hit then that means that starting with this label would be a good idea right?" he asks, tilting his head, awaiting my approval. "I mean you would think so right?" I respond and that was the last push he needed to go ahead and audition. 
And thanks to our little nonsensical way of going about choosing he really did become a big hit. It took some time and a lot of effort but he made it!
"Y/n! Dinner!" my mother yells, breaking me out of my walk down memory lane. "I'll be out in a sec!" I yell back and pull off my damp shirt and replace it with a hoodie, which ironically ends up being one that Jungkook let me "borrow" even though he knew he was never gonna get it back.
"Come on y/n it's getting cold" she yells again and I have to shake my head, trying to physically will myself to stop thinking about him now but it's hard not to. Everything about this house reminds me of him, and I like it that way.
~~~~
After dinner and being bombarded with question after question about my life and job and everything the conversation somehow circles back to Jungkook. "How's he doing? He's become such a handsome young man hasn't he?" she says, elbowing my father who gives a slight grunt of approval having been focused on the tv watching some sort of sports game.
"He's alright. I saw him at work when I was leaving and then we talked on the phone a bit while I was packing up to come here" I say and her eyes light up at that fact. "Sounds like you two are still close huh?" she says in a knowing way which makes me groan. "Come on mom you know it's not like that. Jungkook is my friend" I say, taking a drink of water.
"Yeah but friends can become...friendlier" she teases making me choke on my water. "You okay sweetie?" my dad asks, now having turn his attention back to me during the commercial break. "Yeah mom is just teasing me about Jungkook again" I say, taking the napkin he's offered me.
"Well he is a fine young man y/n. Are you guys still close?" he asks and I face palm, both of them being a carbon copy of the other when it comes to him. "Yes dad we're still best friends. Are we done here? I would prefer to keep the interrogation to a minimum while I'm here" I say pushing my chair out and starting to clear the dishes away.
"Oh you know we're just joking. It's nice to see that you're still friends though, regardless of anything else" my mom says while bumping my shoulder just like Nari had. "Me too" I mumble and think about all the memories we've made together since I moved to Seoul.
With all that distance between us while I was living in Busan and even with him being caught up in the whirlwind that is the music industry we never lost touch.
There were times where his responses would be a bit sporadic but it would always be around comeback time when that would happen or sometimes at odd hours while he was on tour but we never went more than a few days without exchanging at least a message or two.
He made that promise to me the day he went to Seoul.
He promised me we would never lose touch and that we would always be there for each other and to this day we've never faltered. I know he's someone I can count on and he sure as hell can count on me too. It's us against the world. It always has been and it always will be.
~~~~
Finishing up the night spending some quality time with my parents was just what I needed. Even with all the prodding and teasing and interrogations it was still something that healed a part of me that I tended to overlook.
I've felt homesick since I left to Seoul and coming back here just makes it even more apparent so that's what keeps me away. I try to convince myself that the longer I stay away from home the better I'll start to feel but that never works. The only thing that does the trick is when I spend time with him.
Jungkook has become my little home away from home and whenever I'm with him that melancholy feeling tends to fade away and I can never thank him enough. I've never told him that but I hope that in some way I could be that for him too.
~~~~
When I wake up in the morning I text Jungkook and ask him if his mom said it would be alright for me to come over and he surprisingly answers right away.
'Yeah she said she'd love to have you and said that sometime this evening would work well'  He relays so I make a mental note of it and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with my parents before I head out to the Jeon's.
"Tell them we say hello and don't forget to give her the tea that I gave you, and try not to stay out too late, there's a storm coming in and you don't wanna get caught out in it" she calls out to me while I walk to my car. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home" I say and give her one last wave before getting in the car and taking off.
When I reach their house I'm surprised to see a big black van outside the house but nonetheless walk up to the door anyways and ring the doorbell.
"You're here!" I'm met with a comfy looking Jungkook in a matching grey sweatsuit with a smile painted on his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask, giving him a huge hug right away. It feels like it's been ages since I've actually been able to be this close to him. 
"When I heard you were coming home this weekend I realized that I should come too since I had the whole weekend off" he says, swaying as he hugs me and props his head on top of mine.
"You could've told me! I wouldn't have minded waiting to come up today" I say and he shakes his head chuckling at the suggestion. "And risk making your mom mad at me again? No thanks. Plus it wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you" he says and I lean back to look up at him.
"You know I hate surprises" I say, furrowing my brow and he pokes me in the forehead to make me stop. "Your adorable reaction says otherwise" he teases and at that his mother walks towards us. "Jungkook I told you to let her in, not make her stand in the entryway. Y/n it's so good to see you" she says giving me a big hug and dragging me further into the house.
"Would you like any coffee or tea? It's freezing out there" she says, wrapping her cardigan around herself in an effort to keep out the cold. "Tea would be great, which reminds me my mother told me to bring this to you" I say, handing her the jar of honey yuzu tea.
"Oh we had talked about this the other day! Thank you so much, why don't you go ahead and join the others and I'll bring it out to you in a minute" she says and scurries off to the kitchen. 
"Others?" I ask, turning to face Jungkook who had been trailing behind us. "You'll see" he says with a devious smile and leads me towards the growing noises of a conversation being had in the other room.
"Aye what took you so long?" Jimin says, standing up and giving me a huge hug making Jungkook have to step to the side to avoid being knocked over. "I didn't know that you guys were gonna be here otherwise I would've come sooner" I laugh and Jungkook taps Jimin twice on the shoulder as a clear sign for him to let go.
"Try not to smother her, she wasn't expecting to see any of us" he says making Jimin pull away and give him a wary look that I can't really read but I go on to look around the rest of the room and am met with six more pairs of eyes.
"Oh, um hello" I say as I look around the room and see the rest of the members seated around the room who had been visiting with Mr. Jeon.
"It's been a while hasn't it?" Mr. Jeon says warmly and gives me a gentle embrace. "It has. I'm sorry, I don't come home often and when I do my mom holds me hostage" I admit and him as well as all the guys watching us laugh making me recoil a bit from the unexpected attention and end up bumping into Jungkook's chest.
"Well I'll let you young people have your fun" he says and places a hand on Jungkook's shoulder before making his way into the kitchen to be with his wife.
"You alright?" Jungkook asks and I look up at him and nod, my breathing having gone shallow from our close proximity with my back still against his chest along the 6 person audience we now have. "Just take a deep breath. They'll love you I promise" he whispers and he guides me in the rest of the way and begins introducing me.
"Guys this is y/n, y/n these are my members" he says and is quickly cut off with an arm being thrown around his neck. "Aye! Aren't we more than just your members? I thought I raised you better than that" Jin says while ruffling Jungkook's already fluffy hair.
"Alright, alright get off me" Jungkook groans as he shoves Jin off playfully. "Y/n these are my hyungs" he corrects and at that theres a collective nod amongst the rest. "You already know all of their names so yeah" Jungkook says, scratching the back of his neck and I smile as I see the tips of his ears are getting a bit red.
"Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung I'm one of the backup dancers that HYBE employs every once in a while so I'm pretty familiar with you all or at least I know a lot about you I mean I-" "It's very nice to meet you y/n" Namjoon says, cutting off my nervous rambling right from the start.
"You guys too! Jungkook talks about you all so much that I almost feel like I know you already" I say and they all smile at that. "We feel the same way, Jungkook never shuts up about you" Taehyung says and I can feel Jungkook stiffen behind me and I smile, happy but somehow nervous having learned that information.
"Hyung, a word?" Jungkook says, singling out the one that's closest in age to him and I can see Taehyung's whole body droop before he gets up, realizing the kind of scolding he's bound to get.
Once they leave I'm left with the other five but luckily Jimin is still here so I'm not totally alone. "So y/n Jungkook tells us you've been friends since you were kids right?" Jin asks, starting the conversation off smoothly so as to not put too much pressure on me.
"Yeah! We met when we were about five years old. It really feels like I've know him my whole life" I say, smiling shyly and Jimin takes the initiative of leading me over to sit on one of the arm chairs. "Twenty years is definitely a long time. It's crazy how you guys have been able to stay friends that long with him being an idol and all that" Hoseok says, elbows rested on his knees almost fascinated at the thought.
"Well he made a promise to me before he went to Seoul and promises are very important to us" I say and they all nod, having experienced the same with him since they had known each other for ages already as well. "So you guys are best friends right?" Namjoon asks, leaning forward as well, as if he's working his way up to asking another question.
"I mean yeah, it's kind of embarrassing but besides him and my roommate I don't really have any other friends. Well I mean I have the dancers I work with but they're more colleagues than anything" I relay and they give me a sad smile.
"Yeah that seems to be the case when you work in this industry but hey any friend of Jungkook is a friend of ours as well so you just gained six more friends to add to the list!" Hoseok chimes in.
"Thank you guys that really means a lot to me. I've just been so career minded that I haven't really taken time to make new friends" I say and I'm met with a strong hand on my shoulder making me look up and see a smiling Jungkook looking down at me. "Luckily I'm here though right?" he asks almost as if my words had made him a little insecure.
"Of course! You'll always be my best friend. Nothing and no one will ever change that" I say, placing my hand on top of his and giving it a firm squeeze.
Something Jungkook always seems to need is reassurance about us and that we'll always be together. It might just be because I'm sure he's gained and lost a lot of friends having worked in this industry and seen people's true colors as they started to grow in popularity. 
It's probably hard for him to know who he can and cannot really trust outside of his members.
"Hey what's with that look Jungkook come on sit down there's no need to be so serious" Namjoon says and Hoseok joins in making Jungkook feel a bit more at ease. "Can we sit together?" Jungkook whispers and I nod before getting up and he sits down where I had just been and pulls me down onto his lap.
This isn't an unusual thing between us but from the looks of the six pairs of eyes staring back at us you would think we had done something scandalous.
"Is everything alright guys?" I ask, watching as they collectively start looking back and forth between us before Yoongi chimes in. "Calm down guys they said they're just friends" he says and so eventually the weirdness that had settled in goes away and we continue on throughout the night laughing and talking into the wee hours in the morning.
~~~~
"Is it really already two?" Jimin says and at that I jump. "Wait are you serious? My mom is probably freaking out thinking I got caught out in the storm. I need to get going" I say trying to stand up but I'm stopped with a strong arm around my waist, keeping me in place.
"You mom called my mom a couple of hours ago to make sure you were okay and she told her that you would probably just be staying over tonight because of the storm" he whispers and I shudder at the thought.
Jungkook and I haven't spent the night together since he left for Seoul so the thought of doing it now when I'm sitting on his lap and with his hand dangerously close to crawling under my shirt has me feeling breathless. "Oh okay, but where am I gonna sleep?" I ask and he smiles at that.
"You'll sleep with me in my room, you know, for old times sake" he offers with a shy smile and I nod, nervous but not nervous enough to turn him down. It's Jungkook after all. We're best friends right? Just friends...
~~~~~
"Goodnight guys!" I say after the eight of us have talked for another hour or so, Jungkook following close behind as we make our way upstairs. "Text me if you guys need anything but try not to need me" Jungkook says and I see all of the guys give him a knowing smile besides Jin who has been scandalized by the thought of anything happening but it wasn't something that I had caught onto just yet.
"Behave" is all he says and Jungkook rolls his eyes at him before he rushes me upstairs with Jin scolding him all the way but he's quickly silenced by Yoongi, reminding him that Jungkook's parents are asleep.
"They seem really nice" I say once we've gotten into Jungkook's room. "Yeah they're alright" he says, walking over to his closet and throwing me a tee shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing the same for himself.
"I'm gonna go use the bathroom unless you want to first?" he asks and I shake my head allowing him to do as he says with him closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in his childhood bedroom just like I had been in mine.
It's been ages since I've been in here, let alone slept in here and I feel as though everything has almost been frozen in time. His mirroring mine with all the pictures his mom and dad had taken of us over the years and even a few of his old drawings he had pinned up on the wall.
I start to get undressed and put on the sweats first and when I'm slipping his shirt over my head his door opens and quickly put it on the rest of the way and hear him start apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I forgot to knock" he says quickly and when I turn around he has both of his hands over his eyes.
"It's alright no big deal" I laugh and he shift from one foot to the other nervously. "Can I open my eyes now?" he asks and I laugh at his almost innocent nature. "Yes you can open your eyes" I say and pinch his side making him flinch. "Hey!" he says and I shush him immediately reminding him of all the sleeping people on the level bellow us.
"No one can hear us from up here you know that" he laughs, reminding me that his parents bedroom as well as everyone else is downstair on the opposite side of the house. The only things upstairs being his older brother's old room and his father's office.
"We should still be quiet" I scold playfully and he takes that as a challenge. "Oh yeah?" he says taking a step towards me and making me take a step back. "Yeah" I say, less confident in my wording than before leaving him lunging at me and tickling me mercilessly to the point where I can't even breathe anymore.
"J-jungkook stop!" I say between painful laugher and he only stops when I start hitting him. "Okay okay. Truce?" he asks, pulling back and holding out his hand to shake. "Truce" I echo, shaking his hand to seal the deal.
We stand there for a second with our hands still connected and swaying them back and forth, neither of us really knowing where to go from here. "We should probably get some sleep" I offer and he nods his head and leads me over to his bed letting me climb in first and him following soon after since his bed and placed against the wall.
"You need anything else? Another pillow? Maybe another blanket?" he asks after we've both settled in. "With the human heater you are? No I'll be fine" I say and he pushes my shoulder a bit me having faced away from him.
I turn around and realize that that might've been my first mistake of many to come.
"Tell me about the comeback you're working on. Have they been nice to you?" he asks, laying on his side facing me, suddenly becoming a bit serious. "Oh, um yeah everyone is really nice and the boys although energetic and goofy have been very professional about it all" I say in reference to the Enhypen comeback I'm working on.
"What's the name of their title track again?" he asks, settling in a bit and moving just a little bit closer, hardly noticeable unless you were fixated on it like I am right now. "Bite Me. You know because their whole back story for the group is Vampires" I say, laughing it off since it could be interpreted in many different ways.
He hums in acknowledgement lost in thought as he glances down at my lips for a second that I nervously bite in response. "It's a partnered dance right? I've heard about it in passing" he asks and I nod my head, "Who are you paired up with?" he asks, tonging his cheek at the thought of it.
"Sunghoon. He's been very quiet and very respectful. If anything I wish he would talk to me a little bit more so we could feel a bit more comfortable with each other but I'm sure we'll get there" I laugh, remembering how he barely spoke to me when we initially got paired up.
"Does he call you Noona?" he asks and I swallow at the thought of him being jealous because if there's one thing I know about Jungkook is that he get's extremely jealous.
"Um, yeah, they all do. You know I don't like keeping that overly formal relationship with anyone so it's been helpful breaking down those walls and a way of treating them as regular guys instead of idols. I think they get enough treatment like that you know?" I ask and he hums in response, not having much more to ask for a few beats.
"How close do you guys get? Like does he put his hands on you?" he asks, clenching his jaw a bit and that's a dead ringer for his jealously growing. "Jungkook this is a part of my job. He doesn't do more than he's supposed to and same with me" I say and I can see how his mood starts to change a bit.
"Hey, what's got you all upset about this?" I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I know better and it's best to just confront these things head on. "I just don't like the thought of other guys touching you. I know, I know it's stupid and it shouldn't upset me but it does" he says, flopping down on his back and throwing his arm over his face.
I sit up and turn towards him, pulling his arm off and making him look at me. "Why does it bother you?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why something like this would make him upset.
"Do I really need to spell it out to you?" he says furrowing his brow as if I've done something wrong. "Well obviously you do because I don't understand why you would care about thi-" I start but he cuts me off by pulling my arm and making me fall onto his chest.
"Jungkook I-" "No, don't say anything. Push me away if you don't want this but please don't overthink it" he says, flicking his eyes between my eyes and lips, looking more vulnerable than he ever has.
I hold my breath, taking in what is happening between us and there's nothing inside of me that doesn't want this and he knows that.
We stay there for another second or two until he puts his hand on my neck keeping me in place. "Last chance" he whispers, his breath fanning against my lips and before I can even second guess myself I'm pressing my lips against his.
He keeps one hand on my neck and the other one has found it's way to my hip, trailing up and down my side and eventually grabbing onto my thigh to guide me to straddle him, making the kiss more intense and full of longing.
"We shouldn't be doing this" I say when I break the kiss for a second but he pulls me back in kissing me again in protest. "Shut up" he whispers as a way to remind me to not overthink it.
I run one of my hands through his hair and grip onto the strands wanting to keep him here and never let him go and that sparks a new intensity to the kiss him now flipping us over so I'm now on my back.
I giggle against his lips and he smiles against mine kissing me more and more into a daze, drunk on his lips and the way he's touching me.
His hands become a bit more bold as one stays on my jaw while the other trails up my shirt, keeping a strong hand against my hip squeezing it as a way to tell me he wants more, wants everything I'll give him.
He switched from keeping his hips hovering above me to pressing against mine, chancing a soft grind against them making me whine at the contact making him do it again earning more soft sounds from me.
Soon he grinding into me, his hard on having been brushing against my clit, the friction driving me mad making me breathe out his name when his lips start to trail down my jaw and along my neck, kissing and sucking and biting his way down while his hips never falter.
"Tell me to stop" he says, pulling away and looking down on me, making me furrow my brows in confusion. "Tell me to stop and I will but if I keep going I don't think I'll be able to stop" he says, his lips wet and swollen, his hair a mess and I would be out of my mind if I pushed him away now.
"Don't stop" I say, placing my hand on his neck and guiding him back down to my lips, needing him like I need air and he growls against my lips, his excitement growing ask he slips his hands further up my shirt, now resting on my ribs, so close yet so far from touching me where I want him to.
I whine and he chuckles against my lips before asking me if he can take my shirt off which I answer by sitting up and pulling it off myself leaving him to do the same. My eyes widen seeing his sculpted muscles being a lot more defined than I thought they would be and he smirks once he sees my reaction.
"Like what you see?" he asks and I hit his chest before pulling him back down. "Just shut up and kiss me" I scold and he does just that.
His hands roam the bare skin I've revealed to him and he starts to trail his lips down my neck and onto my chest where he suck marks on it until he's stopped by my bra. He bites it and tugs on a little to gauge my reaction and I arch my back as a wordless plea to take it off which he does immediately.
He curses at the sight of them before looking back up at me. "You're so pretty" he says before pressing his lips up against mine again. his hands finding their way to my breasts first, squeezing them and toying with my nipples granting him more whines when he squeezes a bit too hard.
"You're so good to me" he says trailing his lips down my chest again sucking marks into me as if he way trying to paint me as his own, leaving me with the proof of what we had done together.
When he wraps his lips around my nipple I know that I'm a goner, my whole body on fire and all my senses trained on him.
Watching as his brows furrow in concentration, hearing as he groans against them, giving both of them the same attention making me lose my mind. Still tasting him on my tongue, smelling the minty flavor as he licked it into my mouth. Feeling his hands traveling lower, toying with the drawstring I have tied tight around my waist.
He lets go of my nipple leaving it puffy wet, hardening even more from the cold air reaching it after having been left the warmth of his mouth. "Can I take them off?" he asks and I nod my head but he shakes his. "Use your words" he says, tugging on the string but not enough to untie it.
"Yes Jungkook please" I choke out, my rational brain having been lost a long time ago. "Can I take it all off?" he says toying with the waistband of my under ware as well. "Yes" I say and he smile from not having to prompt me again.
He looks at me for another second and then he busies himself with taking off the last bits of clothing that was hiding me from him.
Once he pulls it all off he curses from being met with my glistening folds and trails his hands up my thighs and looks up at me wordlessly asking for permission. "Touch me Jungkook please, do something" I groan, getting restless with the pace he's going at.
"Patience princess" he taunts and I hold my breath after hearing that pet name roll off his tongue like that. "You gonna be quiet for me?" he asks, trailing his nose against my inner thigh. "I thought you said n-no one could hear us up here" I choke out and he chuckles dryly, surprised I've still got enough of a clear mind to talk back.
"That's true but it depends on where you are in the house. In a perfect world they would all be sound asleep but if someone was to be roaming around, well let's just say it's best if you stay as quiet as you can" he says, blowing cold air onto my center leaving me flinching at the feeling.
"Me? What about y-you?" I stutter and he tilts his head at me. "We both know who the loud one is gonna be" he says now cocking a brow at me, daring me to argue otherwise which I don't leaving him turning his attention back to what he was about to do.
He looks between my folds for a second almost studying it and I groan a bit, embarrassed at the sight but he simply kisses my inner thigh in response. "Everything about you is so pretty even your pretty little pussy. Even better than I thought it would be" he says and before I'm able to react to that he's already put his mouth on me.
Tracing his tongue up and down my folds and sucking on my clit, taking his time and being gentle with me, learning what brings me the most pleasure from the sounds I'm making and the way my thighs start shaking.
"You're so perfect. So pretty and vocal for me" he growls and I moan a his words of praise. He continues his ministrations until my back is arching off the bed and I'm so close to cumming stopping only to praise me again tipping me over.
"There you go, so so good for me" he says, pumping his fingers inside me to fuck me through my high, only stopping when it gets to be too much. "You did so well. So quiet for me, making sure only I could hear you. Making all kinds of soft sounds for me" he praises before kissing me, making me taste myself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth and never wanting to come back to reality.
"You think you can give me another one?" he asks, squeezing my hip and dragging his eyes down my body again. "Yeah" I whisper, watching as his hunger grows. "You gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy? Been dying to for so long" he says making my eyes widen, realizing that what I heard before wasn't something I made up.
"You've been what?" I ask, getting breathless at the thought of him wanting me like this. "Haven't you figured it out yet? It's been so hard for me to stay away from you. I just didn't realize I had been doing that good of a job" he says and I get even more confused.
"Jungkook what are you trying to say?" I ask, wanting to get a straight answer out of him. "You're really gonna make me say it...Alright" he mutters to himself and I can see how embarrassed he's gotten all of a sudden.
"I know this has kind of been done backwards but I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I know love is a strong word and I know now isn't the best time to say something like this but I-" he rambles but I pull him down into a kiss that shows him that I've felt the same way. I've just been too scared to admit it.
"Just fuck me and we'll talk about this later" I say against his lips, breathless from how long that kiss had gone on. "Someone's eager" he teases and I glare at him telling him to get on with it or stop. "Okay okay" he laughs and strips down and lays between my legs.
My eyes widen at the sheer size of him, he's not too big but definitely bigger than I would've thought based on how tight his jeans have been throughout the years. "It's okay I'll make sure it won't hurt" he says nudging his nose against mine.
"Do you trust me?" he asks and I answer 'yes' without any hesitation. "Tap me twice if it gets to be too much" he says and I nod before he's planting his lips against mine while he rubs the tip up and down my folds making me mewl and pull him closer.
He pushes the tip in and it's already got me close to cumming. After everything that's happened today I never thought we would've ended up here. He presses in further and I let out a high pitched whimper and he stops, breaking the kiss.
"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down on me, mesmerized by the sight of my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils with the fucked out expression I'm already giving him. "Yes keep going" I pant out and pull him back down into a kiss, trying to muffle my gasps and moans against his lips.
Once he's bottomed out he stops, enjoying to warmth of my walls and grunting when he feels how hard I'm clenching around him. "Fuck, are you alright?" he asks, turning his full attention to me, pushing away his urges and making sure that I'm feeling good too.
"So big, I'm sorry just gimme a sec" I pant and he chuckles, placing a soft pecks on my lips. "We'll take it slow" he says and after a couple more seconds I tell him to move. He slowly pulls out of me the slightest bit and pushes back in, inching further and further out making his thrusts go deeper every time.
"Fuck you're so tight" he grunts, biting my shoulder as a way to drown out some of his sounds of pleasure. He's finally able to pull almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in and he looks down at where we're connected and curses under his breath before he thrusts back inside of me, bottoming out and knocking the air out of my lungs.
He settles into a faster pace than before, growling in my ear how good I'm making him feel. "Fuck I've been dying to do this for so long. You drive me fucking insane, making me feel so fucking good. You're so perfect for me" he says, praising me and driving me utterly speechless, not being able to think straight and the only word that falls from my lips over and over are his name muttered amongst other incoherent noises that only encourage him to keep going.
My walls flutter around him and start getting tighter, a clear sign to him that I'm close and he coaches me through it. "I know, I know" he mutters, his forehead resting up against mine as our breath intermingles, getting closer and closer to that high.
"I can't I can't" I cry out, squeezing around him and making him curse, a few tears streaming down my face "It's okay, you can cum" he says and at that I tip over the edge losing myself and forgetting to be quiet, making him throw a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.
"S-so close princess" he stutters out and I nod, letting him fuck me through my high and he's cumming soon after, smashing his lips on mine, not trusting himself to muffle his own cries.
He continues doing shallow thrusts into me until he's spent, both of us panting and overstimulated and he pulls out of me making both of us hiss at the feeling before he plops down on his back beside me.
We lay there for a second, catching our breaths and when I glance over at him I realize that he's already been looking at me and without saying a word we both bust out laughing.
"Did that really just happen?" I question, flipping over on my side to face him. "Yeah, um I guess it did" he chuckles nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "What's wrong?" I ask, scared that he might've regretted it. "No nothing's wrong! You're perfect, this was perfect I just feel bad about doing this all wrong" he says, overthinking things just like he told me not to.
"Hey, this is us we're talking about. Nothing ever ends up going the way it's supposed to. I don't regret doing it this way. Do you?" I ask, hoping his answer will be no. "I don't regret it I just wish I could've confessed to you properly. You know, asking you out on a date and all of that stuff" he says, more shy than anything.
"Jungkook we've known each other for twenty years. I think we're past doing things properly. Plus for what it's worth" I pause and whisper in his ear, "I'm in love with you too" I say and the next second I'm back on my back with him on top of me again.
"You're just dying to get fucked again aren't you?" he growls, against my lips making me laugh at his change in demeanor. One second he's a shy insecure Koo and the next he's Jeon Jungkook ready to fuck my brains out. I wouldn't want it any other way though.
"Maybe" I tease and and he trails a hand up and down my inner thigh. "What do you mean maybe? Hmm?" he says trailing kisses down my neck this time leaving big smooches making so much noise with each kiss leaving me writhing around, laughing and trying to push him off from how ticklish it is.
After we've both calmed down he gazes down at me, taking in all my features before gliding his eye down my torso to where we're pressed against each other.
"You ready?" he asks, trailing his finger up and down my slit making me shiver at the process. "Still so wet for me" he groans, kissing me and playing with my clit making me squirm. "Please" I breathe out and he lines back up before looking up at me. I nod my head and he looks back down, pushing just the tip in and noticing how I tense up.
"Still sensitive?" he asks, running a hand up and down my side, giving me kisses trying to make me feel more comfortable. "A little. Just go slow" I say and he nods, pushing into me inch by inch taking care to read my reactions and slow down when my breathing picks up until he's bottomed out.
He kisses me on the forehead and rasps a chant of praises in my ear. "So good for me. You're doing so well. You feel so good. You were made for me" amongst other things that give me a fluttery feeling in my stomach and making me let out breathy moans in response.
"Can I move?" he asks and I take a deep breath before nodding and he takes my words from before so seriously. Rocking his hips back and forth so carefully and making my mind melt, feeling every inch and whining when he hits that spot.
"Right there?" he asks, hitting it again and he takes my gasp for breath as a response, getting high from how good I feel wrapped around him and all the reactions I couldn't hold back even if I tried. This pace feeling more intense, more intimate.
As we reach our highs, one soon after the other I find myself slowly losing consciousness and he kisses me until I fade away, loving how slow and lazy they get as the minutes pass by.
He pulls out of me once I've slowly drifted off leaving me mewling in my sleep making him lose his mind and wanting to go again but he holds himself back and chooses to laugh at how adorable he find me. Lazy and fucked out with a small pout on my lips making him somehow fall even more in love with me.
He knows I should pee but he'll let me rest for a bit, going to the bathroom to clean himself up before coming back to watch me sleep before ultimately cleaning me up, knowing that I'll hate the feeling of waking up messy more than waking up to him taking care of me.
I whine in my sleep when he dabs the warm towel around and on my center, apologizing and doing his best to hurry up but still making sure to be gentle with me. Once he's almost finished is when I finally come to and start to open my sleep ridden eyes.
"I'm sorry I had to wake you but you should really go pee before we go to bed" he says and I hum in agreement, taking a second to wake up before reaching out my hand, a nonverbal plea for him to help me up which he does so graciously.
Luckily he has an ensuite and so I don't have to worry about covering up but I still end up grabbing his shirt and slipping it on before having him help me to the bathroom, legs still feeling wobbly as a result of what he did to me.
He laughs at my efforts and decides to scoop me up instead, plopping me down on my feet and leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him to thankfully grant me some privacy, we're close but not I'll go to the bathroom in front of you close.
I sit down and take a second to clear my head, trying to process everything that just happened.
I just slept with my best friend who has been in love with me for years and I finally admitted to the both of us that I have been too and now...well now what? I take a deep breath and finish up, standing up and flushing to toilet before going to wash my hands, gasping at the sight of my mascara running down my face, it's not a lot but still.
"Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" I whine, catching him in the middle of changing the sheets. "What's the problem? You look hot" he says nonchalantly. "More like a hot mess" I groan, helping him finish up making the bed.
"The fact that I made sure you look freshly fucked is hot" he says, coming up to me and grabbing me by my hips, pulling me into him and planting a smooch on my pouty lips that I eventually relax and deepen the kiss into a slow sensual one.
"No, not again" I say breaking the kiss and stepping back. "How did you know I was gonna-" "We might not have done this before but that doesn't mean I don't know what you're up to" I say, turning away from him and going back to the bathroom, making sure to sway my hips a little bit to taunt him.
"Keep acting like that and you won't be leaving this room anytime soon" he growls as I slowly close the door leaving it open just enough for me to stick my head out. "Is that a threat?" I ask playfully, loving the reactions I'm getting out of him. "That's a promise princess" he rasps leaving me widening my eyes before closing the door quickly and quietly behind me, still close enough to hear his dry laugh in amusement.
After washing my face and using a new toothbrush I found in his drawer I climb back into bed and he pulls me into him immediately, leaning over me and placing his phone on his bedside table and notice there's somewhat of an unreadable expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" I ask, leaning back to look at him, worried that something might've happened. "Nothings wrong I just think you're gonna get mad at me if I tell you" he says, laying back down and pulling me closer, making it harder for me to look at him but I pull back again.
"Why would I get mad at you?" I ask, now even more suspicious. "A few of the guys heard us" he mumbles and I jump up almost falling out of the bed in the process. "What do you mean a few?" I ask, horrified at the thought. "All of them..." he say, wincing at the thought of my next reaction.
"All of them?!?!? Jungkook you said no one could hear us up hear!" I whisper scream, blushing at the fact that we got found out so easily. "Well everyone but Yoongi. He was the first one to knock out but I'm sure the guys will end up telling him" he relays, mumbling the last part.
"Jungkook" I scold, hitting his chest a few times. "Hey we're adults and we didn't do anything wrong. It's their fault for being perverts" he says, rolling his eyes at the thought.
"What did they hear..." I ask just above a whisper as if the walls had ears. "Nothing too crazy just the bed creaking a bit and some muffled voices" he says and at the I craw under the covers, trying my best to disappear.
"Hey what's the matter" he chuckles trying to pull the blanket off of me but I keep a strong grip on it. "Just leave me here to die" I groan and he laughs again. "Come on it's not that serious" he says, trying to pull them off, this time succeeding.
"Nothing serious? You just told me that your bandmates, that mind you I just met tonight-" "Well technically it was yesterday..." he cuts me off. "Not the point! You're telling me they not only heard us having sex but it was after the both of us swore up and down we were just friends? Jungkook I'm never gonna be able to face them" I say, grabbing a pillow and laying down on my back, burring my face in it.
"Just do it, put me out of my misery" I plead, my voice muffled while I ask him to smother me which he does so for about ten seconds before letting up after I start making noise. "You were really about to kill me weren't you?" I say, sitting back up and hitting him with the pillow before he grabs it and throws it on the other side of the bed and out of reach.
"No...but I do like the idea of breath play" he grins and I tackle him, making him fall on his back and trapping his wrists against the mattress. "This isn't funny Jeon this is serious" I scold and he laughs, enjoying how completely and utterly mortified I am.
"How did they even find out?" I groan, rubbing my temples and sitting back, still straddling his waist. "Taehyung was looking for a bathroom and woke Jimin up to help him find it and when they heard us Jimin woke Hobi up who tried to wake Yoongi up but he just groaned out a cruse leaving Hobi waking Namjoon up who hesitated, but still ended up waking Jin up" he lists off making me cringe more and more as the list goes on.
"That's it, I'm staning Seventeen. My bias is Mingyu and my bias wrecker is Hoshi. Here's my Army card and my light stick" I say, holding out two empty hands and he swats them away, refusing the offer
"Hey! Why out of the thirteen of them does my best friend need to be your bias? Am I not enough?" he pouts. "You're enough but that doesn't mean I can't pick a bias. It's not my fault all your friends are hot" as soon as the words leave my mouth he flips me on my back, glaring at me with a jealousy I've never seen from him.
"Come again?" he growls. "No that's alright, three's good enough for me" I say, teasing him and using an alternate meaning instead. "Ha Ha you're soooo funny" he says with a fake laugh, rolling his eyes at me. 
He gets off and leans up against the headboard, letting out a huge sigh and running his fingers through his hair. "Hey you know I'm just teasing you. You're the only idol, no, the only man I need in my life alright" I say, pulling his face back towards me and kissing him, soft and sweet and he tries to deepen it again but I pull away leaving him groaning at the denial yet again. 
"Nope bed" I say, tapping him twice on the chest and turning around, giving him my back. "Come on please" he whines, cuddling up close and rubbing his already semi hard against me. "I'm tired Jungkook" I say, pushing his hips off of me and he pouts burying his face into my neck. 
"Can I put it in? I won't do anything" he says against my skin, placing a couple kisses here and there leaving me hardly any sanity to say no. "You're into cock warming huh?" I chuckle and he hum in acknowledgment. 
"Come on please" he asks, rubbing it against my ass again until I finally lose the mental battle I'm having. "Fine but I wanna sleep Jeon so no funny business" I say and he quickly takes off the boxers he had thrown on and lifts up the shirt I'm wearing and eases it inside of me, nothing stopping him since I have nothing on underneath. 
I whine a bit at the stretch, this being a different angle than before and he kisses my neck to distract from the pain. Once he's settles in he takes the strong hand he had gripping my hip and slides it up my waist, grabbing one of my boobs and sigh, comfortable and ready to pass out. 
"Who said you could touch me like that too?" I ask and he shushes me and goes quiet, quickly drifting off to sleep. 'This man is unbelievable' I think to myself and try to ease my mind, breathing and trying to distract myself from the fact that I have Jungkook's dick inside of me while he's happily asleep behind me with his big tattooed hand around my breast, occasionally squeezing it in his sleep. 
After coaching myself through it and mentally blocking it all out I eventually drift off to get some well earned rest...
~~~~
"Jungkook, y/n breakfast!" is the next thing I hear, Mrs. Jeon calling us to come down and it takes everything in me to not ignore it and fall back asleep. "Jungkook" I say sleepily, still in a fucked out daze with my senses coming back to me one by one and remembering that I still have his dick buried deep inside me. 
"Jungkook your mom made us breakfast" I mumble out and all I'm left with are his soft snores and his hand squeezing my breast, still very much asleep. I take a deep breath and try to figure out my options here and decide to give him a not so rude awakening, fucking myself back against him leaving him stirring awake, letting out breathy moans still not fully conscious of what's going on. 
Once he starts to come to he slides his hand down to my hip, mumbling my name sleepily against my skin. "You're not playing fair" he says, moaning into my ear and only making me need him even more. "They called for us to come down for breakfast" and at that she echoes what she said before leaving Jungkook groaning, hating the thought of stopping. 
"Be there in a minute" he yells, trying to keep his voice level. "That hurt" I complain, scolding him for yelling in my ear. "You'll get over it" he says and bites down on my neck before gripping my hip again. He takes over, thrusting harder into me leaving me covering my mouth, staying quiet as a mouse knowing that for sure anyone could hear us. 
After both of us have come down from our high Jungkook give my shoulder as kiss and slips out, both of hating the loss of contact but knowing we need to stop. He gets up and brings me a warm damp towel and cleans me up before throwing me some new clothes to change into. 
"Can I borrow a hoodie too?" I ask and he turns around, placing it on the bed next to me. We take turns going into the bathroom and straightening ourselves up and I shrug the hoodie on at the end, throwing the hood up, pulling the drawstrings and tying them tight leaving him laughing at the sight. 
"What?" I ask, glaring at him. "You look ridiculous" he snorts and I roll my eyes leaving the bathroom and going back into his room, "I'd rather look ridiculous than show everyone downstairs what you did to me" I say, plopping down on his bed and waiting for him to put a shirt on although I would very much prefer he didn't. 
"It's fine don't worry about it. All the guys already know" he says, throwing on a hoodie on as well after noticing how cold it is. "Yeah but what about your parents! There's no way in hell I'm letting them see this" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and mentally praying that I'll sink into the floor to avoid this interaction all together. 
"They already know that I've liked you for the longest time so it was only a matter of time until this happened" and my jaw drops at the thought. "Your mom knew too? How many people knew before me" I ask, scared of what the answer might be. "Pretty much everyone that I'm close to. Even your parents knew" he says giving me a crooked smile.
"My parents knew?!?!" I gasp in total disbelief that this is happening. "It's not my fault you're oblivious" he say and I wack him in the arm leaving him laughing at, from his perspective my continued adorable reactions. 
"Let's just go downstairs and have breakfast alright. I promise you everyone knew this was gonna happen and they all have been very supportive of it for the longest time" he says, guiding me up and out of his room. "You know this isn't making me feel any better right?" I pout and his only response is placing a kiss on my lips before running downstairs leaving me behind. 
I take a deep breath and follow slowly behind him into the most embarrassing breakfast I'm sure I'll ever have.
"Good morning sleepy heads" Mrs. Jeon greets us as she places a bowl of strawberries on the table along with the other incredible looking food already set out for us. "Good morning" I say and plop down on the seat next to Jimin and across from Jungkook. 
"Did you guys sleep alright" he asks with a knowing smile leaving me sinking further down on the seat and covering my face. "I don't wanna talk about it" I mumble and he laughs but leaves it at that. It doesn't stop the amused glances from the rest of the group and the not so subtle teasing along with it though. 
"You alright there y/n you look kinda cold" Tae says as I take a drink of water making me choke, Jimin tapping on my back as I cough through it and try to catch my breath. "Yeah just a little" I say and glance over at Jungkook who is clearly loving this. 
He winks at me before reaching for my plate and adding some food to it, knowing what I like and don't like and putting the perfect amount. 
You know, I really am oblivious now that I think about it. He's always done stuff like this and has always taken care of me and wants to make sure I'm okay. I guess I always just chalked it up to friendship but again, I'm clearly just oblivious.
~~~~~
As the breakfast continues it goes from harmless teasing to comfortable conversation and soon we're all getting ready to head off. 
Once Jungkook and I are back upstairs I go into his room with the intention of gathering up my stuff but he has other ideas and presses me against the door, kissing me breathless. 
"Jungkook we need to get going" I groan and he kisses me once more before backing away. "Okay I just can't help it" he says, sad as if he had gotten his gameboy taken away. "I'm sure you'll live" I laugh and he rolls his eyes before getting a bag for me to put my stuff in and making sure I find everything. 
"Here" he says, throwing me my bra he found that had some how ended up the opposite side of the room. "Hey!" I yell and he giggles at my reaction before running out and heading downstairs. 
"Is y/n ready?" Jin asks as he looks back up towards the way that Jungkook had just came from. "Yeah she'll be out in a second" he says and Jin nods before smacking him upside the head. 
"Hey! What was that for?" he yells, making all the guys laugh at the interaction. "I told you to behave yet you did the exact opposite" he scolds, reminding him of the warning he gave us before we went upstairs. 
"Yeah well it kinda just...happened" he says shyly. "Uh huh" Jin says, rolling his eyes at him and walking out the door with a few other members. "I just hope you were careful" Hobi says putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hyung" he whines, dragging the word out leaving Hobi giggling on his way out to the car. 
"You gonna be ready to head out?" Namjoon asks when the others have already placed all of their stuff in the trunk. "Yeah but I'm gonna head back with y/n. I'll have a staff member pick me up from her place later" he says and Namjoon gives him a suspicious look before nodding and heading out as well. 
When Namjoon is just walking out is when I just start coming downstairs. "Oh are you guys all heading out?" I question surprised to see them go so soon. "They're gonna get going but I'm gonna drive back with you. Well as long as that's okay with you?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck again, I swear that's my favorite thing he does. 
"Sure, you can drive back with me" I say giving him a soft smile making him light up. "Awesome! Lemme just go say goodbye to mom" he says hurriedly and rushes to go find them with me following slowly behind. 
"You guys taking off too?" she asks, giving me a hug after letting go of Jungkook. "Yeah I've got a lot of work to do and need to rehearse before I meet up with the artists again this week" I say, pulling back and giving her a soft smile. "Well don't work too hard and make sure to keep an eye on him. And for heavens sake Jungkook ask her on a date already" she teases, whacking Jungkook on the arm. 
"Mom" Jungkook whines and I smile at the interaction. "Don't worry I'll keep him in check" I say and she chuckles while Jungkook glares at me. 
"Where's Mr. Jeon?" I question not seeing him anywhere. "Oh he had some errands to run but I'll let him know that you said goodbye" she says, placing a soft hand on my arm. "Yes please give him my best and thank you so much for everything! Hopefully we'll see each other again soon" I say and she nods and starts to walk us out. 
"I'm sure we will, you've gotta make sure to drag him along with you" she says, whacking him on the arm again leaving him rubbing the area, no doubt a bit sensitive from being thoroughly abused this morning. "I will" I say and we finish up our goodbyes at Jungkook's house and are soon finishing up at my parent's house as well. 
"Ask her out on a date already Jungkook I want some grandkids" my mom not so subtly whispers. "Mom!" I whine, surprised that she would be so bold to say something like that. "Honey you're not slick I promise. I could only imagine the damage that hoodie is hiding under there" she says with a wink. "MOM!" I yell and Jungkook giggles, oh how the turntables have turntabled. 
"Don't worry I've got it all under control" Jungkook says, giving my mom a hug and she's quickly shooing us out, reminding us to drive safe. "Hey toss me the keys" Jungkook says leaving my brows furrowed together but doing so all the same. 
"You wanna drive?" I question and he nods his head happily. "Yeah I don't get to do it often so I like to do it when I can" he explains, sinking down into the driver's seat. "You know that really makes me regret my decision" I say worriedly, doing just the same. "Oh come on I'm a great driver" he says, and I cock a brow at him. "Uh huh" I say, emphasizing each syllable and he rolls his eyes at me, starting the car and backing out of the driveway after we've both put our seatbelts on. 
We wave goodbye to my mom one last time and then we're on our way back to Seoul. 
"You know you better not make me regret this" I warn after we've been driving for a while making him look over at me. "Regret what?" he asks, turning down the music that we've been listening to. "Letting you take my virginity" I say and he swerves slightly. "Hey be careful!" I scold and quickly regains control of himself again. 
"You what? You mean to tell me that a fine ass, driven, mature and independent woman like you was a virgin?" he says, shocked at the thought. "Well it's the fact that I'm so driven and independent that that anything like that was put on the back burner. Plus how am I gonna find a regular guy attractive when I'm surrounded by idols all day?" I say and he sighs and rolls his eyes. 
"Don't get jealous" I taunt. "I'm not jealous!" he refutes. "Oh so you wouldn't care if Taehyung gave me his number?" "He did what?!?!" he says, swerving again when he goes to look at me. "If you're gonna keep doing this when I say the slightest thing then I'm gonna need you to pull over so I can drive" I say while holding onto the handle above the door. 
"It's fine, I'm fine" he says and takes a deep breath, continuing on our drive and the car goes silent for a while. 
"Did he really give you his number?" he mumbles, clearly still jealous. "No, but Hobi added me to the group chat" and he groans at the thought of it. "Great! Now I'm gonna have to pay more attention to what's going on in there" he whines and we continue on our journey laughing and teasing and singing and making fools out of ourselves the whole time. 
I guess some people really are meant to be together. Who knew that that quiet little kid drawing with sidewalk chalk on the playground would be the answer to my forever... 
The End... (lemme know if you guys want an epilogue hehe)
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ryewwww · 3 months ago
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Hi! Are you taking requests right now? If so, can you do one with older neighbor eren: baby trapping, dry humping, blindfold, face slapping
-> yes, requests are open!! (send me some juicy ones with lots of details)
-> I also just want to remind people that I don’t write sub!eren!!! (This is not towards this anon, I’m just saying in general so you know!!)
⚠️: NONCON, Corruption, manipulative!Eren, dry humping, use of blindfold, face slapping, baby trapping, breath control, squirting
Read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
Your parents were very conservative and kept you sheltered from the real world.
Their ideologies is what drove most of their families to stop talking to them
So it’s always just been the three of you
But it was okay—you were okay with it
They were excellent parents, bought you whatever you wanted and never yelled at you
They raised you to be good, and you were
Naive, sweet and selfless. Helping your elderly neighbours with their Facebook accounts and fixing all their internet problems.
You did good in school too, straight A student but your parents didn’t allow you to do extracurricular. They didn’t want you out of the house late.
They also had strict social media rules and a time limit on your phone—even after you turned 18.
But they paid for it, you lived under their roof so you had no choice but to obey.
When your elderly neighbor passed away, their house went on sale and a young guy from the church you frequented bought it.
You’d seen him around and heard about him through your dad. They often talked at church. He was in his mid thirties, divorced, no children. Came to town to start a new life, just wanting to be content.
His name was Eren, and he was easy on the eyes.
You’d be lying if you said he didn’t make you feel heated. You felt terrible for feeling that way, but when he’d talk to you, pay attention to you like you were the only girl in the world, it made you pretty feral.
It didn’t help that he often leaned into your delusions. He’d “accidentally” brush against your ass while trying to get some water. Or at church, his hand would slide between your inner thighs mindlessly.
You never spoke up, too ashamed to admit that it made you aroused.
Eren charmed his way to your parent’s good side. Your dad was best friends with him, which meant he was over at your house a lot. Nearly every evening, he’d join you for dinner and would stay for a beer or two afterwards with your dad.
Point is, your parents trusted him.
So, when your dad’s father passed away, they asked Eren to stay over and watch over you.
You couldn’t go with your parents because you had school, and found it bizarre that they didn’t trust you to stay home alone.
You tried to defend yourself but your dad was already in a tough place. So you let it slide.
Your parents leave, embracing you one last time while telling you to good, and to listen to Eren.
“I’m not a child, mom. I’ll be fine. Have a safe flight.”
They lug their bags out, start the car and leave.
You were about to go back to your room until Eren spoke, “you wanna get some pizza?”
“Um, sure.”
“Cool.”
God, you don’t know why it was so awkward. So you scurry back to your room to escape the tension.
When the pizza arrives, he calls you down. You go, grab 2 slices before heading back up stairs.
“Where you going? Let’s watch a movie or something. Is this house you treat your guest?”
He was teasing, but you were a bit embarrassed. You softly apologize, sitting at the edge of the couch, while he sat down right next to you.
Your heartbeat was ridiculously fast as you watched him turn on a horror movie before sitting back and munching on his pizza.
You hated horror—your parents would never let you watch this kind of shit in the first place.
But you were meek, too afraid to speak up because Eren seemed to be enjoying it.
For most of the movie you hid under the blanket. But during the scary parts he pried it away forcing you to watch.
You closed your eyes, plugged your ears and he laughs while tickling you to look
The whole thing left you in a compromising position
You were laid on your back, breathless. Your tits were pushed up, nearly slipping out your tank top. Your shorts had moved down a bit, exposing a little bit of your baby pink, cotton underwear.
Eren’s above you, taking in how you look beneath him, his cock growing harder by the second.
He stares for a moment before leaning down and kissing you. He’s impatient, ripping your tank top into two, lips attaching to your hard nipple.
The shorts are torn apart too, exposing the wet spot in the middle of your underwear.
His hands were quick, sliding in your underwear before sliding two fingers in
Your hips buck, hands coming up to grip his biceps
“You’re so fucking tight.” He hissed. “Let’s fix that, yeah?”
He pulls his sweats and boxers down in one motion and you panic (cuz of his huge cock).
You sit up, backing up a bit.
“Wait, wait I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
But he doesn’t back down. Are you kidding?
He pulls you back down and you yelp, pushing at his chest. He’s got you folded in half, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy
“Wait, I-I don’t”
“It’s okay, I’ll be gentle”
He hushes you, pushing his tip into you.
You squirm, crying at the stretch. “Please! I don’t wanna do this.”
Eren expected you to be a virgin. You were tight like one but when no blood leaked through, he roughly grabbed your neck, forcing you to look at him.
“Is this your first time?”
Your face burned in shame because it wasn’t. Back in high school, you were pressured to give your precious virginity to the popular boy.
You shook your head and he slaps you, making you sob harder.
“And here I was going easy on you. You’re a fucking whore. Does your daddy know you’ve disgraced yourself?”
From there, he had no mercy.
He waited long for this. Ever since he laid eyes on you, all he wanted to do was corrupt you.
He got close to your family, was your dad’s only friend. Isolating you was too easy—your parents had practically done it for him.
Now it was his time to take.
His pace increased, balls slapping against your ass. You can only cry. Eren was much bigger and stronger than you, there’s no way you could fight him off.
He held your body down, tightening the grip on your neck when you moved around too much.
Eren had no mercy on you. Not one ounce of remorse. He fucked you through each orgasm.
“Please slower! It hurts- it’s too much, please!” You whimper out but he backhands you hard.
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna fucking hear you.”
His hand pressed down on your stomach so he could feel himself. He was in deep, tip pushing against your wall with each thrust.
He didn’t stop until he was satisfied.
You had passed out of exhaustion, head fuzzy because he was restricting your breathing
When you woke up, there was a blindfold on you. You were on your side and Eren was behind you.
His arms were wrapped around your body, keeping you close to him
You move frantically, trying to get the blindfold off, and it seemed to wake Eren.
He groaned, pulling you tighter against him before throwing his leg over yours and grinding his dick against your slit.
It’s enough to get him going so he quickly manhandles you to be on top of him, grinding his hardening cock against you.
You couldn’t help but moan. The tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit, and it left you wanting more.
Eren notices this of course, and ruts against you faster and when you respond by moving your hips, it was game over.
“Atta, girl. You fucking love this just as much as I do, don’t you?”
His cock slips in, you whimper but let him hold you against his chest. His hips move faster into you and you move with him, eager to release.
The room filled with filthy sounds, his grunting and your moaning until you squirted around him, soaking his pelvis and the bedsheets under.
Eren whistles before chuckling, “and you were fucking begging me to stop. Your pussy begs to differ, sweetheart.”
You definitely weren’t in your right mind, but Eren was so big, the way he filled you to the brim had you seeing stars
“Take the blindfold off. I can’t see anything.” You whine, breathlessly.
“That’s the whole point, baby.”
He doesn’t take it off, instead pulls you down for a kiss before flipping your position. He’s got you on your back, thighs pressed into your chest.
He pushed in again, hips snapping into you, desperate for another release.
At this point your thighs are shaking, and you’re throbbing down there. It was a new feeling, it hurt but felt good at the same time so you didn’t know what to think of it.
Eren’s pace was ruthless. He had pretty good stamina plus, making a mess of you, it kept his dick pretty fucking hard.
The weekend was filled with filthy fucking.
When I tell you he fucked you all over the house, I goddamn mean it.
Kitchen, living room, shower, closet, the fucking laundry room. He had you outside, legs spread as he fucked you on a lawn chair.
He was pounding into your pussy, rubbing your clit while saying, “gonna marry you, baby. Make you my wife, knock you full with my kids. How does that sound?”
“N-no! My parents would-ah! Eren!” Your fingers flew to his hair, legs shaking as you came around him.
He slaps you, “you don’t have a fucking choice. Unless you wanna disgrace your family name by having a child before marriage.”
You rubs your clit before bottoming out and cumming inside you again. You shake, as he pulls another orgasm from you
“When your parents come back, we’ll ask for their blessing, yeah?”
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Hope you liked it <3 sorry for any mistakes 😵‍💫
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mv1simp · 11 months ago
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I love it you last smut with max!!! I would love some more about sucking him off and he film you while he praises you.
Thank you so much💖💖💖💖💖💖
I gotchu anon here u go 🫶🫶
Popular ♥️
Max Verstappen x Enemy Reporter!Reader
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money on top of me, money on top of her, yeah, shawty fuck with me ‘cause she know I’m popular
As Sky Sport’s latest F1 reporter, you’re determined to do whatever it takes to stand out amongst the crowd. You’re notorious for your ability to make Mad Max break out of his media trained facade, all your interviews with him going viral. But after his 10th PR debriefing over you, Max has had enough. Next time, it was your turn to be in front of the camera.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, filming, enemies to lovers , blowjobs, size kink, dom! Max and brat!reader 😼, 4k WC
And there you have it folks, another disappointing 2nd place for Redbull’s golden boy for the 3rd race in a row here in Spa, you say into the microphone with a smirk. Let’s go directly to him now, shall we?
Walking over to the post race media room, you make your way to the primary interviewer position, right on the front row, ignoring the jealous stares from other reporters scattered in the rows behind you. You’re chatting to your cameraman, instructing him to make sure he gets your good side, please, I don’t want to be on Channel 3 looking like a rat compared to these model drivers again when the podium winners walk in. Max Verstappen’s ice blue eyes immediately narrow as they lock onto yours, and he has to resist the scowl that threatens to appear on his face. He fucking hated your boss for always sending you - his most aggravating reporter - to make any bad race Max has even worse.
To the left of him, Charles and Lewis shared an amused glance as they watch their fellow pilot shoot daggers at you, who in turn greeted him with a predatory smile that would put a great white shark to shame. You decide to toy with your food a bit, turning your gaze to the other drivers, welcoming them sweetly and asking how they found the race. The many cameras on Max’s face didn’t fail to pick up how the so called flying Dutchman continued to stare at you brazenly as he contemplated your tumultuous history.
It wasn’t that you were a bad reporter. If anything, Max thought you had a knack for matching your questions to the athlete that you interviewed, and spoke in a charismatic and engaging way that had most of the grid happily stop on a race weekend to chat with you. You always made an effort to get genuine stories from the drivers, compared to many other news outlets, and it had been noticed amongst the grid, who preferred you as one of the reporters they engaged with - making you quickly skyrocket in popularity with viewers and establish yourself as a front row media figure. And it certainly helped that you were easy on the eyes, quickly become a familiar sight in well picked classy but flattering outfits to suit the Grand Prix locations.
Max could still remember the first time he saw you - dressed in a long sleeved, full length crimson dress that flattered your shorter figure, with long, dark curls framing your face and full lips as you laughed at something your colleague had said. He’d noticed you immediately in the media room, a pretty figure amongst the usual crowd, even going so far as to ask his PR manager who you were. But for all your charming media skills or cute outfits, you had made an enemy very quickly out of Max Verstappen the moment you opened your glossed lips and asked him how he felt after crashing into Hamilton’s car, yet going onto celebrate 1st on the podium while Lewis had to be taken to hospital.
It was almost a complete personality switch. While the other drivers got your thoughtful questions, Max was repeatedly hit with the most provoking shit from you. It was like you knew exactly what to say to turn him into that seething, infamous Mad Max, brows furrowed and a scowl on his face as he scoffed out replies to your invading questions. To your credit, you were able to elicit a lot more information and honesty from Max than other reports could, despite his angry tone. And while others backed down immediately when the reigning world champion started to get agitated, you would just lock in with a deceivingly innocent smile and escalate your questions.
Social media absolutely loved it, making endless videos of you interviewing Max go viral, countless memes emerging every post race debrief when you would ask some ridiculous question and Max would respond with something equally ridiculous, often resulting in back and forth bickering. It had gotten to the point where Max had had over ten - ten! - interventions with his own PR team who had begged him to please just ignore your provoking statements, just rise above, don’t engage -
Fuck that. Max Verstappen wasn’t a coward that backed down from a fight - but at the same time, he didn’t want to give in and give you what you wanted. He knew your type - just a clout chaser, going after him specifically as he was the fastest driver on the grid and would get you the most views. He was no stranger to being hated on and antagonised after toppling the Mercedes winning streak. His attention draws back to the present as he sees you finally turn to him, tilting your head coyly as you open those deceivingly sweet lips of yours again. That was some incredible driving out there today, Verstappen you say innocently, making Max narrow his eyes again as he didn’t buy it for a second. Incredibly dirty, some may say - judging by the 5 point penalty the stewards gave you. Why do you think you struggle to race wheel to wheel fairly?
Max felt his jaw clench at your provoking accusation. Behind him, his PR manager sighed and already started trying out a draft Instagram thirst trap that would hopefully do some damage control as Max heatedly dismissed your statements, insulting the steward’s decision in the process. This was going to be a long, long afternoon.
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Max sighed, rolling out the tension in his neck as he sank down in the VIP area of the Monaco club, sculling his G&T. Beside him, Lando laughed at the sorry sight the current F1 champion had been reduced to after last weekend’s post race debrief had, as usual, gone viral due to a certain crafty reporter who had played the hotheaded Redbull driver like a fiddle. Mate, you let her wind you up too much, Lando said, smirking. It’s just classic journalist clickbait, you’ve dodged shit like that hundreds of times. Why do you keep letting her get inside your head?
Max didn’t respond, choosing to slam down his first glass and pick up a second G&T. Lando leaned in conspiratorially. Don’t tell me you secretly have the hots for her, mate. Is that why you two are always going at it? Too much sexual tension? She’s pretty fit and all, but you could easily get any hotter chick -
This time Max turns to glare at Lando, his furrowed brows clearly telling him to fuck off. Lando throws his hands up in mock defense, Just jokes, just jokes. But hey, speak of the devil and she shall appear. He says, looking behind Max and letting out a low whistle. And damn, the devil didn’t come to play tonight, that dress should be illegal. I get it the appeal now Max-
Rolling his eyes, the older blonde driver finishes his drink and stands up, telling Lando to come find it when he’s done being a prick. Striding off to the opposite end of the club, he doesn’t bother looking in your direction even once. He’d had enough of your annoying presence on the track to be able to deal with it off it.
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Across the neon dance floor, you laugh cheerfully with your friends, cheersing to shots together. Tossing your shot glass back, you reach for another, hoping your friends don’t notice the disappointed flicker on your face when you had heard Lando’s laugh from the VIP section, only to look up and see Max’s wide shoulders disappear off into the crowd, no doubt leaving the club as soon as he saw you.
Honestly, you couldn’t blame him, you thought glumly. You weren’t entirely sure just how the dynamics between you too had ended up so rife with tension. You had been so excited to interview the Dutch champion for the first time, spending ages picking out your most flattering outfit and matching gold accessories, and had even picked the perfect question to let him showcase his empathy. You had a soft spot for the driver racing with the MV33 tag growing up as you related to having strict parents yourself. Seeing Max shine at such a young age against much older, experienced competition had been so cool you’d instantly become a fan. So you had asked him about his infamous crash into the reigning champion, Lewis Hamilton, hoping to give him an chance to share his side of the story about how he was forced to continue the race due to team orders - but instead found yourself at the end of a scathing reply from the older athlete.
It’s always the people who have never been behind the wheel of a race car who have the most to say, Max had replied that day, on live TV with a condescending look, I don’t tell you how to be an influencer and you shouldn’t tell me how to be a driver, okay sweetheart?
You had flushed, too embarrassed to even stutter out a reply, and as another reporter mercifully took over you excused yourself from the room. The memory of your first F1 interview still radiated crystal clear in your mind and brought you back to the present as your friends waved their hands in your face to get your attention. Oh yeah, that’s right - that’s why you hated the cocky Dutch driver, you thought darkly, tossing back another shot. And why you’d never do him the service of being a courteous reporter to him ever again.
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Vowing to put all thoughts of your biggest annoyance to the back of your mind, you let yourself be dragged onto the dance floor. For the next 3 hours you drink and dance, celebrating the start of the summer break. You slipped away from the group at one point to go to the bathroom. You’re walking back down the dim hallway to the club when a hand reaches out to tap your shoulder, and you turn around to find a guy you’d seen eyeing you up earlier grinning a bit too sleazily at you, introducing himself as Rossi and asking if he can buy you a drink. Politely rejecting him, you turn back around but he grabs your arm this time, spouting some bullshit about playing hard to get, huh, dressed like that?
You scowl, immediately turned off, and forcefully twist his arm around and push him away, telling him very firmly to piss off. He look startled at your reply, and you roll your eyes at his performance before moving away but apparently this asshole just couldn’t take a hint, cause this time he grabs both your shoulders and pushing you into the wall. You’re starting to get a little panicked now, knowing you two are in a quieter hallway and the shots you had taken earlier have caught up and made you weaker -
Then he’s all but thrown off of you, crashing into the opposite wall in a display of pure strength. I’m pretty sure she told you to fuck off, cunt. Keep your hands off of her.
You’d recognize that deep Dutch accent anywhere. Your jaw drops as you look up to see Max Verstappen’s back, dressed in a fitted white tee, now standing in between you and Rossi. Peeking over his broad shoulders on your tip toes, using your small hands to grasp Max’s bicep and steady yourself on your heels, you see Rossi angrily stalk towards Max, opening his mouth - then close it as he realises he’s much shorter and this was a dumb idea. Max smirks as he watches the other man sulkily storm away. He turns around, an almost gentle look on his face as he asks you okay, schat? Are you hurt?
You stare up at him, a little dazed by how handsome Max looks in this lighting and how hot it had been seeing Max protect you. The driver’s gaze turns to your hand, where your pink manicured nails are still holding onto his large bicep. Flushing, you move your hand and stutter out an affirmation that you’re fine, don’t worry, thanks so much -
Max hmms in response, pulling back from your space and immediately making you miss his warmth. You shouldn’t wander away from your friends all alone, he says, It’s not safe. Especially for someone your size.
His steely blue eyes are raking up and down your petite form, sending butterflies swirling but you’re also annoyed at his condescending tone. I had it handled, you say defensively, crossing your arms and looking away, missing how Max’s gaze flickers to your tits which are now pushed up.
Yeah, I’m sure you had it handled, he snorts. What were you going to do, throw one of your heels at him? Seriously, you need to be able to protect yourself better if you’re going to go out looking like this.
He pointedly glances at the glittery mini dress you had on, with a sweetheart halter neckline, ending mid thigh with matching lace up strappy heels. A perfect club outfit, the gold matching your tanned skin, and brought to you by Versace.
What the fuck, Verstappen you hiss, seething as he immediately ruins the two seconds of tranquility you two had shared. Why do you always have to be so goddamn misogynistic? Blaming the woman’s choice of outfit? Seriously? You’re no better than that creep Rossi!
Your voice starts to rise as you glare up at him defiantly. Suddenly, loud voices make you both look down the corridor as some clubgoers start approaching. Not done with your argument but not wanting another PR fiasco all over Page 6 tomorrow, Max grabs your waist and pulls you into one of the staircases leading upstairs.
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You end up on a private, dark balcony overlooking the quiet Monaco marina. The club’s bass vibrates through the walls against where a small sofa rests with an ashtray nearby, designating it as an intimate smoking area.
Max slams the door behind you two, locking it for good measure as you whirl back around, still keyed up. You’re comparing me to that piece of shit? Seriously? Max scoffs, rolling his eyes and resuming your argument. Let me guess, tomorrow morning you’ll conveniently have a new headline about how I hate women and I’m a misognistic pig, blah blah blah.
You glare at his dismissal, stepping closer to back him up into the door behind him. Well, aren’t you Verstappen? What do you expect me to wear, sweatpants? It’s a fucking club, everyone dresses like this! The first time I ever interviewed you, you literally thought I was some random makeup obsessed influencer when I’m an Oxford educated journalist!
I know that now! Max snaps. You just asked me about the one thing I didn’t want to talk about and I got mad. I didn’t realize you were going to bite my head off every interview after that and just use me to to blow up online!
You pause, then begrudgingly mutter that you supposed you’d dragged out the grudge a touch longer than necessary. It was the Leo in you, after all. But Max wasn’t done - Fuck, all I meant was you look good tonight and a lot of guys have been checking you out, so just watch out, okay?
Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment, as althought you had always found him attractive, you’d never thought Max found you to be. Oh, you say, unable to hold back the blush in your face. Thank you. I owe you one, I guess.
You realize in the heat of the moment you had pushed right up against him, your soft chest up against his toned abs - giving him the perfect view as you calmed down from your heaving breaths. Max’s eyes darkened as you glanced from your chest up to his eyes, realising the compromising position as well and biting your lip.
Well, you could start by apologising to me, he says with a smirk as he pushes off the door, making you stumble back towards the sofa. That’s bullshit, Verstappen. I already said thank you. If you’re just gonna be a dick again I’m leaving, you respond automatically, but you let him continue to gently guide you back.
We both know you could have left anytime you wanted, schatje, Max breathes, bending down to your level as you come to a stop in front of the sofa, his lips grazing your ear and making your pussy throb from how goddamn sexy he sounded. Fuck, you were down bad. He grins cockily, not missing how you gasped sweetly and squeezed your plush thighs together at his words. Your gazes meet heatedly, and he finally ends the agonising tension by tilting your head up and joining your lips in a deep kiss.
You moan into it, his tongue swiping across yours skilfully and sending sparks shooting down to your pussy which was getting wetter by the second. Max pulls back, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your glossed lips. Why don’t you be a good girl for once and apologise to me nicely, yeah?
You refuse to budge. I’m not saying shit, Verstappen you say brattily. Just try and make me. Max smirks as you seal your fate. Let’s put that filthy mouth of yours to good use for once, he commands, and next thing his strong hand is pushing you down to your knees, making you come face to face with a very sizeable bulge. You gasp, looking up at him as he unbuckles himself, the clink of his belt buckle audible even over the thumping bass. His thick, veiny cock bounces out and lands across your pouting face with a smack. He grins as your eyes go wide at his size, jaw dropped as you begin to salivate at the sight. You’d definitely has one (or two) wet dreams like this - not that you would ever admit it to him.
God, you’re such a fucking slut, practically drooling for it already, huh? He teases condescendingly. You moan when he smacks your chubby cheeks with his warm length. I’m not, you whine, Stop being such a bully-mmmfhh!
He shuts up your pathetic whinging by nestling his tip against your pretty pink lips. Go on then, he mocks. You owe me one, right? Help me relax after all the stress you caused me last weekend.
You huff, still glaring at him through your dark lashes but obediently swipe a kitten lick across his leaking cockhead. Mmm, he tasted so good, you could easily see yourself become addicted. You move down his shaft, leaving teasing, gentle kisses and lipgloss marks along his length. He clenches his jaw at your deliberate teasing, telling you to quit it, but you just smirk and suckle on the very end, moving your tongue in circles to overstimulate his sensitive tip. Max moans, his hips bucking forward involuntarily but he quickly regains control and tangles a strong hand through your curls, dragging you forward to nestle in between his wide legs as he settles back comfortably on the sofa. I need to teach you some goddamn manners, huh?
You squeal from the rough treatment, your hands automatically grabbing to those thick thighs of his, opening your mouth in protest but you don’t get a chance to as he slams your plush lips down onto his length, burying himself in one go. Oh, fuck yeah, he moans, even better than I imagined, liefje. You whine and splutter, struggling to breathe at the unexpected intrusion and tap at his legs but he hold you down, blissfully enjoying your tight throat enveloping his cock. You can take it, right baby? Gonna be a good girl for me and keep my dick warm?
His condescending words should be making you angrier but instead you find yourself moaning against him, finding his dominating nature sooo hot. Tightening his hold, he now controls the pace as he jackhammers away happily, without a single care for your muffled squeals. You feel yourself melting at each thrust, looking up at him with starry glazed eyes. He smirks at the sexy sight, using his other hand to fish out his phone and hit record, blinding you temporarily with the flash.
Fucked the brat right out of ya, huh? He teases arrogantly, the camera picking up all the dirty, wet noises you’re making as you deepthroat him. Go on, time to go viral, tell everyone how much you wanted this. You look so much better in front of the camera and not behind it.
He yanks you off his length for a minute, letting you gasp and greedily suck in air as you give in completely to his demands. I do! I do want it, so bad Maxie, you whine. He tuts, slapping your lips with his thick length again and leaving streaks of pre cum all over your face. You can do better than that, sweetheart, you normally have such a way with words.
You whine at his ministrations, instinctively chasing after his tip when he withdraws it, making him chuckle at how cockdrunk he had made you. P-please Maxie, I’m sorry, so sorry for being a bitch, please let me suck you off and make it up to you, please-
Oh, he could get used to the sound of you begging and sweetly moaning his first name very, very easily. Ending your torment, he glides back through your eager lips at an angle, poking through your cheek. He zooms in to capture the filthy sight - tears that drip down your face, messily smudging your mascara and mixing with the trails of precum on your cheeks. Imagine if your boss saw this, huh? Shall I send him a dirty film? He’d lose his goddamn mind seeing his favourite reporter on her knees begging for a dirty driver’s cock.
You bob your head frantically, moaning as your eyes roll back from the intensity of it all. Your lacy panties are glued to your pussy with how wet you are. You’re taking me so well, schat, he pants, cursing, Fuck, it’s like you were made for me. If I’d known you were s’good at suckin me off I’d have you doin’ this after every race. Throwing his head back, he pushes you all the way down, your nose buried into his sweaty abs as he finishes, releasing thick ropes of cum down your eagerly awaiting throat. He holds you there as he roughly orders you to take it all for him, that’s right, just like that. He slides out of you with a wet sound. Open that gorgeous mouth for me, baby.
You obediently drop your lips wide open, tongue poking out so the camera can capture that you’ve swallowed every drop, just like he asked. Satisfied, Max tosses his phone to the side and easily lifts you up with his strong arms to straddle his lap. You immediately grind your desperate pussy against him, hands tangling in his hair as you sloppily make out. His large fingers grip your glittery minidress as he pulls back to grin down at you. Wear this outfit again, he says huskily. In fact, wear whatever you want, anytime. I can fight.
You laugh at his sweetness, heart fluttering at the thought of always having Max by your side to protect you. You know I’m never going to stop annoying you on the paddock, right? You threaten, although you’re smiling. It makes for great content. My boss would never forgive me.
Wouldn’t have it any other way, darling. We have a reputation to maintain, Max replies easily, grinning back at you as he pulls you back in. After all, you two had a lot of apologies to make up for and had found the perfect way to say sorry 💖
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A/N: so I can never just write a short lil quick fic it always has to be an essay apparently?!? Anyways GLAD YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS THEME EHEHEHE I LOVED WRITING THIS SEND IN MKRE REQUESTS!! 🫶🫶🫶
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knight-of-flowerss · 3 months ago
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dad!trucker cregan would go crazy 😛😋
like…lets be real reader would be pregnant all of time with an army of his lil clones
OH MY GOD YES I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THINGGGG 🙏🙏 THANK YOU ANON FOR THISSS
MDNI 18+!!!
Dad!Trucker!Cregan x Pregnant!Reader.
MASTERLIST
I got another ask like this but imma focus more on domestic Cregan in it but knowing him he's probs gonna say summin horny or do summin so 😭
Here is the other blurb
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🛻•Trucker!Cregan 100%, absolutely loves to stuff you full of his kids, I mean, come on, have you seen the dude?
🛻•He hasn't even put a ring on it yet but you're already pregnant, seven months down.
🛻•I mean, can you even be surprised? He doesn't care. He's selfish. He never wanted to use condoms, hated them, he doesn't care what you think. He wants it raw, so you take it raw.
🛻•His favourite thing to do when you’re pregnant is making you ride him. Your libido is through the fucking roof as you're practically humping his thigh like a chihuahua.
🛻•Fucking evil. You're so whiny as you ride him nice and slow, his shit eating grin as he rests his large, calloused hands on your hips. Not moving you, just resting there. Letting you do all the fucking work.
🛻•But, kudos to Cregan because even though he gets more of a fucking prick at some points when you're pregnant (like making you ride him), he does give a lot more.
🛻•Whenever he drives you anywhere in his big truck, whether it's to get food or shopping for the baby, he loves to finger you in the passenger seat while he drives.
🛻•I mean, who is he to deny you when you want to fuck him 24/7? That's exactly what he wants to do to you.
🛻•Seeing you swollen, pregnant with his baby, it drives him fucking feral. Normally, he loved going on his long haul drives, it made you whiny and begging for more. He fucking lived for it. But when you're pregnant? You're horny all the time and he can't handle not being inside of you.
🛻•When he would get back after a few days? Fuck. You'd be all over him, he swears his cock is dry by the end of the night, he physically can't cum anymore. And even when he's on the road, you send him the most slutty and gorgeous pictures, even a video every now and then.
🛻•But ever since you got pregnant? You're both desperate, he literally makes you sit on FaceTime for most of his long drives, just watching you fuck yourself with the dildo he made.
🛻•A bit off topic, but Trucker!Cregan 100% made a mould of his cock to turn into a dildo for you. In his eyes, you're made for his cock and his cock only.
🛻•By the time he's been with for you a few years, you have four kids under four and pregnant again. It's as if he can't stand to see you empty.
🛻•Also, one thing he loves about you when you're pregnant is how sensitive your tits are. As I've said before, Trucker!Cregan is selfish. He would never give you pleasure unless he got something in return.
🛻•So he loved your sensitive tits 'cause whenever you get angry at him, he grabs your hips, albeit softer than when you're not pregnant, and pushes you against whatever surface is near.
🛻•"Who you think ya talkin' t'? Huh?" He'd growl into your ear as his hand moves up your jumper, grabbing your tit, milk seeping through the fabric before he tweaks your nipple softly. You're so sensitive that just his words were enough to make you a whimpering mess and with the added pleasure of his hand, you're gone.
🛻•And even though he loved getting you pregnant, the kids fucking annoy him most of the time. Not that he doesn't love them, but because he can't have a moments fucking peace with you.
🛻•He'll be balls deep inside of you, pillows stuffed behind the bed frame to muffle the banging from your kids. His hand grips your mouth, clasping down as he fucks you, getting lost in the moment before a scream rips through the air. You get concerned, trying to push Cregan off to check on your poor baby but he just pins your hips down and fucks you harder.
🛻•He tries to ignore it, he really does, but the moment a cry racks the house, his boner faded inside of you. Cockblock. He doesn't pull out because he's concerned for his kid, he pulls out because you beg him to. If it was him, he'd say 'fuck the kid' and keep on going until he got hard again. But hearing you telling him to get off and his kid sobbing at the door. Yeah. Major boner killer.
🛻•All Cregan wants to do is fuck you silly like the good little slut he knows that you are. No matter what, no matter how selfish he is, you'll always come back for more. Even if he's old enough to be your dad, even if he's gotten you pregnant more times than he's met your parents, you love him. Actually, you have like zero clue if it's actually love or just plain lust.
🛻•But one thing you do know? No matter how much he thinks you're his, no matter how much he thinks he wears the pants in your relationship, you know the truth. He's pussy whipped, you've got him wrapped around your finger, he would do literally anything to see your pussy.
🛻•Also, Dad!Trucker!Cregan one million percent fucks your face in the school parking lot while waiting for your two eldest kids at kindergarten. He knows it's perverted, but fuck, those pretty eyes, heavy tits, swollen belly? His dick immediately springs up, he can't help it.
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I lowkey went all over the place with this one 😭 so it's a bit messy but Cregan is a horny messy guy, so, it makes sense.
Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom
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sutorus · 2 years ago
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Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘
JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD
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FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs
A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO
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GOJO SATORU
warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety
you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous. 
one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief. 
so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body. 
any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms. 
but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time. 
his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it. 
you furrow your brows. 
“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for. 
“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”
you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck. 
“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.
satoru notices, but not in the right way. 
“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word. 
satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder. 
gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers. 
he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes. 
“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”
you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”
you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes. 
“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”
he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile. 
“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.
satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly. 
“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“
“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”
at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch. 
“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”
“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”
“yeah? you’re not upset?”
“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”
you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.
you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul. 
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GETO SUGURU
warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive
you don’t know how long it’s been. 
maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety. 
you don’t know how many times you came. 
your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal. 
suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt. 
he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same. 
the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again. 
“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“
“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”
you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum. 
your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm. 
except this time, the break doesn’t come. 
“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy. 
he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again. 
“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“
“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation. 
usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations. 
“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”
you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none. 
“please please fuck please no more—“
it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place. 
oh right. the safe word. 
you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress. 
it all happens so fast, after that.
suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation. 
“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”
“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically. 
“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”
you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words. 
hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach. 
“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”
you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure. 
“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.” 
suguru turns his head to look up at you. 
“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”
“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”
“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown. 
you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking. 
you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.
“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.
“hmm?”
“can you promise me something?”
he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”
“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”
it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)
“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”
you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man. 
he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features. 
if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you. 
until you met toji, that is. 
he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar. 
as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too. 
tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty. 
“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket. 
“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”
you smile sweetly, linking arms with him. 
soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back. 
you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one. 
he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock. 
“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”
you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time. 
you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it. 
“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”
toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down. 
he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.
the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t. 
and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears. 
toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife. 
suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths. 
he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”
you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs. 
“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.
you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying. 
he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand. 
“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you. 
you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down. 
“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”
he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs. 
toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up. 
“wait here,” he orders. 
you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger. 
toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it. 
“you okay?” he asks. 
you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod. 
“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”
“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”
he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree. 
there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again. 
“i’m sorry, honey. really.”
and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it. 
“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“
“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”
that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on. 
“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”
“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him. 
when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 
“when?” is all he asks. 
impossibly, your smile grows even wider. 
“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up. 
you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. 
he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror. 
“are ya really going to do this to me now?”
you grin. 
“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”
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a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!
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fraugwinska · 1 year ago
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If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx
Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words
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You were doing so well. So, so well.
Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.
But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.
It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.
You had done so well.
But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.
Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.
The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.
Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...
"Darling..."
You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.
"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."
He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.
"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."
You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?
"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."
He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.
"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."
A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?
"Please don't hate me..."
He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.
"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."
A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.
"I'm... so weak."
"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."
He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.
"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."
How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.
"You are doing well, my love."
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inkblot22 · 1 year ago
Text
Give You Something To Cry About
Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.
This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.
TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.
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“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”
You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.
He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”
Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”
He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.
You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.
Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.
“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”
Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?
He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”
You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”
“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.
Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.
You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.
The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream? 
You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.
By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together. 
You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”
You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.
He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”
You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.
“Do you have something to say?”
You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”
“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”
You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.
 You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.
Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.
“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”
You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he’s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.
“Who is it?”
That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”
You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”
As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.
Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.
“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”
Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.
“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”
You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.
“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.
You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”
“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”
You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”
“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”
Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”
“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”
Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.
Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.
His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.
“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”
“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”
He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.
“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.
You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you. 
“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.
With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.
Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”
“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”
You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”
“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”
“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.
His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.
It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.
It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.
His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.
Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.
He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open. 
He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.
“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.
You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t… 
You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.
Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears. 
Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.
Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves. 
It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage. 
From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.
Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.
You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.
“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”
He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.
Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”
“N-no, Vil-”
“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”
You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”
“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.
You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.
“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.
You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.
“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.
“I see. What did he do?” 
You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”
“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”
You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.
You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.
He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”
You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”
That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together. 
Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.
For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.
“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”
You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.
Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.
“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.
Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.
Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.
“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais été très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say. 
You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”
Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.
Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.
Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”
You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.
He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”
Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.
“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you. 
It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.
“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”
You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”
“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.
“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”
You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.
Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.
He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”
Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.
You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.
You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today, 
“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”
Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.
You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”
“Why?” Rook asks.
Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.
“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”
“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?
You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”
“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.
You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.
Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.
“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”
That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.
You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.
It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.
Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.
He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.
At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.
You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.
“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”
“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.
“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”
You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.
He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”
You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.
You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”
Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”
“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”
You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.
His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.
“Wait-”
“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.
You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.
You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff. 
He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”
“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.
Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.
“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”
You’re honest, “I’m scared.”
“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”
“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does. 
Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw. 
Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”
You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.
“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.
“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.
Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.
It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.
Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.
“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.
“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”
The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily. 
He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”
From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”
“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.
Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.
As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.
You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.
It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you. 
You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?
You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”
Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.
“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.
“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”
“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.
“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.
You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.
You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.
“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”
Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”
A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.
“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”
You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.
You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.
“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.
“Yes, Vil.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”
It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.
“How are you feeling, cheri?”
“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.
“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.
The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”
“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”
You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.
You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?
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devildomwriter · 2 years ago
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A Christmas Song They Absolutely Hate
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A request by an anon
Lucifer (That damn chipmunk song)
Enough said, he cannot tolerate it at all, the second he hears those squeaky voices he’ll react somewhat violently. Whatever he needs to do to get that music to stop the fastest, he will do, even launching Mammon into the speaker.
Mammon (Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer)
He hates the song. He’s not so big an idiot that he doesn’t realize everyone only suddenly likes Rudolph because they think he’s useful, he thinks it’s a bad song and the reindeer are big jerks.
Leviathan (Baby, it’s cold outside)
“Those fucking normies. They’re just all over each other, go to hell.”
Satan (God rest ye merry gentlemen.)
They literally diss him in the song, like what’d he do to those guys personally, it makes him very angry to hear carolers singing it especially.
Innocent Carolers: “To save us all from Satan’s power—“
Satan: *yelling from across the street* “I didn’t do anything to you!”
Asmodeus (That damn chipmunk song)
Like normally squeaky or soft voices are kinda cute but nuh-uh, not this one. It feels like nails on a chalkboard to him.
Beelzebub (Believe)
He doesn’t really care but the song Believe makes him kinda sad.
It’s a great song with a bittersweet message and it makes him tear up a little when he hears it so he’s come to not like it much.
Belphegor (Anything hard to fall asleep to)
It doesn’t matter the song, if it’s too uppitty he can’t fall asleep. Even Christmas gospel can send him to sleep but not something like All I Want For Christmas is You.
Solomon (That damn chipmunk song)
It needs no introduction. It’s a song he’d hoped would die out soon after its release but it’s been well over a decade and occasionally he hears it playing and sighs deeply at how disappointing human musical taste has become.
Thirteen (That damn chipmunk song)
She hates it and will only occasionally tolerate it by playing it whenever Solomon is nearby in hopes of seeing his face fall.
Simeon (Santa baby)
The song really drives him nuts, he doesn’t have a real reason he just really dislikes it. Maybe it’s the greed at Christmas time which isn’t even about gifts, but it just really irks him.
Luke
He loves them all, except super romantic ones because that’s not what Christmas is about!
Raphael (All I want for Christmas is you)
That’s not the point of Christmas at all and the song mentions nothing about the true meaning of Christmas everything about some random romantic interest really irritates him. He’s not above spearing the sound system if the song isn’t changed.
Michael (12 days of Christmas)
It's just so long and repetitive.
He’d rather listen to shorter songs than one that just doesn’t seem to end, like get to the next song already, turtledoves aren’t even an existing species anymore—don’t remind him of such a tragedy.
Mephistopheles (Basically all of them)
Mephistopheles isn’t a Christmas demon, he only tolerates it for Diavolo’s sake but he’ll be damned if a song plays around him and Diavolo isn’t there. He’ll contact whoever he needs to to change the music immediately.
Barbatos (Dominic the donkey)
He hates it because he believes it’s rather stupid but also because it cracks Diavolo up so Diavolo plays it a few times a day to amuse himself and Barb is really sick of hearing it.
Diavolo
He loves all of them, even the damn chipmunk song. Even the Christmas gospel doesn’t really bother him but he doesn’t pay as much attention to it as he does humming along to the other songs. He does laugh when he hears Satan’s name in God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, so he actually likes that one.
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velvetvexations · 6 months ago
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I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?
Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao
strangely people understand that when it's about trans women
just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.
they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!
Nazi imagery anon here
These are the pics I was referring to.
As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(
yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath
as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first
You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing
they aren't even trying
It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-
Tumblr...is really bad.
I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.
exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything
So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point
rambling is okay anon <3
„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”
i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!
that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first
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iamnmbr3 · 4 months ago
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Hey! I remember a while ago you said you were working on a sort of funny sort of serious drarry letter writing fic or something like that? Are you still writing it and if so could we see a little bit of it?
Hi anon! I am in fact still working on that fic. The premise is that basically a few years after the war Harry, who hasn't seen Draco since the trials, gets annoyed with Rita Skeeter asking him questions about whether he spoke at Draco's trial because there was some secret enemies-to-lovers thing going on and sarcastically agrees...not thinking about the fact that sarcasm doesn't translate well in print (especially when Rita has NO incentive to explain the context). Draco owls him about it and they start writing back and forth. Just a fun little cracky scenario I entertained myself with. I am still working on it though I've never published a fic before and idk if I'll actually post this.
If you like you can see a tiny excerpt from towards the beginning below the cut. Tho obviously it's still in draft form and in order to publish I'd need a beta to help me remove any egregious americanisms since I learned American English and also to figure out how to get it to format properly on AO3.
Potter,
Thank you for your reply. 
Frankly I am shocked that the quote is genuine. I had assumed it entirely fabricated or misreported by an unreliable secondary source. Do you mean to tell me you actually answered a question from Rita Skeeter of all people with the words “Yeah, that’s right. Everyone who thought we hated each other in school just couldn’t recognize the obvious romantic tension”? You actually said that? To Rita Skeeter. 
You needn’t worry about forcing the Prophet to issue a retraction on my account. As I said, it’s not my (less than sterling) reputation that’s being besmirched by this story. I am happy to let the story die on its own if you are. (Personally, I vastly prefer this coverage to the last time I was of interest to the press.). Do whatever you think is best. 
For your convenience I have attached a blank scroll since clearly you must be desperately short on stationary. Why else would anyone send back a response written on the back of the original message?
Sincerely, 
D. M.
P.S. It was five years, not six. 
***
Yes. I really said it. No “unreliable secondary source” (like you in fourth year you mean?) necessary. I was being sarcastic! It’s not my fault she left out the context! I probably should've seen it coming, but what was I supposed to do? Hermione made me promise not to hex any more reporters. 
I have a question though. If  you didn’t think the quote was real and you don’t want me to stop the rumors, why did you write to me in the first place?  
By the way, I forgot to say in the last letter. Tell your mum sorry about the reporters outside the Manor. Has she considered using the Fidelius Charm to hide the location? Or the location of your flat, for that matter. That’s what I do to keep them away from my house. 
Also, Hermione says wasting paper is bad. There is plenty of room on the back of this scroll so I don’t see why I shouldn’t use it.  
Harry 
P.S. Five years? So is nose breaking supposed to be a secret Pureblood friendship ritual or something? 
***
Potter,
One does not write letters on the back of other correspondence. It is simply not the done thing. Furthermore, as we can use magic, we can simply replicate an existing piece of paper indefinitely, thus preventing waste. The need to conserve and recycle paper is a purely muggle concept, though an ingenious one. I still don’t really understand how they can turn certain used materials into new objects without magic, though my neighbors have tried to explain it to me. 
Yes, just like me in fourth year (something I hope you know is included on the long list of things I deeply and sincerely regret about my past).
If you must know, I wrote to you because I thought you might suspect I’d planted the story for my own purposes. Clearly I vastly overestimated your ability to handle reporters. For future reference, silence is a wonderful way to prevent unfortunate quotes from appearing in print. 
Our previous correspondence two years ago made it clear to me you wouldn’t welcome further contact (I don’t mean to accuse you; I wouldn’t have wanted to associate with me either) but I didn’t think you would believe me if I simply denied it directly, and I was eager to avoid the impression that I would repay you for your forbearance with the same petty duplicity you had come to expect from me. I apologize if I’ve done the wrong thing. 
Unfortunately, both my mother and I are forbidden from concealing our residences with the Fidelius Charm until our respective five year Ministry-ordered probationary periods have expired. 
I will pass along your apologies next time I see her, though they are hardly necessary. 
Yours,
DM
P.S. I only meant that the incident on the train was about more than misguided feelings of rivalry. I blamed you (unfairly) for my father’s imprisonment and for my family’s sudden fall from grace both in mainstream wizarding society and among the ranks of the Death Eaters, and for the task that subsequently fell on me as a result of my father’s failure. It was my first true experience with any kind of hardship and I handled it extremely poorly. A better person would have questioned the ideologies and actions that led them to that point, but instead I sank further into the darkness that will now overshadow the rest of my life.
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bangchanplzbangme · 4 days ago
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hello!!! request idea where reader x minho drunkenly sleep together featuring a very jealous chan??? <3
just a mistake
warnings: cheating, drunk sex, jealousy, hate sex.
a/n: omg anon!!! This is amazing. I’m in awe of what your brain just cooked up for me. Thank you! Please send me as many requests as you want!
if you like this please check out my masterlist
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You always found him hot. With his hands, I don’t give a fuck attitude and his gorgeous face, you’d be blind not to. Only problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your boyfriends best friend.
Bangchan was the most perfect man in existence. Handsome, sexy, cute, muscled, caring, and everything millions of girls wanted. But you couldn’t shake the attraction you felt for his best friend. Thinly veiled attraction disguised as rivalry and disgust. You knew Minho found you hot. The way he stared at you said it all. But you never expected him to act on it.
liquid courage. It really was like that. After rounds after rounds of shots, you were so out of it. All you knew was, Minho was sitting right next to you, and your boyfriend was at home. You have no idea what finally snapped the tension. Next thing you knew, he was throwing you into a room in jisungs house. Voices in your head whispered. This wasn’t right, cheating on your amazing boyfriend was a horrible thing to do to such an amazing man. But the devil on your shoulder whispered to forget him. And that’s what you did.
Minho pinned you down and pounded you into the mattress all night. Broken whines and moans echoes through the room like a reminder of the sins committed. You both fell asleep in the guest room, without locking the door. Anyone could walk in at anytime, but both of you were too drunk and tired to care.
early in the morning bangchan stormed in, fuming once he saw his best friend and the love of his life in bed together. “I trusted both of you and this is how you repay me?” You both sit up like deer in headlights. “ Chan it was a mistake!!” “A mistake? Sleeping with Minho?” You immediately start apologizing and saying sorry to Chan while Minho just sits there. “You want me to forgive you? Fine. But only on one condition”. While you both are talking, Minho tries to quietly slip out. “ where are you going Minho? You aren’t off the hook” “hyung, I know what this looks like, and whatever you’re thinking, you’re probably pretty close. But it was mostly my fault. So let her off easier.” he sits Minho down on a chair and tells him not to move even a little bit. He then climbs into bed with you.
“You are gonna watch how good I make my girl feel, yeah? And you’re gonna sit there wishing it was still you” with that, he roughly enters you. No warning, no care. Your brain starts to melt into a puddle, and you moan bangchans name, and cry into the pillow. He fucks you like he wants to erase what Minho did from your mind. “Am I better than him baby?” You let out a broken man and nod frantically. Minho watches and observes everything. You see stars as u orgasm, and everything fades away. As you fall asleep, he takes care of you, and as he passes Minho he whispers, “ if you wanted some, you could’ve asked mate”
tag list: @m-325
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oacest · 9 months ago
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My thoughts on the audio are that I genuinely cannot come up with a sane explanation. I don't think Liam was necessarily in the studio but he has to be talking about him, right? Like IDK there was some visual effect or whatever, literally who else could be the cunt Noel doesn't want to see. Beyond which I am not a proper scholar so please let me know if I'm way off base but I have an extended divorce theory that goes:
2009: Breakup, they're both big mad for a minute
201?-2012: They are texting and like, sending their kids to the same school. possibly the most normal they've ever been.
2013-2015: Liam blows his entire life up and is extremely sad about the consequences of his own actions. I saw actual video footage of Noel saying that he's shocked beady eye broke up and he's actually sweet about it and tells Liam not to give up? who is this man. anyway while Liam will later claim Noel wasn't there for him during the divorce but as a general rule they're much nicer about each other when they're divorcing other people. this is where I become extremely conspiratorial because at some point they had to get the documentary off the ground and a second, more personal breakup is clearly going down around this time. I believe in their ability to deeply wound each other by playing cryptic telephone through the press but I think it genuinely makes more sense if they were actually talking, perhaps about a potential reunion.
2016-2020: supersonic documentary and also (coincidentally?) the apocalypse. Liam launches his solo career, Noel hates it and is pretty relentlessly mean about it and about Liam more generally. we are gearing up for the kind of tweeting/podcast commenting where you call your brother your ex-wife. I think this is also when Noel decides to drag Molly into it for some reason. Liam says publicly that he thinks Noel was waiting for him to hit rock bottom so he could be magnanimous about saving him. whether he thinks this because of something concrete noel did or said or because he's liam is a mystery. the Anais incident goes down, the vogue article comes out. we are never ever getting back together for real this time. noel says a bunch of normal and well adjusted stuff about how he wants Liam to die in a self driving car crash with Donald Trump and seeing his face makes him want to shoot up a MacDonalds.
2020-2022: the pandemic saves oasis. I'm serious. they're both stuck sitting at home with nothing to distract them from themselves and think of brighter days. apparently being trapped in a house with noel is genuinely so unbearable that Sara calls it quits (in the matter of Sara v. Noel I'm on her side). presumably this was cause for at least some self reflection. divorce is a lonely and difficult experience, sara and liam seem to legit hate each other in a way that would be a barrier to reconciliation (in the matter of Sara v. Liam I am also on her side but less so bcs she didn't get trapped in a house with him). at the same time Liam pulls off Knebworth 2022, demonstrating he can handle big events without headcasing (and without noel, and he will be doing those big events solo or otherwise). at this point I genuinely think it was just a matter of time before we were back, baybeee! let's hope they can keep it together.
bro your brain is so huge and deeply wrinkled, profoundly agree with all of this. why you on anon when your opinions are so correct and you could be sharing them with us directly tbh 👀.
but yeah, 100% covid saved oasis lmao. noel's divorce saved oasis. noel's miserable midlife crisis (ongoing) saved oasis 🥰🥰🥰. and it juuuuuust really seems like all those insane highs and lows that went on publicly in the media between them over the years probably, or at least quite possibly, had irl personal catalysts rather than just a general holdover of ill will from the 2000s. there are so many random little times one or both of them casually mentioned they were in contact, and any one of those instances can be disregarded, but when considered in retrospect from a collective standpoint..... AWFULLY DAMNING!!!
lots more to say about all of this actually, every point you've made is legit af and could be expounded upon for a hundred years, but it's midnight and im coming down with a flu (punishment for some kind of hubris im sure), so. thank you for all of this and goodnight 🙏
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divatakesontruth · 7 months ago
Text
Why do people teach this?
First of all I’m not a teacher or anything like that, I’m simply someone who wishes to share her experience
Now there was something Sri sarvapriyananda said
It’s a story so I’ll say it.
There was a town behind a wall, the town was drowning in poverty, there was no color in the world , everyone was so sad and were all round just suffering , and that was all they ever knew ; they didn’t know anything like joy existed.
One day three men decided to look over the wall, and they found a beautiful paradise, green, healthy , happy. It was basically heaven on earth . They were so happy to have found it
The three of them made one choice each
One decided to climb over the wall and live in that paradise.
One decided to go tell others of this beautiful paradise so that they too may find joy
While the last one decided to keep living in the old town but from a completely different point of view. The world he thought he knew was not so limited anymore and he found peace in that and that was enough for him.
All of us are just like those three men trying to look over the wall and see (the true nature of our being )
This seeming plot line doesn’t cease when you awaken , no it’s still very much here
Many awakened people can decide to live knowing they’re not a person but however still continue to live in this seemingly wicked world
Some may decide to spread the news (like Ruper spira, Sri sarvapriyananda, Ramana Maharshi, being is it, @ko-existing @i-amyou @clochettesworld etc and all the people we seemingly learn from)
While some can decide to live in paradise
It doesn’t matter as long as Self has been revealed then , Nothing can be wrong
Why? Cause what determines wrong and right? Self is all that is and whatever seemingly appears is an energetic expression of this radiance.
Rupert spira has mentioned a few times that once you take these pointers and focus on the light of awareness, when Self shines through, you can go back to experiencing the world but now the way you seemingly experience it will change.
First of all you would regard everything as an appearance and the intensity with which life held you, will no longer be there .
A particular anon has been spamming my inbox insulting me and saying I copy being is it and koda . Haha I learnt from both of them so if there are similarities they are not intentional. You were curious about a lot of things and I hoped to have answer them here , also if you really are so intelligent (as you said one time) why bother sending things like that hm? If you know it’s all not real why do you send such hate for seeming people that are all one with you ? Don’t you regard your seeming intellectual dominance as another farce created by the mind?
Anyways if you keep sending asks, i could keep reading them if that will please you so but I won’t acknowledge you anymore
For everyone else , Notice
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