#WHILE I PLAY THEIR SOUNDTRACK OVER AND OVER AGAIN

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HIT ‘EM UP! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: SMUT BELOW. GO TOUCH GRASS AFTER YOU READ THIS. LOVE UUUU!! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

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EIGHTEEN: POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME PT. 2.

When you leave Gojo and Geto stunned in your wake as you leave the pool table, you start to rethink your decisions and “big talk”.

Gone is the bubbly, bold feeling you felt that the whiskey and tequila helped you reach. You felt like you could fly with the liquor in you. But now in replacement of that false confidence is a feeling close to dread and anxiety that sobers you immediately. The throng of sweaty bodies and boots you try to walk between makes it even worse.

There are too many people. Too much noise. You’re becoming overstimulated. But…you look back at the place you left Geto and Gojo standing by the pool table, but a person on the dance floor is standing in your line of view. However, you know that they are there, watching. Waiting for you to act on your big talk.

So you turn around and look for the first hot guy you see. You find him standing with his boys by the stage, laughing into his beer. He is big and husky with a thick beard, tattoos, and pretty eyes. Handsome enough. You stand a foot away from him, mustering up the courage to catch his attention.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft and wobbly. Your voice is carried away by the upbeat guitars playing.

You say it again, louder: “Hey!” He finally turns to look at you and his eyes do a one scan over your body. Lust and interest immediately appears within them. You aren’t sure if you like or dislike it.

“Wanna dance?” You ask, still riding on some of the liquid confidence. Wordlessly, the man nods and offers one hand while holding his beer in the other.

You take it and drag him away from his friends who watch on in shock and envy. You find a place in the middle of floor surrounded by other people twirling, moving, and stomping their boots. Not even thinking about it, you place your hands on the man’s shoulders and begin to move to the beat, barely moving your hips but just swaying. You can’t bring yourself to do much else. But your dance partner seems to enjoy it either way.

A big, happy grin stretches across his face as one hand finds your waist. “God, you are fine,” he laughs. “Where the fuck you come from, honey? Heaven?”

You can smell the beer on his breath and instantly recoil. Suddenly, you don’t want to dance with him anymore. His big, beefy arm snakes around your waist and holds you close to him, pulling you flush against his body. “Whoa,” you say, your pulse picking up as your fight or flight kicks in. “What are you—“

“You here with somebody?” he whispers. “What are you doin’ after this tonight?” His hand travels down to your ass, squeezing it in your jeans. You think of a way to tell him to fuck off without causing a scene, but the sight of familiar blue eyes behind some shades and silvery white hair under a cowboy hat behind him stop you short.

The man senses someone standing behind him and turns, finding Gojo there with a smile on his face. “Not goin’ home with you,” he answers for you. “Sorry, pal, but she’s with me.”

You feel another warm presence behind you and turn to face the big chest of Geto Suguru. His brown eyes stare unwaveringly into the ones of the man with his hand still gripping your butt. “Us, actually,” he adds and he doesn’t sound like he wants that statement to be challenged.

But the man doesn’t read the room, probably too drunk to do so or realize who the fuck he’s messing with. “Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs and grips you to him, a sloppy smirk on his face. “Anyways–”

Gojo is suddenly beside Geto and forcefully turns the man around by his shoulder. “Didn’t you hear us?” he says, his smile not so nice anymore. It is sharp and tense, daring his opponent to make a move. “We said she’s with us. Now, I suggest you take this loss like a man instead of reachin’ for that piece in your pocket.”

Your eyes flick down to the man’s hand, finding the one that was on your behind now at his holster. Gojo peers at the man over his shades. “Trust me: you don’t want this smoke. Not with us.” He takes off his hat as does Geto, giving the man a view of their recognizable faces.

The man’s angered expression fades, replaced with astonishment and fear. “Shit,” he exhales. “Y-You’re…you’re G–”

“Geto & Gojo, the Gunslingers, in the flesh,” Gojo interrupts, his grin only widening. “I told you: you don’t want this. Just put that tail between your legs and leave so we won’t have no problems.” The man looks like he wants to protest or start shooting, but you can see the way he’s shivering. “Leave,” Geto demands, his voice deep and harsh. “Now.”

Quickly, the man scrambles off and disappears in the crowd. You almost feel bad for him, but he shouldn’t have gotten handsy. “Thanks,” you weakly say, barely looking at the duo. Ghetto shrugs like it isn’t a big deal. “Don’t mention it. Looked like you could’ve used some help with him…not that you couldn’t handle him yourself.”

“Yeah,” you dumbly reply, suddenly wanting to lay down. “U-Um…thanks again.” You begin to walk off on wobbly knees, not sure where you’re going in a sea of dancing people, but Gojo’s hand on your wrist stops you. “Where you goin’?” he asks, looking confused. “I thought we had a dance.”

You blink at him, puzzled. “What?” you ask. “B-But I thought you two didn’t—“

“That was before we realized how horny these guys are in here,” Gojo chuckles. “Can’t let you get scooped up by another horn dog, especially before you get your reward.”

He circles around your back while you face Geto and his goddamn, big ass chest that you can see yourself biting, licking, and snuggling against late at night. Maybe you are drunk. “He's right. You won fair and square, so how can we deny you your prize?” A smirk plays on his lips as he puffs on a new cigarette, the smoke curling out of his nostrils.

Suddenly, you can’t think straight. Your head feels fuzzy and heavy, especially when Gojo leans in towards your ear. You feel yourself sweat with him so close to you. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere till we get that dance, darlin’,” he whispers. And it sounds like a promise. He then leans away and smiles, kind and playful. “C’mon,” he coos, reaching his hand out for you.

The band’s music is lively still, a guitar’s strings mingling with an upbeat piano and fiddle. Without thinking, you take Gojo’s hand and he turns you to face him. “There we go!” he laughs. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He begins to move his feet to the music, albeit a little messily because of the booze. You giggle, following his movements while Geto stands behind you. He isn’t close enough to box you between him and Gojo, but you can still feel the heat radiating off of his body. “Try not to trip, Satoru,” he teases. “You know you’ve got two left feet.”

Gojo scowls at his partner as he turns you around to face the front where the stage is. “Says you, bitch!” he retorts and does his best to follow the moves of the dance floor that has now turned into a line dance section.

You turn to Geto on your left and watch him follow the movements, hands clapping and body moving in time with everyone else. “I didn’t know you could dance, Suguru!” you giggle among the music.

His eyes, gleaming with mirth, stare into yours under his hat. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, little lady,” he replies, his voice finding your ears. The petname strokes something inside of you that you can’t identify or understand right now. But you’re having too much fun to care.

When Geto takes your hand and pulls you to him like the dance calls for, the fun only increases. He twirls and spins you to and fro, making you laugh harder than you ever have before. You feel dizzy and giddy, your face clammy with sweat and drunk off of your enjoyment.

Suddenly, Gojo pops up on your left and pouts at Geto. “Hey, stop stealin’ her away,” he complains. “I wanna dance with her too!” He is suddenly standing behind you, his hands in both of yours. Your tongue feels too heavy to protest. Plus…you like it. Geto rolls his eyes as he puffs on his cigarette. “You big baby. Good thing the song is slowin’ down.”

And it is. The upbeat tempo has taken more of a softer tone as the guitar strums along to a man singing above his woman wearing some nice Levi jeans. The woman stands beside him, crooning into the mic with him. You begin to unconsciously sway to the beat, feeling relaxed. Geto smiles at you. “I take it you like this song?” he asks, humor in his eyes.

You nod though you don’t know it. He takes a step forward while Geto stays posted behind you. While both are at a respectful distance, you still feel boxed in between them like they are two sexy cells walls and you’re a prisoner. “Wait, wait,” you protest though they haven’t done much of anything yet. “I-I don’t know how to…slow dance.”

The laughs that leave their lips are soft and sexy, making heat pool in your stomach. “That ain’t no problem,” Gojo says. “Just sway with us.” He gently places his hands on your hips and moves you side to side. Geto does the same, swaying, and you do your best to follow him and Gojo. You slowly shuffle your feet, matching their tempo. Soon, you’re all like matching ships swaying side to side on the ocean.

“Juuust like that, little miss,” Gojo coaxes. “See? You’re a natural!” You inwardly smile at the praise and encouragement despite how stiff you feel. You can feel Gojo’s chest against the back of your head with how tall he is. Geto ain’t that much better. You have to crane your neck to look up at him as his big hands encircle your waist.

He presses closer to you, engulfing you in his scent. “Are my hands okay here?” he softly asks, his voice in your ear. You jerkingly nod, your body suddenly not able to function properly. You want to put your hands on him or Gojo, but your arms feel like noodles.

You don’t look up at Geto, too afraid that if you do, you’ll melt, spontaneously combust, or turn to stone. “Y’know, that was some trick ya did earlier with my cigarette,” he whispers. “You ever shotgun before?”

You feel yourself shudder at the gruffness in his tone. “No,” you reply, your voice small and soft. Gojo leans in close, having listened to the whole conversation. “Want him to show you?” he whispers, his voice like silk against your ear. “You just part those lips and he’ll blow smoke in. We do it all the time.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol or the intoxicating heat you feel between you, but you agree and nod your head. Geto wastes no time hollowing his cheeks to inhale the smoke before leaning in towards your mouth. He only leaves a few inches of space between your lips as he blows a steady stream into your mouth.

Your eyes instinctively close as the smoke stings them while your lips form a small O. A small hum leaves your lips as the smoke invades your senses. “Nice, right?” Gojo chuckles, his hands still on your hips. “I’m feelin’ kinda jealous though.” Geto passes the cig to him and you turn your head to face him now. “You want another one?” he purrs. “Ask nicely.”

You know you’re walking through some forbidden territory here. You know that you’re teetering on a tightrope. But the forbidden fruit has been bitten and you can’t deny how good it tastes. “P-Please,” you weakly say.

Gojo’s smile fades as he inhales the smoke and bends his knees slightly to meet you. He leans in and blows the smoke into your waiting mouth, his pink lips just inches from yours. From behind you, Geto stands so rigidly behind you that you almost think he’s frozen, but his hand on your forearms steady you as you stare up into Gojo’s handsome face. You want to see his eyes.

Unthinkingly, you slowly slide his sunglasses off of his face, revealing his ocean-blue eyes to you. “Y/N,” he exhales, his name sounding so forbidden coming from his lips. Those sapphire eyes flicker down to your mouth, causing his Adam’s Apple to bob. You don’t know who leaned in first, but suddenly, you’re kissing.

This kiss is passionate and soft like your first one in the hot springs, but also eager and yearning. His lips move against yours like a dance, pushing and pulling, letting you lead and then taking the lead for himself. He softly moans against your mouth, his hands sliding over your hips but never going any further than that. You almost wish he would.

When you pull away, Gojo stares at you as if you’re from another planet, his cheeks flushed and lips slightly plump from the stimulation. His eyes flick upward somewhat to Geto and it’s enough to make you realize that he’s still there. You turn and lock your arm back around his head, pulling him between the nook of your neck and shoulder. “You too,” you whisper and press your lips to his.

Geto doesn’t stop you or push you away. In fact, he welcomes the kiss, his lips moving just as easily against yours like water. You can taste the ashy nicotine and whiskey on his tongue. You never knew both could be aphrodisiacs to you, but they are now. You can’t get enough of his taste, your tongue sliding against his. His hands roam your stomach while Gojo’s lips caress your neck, soft sighs and moans traveling between you. It is magic. This is magic.

Suddenly, Geto abruptly pulls away, panting heavily. He shares another look with Gojo before his jaw tightens and he stubs his cigarette out between his fingers. “C’mon,” he says and takes your hand. He begins to lead you away from the dance floor with Gojo following close behind, his hand protectively on your back.

Your feet move on their own, the world slightly off kilter from the kiss. “Where are we goin’?” you ask above the music. Geto barely turns to you. “Somewhere that’s not here,” he replies, his voice sounding gruff and thick, like it’s taking everything in him to not jump you right here.

You flush, realizing that you all just made out on the dance floor in front of everyone…and you liked it. What the hell is going to happen once they get you alone? You can only find out what.

So you let the duo lead you out of the back exit of the barn into the backwoods where the drinkers drink, the smokers smoke, and the couples dry hump and make love in the woods. “Not here,” Gojo says. “Down the road. Let’s keep goin’.”

Geto guides you down the dirt road away from the barn. You follow him, barely noticing when the sounds of the party fade away and all that fills the air are the sound of crickets and a lone hooting owl. You suddenly find yourself at a lake, the body of water still and dark.

You come to a lake house down the road that Geto easily kicks open. The door’s hinges loosen and he opens it to reveal a relatively clean, wooden living room with a sofa, an old table, and farming tools stern about the floor. You have no idea whose lake house this is, but you find that you don’t care.

“Inside,” Gojo whispers, gripping your hand as he guides you into the dark lake house. The room smells dainty of lake water and dust. The only light is of the moon cutting into two small windows overlooking the lake. The silvery light illuminates the men before you, highlighting the lust in their eyes. Despite that, neither one of them make a move.

“You okay?” Geto asks, concern evident in his silky voice.

Despite the twirl of anxiety in your stomach, you nod. They stand at arm’s length, giving you the space to leave if you want. But you don’t.

“Tell us you want this,” Gojo whispers, his voice hoarse and wanton. Your body yearns to be touched and grabbed. You want to be held in their arms. So you give in to temptation and alcohol. “Yes,” you softly reply. “I want this.”

Immediately, the two close in on you in the darkness and give you exactly what you want. Gojo stands in front of you and cups your face in his hands to kiss you while Geto stands behind you, his fingers and lips all over your skin.

Your kiss with Gojo is hungry and eager, both of you pulling off each other’s hats to tangle your fingers in each other’s hair. He pulls away, softly laughing at you. “You’re so respondent, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Mmm, you really must want this.”

He ain’t fronting though. He wants this just as much as you do. You can tell from the way his fingers glide down your ass and his lips move back to connect with yours in a hasty, panty kiss.

“Stop hoggin’ her, Satoru,” Geto impatiently growls from behind you. “You need to be nice and share.” Gojo smirks at his partner. “But she seems like she enjoys my fingers,” he replies. “And my mouth.”

His tongue glides against your suddenly, making you taste the whiskey off of his tastebuds. He presses his big body into yours, your thighs clamping around one of his legs wedged between them. There, you feel his bulge pressing into your pelvis. You gasp at the feeling, especially when it’s multiplied by two. You feel Geto’s hard-on press into your backside as his big hands glide up to grope your tits.

Gojo pulls away to watch his partner’s sneaky fingers play with the buttons on your flannel. “You mind if we share, baby?” he whispers. “Geto is a tit man too, if you remember.” You do. You remember that starry night when you were bitten, feeling Geto’s big, calloused hands and tongue caressing your hard nipples.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to feel it again from both of them. “Go ahead,” you whisper. “Taste me.” You push your chest into Geto’s hands, shivering at the soft groan that escapes him. Slowly, as if to give you time to stop him, he buttons your top until your balconette bra is revealed to them.

You take it upon yourself to reach behind you to unhook it, fumbling somewhat because of the alcohol fog. Geto helps you, freeing your breasts from the cups. The men stare at your tits for a moment, hypnotized by the brown areolas and how heavy your hanging fruit seems. Wordlessly, Gojo takes your hand and leads you to the ratty couch, your bra ending up somewhere on the floor.

Geto joins him on the couch and the two sit together while you stand before them, your breasts in their faces. Together, they reach for you and latch their mouths around each of your brown mountain peaks of arousal while their hands explore your body. You tilt your head back, melting from their hot breath and wet tongues caressing your nipples.

“Fuck, they’re beautiful,” Geto murmurs. “You’re absolutely perfect, Y/N, shit.” He sounds as if he can hardly believe it.

It doesn’t take long for your arousal to reach its peak. You feel hot and tingly all over. Your heart races. Your mind is fogged. And mostly noticeably and annoyingly, your pussy is clenching and soaking your panties. The soft moans and lewd tongue flicks filling the air just about finish you off. You want more of them.

Gently, you pull yourself away from the Gunslingers and smile at their bewildered expressions. You kneel down before them, relishing the way they follow your every move until you’re on your knees for them. A slow smirk slithers across Gojo’s face. “Ya want somethin’ else, darlin’?” he asks in the darkness. “Give me your words.”

Your greedy eyes tick down to their hardened dicks beneath their slacks, pushing against the fabric. “I want you both in my mouth,” you boldly answer. The duo is silent for a moment, shook by your response.

“Both?” they ask, shocked by your request. Gojo shrugs, looking down for it. “Well, if it’s what you want…” He unbuckles his pants first and then Geto follows suit, both of them loosening their belts and unbuttoning their flies.

You bite your lip in anticipation for what’s to come. When their cocks finally spring from their underwear, you gape at them. They’re both big, thick, and throbbing for you. While Gojo is a bit thicker and his pubics are shaven like his toned stomach, Geto has a happy trail and his cock is longe with a hook that makes it lean toward his tummy.

You haven’t seen a cock in so long…let alone two! “So pretty,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself. The duo softly chuckle. “Why, thank you,” Gojo chuckles. “That’s the first I’ve heard. Damn, you really must be drunk.”

Ignoring him, you immediately reach for them and wrap your hand around each. Both cocks throb in response to your hands making contact with them. “Jesus, Y/N,” Geto hisses, swallowing harshly. “Give a guy time to prepare, huh?”

“I’m sorry…did I hurt you?” You go to take your hand away, but he stops you, his tone growing softer. “No, no, darlin’, you misunderstood me. Your hand just felt too fuckin’ good and I’m…sensitive.” You can feel him tense in your hold, his thighs clenched. Are you really making him feel that good?

Gojo cackles beside him, his sunglasses sliding down his nose and revealing his sapphire blue eyes. “You can’t handle it,” he sing-songs. “Go ahead, baby, and give him more of that soft, pretty hand. You can handle two, can’tcha?” Oh, yes…yes, you can. You show them just how by spitting copious amounts of spit on each cock and stroking their shafts up and down, getting used to the feel of them.

You watch the men from beneath your lashes, relishing the way they moan, sigh, and hum from your ministrations. It feels so intoxicating. You feel so powerful making such intimidating men melt under your little hands. You decide to take things further and lick up Gojo’s cock, sucking lightly on the bulbous, pink head.

“Fuck,” he moans to the ceiling, the sound going straight to your pussy. Geto chuckles beside him, albeit breathless from your stroking. “Now who can’t handle it?”

Gojo ignores him, his full attention on you. “Shit, baby,” he sighs. “Y’know, your hand is good an’ all, but I need to feel that pretty mouth too.” He bites his perfect, pink bottom lip, putty in your hands. “Please,” he begs, the moonlight highlighting the yearning in his eyes. “Can you put me in your mouth, doll?”

You’ve never seen the gunslinger look so desperate. So pathetic. It’s so sexy. “Since you asked so nicely…” You wrap your lips around him once more, but you go deeper, bobbing your head up and down his cock. He feels so warm in your mouth and his pre-cum coats your tongue.

“God!” he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. “That’s so fuckin’ good.”

Geto hums in agreement as he watches you work your mouth up and down his partner's dick. “It certainly is,” he agrees. “I’m almost inclined to steal her from you.” You suddenly pop off of Geto’s cock and place your mouth around Geto this time. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, titling his thick neck back. His coal eyes roll back in pleasure, making pleasure and power surge through you.

You switch between the two for a while, giving them each equal amounts of attention. When you suck one, you stroke the other, moving in tandem with your own speed and tempo. “Such a good girl takin’ two dicks at the same time,” Gojo coos. “You like all this attention, don’t you?”

You’re shocked that you even respond, your mouth wrapped around Gojo’s thick cock. “Mmm-ph!” you mumble. You’re even more shocked at how much you love giving them head. Such different sizes. Such different shapes. Such different flavors. Both of them big and hard. All for you.

Gojo wraps your hair around his fist, giving you a tug that makes your pussy throb. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, darlin’. Just keep suckin’.” You do just that, taking him deeper down your throat. His moans are damn near slutty and desperate as you give him throat, your saliva slipping down his balls. “Yes, like that, good girl!”

You do the same thing to Geto too, stroking his cock with your throat. He doesn’t even move as you do it though you can tell he is desperate from the way his thighs clench under your hands. “Goddamn, this mouth,” he groans, shuddering under your touch. You up your speed, bobbing faster and deeper, taking him down your throat despite the sting of your eyes and the ache in your jaw.

When Geto’s moans grow loud, you know that he’s close. “Fuck, baby, stop,” he pants. “I’m about to cum!” He grabs you, forcing you to lift your head. Gojo leans over and wipes the spit from your mouth. “Mmm, me too,” he sighs, fisting his cock in replacement of yours. “You need a break, little lady. I bet those knees are achin’.”

They are, but you barely paid attention. You were too busy enjoying sucking the Gunslingers’ dicks to notice. Gojo suddenly scoots over and crooks his finger at you in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Just come over here,” he coaxes you. Geto helps you off of the floor on your wobbly legs and brings you closer to the couch. Despite the darkness, you see the lust sparkling in them. “Bend over,” he demands and you do so like a puppet on some strings.

Once you’re on all fours between the duo, Geto slides your shorts down without even unzipping them, revealing your ass to them. “God, look at this ass,” he growls, taking a palmful of one of your cheeks. “I’ve been starin’ at it all night.” His fingers feel good massaging the flesh, making you moan.

Gojo ogles at your behind too, still stroking himself. “Luckily, we get it all to ourselves now.” Suddenly, he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. They twinkle and gleam at you. “Do me a favor, baby: suck my cock while Sugu eats you out, okay? Make me feel good while he makes you feel good.”

It may be the alcohol or the arousal, but that idea sounds perfect to you. You lay your head in Gojo’s lap where he feeds you his cock while Geto slides your panties to the side. “Fuck,” he sighs at the sight of your swollen, wet pussy. His tongue suddenly slides against your folds, making you moan around Gojo’s cock. “That’s a good girl,” he moans, his hand in your hair. “How’s she taste, Sugu?”

If the sloppy sounds of Geto’s tongue exploring your pussy isn’t an answer, his delighted moans are. Each moan sends vibrations throughout your cunt, making you shudder and quake against his mouth. You can’t help but whine around Gojo’s cock at the magical feelings the long-haired outlaw gives you. Even his fingers feel good. He uses two of them to rub your clit while his tongue gently probes your hole, exploring the ins and outs of you.

A symphony of moans and lewd, wet sounds drift through the dank, damp air of the lakehouse. The distant sounds of crickets and the rustling of trees make this feel almost romantic. There is no one but you and them, and that feels damn good.

You can feel that knot in your core tightening, threatening to snap the more Geto eats you out. You pop off of Gojo’s cock, panting heavily. “Sugu,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum soon!”

You’re so drunk off of this feeling that you barely realize that you used Geto’s petname. He groans into your pussy and pulls away, your juices shining off of his lips. “Not yet,” he growls. “I want you to cum with me.”

Suddenly, you feel his long cock settling between your asscheeks. You gasp as he begins to rut against your ass, his cock sliding up and down between the soft cheeks that he massages and grabs to his liking.

“Me too,” Gojo moans. “Tell us where you want our loads, baby. On that face? Or those tits? Maybe that ass? Either way, they’re bothin’ on this body of yours.”

That idea also sounds perfect. Everything with them is. “Anywhere,” you desperately whine. “Just not inside.”

Gojo chortles, happy with your compliance. “Anythin’ you want,” Geto answers, tapping his dick against your asscheeks. “Now be a good girl and keep suckin’ on that dick.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You keep throating Gojo’s cock like it’s your profession, leading him to fuck your mouth in time with Geto’s thrusts. You feel like you’re being fucked from both ends, used for their pleasure…and you love it. The sounds of sex increase as you all get closer to your ends, the two men speeding up their thrusts to chase their highs. Geto rubs your clit while Gojo tugs on your nipples, stimulating you from both ends.

You finally can’t take it anymore. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth opens on a series of moans. “I’m gonna cum!” you warn them, your voice high-pitched and desperate. Gojo silences you with his cock and forces you to look up at him. “Look at me,” he demands. “Don’t you dare look away from me. Look at what you fuckin’ do to me.”

You do as he says even as Geto moans and ruts your ass like an animal behind you, getting closer and closer and closer…. Finally, with two matching moans of release, the duo finally release onto your body. Gojo’s perfect muscles clench as he fists his cock, shooting cum into your mouth while Geto explodes on your ass. You feel warmth splatter across your cheeks, back, and throat, coating you in them.

When you finally cum, you feel like you’re soaring above the clouds with them in tow, coating Geto’s fingers in your juices. It is a wonderful, amazing, intoxicating feeling that makes your toes curl and your head spin….but when you finally come down from the high of your orgasm, you come down hard.

You don’t hear the duo’s pillow talk or talks of being “cummed out” despite them being right there. They feel far away from you suddenly and you’re all alone. Now, reality hits and so does the regret.

‘What the fuck have I done?’ you think. Noticing your sudden change in demeanor, Geto gently touches your back and strokes it. “Y/N?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly jump and turn around to look at him, your eyes blurred with tears. “I…I…” You can’t speak, your shame and guilt too overwhelming.

Geto’s coal eyes grown concerned. “Y/N?” he questions, worry laced in his tone. “Honey, talk to us.” He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away from his touch, jumping off of the couch. The duo stare up at you in confusion, wondering what the hell has gotten into you. “I-I have to go,” you stammer. “I need to…need to get out of here!”

You are suddenly gasping as the tears threaten to push past your eyes, you throat tight like you just dry swallowed a pill. The walls are closing in. Quickly, you reach for your clothes, searching throughout the dark room for your bra.

“Wait, hang on a second,” Gojo protests. “Where are you goin’?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even get dressed before charging for the door, yanking it open, and racing out of the lakehouse. “Wait, wait!” Geto calls. “Y/N, hang on! Don’t leave!”

You don’t turn around to hear him out, instead getting dressed as you stumble down the road. You smell of the two men, the taste of cock on your tongue and the feeling of Geto’s cum dripping off your ass. You don’t feel sexy like you did before. You feel dirty.

That feeling only grows along with your regret the further you get away from the lakehouse. You don’t stop despite your aching legs, blurred vision, and churning stomach. When you finally make it back to the party, it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You can’t stop your dinner or the alcohol from coming out and splattering all over the ground. You bend down in your shorts and wretch, coughing uncontrollably.

“Y/N!” Nanami calls in the distance. When you pick your head up, he and Haibara are racing toward you. “Oh, no, sweetie,” Haibara coos, kneeling beside you. “Here, drink some water.” He hands you his cup of water that you greedily drink, sloshing the rancid taste of vomit out of your mouth.

Nanami’s eyes are serious as they gaze into yours, his hand on your back. “What happened?” he demands. You find that you can’t speak. Your tongue is too heavy and your mouth is full of cotton.

“Y/N!” Geto’s deep voice echoes from down the trail. You startle, looking in the direction of the familiar voice. Nanami notices and his entire demeanor darkens. “Stay here,” he demands, standing up, and before you know it, he’s pulling a pistol from his holster.

“Don’t come any closer,” he growls. “I should’ve known you two were trouble. I knew it as soon as you came here.” “Kento, wait,” he says, but that’s all he gets to say when Nanami suddenly points the gun at the duo. They stop dead in their tracks, Geto instinctively putting himself in front of Gojo slightly.

“What did you do to her?” the doctor growls, an undercurrent of rage in his tone. Geto raises his hands as if calming a snarling animal. “We didn’t do anything,” he firmly says. “We’re just checkin’ on her to make sure she’s alright.”

Haibara quickly comes up behind Nanami and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, let’s all just—“

Nanami shuts him up by cocking his gun at the Gunslingers. “You don’t get to come any closer until you tell me what you did to her. Either that or you two need to leave.” Gojo raises an eyebrow over his shades and shoves Geto aside. “Says who?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. “You? You think your wittle gun is the first one we’ve had in our faces, doc?”

Nanami tightens his jaw so much that you’re afraid he’ll crack his teeth. Gojo keeps going, poking the bear even harder than before. “You couldn’t wait to do this, could you?” he teases. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, like you wanna give her more than just some medicine.”

His smile grows sharp and cruel, mocking the doctor. “But she’ll never see you that way and you know it.” He cocks his head to the side, tutting. As smart as you are, you’re too dumb to see that, Nanami?”

“Stop,” you plea from your spot on the ground. Nanami shockingly slips his gun back into his holster. He then unbuckles his belt and tosses it to the side. You sigh, relieved. “I actually give a damn about her well-being,” he growls. “Unlike you two. You both are incapable of thinkin’ about anyone but yourselves. You don’t need to be anywhere around her.”

Gojo slides his glasses off of eyes, revealing nothing but coolness. “She would beg the differ,” he hisses and that’s the last straw for Nanami. Suddenly, his balled-up fist is connecting with Gojo’s face, knocking his sunglasses off. You screech in horror, covering your mouth. The outlaw stumbles, but barely falters despite the blow. Instead, he tosses his own punch at Nanami, nailing him in the nose. Blood gushes from Nanami’s nostril, but it’s not enough to stop him from throwing another hit at Gojo.

Gojo dodges it and charges at Nanami, ducking low to wrap his arms around his midsection. The two go flying back into the dirt and wrestle one another, each trying to get on top of the other. Geto steps in and tosses Nanami off of him before turning to help Gojo up. This would prove to be a bad idea because Nanami sneak punches him in the back of the head, sending Geto onto his knees from the blow.

Nanami goes to kick him with his boot, but Gojo rises to his feet and clocks him in the jaw. Geto gets up too and soon, it’s two against one. Hats come off, blood gushes out, bruises bloom on their skin where their fists connect. “Stop!” you scream from the sidelines. “Please, please stop!”

Haibara tries to stop them, tugging on Nanami’s arm to get him away, but he nearly gets clocked in the nose and has to jump away from the scene. You feel absolutely hopeless…until you see Nanami’s belt. Immediately, you lunge for it and fish his pistol out before pointing it at the staryr sky.

BANG! BANG!

The four men immediately flinch and look your way, wide-eyed and shaken up. You glare at them, smoke billowing from Nanami’s gun. “I said stop!” you shout, your voice nearly raw from the shouting. They continue to stare at you like you just killed somebody until you hear footsteps behind you.

You turn, finding your parents and partygoers who have come to the door to investigate. The music plays on inside. Eren steps forward, looking like a very angry Western dad in his hat and boots. “What in the hell is goin’ on out here?” he demands, his voice booming. “What, have you all gone insane?”

Yuri quickly moves to your side, taking the gun from your shaky hand. “Y/N,” she gasps. “Flower, what happened?” You don’t answer. You suddenly can’t speak.

Nanami, Geto, and Gojo look battered and bruised, their clothes dirty and boots scuffed from their fight. Eren steps to them, as angry as a bull seeing red.

“I don’t know why you three are fightin’ or what this is about, but I will not tolerate that mess here. There are children here!” He glares at each of them. “You’re lucky the sheriff went home or else, you’d all be locked up right now and I would figure some of you would want to steer clear of jail time.”

Nanami looks away, ashamed, while Gojo is busy nursing his bruised cheek. “We’re sorry, sir,” Geto pants, bowing respectfully. “We meant no disrespect to you, your family, or your town.”

That doesn’t sweeten the pot for Eren. “You are men,” he snaps. “Act like it. My daughter don’t need no little boys on her arm.”

Oh, God. Not him too. “Papa, please!” you shout, frustrated tears streaming down your cheeks. “Not now! I don’t wanna hear that!” Exhaustion and shame overtakes you, making you slump forward. “Just take me home. I just wanna go home,” you sob.

Yuri rubs your back, shiftling into mama mode. “Okay, why don’t we all just settle down and call it a night?” she softly yet firmly suggests. There is no room for discussion. She swoops you away to get cleaned up and fetch you some water before she walks you to Eren’s truck. Nanami and Haibara are already there, helping pack Yuri’s vendor into the trunk.

Geto and Gojo are nowhere to be found. You left them out back without a single word. You feel a pang of guilt for that.

Nanami, sporting two balls of tissue in his nose and dirt stains on his clothes, stares down at you guilty. “I apologize for how I reacted tonight,” he sighs. “I hope you can forgive me and that your parents are too upset.”

You shake your head, laying a hand on his arm. “Nanami, you saved my life. I don’t think they can be too upset. Thank you both for the help.” Nanami cracks a smile despite his bloody nose.

“It’s no problem,” Haibara says with a smile, patting you on the back. “You’ll be alright, right?” You nod, giving him your own reassuring smile. You don’ feel like you’ll be alright though. Yuri then returns with a basket of leftover goodies and wraps a protective arm around you. “Thank you, boys,” she says. “We’ll take her from here.”

When Eren drives off with you in the backseat minutes later, Nanami and Haibara watch you go. You don’t turn around to see if Geto and Gojo are watching. You end up falling asleep on the bumpy roads, the alcohol making you feel heavy and tired. As soon as you get home, you drag your tired, drunk self upstairs and to your bedroom where you immediately dive onto your soft, loving bed.

It doesn’t take long for your mind to stop spinning and finally settle. As sleep begins to set in and blurs the lines between reality and dreamland, you believe you hear the sound of the door creaking open and footsteps thudding across the floor. You’re too tired to lift your head to see if it’s real.

You then feel two pairs of soft lips on your forehead and smell cigarette smoke on them. You think it’s just a hallucination, but then you feel it again: lips on your skin as soft as butterfly wings.

“Close the door slowly,” Geto whispers, his voice unmistakeable to your ear. But before you can make any sense of why he’s in your room, the bedroom door creaks shut and you’re left alone to sleep off tonight.

[theoceansluvr]

Multi-Character x Birthday! Reader

warnings; me hating getting older T^T characters; percy jackson, connor stoll, annabeth chase, + leo valdez author's note; it's that time of year again where i grow up and absolutely DREAD IT. but ! writing this for the sheer joy of it all🩷 my birthday is actually tmrw i just wanted to post this earlier.. may write smth else for the day of.. side note - percy's was sorta based on things im doing for my birthday this year !

PERCY JACKSON -

OOOOO HE LOVES YOUR BIRTHDAY SO MUCH !

like genuinely, he's plotting his moves 5 months in advance !

he usually makes you gifts rather than buying them bc he's a broke high schooler(me too)

not the best crafter in the world, but it's the thought that counts right ?

he also brings you a bouquet of flowers that the Demeter cabin gave to him exclusively for you !

however, if you already have plans then he's 1000% on board !!

oh your going to a Yankees game ? he's already decked out in a jersey and cap. your going to a broadway show ? he's learning the soundtrack already + choreography for some reason

i think he'd take you under water for a little makeshift picnic thingy or maybe out to the docks at midnight

gives you the biggest, fattest birthday kiss EVER. with the addition of fish orchestra play your favorite song !

best birthday boyfriend ever; 10/10 !

CONNOR STOLL -

my absolute bias of a man, he would give you everything and more for your birthday which is usually swiped off of someone..

HOWEVER ! i like to believe he'd be a responsible person and actually buy/make you something for your birthday !

on the contrary to percy, i think he'd actually be a really good craftsman ! like he makes you a whole flower bouquet out of paper and you'd hardly be able to tell the difference

he wakes you up at the most unreasonable time so you can "make the most of the day !" as if he has a clue what he has planned

probably peppers your face in kisses to wake you up

or pranks you.. whichever floats your boat !

he goes with the flow and drags you around to all your favorite places and everything like that :3 even if it's somewhere super boring to him like the art gallery

if you're happy, he's thrilled !

also, your birthday cake is probably a chocolate little debbie cupcake with a candle

as stated, he's my favorite little man so he obviously gets bonus points !!; 12/10

ANNABETH CHASE -

MY GIRLFRIEND OF THE YEAR EVERYONE, SHE'S GIVING YOU THE BEST BIRTHDAY POSSIBLE.

literally NOBODY is going to be able to out do her for either gifts or experience overall

much like Percy, she's had this planned out for the longest amount of time. like she was planning this after your birthday last year

makes you breakfast in the morning because Chiron is a wee bit biased for her and despite the fact she never really leaned how to cook, it was reallyyyy good !! (she learned how to make your favorite for weeks)

anyways, she brings you breakfast in bed while explaining her whole itinerary of things she had lined up for you

she takes you to all your favorite places + food spots, she gets you pretty much whatever you'd like, and then she took you to a bonfire that night :3

she feels like a love letter writer for some reason, so please expect a handwritten letter on all the things she loves about you and why she appreciates you

maybe asks Ms. Sally Jackson herself to teach her how to bake so you can have your favorite flavor of cake :3c

either that or she buys a box cake mix and you make it together !

she's my favorite lover girl and i adore her; 1000000/10 !

LEO VALDEZ -

lastly, the man, the myth, the legend. he is making you the gift of a lifetime

makes you something with the most intricate design imaginable; jewelry, a book cover, maybe even a jewelry box of your into that sort of thing !

anything that would make your eyes sparkle, he on it !

probably does that advent calendar thing with all the trinkets he makes you up until the day of

needless to say, he gets WAYYYY to excited over you, so cut him some slack !

practically hangs on your every word on your birthday too(he always does but it's worse now)

oh you want to watch that movie about paint ? sure ! he'll even make popcorn even though it sounds beyond boring

he also cooks you your absolute favorite food and pretends he's on some Gordon Ramsay show to keep you entertained

ends the day with giving you that one of a kind, borderline art exhibit worthy gift he'd been working on with a very, VERY passionate kiss..

he invented the phrase "love to the point of invention" so he gets a massive: ∞/10

[jhutchh19992]

„The silence between us“

Plot: Josh Futturman and you have been online best friends since forever. You play, sleep on calls, basically live together trough your phones. One day, he asks you, if he should go on a date.

Tags: no smut, pre- relationship , long distance, difficult situation, fluff, angst

The hum of the computer and the familiar crackle of static over Discord had become the soundtrack of my life. Every night, the same routine—log in, wait for Josh to show up, and dive into whatever game we were playing. It was easy, comfortable, and felt like home.

Josh Futturman. The best friend I never saw coming. We met over a year ago in a random gaming lobby, a chance match that turned into endless conversations on Discord. It wasn’t long before we were talking outside the game, about everything and nothing at all. Late nights turned into early mornings, and eventually, we started falling asleep on call. It wasn’t planned; it just happened. It was like I couldn’t end my day without hearing his voice, and he felt the same way.

And that’s how it stayed. Safe. Easy. Until tonight.

Josh’s voice echoed through my headphones, light and teasing as we finished another round. “You’re getting rusty, you know that, right?”

I laughed, even though my heart wasn’t in it. “Please, you’re just getting lucky.”

He chuckled, but there was something underneath his usual playful tone. Something uncertain. “Hey, so… I wanted to ask you something.”

I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, and I could feel the shift in the air between us. “There’s this girl I’ve been talking to. She asked me out. I was thinking… should I go?”

My stomach dropped. I knew this day would come, but I wasn’t ready. I’d fallen for Josh somewhere along the way, between the late-night talks and sleepy goodnights, but I had never told him. He was my best friend. I couldn’t risk losing that.

Still, the thought of him going on a date with someone else, of him laughing with someone who wasn’t me, sharing those quiet, intimate moments that we had—it hurt more than I could admit.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing the words out. “If you’re interested, you should go.”

There was a long silence on the other end, and I could almost hear him thinking. He wasn’t convinced. “You sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more careful.

I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I could feel the tension building. The air between us felt thick, heavy with words unsaid.

“Because it feels… off,” he finally said, his voice softer than before. “Like I shouldn’t want to go.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my hands suddenly feeling cold. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, and I could picture him running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture he always did when he was thinking too hard. “I don’t know. It’s like… like I already belong to someone.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. Did he mean—? No, it couldn’t be. He didn’t know how I felt. I had never given him a reason to think I saw him as more than a friend.

“Belong to someone?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Josh hesitated again, the silence stretching on too long. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Like I’m already… with someone. Even though I’m not. Does that make sense?”

My heart raced, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Did he feel it too? This connection that was more than just friendship, more than just late-night gaming and casual conversations? But I couldn’t ask. Not outright. I wasn’t brave enough for that.

“Yeah,” I finally said, my voice barely audible. “I think I get it.”

There was another long pause, and I could almost hear him debating whether to push the conversation further. “I don’t think I’m gonna go,” he said after a while, his tone firmer now, more certain. “I don’t really want to.”

Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by a confusing swirl of emotions. I wanted him to stay, to not go on that date, but I also wanted to understand what he meant. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Or was I just hearing what I wanted to hear?

“You sure?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, casual.

“Yeah,” Josh said, his voice softer now. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment, the silence filled with the low hum of static from the call. I wanted to ask him, to say something, to figure out what this was, but I was scared. Scared of what it would mean if I was wrong. Scared of what it would mean if I was right.

“So,” I said, trying to break the tension, “wanna keep playing?”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

We played for another hour, but it wasn’t the same. Something had shifted between us, something unspoken but undeniable. Every time he spoke, my heart ached with the words I couldn’t say. Every time he laughed, I wondered if he felt the same way I did, if he was just as scared of ruining what we had.

Eventually, the night grew late, and like always, we decided to sleep on call. It had become such a routine that it didn’t feel strange anymore, like it was the most natural thing in the world to fall asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same warmth it always did, but this time, there was something more. Something unspoken lingering in the quiet.

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, my heart heavy with the weight of everything I couldn’t say.

As I lay there in the dark, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were changing between us. Maybe he felt it too. Maybe he already knew.

All I knew was that we belonged somewhere between what we had and what we couldn’t admit. And for now, that would have to be enough.

[llondonfog]

thanks to @kage-kitsune-no-yami for reminding me to finally spend my room tokens on, quite frankly, the most important musical track in the game 💚

[kuiinncedes]

lmao

[sparklingchim]

summer playlist; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4k

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, college!au, fwb, brother's best friend

rating: 18+

warnings: semi public sex, blowjob, spanking, jk is truly obsessed w her <3, protected sex, nipple play, jk leaves a hickey n oc gets upset 🙄, spit, dirty talk, his necklace dangling in her face 😋, jk's rejection count: TWO !!!!, pls someone hug him 🫂, fingering, clit play, groping

summary: pov: jungkook dedicates a cute playlist to you and fucks you to it on the balcony.

a/n: ur honour i was forced to write this don't come for me !!! 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy the filth 😋

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

One of your favourite forms of self-care and relaxation is Pilates.

You love dressing up in your cute gym wear sets – you own countless of them, even though you never actually work out in the gym; they’re purely for the aesthetics – and grabbing a big water bottle along with your laptop for at least half an hour dedicated me-time.

It’s a bright morning and you’re on the balcony. The sun is gently warming the air as you’re following a Pilates video on your laptop, which is propped up on the couch. Jungkook’s playlist, the one he created just for you, is playing softly in the background, providing the perfect soundtrack without drowning out the instructor’s voice.

Truly, nothing can beat these types of mornings.

But of course, something had to interrupt your peace.

While you’re on your hands and knees, your phone vibrates next to the mat. You ignore it the first few times, but it keeps buzzing. With an annoyed huff, you grab it and unlock the screen.

Jungkook’s spamming you with numerous messages.

Jungcock 😋

hi

morning

watchu up to

im taking a run in the park

and im boored

are u up?

entertain me

You

omg did you change your contact's name again

stop doing that

how can you text and run?

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he calls you on FaceTime.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Jungkook says in a raspy voice, the screen shaking a bit as he runs his miles around campus. “I’m good at everything I do.” His tight black tee clings to his chest, displaying his big pecs. You feel your breath hitch and you’re not sure if it’s from your workout or the sight of him.

“Your ego, Jungkook,” you reply, shaking your head in disbelief. “Too big.” You set your phone down with an exasperated sigh, leaning it against the feet of the couch. His eyes drift down to your cleavage.

“I think my ego is perfectly fine. Flashing his dimples as you roll your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” he asks, sounding a bit breathless – so hot, but you brush it off. You’re a strong girl, after all.

“Was doing Pilates until you rudely interrupted me,” you say skipping back on the YouTube video and picking up where you left off. “Don’t you have other girls to entertain you?”

“None of them are as cute as you,” he replies smoothly, and you can’t help but wish he wouldn’t be so good at flirting. “You look hot in that fit.”

“Thanks.” You follow the instructions on the screen. It turns out to be a bit harder to focus with a sweaty, ruggedly handsome Jungkook right beneath it.

“Are you listening to my playlist?”

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling.

Your thoughts wander back to the time Jungkook made that playlist for you. You had told him you never really listened to playlists, just played one song and let the auto-play feature do the rest. He was so stunned by that revelation that he spent an afternoon creating a cute little summer playlist just for you.

“Good choice,” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“I actually really like the playlist.”

“Of course. I make the best playlists,” he boasts, and you can’t help but chuckle at his confidence.

An exhausted sigh escapes your lips. After finishing the set, you change into the child pose and take deep breaths, relaxing the muscles.

“Taehyung’s at his morning class?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I come over?”

You lift your head to look at the screen. He’s running at a more leisurely pace, looking even more irresistible.

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m busy,” you argue, teasing him with a thoughtful pout. On the screen, the instructor announces that the little break is over, and you should get ready for your next set, but you’re not listening anymore. What’s happening on the little screen in front of you is far more enticing.

“Busy, huh?” he mocks with a smirk. “Maybe I can help you with what you’re doing.” His eyes light up with excitement as he pushes his hair from his forehead. “Or you wanna get busy together?”

Unfortunately, it seems you’re not as strong a girl as you thought. You’re very weak. His teasing question, coupled with his wicked tongue grazing his lip piercing, has you weak in the knees. You want nothing more than him on the couch and you straddling him.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” he promises, the sweet smile back on his face. “Unless you want me to.” He raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“Just come over,” you tell him with a hint of irritation.

Jungkook has the audacity to chuckle, and you frown at him.

“Be quick, or I’ll change my mind.”

~

“Hi.” Jungkook pokes his head out from the balcony.

You squeal, placing a hand over your chest.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “What happened to ringing the bell like normal visitors?”

“Why did you give me the passcode then?” he retorts cheekily, ogling the snug fit of your gym wear.

“Because I had severe cramps and didn’t wanna get up from the couch.”

Thinking back on that specific day, you feel a spark of giddiness bloom in your chest. You had gotten your period, were battling atrocious cramps, and top of it, you had run out of pads. With Taehyung not home and needing them urgently, you knew Jungkook was always quick to reply to your texts. So, you decided to ask him if he could pick up some pads for you.

Twenty minutes later, he showed up at your door not only with the pads but also with snacks. You could see the faint pink flush on his cheeks when he asked, “Girls like eating chocolate when they’re on their period, right?” and hesitantly handed you the snacks.

And then, you did something that still makes you ponder at night – you cuddled without having had sex before. Oddly enough, it felt more intimate than any sexual encounter. Granted, you did get up to some naughty things afterwards, but still. Jungkook had cuddled you through your cramps and even endured watching reality tv shows he claims to despise once again.

“Well, I didn’t wanna disrupt you.” Jungkook walks over to the couch. He grabs your laptop, settles down, and places it on his lap. “Not now, anyway.”

You shift to sit on your knees. Briefly glancing at the screen where the instructor does the next set of exercises before drifting to Jungkook’s smitten face. His skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, and his chest still rises and falls a bit faster than usually.

You nod towards him, eyes clinging to his muscular thighs that peek out from his shorts. “How am I supposed to focus when-” When you look like that. But the words catch in your throat.

Jungkook is so shamelessly cocky, he places his hands behind his head. “When what?”

You sigh in irritation, close the video, and slide the laptop off his lap and onto the couch. He opens his legs for you. “Forget this,” you huff, placing your hands on his knees. Jungkook leans in, crashing his lips onto yours, his hand cupping your face.

The kiss is needy and messy. He teases you with his tongue, and you playfully respond until he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, causing you to moan and lose yourself in the feeling of his mouth. In less than a minute, Jungkook has you completely pliant in his embrace.

The balcony is surrounded by tall privacy screens and partially shaded by a large canopy, providing privacy from prying eyes.

Your hands slide up his legs, underneath his shorts. You feel his thighs flex on your palm and you squeeze them back in response.

“Wanna feel your mouth,” Jungkook whispers against your lips, sighing in pleasure when you just barely graze your fingers against his cock that strains against the material of his briefs.

Jungkook impatiently pulls down his shorts and briefs and you help him. His cock springs out and stands prettily against his abdomen. Your mouth waters and you have to tell yourself to calm down – he's just a boy and you’re too whipped.

You spit on his cock and coat his length with it. You twist your hand as you slowly pump him and he grows even harder within your grasp, becoming veiny and heavy. You stick out your tongue and give him a few licks over his tip. Jungkook sharply inhales, a gentle moan following right after when he sees you tapping his dick against your tongue.

“Fuck, babe.” He takes his cock in his own hand and continues tapping his head against your tongue. He runs his tip across your mouth too, watching with keen, clouded eyes as he creates a little mess on your face. When he’s finished, he lets you grab his cock again. You wrap your lips around his dick and start bobbing your head up and down.

“That’s right,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. His eyes close as you take him deeper into your mouth and his head falls back. With his palm on the back of your head, he presses your head down. A curse flees his lips as almost his entire length vanishes into your mouth.

Jungkook forces his eyes open and moans at the sight of your mouth full of his cock. He loves watching you suck his cock and you love hearing him moan for you.

You’re a little breathless when you release his cock with a lewd pop sound, and your eyes a bit teary too. You stroke his dick and dip down to suck on his balls.

“So good. Fuck – you know what to do,” he mumbles like he’s drunk and you giggle at his comment.

“You like that?”

“So fucking much.” His hand caresses your head, so soft at handling you, but the way desire pinches his brows together shows how much he is struggling to restrain himself from just shoving his entire length down your throat. “Come here.” His tatted hand glides down your shoulder, pulling you up onto his lap.

He squeezes your ass and delivers it a little smack. “You’re so hot.” He peeks over your shoulder, watching the supple flesh fill his hands completely.

“How can you claim to be an everything guy when you’re clearly an ass guy.”

Jungkook takes offense at that. “I am an everything guy!” His hands quickly move to your breasts and he kneads them through your sports bra. “I love your tits just as much.” The tight material presses them snugly together. “I love every part of you.”

You feel a gentle warmth in your cheeks, but you laugh it off. “That is so playboy behaviour of you, Jungkook.”

A frown spreads on his face, lips puckering the slightest bit. “I’m no playboy,” he grumbles as he plays with your tits. Planting little kisses along your neck as if to add sincerity to his words.

You push his arms away and try to stand up, but Jungkook quickly pulls you back onto his lap, firmly gripping your waist.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his tone almost scolding. You grasp his wrist, but he doesn’t let go, his hands remaining firmly in place.

“Condoms,” you remind him. He lets out a quiet, muffled “oh”, and his grip loosens with a reluctant sigh. “’Cause, you know. We hook up with other people.”

Jungkook scoffs at your remark.

“What?” Tilting your head slightly. “I saw you with Nayeon at the party.” You try to sound as least huffy as you can.

“And you fucked Eunwoo,” he counters.

You actually didn’t – you just made out with him. You deliberately chose a spot so Jungkook could see you from the couch, with Nayeon clinging to his side, just because you wanted him to see you.

“So?”

Jungkook levels you with a piercing gaze but remains quiet. He gives your butt a pat and nods towards the balcony door. “Go get the condom.”

When you fetch a condom from your room and return to Jungkook, you see saliva dripping from his lips and he lubes himself up as his pretty fingers wrap around him and stroke his cock. He looks unfairly hot doing the filthiest things.

“Bend over my lap,” he instructs when you hand him the condom, but he ignores it and drops it next to him.

He helps you settle onto his lap, your tummy pressed against one of his thighs and your ass in the air. Jungkook rolls the tight fabric of your shorts over your ass. He flicks your panties aside and groans at the pretty sight in front of him. Wet pussy peeks out from between your soft thighs.

His finger swipes across your pussy. “So wet for me. Can’t wait to have my dick in your pussy, huh?” He rubs your arousal over your pussy, spreading your folds to spit and make an even bigger mess. He’s having so much fun teasing and rubbing you, playing a little with your clit and dipping the tip of his finger inside you.

“Jungkook,” you whine, looking over your shoulder. “We don’t have that much time.”

“Sorry.” He circles your hole with two fingers and plunges them deep inside you. “Better, princess?” he asks after you choke on a moan, mocking you with fake sympathy.

“Yeah, better.” The words roll off your tongue in a soft whisper. Jungkook curls his fingers and your eyes roll involuntarily. “So good.” His other hand rolls the plump flesh of your ass around his palm, sometimes squeezing and leaving his fingerprints on your skin.

He’s fast in figuring out a rhythmic way to move his fingers that instantly unfurls pleasure all over your body. Jungkook knows your body all too well; he has perfected the art of knowing what you like the most.

It makes you think back to high school when you had the biggest, silliest crush on him and wanted nothing more than his attention. Who could blame you? Your older brother’s hot best friend was the captain of the school’s hockey team and practically lived at your house.

Of course, developing a crush on him was inevitable. But you never showed him that you found him cute – you treated him like your older brother’s annoying best friend who was always around. Bickering was just the nature of your friendship. Sometimes, you’d get annoyed when your dad paid more attention to Jungkook. It wasn’t because he preferred Jungkook over you, but because your dad, a high-profile NHL General Manager, supported the boys on their journey.

Every girl in school was swooning over him – they still are. And you’re not the only girl he’s paying attention to. You have to force yourself to admit that he’s hooking up with other girls too, because denying it would make this seem so serious, and the thought of things becoming serious scares you.

You’re content with how things are between you two – you’re not foolish enough to turn this simple, silly arrangement into something serious when you know it wouldn’t last. Taehyung being the main reason for that. But you don’t want Jungkook in a romantic way anyway, and he doesn’t too.

Jungkook smacks your butt, soothing the sharp hit by running his hand over your burning skin right after. “Want your little pussy to be a mess for me.”

It is, you want to say. You are. But you’re lost in the tingling pleasure that clouds your mind, leaving you with nothing but desperate need for him. Any rational thoughts vanish, replaced by an angelic, repetitive chant of his name. Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

And with only Jungkook your mind, you cum around his fingers, walls clenching as the rush of your high envelops you completely.

“Good girl.” His fingers lather your slick all over your pussy, marvelling at how much it glistens under the sun, watching how it sticks to the pad of his fingers in little strings. “So pretty.” He discards your shorts and panties before pulling you up and making you straddle him.

Your arms drape over his shoulders as he takes in your weary expression, a small smirk rising on his face.

“So annoying,” you mutter and his smile grows wider. You smooch his dimple and rest your forehead against his neck when Jungkook rolls the condom over his cock and you feel him lift your hips up a little to align his tip with your entrance.

He stretches you out in a familiar, delicious way. Burying himself so deep inside you as you sink down on him. Your nose brushes his jaw and a shaky moan bubbles up when you move your hips and feel the full size of his cock.

Jungkook hands stay on your hips, guiding your movements before they sneak behind you and anchor themselves in your butt and you sniff a laugh, leaning back to peer at his face.

“Why?” he questions, curiosity piqued. Even though he doesn’t know why you’re amused, a soft smile spreads on his face.

“Nothing.” Your fingers gently weave through his smooth hair, playing with the strands at the back of his head. “Just you.”

The corners of his mouth curl upward and a satisfied, cocky glint settles in his eyes.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at the tight-fitting shirt covering his upper half. Jungkook pulls it over his head, revealing a shiny silver necklace decorating his neck. “Is this new?” You trace the delicate chain with your nail.

“Yeah,” he grins proudly. Setting your laptop aside on the coffee table, he manhandles you onto your back, pushing his cock even further into you as he sits on his knees and leans over you. “You like it?”

The necklace dangles just above your face, its silver chain shimmering and momentarily catching your attention. You pull him closer by tugging on it.

“It’s pretty. Suits you.”

The compliment conjures a boyish smile on his lips, making his face soften with a warm, endearing glow – such a sweet contrast to the way he pounds into you with practised movements, his skin covered in sweat yet again, but not for the innocent reason of keeping fit for hockey, but for the wicked reason that Jungkook can’t control his desire to fuck his best friend’s younger sister and keeps coming back to you despite having so many other options.

Jungkook drags your bra down and squeezes your breast, loving the heavy feel of your supple flesh filling his closed fist.

You throw your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, if that’s even possible, and Jungkook deepens his thrusts, leaving you gasping for air and holding onto his shoulders, needing something to sink your nails into.

He dips his head down and catches your pebbled and sensitive nub in his mouth, sucking and licking and making your moans whinier. Jungkook leaves tiny flecks of spit on your skin as he peppers your chest and neck with smooches.

Jungkook’s touches send waves of euphoria through you, leaving your thoughts scattered and your senses heightened by how good he makes you feel, chasing your high as you concentrate on the way he reaches your sweet spot every time his body meets yours, so you only realise Jungkook is nibbling and sucking on your neck when you feel his teeth poke you.

“Jungkook,” you scold him, yanking him by the hair.

“What?” He peers at you through his big, round doe eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Your finger grazes the spot where he was just working hard to create a little hickey. “You know I don’t like that.”

“But you look pretty with it.” His brows raise to make his point clear. “Trust me.” He smiles at you in an annoyingly charming way, giving the freshly created hickey a gentle kiss. “A little love bite.” Love bite. You don’t want to dwell on how those words make you feel.

The only thing you want to think about is how close you are to cumming.

“Don’t do that again.” You avoid his gaze and cast it downwards, where he disappears into you. “Just– just make me cum.”

He pushes your leg up, his palm firmly against the back of your thigh. His sparkly necklace catches your attention, swinging in front your face, and it's the way he looks – his face flushed with desire, eyes smouldering, and every muscle taut with intensity – that makes it impossible to look away, leaving you completely captivated as you listen to his pretty moans that sound even better than the song playing in the background.

Your fingers trail down his chest, brushing over his hard abs as a faint attempt to moan his name rolls of your tongue and you bask in the bliss that floods through you.

“Fuck, ___,” he rasps when he feels you squeezing his cock. “Gonna cum too.”

His thrusts become sloppy as Jungkook loses himself in the feeling of release. His moans are breathy and low and you hear him stutter when he finally comes undone too. The muscles on his tummy clench and you feel his grip on your thigh tighten as Jungkook moves his hips slowly now. With rosy cheeks and a look of deep satisfaction brightening his face, he leans in, and presses a fervent kiss to your lips.

You’d love to stay like this with him a bit longer, teasing and annoying each other until you’re ready for another round. But the reminder that Taehyung’s class will end soon brings you back to reality. You only ever have these secret moments for a limited time before reality comes crashing back down.

“Think we should head inside?” you ask.

“Uh-huh.” He’s busy dotting your neck with gentle kisses.

“You’d have to get off me, y’know?”

He chuckles, and you feel a ticklish flutter in your tummy.

“Just wait a minute.”

~

You step back inside once you’re both clothed again and you managed to pry Jungkook off you after he stubbornly clung to you for what felt like ages. Definitely longer than just a minute.

“We could make this exclusive, if you’d want that,” Jungkook proposes, stepping closer and you feel his heavy gaze lingering on you.

“Huh?” You’re busy with closing the balcony door, cursing the insects that always manage to invade your apartment. Taehyung’s been promising to put up the insect screen for months.

Jungkook helps you close the door with a strong push. “If the condoms annoy you, we could stop hooking up with other people.”

“Oh,” you utter, surprised.

If you’re honest with yourself, you have to admit that Jungkook has ruined you for other guys. No other boy quiet hits the same after experiencing how Jungkook treats you in bed. There is a reason why girls blush and giggle and crave his attention whenever he walks by. He’s just that good.

But being exclusive means spending even more time together, which increases the chance of Taehyung finding out.

You cringe at the thought of that.

“We’d practically be begging Taehyung to catch us like fools,” you tell him.

Just then, you hear someone type in the code and the front door opens.

Quickly, like a practised move, you put distance between you and Jungkook.

“You hungry, ___?” Taehyung calls out, emerging from the hallway. His gaze is focused on his phone as he types, until he notices you and Jungkook and stops in his tracks. “I was just about to call you for breakfast.” He lifts the bag from your favourite bakery. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you’d invite me for breakfast.” Jungkook beams, reaching for the bag.

Taehyung’s gaze shifts to you, but you quickly brush past him. “I’m gonna take a shower. Don’t wait for me!”

“Did you come from a workout?” You hear Taehyung ask Jungkook.

Jungkook says yes, but he doesn’t tell your brother what kind of workout.

And moments like these are exactly why you want to keep things as they are with Jungkook.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

read more of this couple here <3

[k-hotchoisan]

missing piece

<seonghwa x fem!Reader>

Building legos is important business and Seonghwa knows that very well when he realises he’s missing a piece.

So who would’ve thought two people attempting to search for one Lego piece would lead to other things?

genres/warnings: smut, pwp, softdom!seonghwa, missing Lego piece (don’t worry it’ll get found later), dirty talk, it’s legit teeth rotting fluff and smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, established relationship, mild choking, clit stimulation

a/n: another fic exchange with @bro-atz 😎👊🏻 it’s a competition of who can kill each other faster and we both LOSING. love u bro <3 and also finally serving you all the softdom! Seonghwa you all deserve 😛 enjoy my loves 🩷

read bro’s one here 💘

wc: 1.9K

‘A couple activity idea’—apparently the amount of countless generic couple websites would list this idea. 

Yeah, this would qualify for a couple activity idea casually, not when it seemed like a big business deal when it came to Park Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa had the ambiance set, his station ready—the Animal Crossing Soundtrack Playlist with Rain playing through the speakers, his desk clean and white—only stacked with the Animal Crossing Lego sets prepared to to be unboxed, in his favourite oversized shirt, and not forgetting you, who he dragged into his room to watch him build his little building block empire—comfortably seated across him on his bed. 

You didn’t mind watching your partner build the latest Animal Crossing Lego set he just easily blew a couple of hundred on hours before. You watched his inner child take form when he made you sit down with him to watch him unbox the first set he was gonna build, his eyes large and twinkling, just like his Animal Crossing character in-game.

Seonghwa hums softly, and it’s definitely his favourite soundtrack from the game. From time to time, Seonghwa would make the little critter noises his animal villagers would make while he fixes the animal villagers and you can’t help but giggle whenever he does the impressions. He’s finished a cherry tree, making sure he flailed his wrists to get your attention. Your lips pull to a smile when your eyes land on the pretty cherry tree he built, reflecting his satisfaction with his plump lips too. 

Then he’s back to his workstation, and you’re absorbed back into playing your switch. 

“This set is pretty easy”, you hear him comment. 

“Is it?” You reply, your attention focused on trying to slay the beast. 

“Yeah. I think I could finish this in another half an hour.” He sounds confident. 

“Good luck with that sweetheart”, you respond, your eyes trailing back to your game. 

Then midway through, Seonghwa demands your attention again, and this time you watch the way his eyes light up the whole damn room when he shows you the way the little Lego letter fits into its little Lego mailbox. Not gonna lie, it was a very adorable detail. He yaps about it for a good seven minutes before he sinks back into his building block world. 

“Now here’s the million dollar question—pink or brown for the door?” He asks, loosely fitting both coloured doors after one another 

“Pink, obviously”, you pick. Seonghwa seems satisfied with your answer, and you swear you see the little musical notes float out of him when he fixes the door onto the house. 

A couple more minutes later, you glance over at the messy pieces of Lego strewn all over Seonghwa’s table, below his half-completed Animal Crossing cottage. 

He has his cheeks puffed out, and his eyebrows knitted together while he’s carefully scanning over the table. 

“Are you missing a piece?” You ask, setting your console on the bed. 

“Yeah, I think I am”, Seonghwa mutters, his index finger pointing over each piece on the table, in hopes of finding it. 

You take the instruction booklet from his hands, skimming through the pictures before you settle it down onto the desk, your eyes laser-focused onto the mess too. 

“Do you wanna come over to my side instead? Maybe you can spot it better from this view”, you suggest, which Seonghwa takes, so he shuffles over to the bed, and moves to sit right where you are—and now you’re on his lap, with his chest pressing right against your back as he towers over you, arms hugging you from behind. He continues to search for the missing Lego piece. 

You take part in the search too, the game completely forgotten by then. You realise it’s nice just having Seonghwa sitting close to you like this. Maybe this was what they meant by building Lego as “a couple activity”.

“Did you drop it or something?” You ask, shifting slightly to have a better view of the floor. You hear Seonghwa grunt behind you, but you pay no attention, focusing on finding the piece. 

Seonghwa swears he’s focused on looking for the missing piece too—he really wants to complete the set, but at the same time, he’s watching and feeling you move against him on top of the way he’s able to wrap his arms around you easily, smelling his scent on you—it’s not helping his case. He bites his bottom lip, trying to manage himself. 

Obviously, it does nothing, considering he’s having you in such close proximity, and every movement you’re brushing against him is starting to make him grow sensitive. 

His hand snakes down to your thighs, drawing circles, his other hand sifting through the endless pieces of Lego. 

He forces himself to concentrate, and it works for a split second, that is, until you absentmindedly shift his free arm on under your loose shirt, and he snaps. 

“If this is your way of breaking my concentration, you’re doing a good job”, you hear his deep voice ringing in your ears. He’s letting his hands roam all over your body hidden underneath your shirt, his fingers grazing against your nipples teasingly, and it draws gasps out of you. 

“Focus on finding the block, Park Seonghwa”, you tease, readjusting yourself, making sure you press against his growing erection underneath his loose shorts. 

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to draw a shaky breath every time your clothed ass comes into contact with his erection.

You pretend to ignore him, but you can’t ignore the way he’s massaging your tits, and you find yourself sighing and growing hotter through each passing moment. 

You think he’s finally giving you a break, but you’re proven wrong when his hands are sliding down the waistband of your shorts. 

“You’re not finding the block, Angel”, Seonghwa points out, and you pout at his words. Your hand slips under the large opening of his shorts and fuck—his erection is only growing thicker. 

You hear him groan behind you when you let your hands wander to stroke his cock through his underwear. So he retaliates with his finger sliding past your panties, cursing when he realises your pussy is growing wetter by the second.  

“We’re supposed to be looking for the Lego piece, Hwa”, you mutter, mind growing hazy as his fingers get drenched from your slick, circling your clit gently. 

“Mmhm. We are, baby. You’re just not focusing”, Seonghwa replies, his index and middle finger spreading your folds open letting his index finger find your clit more easily, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Your legs push open automatically, your hands pausing stroking him off, well, not that Seonghwa minded. 

“That feels so good”, you sigh. Seonghwa’s other hand cups your jaw, and you turn to face him, feeling the way his hands slide down your throat while Seonghwa has your lips on his, eating up your whines and moans before letting you catch your breath.

“So fuckin wet for me, Angel. You like it that much?” He teases. 

“Mmhm, your fingers feel so good Hwa”, you nod, your grip around his arm tightening as the pleasure builds in your stomach every time his finger strokes against your clit. At this point, you can’t even pretend.  

His lips are pressed against your ear, his voice deep yet you sense traces of whining in his tone when he says, “Sit on my dick. I need you on my fucking dick now, Angel.” 

Of course, you comply, despite your legs trembling slightly, letting Seonghwa slip out of his bottoms. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him, his lips making a whole garden of bites down your neck before he has both his hands lift your hips. 

Seonghwa lines himself against your fluttering cunt and he pushes himself into your pussy hole, his moans of relief sending you into a spiral on top of his cock sinking into you. 

Fuck, he’s filling you up so fucking good. 

“Fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking good”, he groans when you squeeze against him. 

“Hwa, oh my fucking god, you’re so full in me”, you sob, trying to adjust to his length. 

“Do you think we can find the piece better like this?” He jokes while peppering kisses down your neck to distract himself so he doesn’t fucking just burst in you just yet. 

Even in your pleasured haze, you still manage to laugh while you try to keep your eyes open. 

“I think we can”, you reply with a giggle, before squealing when you feel him twitch in you. You shift forward slightly, feeling his cock shift in you, dragging along your walls, a small whine escaping past your lips. 

With the last of your sanity remaining, you glance over the desk one more time, biting your lip to stay grounded, obviously to no avail, especially not with Seonghwa and his little movement behind you. 

“I really think it’s-fuck-not here”, Seonghwa mutters behind you, forcing himself not to thrust into you, his fingers slithering down to your wet clit once more. 

“I’m pretty sure it d-dropped. We haven’t checked the floor yet-ngh-right?” you manage to ask.

“Mmmm nope”, Seonghwa responds, mesmerised at the way your slick growing thicker on your clit and on his cock as he continues to rub your clit. “I guess we can do that later ‘cause I really need to fuck your pussy right now, Angel.” 

He doesn’t give you much time to answer because you’re a complete goner when Seonghwa is making you bounce off his cock while he gets you off with his fingers. 

You’re trembling from the sheer pleasure, your vision slowly growing hazy, the knot tightening in your abdomen more quickly than you thought. 

“H-Hwa! Gonna cum-Oh fuckkkk”, you draw out, white clouding your vision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, dopamine shooting up your body while you completely let go on his cock as Seonghwa fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum on my dick like that, Angel”, Seonghwa groans into your ear, his gaze traveling down at the way your thick cream streaks down his cock when he pulls out. He shuts his eyes, sighing into the nape of your neck while he listens to the way your cunt is just so loud and wet for him while he fucks your cream out of you, thrusting his hips upwards. 

“God, your pussy feels so fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good baby”, he pants before his hips thrust and press against yours, filling you up with his warm and thick cum accompanied by his low groans. 

You feel Seonghwa’s hands run down your body, soothing you after emptying his fucking load into you before he slowly pulls out of your cum-filled pussy. 

“I’ll get you a towel, Angel”, Seonghwa tells you, pressing his lips on your temple before leaving the bed. 

He retrieves a spare towel from the bathroom and cleans you up, before releasing you to wash up in the bathroom. 

When you renter his room, Seonghwa is switching gazes between his half-completed set and the instruction manual. 

He looks up at you with a grin that’s making you feel uneasy. 

“Babe, turns out I wasn’t missing a piece—I already had it in all along!”

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @woojirang @jjoongstar @yuyusgirl

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

ABBA - Waterloo 1974

"Waterloo" is a song by Swedish pop group ABBA, with music composed by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus and lyrics written by Stikkan Anderson. It is first single of the group's second studio album of the same name, and their first under the Atlantic label in the US. This was also the first single to be credited to the group performing under the name ABBA. The title and lyrics reference the 1815 Battle of Waterloo, and use it as a metaphor for a romantic relationship.

In 1974, "Waterloo" represented Sweden in the 19th edition of the Eurovision Song Contest held in Brighton, winning the contest and beginning ABBA's path to worldwide fame. The song differed from the standard "dramatic ballad" tradition at the contest by its flavour and rhythm, as well as by its performance. ABBA gave the audience something that had rarely been seen before in Eurovision: flashy costumes (including silver platform boots), a catchy uptempo song and simple choreography. It was the first winning entry in a language other than that of their home country; prior to 1973, all Eurovision singers had been required to sing in their country's native tongue, a restriction that was lifted briefly for the contests between 1973 and 1976 (thus allowing "Waterloo" to be sung in English), then reinstated before ultimately being removed again in 1999. Watch the performance in Swedish here. Sveriges Radio released a promo video for "Waterloo" that was directed by film director Lasse Hallström, whose first notable English-language film success was What's Eating Gilbert Grape in 1993. ABBA recorded the German and French versions of "Waterloo" in March and April 1974; the French version was adapted by Alain Boublil, who would later go on to co-write the 1980 musical Les Misérables.

The song shot to number 1 in the UK and stayed there for two weeks, becoming the first of the band's nine UK number 1's, and the 16th biggest selling single of the year in the UK. It also topped the charts in Belgium, Denmark, Finland, West Germany, Ireland, Norway, and Switzerland, while reaching the Top 3 in Austria, France, the Netherlands, Spain, and Sweden. Unlike other Eurovision-winning tunes, the song's appeal transcended Europe: "Waterloo" also topped the charts in South Africa, and reached the Top 10 in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Rhodesia, and the US (peaking at number 6, their third-highest-charting US hit after number 1 "Dancing Queen" and number 3 "Take a Chance on Me"). In 2005, at Eurovision fiftieth anniversary competition Congratulations: 50 Years of the Eurovision Song Contest, "Waterloo" was chosen as the best song in the contest's history.

"Waterloo" is featured in the encore of the musical Mamma Mia!. The song does not have a context or a meaning. It is just performed as a musical number in which members of the audience are encouraged to get up off their seats and sing, dance and clap along. The song is performed by the cast over the closing credits of the film Mamma Mia!, but is not featured on the official soundtrack. It is also performed as part of the story in the sequel, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, by Hugh Skinner and Lily James.

The Australian film Muriel's Wedding (1994), features "Waterloo" in a pivotal scene in which lead Toni Collette bonds with the character played by Rachel Griffiths. The film's soundtrack, featuring five ABBA tracks, is widely regarded as having helped to fuel the revival of popular interest in ABBA's music in the mid-1990s. "Waterloo" features prominently in the 2015 science-fiction film The Martian. The song plays as the film's lead, played by Matt Damon, works to ready his launch vehicle for a last-chance escape from Mars. In "Mother Simpson", the eighth episode of the seventh season of The Simpsons, Mr. Burns plays "Ride of the Valkyries" from a tank about to storm the Simpson home, but the song is cut-off and "Waterloo" is played, to which Smithers apologizes, advising he "must have accidentally taped over that".

"Waterloo" received a total of 89% yes votes!

(the video is posted by ABBA's own account, not Eurovision's = safe to watch)

[alchemistc]

Evan's scraping a spoon across the plate of tiramisu they'd demolished when Tommy feels it bubbling up. He's talking about sperm whales, of all things, somehow navigating there from their earlier conversation about the Shelby his neighbor has been trying to entice Tommy into putting up on the lift even though Tommy has told him time and again that his entire life savings does not cover even a scratch in the paint on that thing, and Tommy wants to thumb at the cocoa powder stuck to the corner of Evan's lip, wants to drag him out into the street and dance under the moonlight, wants -

"And they have asymmetrical skulls, Tommy," Evan says, with his free hand still trapped beneath Tommy's and his smile stretching wide.

Half a year ago they'd sat at the table three yards to Tommy's left and Tommy had gone from nervous and smitten to reminding himself not to be too disappointed while he ordered himself an Uber in the span of an hour. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"I'm gonna say yes," Tommy says, which hadn't really been on his mind to say until this moment.

Evan stills. His hand twitches under Tommy's. His brow furrows and his lip curls out with the beginnings of a pout. "You found it, didn't you?"

"If you're gonna hide a ring box, sweetheart, do it somewhere we don't both keep our socks."

They've been playing fast and loose with the whole idea of pacing themselves since Tommy sat down at that patio table and took a sip of terrible coffee while the sun lit Evan up like he was the only thing worth seeing in the entire world. Finding the ring tucked behind his least favorite pair of wool socks hadn't even been a surprise, really.

"I can walk it back if you've got a speech," Tommy says, and Evan ducks his head and looks up at Tommy through his lashes. "God knows you might say something that changes my mind."

Evan laughs. It's a laugh Tommy fully intends to have as his soundtrack for the rest of his life. "Maybe no speech then."

"Still tweaking it, huh?"

"Maybe you just don't deserve to hear it, yet. That's what you get for hijacking the proposal, Thomas."

Tommy flips his wrist, rolls his fingers into the palm of Evan's hand, slides a thumb over his knuckles and grins. "Call me that again and I'm taking back my original statement, Buck."

Evan's nose scrunches adorably. "You made your point." (An argument, three months in, Evan pouting adorably because they'd run into an ex of Tommy's at a harvest festival and Tommy had introduced him as 'my partner, Buck'. Evan had spent the rest of the day caught up in naming conventions and the meaning of it all until Tommy's patience had worn thin enough to snark back. They'd discovered how great they were at makeup sex at three in the morning when Evan pounded on his door to continue the barely-an-argument.)

"Just. When you ask. Just know the answer's already a forgone conclusion."

If forced at gunpoint to choose a favorite feature of Evan's, it's the way his eyes actually sparkle like a cartoon princess when he smiles. He sticks his tongue between his teeth and taps his pinky against the second knuckle of Tommy's ring finger. "Noted," he teases, and Tommy doesn't even protest this time, when Evan picks up the tab.

[ckret2]

Chapter 57 of human Bill Cipher is no longer the Mystery Shack's prisoner—but at what cost:

The execution of Bill Cipher.

Saturday, 6:30 a.m.

Ford hadn't slept well.

He'd elected to spend the night on his cot down in his study. Even though he had no proof and a solid metal barrier in his head, there was an irrational part of him that feared Bill might be able to read his mind and predict his plans if he was too close to him. He'd decided it was easier to just sleep somewhere "safe" than spend all night trying to argue his own brain out of its paranoia.

The safety hadn't been much of a comfort. Every time he opened his eyes, he was sure he could see the outline of the Quantum Destabilizer laying on the worktable across the room.

He gave up and got up for breakfast an hour after sunup.

When he exited the vending machine, the first thing he heard was muffled pop music and laughter from the living room. He pushed open the door; Bill and Mabel were up with the sun as well and had apparently elected to throw a spontaneous dance party. Mabel had set her boombox on the TV, was blasting the soundtrack from one of her cartoons—"Let's tag along, with Cinnamon, 'cause all you have to do is believe!"—and was unsuccessfully attempting to teach Bill a dance move.

"You have to do it like this," Mabel said, pointing at her legs, which were crossed at the knees with her left foot crossed over her right foot.

"That is what I'm doing." Bill's left foot was positioned straight in front of his right foot.

"No it's not! Look, you've got to move your left foot further to the right!"

Bill looked at his feet, looked at Mabel's dubiously, and looked back at his own; and then hesitantly scooted his left foot a few inches to the right.

"Yes," Mabel sighed. "That's step one, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now step two!" Mabel swung out her right foot and crossed it over her left ankle.

Bill swung out his right foot and placed it down directly in front of his left foot.

"Bill!"

"What!"

Mabel cracked up and leaned against Bill's side, hugging him, while he protested, "I'm doing the same thing you are! It looks exactly the same! Don't play mind games with me, Shooting Star."

Curious. Was this a second dimensional thing—did crossing his legs over each other not come naturally to Bill? But Ford had seen him cross his legs while seated plenty of times. Maybe it was only when he was trying to dance? Ford had been taking notes on Bill's body language in human form; maybe he should make a note of this—

Why bother? What value did the information have? When Bill would be gone forever in a few hours.

Bill had coaxed Mabel into giving up the dance lesson and switching to something more freeform, grabbing her hands and spinning around the room with her to a far goofier song with annoying sound effects. His gaze glanced over Ford, glanced away; and then he stopped and did a double take, almost throwing Mabel off-balance. "What's with the sour face?" he demanded, breathing heavily from exertion. "Hey, am I not allowed to dance now?" Mabel glanced back at Ford.

Ford just shook his head dismissively and hurried through the living room, heading to the kitchen. He had the unsettling feeing that Bill had seen more than he let on in Ford's face. He told himself, again, that Bill couldn't read his mind. Not like this, anyway.

####

6:35 a.m.

Ford was making breakfast when Dipper came downstairs. Dipper glanced into the living room, then lowered his eyes and hurried past without greeting Mabel. He couldn't meet Ford's eyes, either.

That was kind of how Ford felt, too. "Eggs and bacon?"

"Just eggs."

"Scrambled?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

He added a couple of eggs, and a couple more for Mabel.

"Good morning!" Stan's greeting made both Ford and Dipper flinch; it was far too boisterous for the somber room. It almost sounded forced. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Ford glanced toward the window. The sky was gray and overcast. "Eggs and bacon?"

"Yeap, thanks."

He added more to the skillet. "You're cheerful this morning."

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, a shade defensively. "Aren't you?"

Ford offered him a wan smile. "Of course."

Dipper just stared at the table, looking slightly sick to his stomach.

####

6:40 a.m.

The only ones who seemed to be in a genuinely good mood were Mabel and Bill, bounding into the kitchen, still breathing heavily from their exercise. Mabel moonwalked across the kitchen until she bumped backwards into a chair. She sat and flopped over the kitchen table, arms stretched out across the tabletop, and only sat up when Ford sat a plate in front of her. Bill looked at the filled chairs, the four Pines with their four plates of food, and the empty skillet, and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "No, that's fine," he said, still catching his breath, "I didn't want breakfast anyway. Thanks for asking."

"Bill! Ask nicely," Mabel said.

"Please don't make me starve, while I watch you eat, because you've magically ensured I can't feed myself."

Mabel pushed her chair out to stand, but said, "I don't think that was nice."

But Ford sighed and stood first. "I'll deal with it." Maybe providing the death row inmate his last meal would help assuage Ford's misguided conscience. When Bill saw Ford get out the eggs and bacon again, he frowned and looked almost ready to say something; but he just shrugged moodily and looked away.

For a few minutes, an awkward silence reigned over the room as Ford cooked Bill's breakfast. Stan cleared his throat and said, "So, uh—hey, Mabel. What're you up to today?" As if he didn't know full well. Ford had told him last night why they'd scheduled Bill's execution for Saturday.

"Thanks for asking," Mabel said, like she'd been just waiting for someone to bring it up. "I'm going out with Candy and Grenda! Grenda's mom's picking me up at seven." No wonder she was up so early.

"At seven?" Stan repeated, checking his watch. "That's less than twenty minutes, isn't it?"

Mabel processed that. She looked out the window. It wasn't light yet; but then that was only because of the cloud cover. "Oh." She started shoveling eggs into her mouth.

"You're ditching me today?" Bill groaned in exaggerated irritation. "I don't believe it. I'll be bored out of my mind."

Mabel blew a raspberry. "You'll live!" (Ford winced.)

"At least leave me with the Color Critter tapes so I can entertain myself."

"No! We have to watch those together! Especially the two-parter, that's up next."

Bill let out the loudest, longest sigh. "Fine. Leave me to suffer."

"You big baby."

Ford offered Bill a plate of eggs and floppy bacon. Bill took it without saying anything; but he looked at his plate with three strips of bacon, Ford's as yet untouched plate with two, and his eye flicked to Ford's face. Ford's breath froze; for a moment his panicked mind was sure his pity offering had given him away.

But then Bill looked away with a deliberate air of indifference. He grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and started shoveling eggs in his mouth like he hadn't had a decent meal in days. (When had he last had a decent meal?)

As Ford sat again, Mabel asked, "Grunkle Ford! Do you want me to pick up one of Phrancisco's solo albums? He only went solo after you got stuck in space, right?"

He tried not to think about Mabel bringing him home a gift just to discover that he'd executed her friend while she was out. (Would she ever speak to him again after this?) "N—no thanks, Mabel, that's fine. You should buy something for yourself."

Bill groaned. "You two and your terrible taste in synth pop." He slurped down half a strip of bacon. "Hey, if he isn't getting anything, pick me up a CD by Mysterious Mo's Average Joes, would you? They should be in the rock section."

Mabel laughed. "Who? They're not gonna have that!"

"Why not! They were really popular. In the 1960s. For seven weeks. Any decent record store oughta have them."

(What kind of music did Bill like, Ford wondered desperately. He knew what songs Bill had referenced, he knew what songs Bill taunted him with—Bill's soundtrack was as carefully curated as his dreams were choreographed, designed to evoke a specific effect—but what did he like? It was too late for Ford to learn.)

"I'm not going to a record store," Mabel said. "I'm going to a Phrancisco concert."

"What?! Since when!"

"Since I won tickets like, two weeks ago! I told you!"

"No you didn't."

There was an unexpectedly vicious edge to Bill's voice that made Ford tense up. He met Stan's gaze; he'd clearly noticed it too.

"Oh," Mabel said. "Well. I'm going to a concert. That's what Candy and Grenda are coming over for."

"Huh." Bill leaned back against the counter, nibbling at his second strip of bacon. There was something darkly calculating in his eye as he stared at Mabel. "So that talentless hack is in town? Where's he playing? He can't be at the convention center, no way he could pull a crowd that size."

"He's not in Gravity Falls, he's in Portland."

"You're going all the way to Portland?!"

Mabel leaned slightly away from Bill. "Yeah?" She sounded wary now. Ford didn't blame her; he'd never seen Bill snap at her like this before. 

"W—Pff!—It might have been nice to know earlier!"

Mabel shrugged helplessly. "Well... sorry! Now you know!"

"Fine." Bill sighed angrily. "You're going all the way to Portland for a show—so you're not getting back til, what, dinner time?"

Mabel sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Actuallyyy, we're staying in town overnight and coming back tomorrow."

"WHAT!"

"Yeah, it's a late show. And Grenda's mom has some kind of reward thingy at a hotel she wants to use—"

"And you DIDN'T ASK ME?!"

The entire room fell silent, staring at Bill. Dipper's gaze darted between Mabel and Bill, bewildered. Stan put a protective hand on Mabel's shoulder.

Face strangely neutral—controlled, Ford thought—Bill said, "I meant. You didn't... tell me?"

Stan growled, "Not an improvement, Cipher."

"Warn, didn't warn me."

With a chill Ford hadn't known she possessed, Mabel said, "Excuse me? Was I supposed to?" Ford didn't know a lot about adolescents, but he recognized that voice. That was the quiet rage of the teenage girl offended. That was the voice that got fruit punch poured in your hair.

Bill stammered, "I mean— That— Well—!" He paused, ate a large mouthful of eggs to give himself time to regroup, and said, "Through no fault of my own, I'm completely dependent on you for any kind of mental stimulation, kid. You don't think maybe a 'hey Bill, would it bother you if I'm gone all weekend' would be polite?"

"So what if it does bother you!" Mabel's outburst was so vehement that Bill flinched in surprise. "I'm just one kid, you're a—an ancient psychic ghost triangle thing! You can't depend on me for everything, that's insane, I don't even know how to be whatever you need! Do you think I'm gonna stay inside the shack all summer just because you want me to?!"

Bill's mouth worked uselessly for a few seconds, grappling for words. Voice strained, he said, "I mean... not 24/7, but..."

"Unbelievable." Mabel shoved her chair back. "I'm gonna pack. If you'll permit me, Mr. Bossy." She stormed from the room.

"Hey, hold on—!" Bill started to follow, but stopped in the doorway—glancing back over his shoulder, worriedly, as if searching for something—and looked directly at Ford, for just a moment. And then he was gone, stumbling up the stairs trying to catch up with Mabel.

Bill knew. Ford was sure of it. He could tell the future, even as a human, they were aware of that. He couldn't see very far, from what Ford could tell; but this was a strange, powerful weapon, perhaps its beam was visible from chronologically farther away. Or maybe Ford himself had betrayed it somehow—in his face, in his body language—he remembered the way Bill had stopped dancing to stare at his face. Or maybe it was just intuition. But whatever the case, Bill could tell something was coming.

He wasn't trying to get Mabel to stay because he was worried about getting bored; he knew she was probably the only thing that might shield him from execution.

He knew that if she was out of town, he'd be defenseless.

####

6:50 a.m.

Their voices rose until they were audible from downstairs: "—But two whole days is ridiculous—!"

"Ridiculous to WHO! Ridiculous to you?! If you think you can just—just—manipulate me into staying here forever—"

"Manipulate?! Oh, all right, is that what you think of me! You've got some nerve, Shooting Star—"

Ford looked at Stan. "We should—"

"Yeah."

They hurried upstairs, Dipper close behind.

"Wait—" Dipper caught Ford's coat and tugged him back before he reached the bedroom door. "Don't, we should let them work this out."

"Are you serious?"

Dipper lowered his voice. "She's... been under a lot of pressure because of Bill. She's been acting like it's her job to save him. Maybe it'd be good if she... sorta figures out..." He screwed up his face. "Okay, I just want her to start hating him again, is that so bad?"

Well. At least it was honest. "If he gets angry enough to hurt her—"

"Then she'll flip him on his head and break his arm. I'm really not worried about her safety, Bill's pathetic," Dipper said. "Really, really... really pathetic."

Stan said, "Yeah, she'll be fine, she's a baby tiger. And maybe this'll be good for her! She won't... you know. Miss him as much. Silver lining."

Ford was worried about how bad she'd feel once she learned the last conversation she ever had with Bill was a fight; but maybe Stan was right. If Bill had died the day after Ford had discovered his true plans for the portal, would Ford have regretted that their last conversation was a fight—or would he just have been relieved that Bill was gone? Ford hadn't regretted that fight a single day since then.

He hoped Mabel would feel the same about it.

####

7:00 a.m.

There were no sounds of violence through the bedroom door—just stomping and thudding as Mabel packed. And the argument, which only seemed to be getting worse, Bill's strident voice drowning out most other sounds: "—and on top of that, you won't even give me the stupid cartoon tapes so I can at LEAST entertain myself while you're gone?!"

"AaaAAARGH THAT'S ALL I'M GOOD FOR TO YOU, ISN'T IT? I'M JUST YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!"

"Well—! Well SO WHAT! Like YOU'D spend any time with ME if you didn't think I was fun! What ELSE am I to you if not just your FUN SUMMER FIX-IT PROJECT?!"

"I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND!" 

All three eavesdroppers cringed.

"WELL! If you're gonna act like this just because I wondered what you're up to, maybe NOT!" (All three eavesdroppers cringed harder.) "What kind of fun are you good for, you wouldn't even be into burning a house down!"

"OH YEAH, WELL—YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE INTO—into—n-NOT BURNING A HOUSE DOWN!"

"OHHH WOW, GREAT COMEBACK."

Shrilly, Mabel shouted, "SHUT UP!"

"All right," Stan muttered, "This is just getting petty, I'm breaking this up."

Dipper moved like he was considering getting in the way. "But Grunkle Stan—"

"I think we're way past the point of your sister hating that demon." Stan opened the door a crack. "Hey—!"

Bill and Mabel rounded on Stan, faces red, tears pricking at the corners of Mabel's eyes. They both shouted, "STAY OUT OF IT!"

Stan quickly shut the door. A sweater gently thudded against the other side. Stan said, "Maybe we oughta let 'em work it out."

"It isn't getting violent, is it?" Ford asked.

"Only verbally."

Ford hesitated; but then nodded uneasily.

####

7:05 a.m.

Mabel said, "Grenda's mom's outside, I'm LEAVING."

"FINE! GO! Who needs you?! I could DIE and you wouldn't care!" Bill's voice cracked on the word. 

Ford was sure he knew.

"MAYBE I WOULDN'T!" (All three eavesdroppers cringed harder still. Ford hoped she wouldn't remember saying that tomorrow.) "Get out of my room!"

"No, YOU get out! I'm staying right here!"

"Fine!! Then you can just stay here all weekend!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

There was some final angry rustling and the zip of a backpack; and then Mabel was storming out of the bedroom. She slammed the door, rubbed her eyes, and glared at the guys.

They tried to look like they hadn't been listening.

"Leave him in there," Mabel snapped, pointing at the door. She was shaking with anger. "He's in TIME OUT."

Ford and Stan nodded. Dipper glanced nervously at the door, "Um..."

Mabel glared into his eyes.

Dipper raise his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine."

As Mabel stomped downstairs, Ford nudged Dipper and whispered, "It's fine. He won't be there very long."

The reassurance made Dipper look faintly sick. "Yeah."

####

7:07 a.m.

Candy and Grenda grinned as Mabel burst out of the shack, ran to the car, pulled open the back door, and slid in. Grenda cheered, "Mabel!"

"Are you ready to board the Party Bus?" Candy asked.

Grenda whispered loudly, "That's the new name of the car."

Instead of answering, Mabel slammed the door, fastened her seatbelt, and hugged her backpack to her chest.

Grenda and her mom turned around to stare at Mabel from the front seats. Grenda's mom asked, "Is everything alright, sweetie?"

"'M fine, Mrs. Grendinator," Mabel said, staring at her knees. "I just... fought with a friend this morning."

"Oh, honey..."

Voice shaking, Mabel said, "Can we just go? Please?" Her hands were trembling.

Mrs. Grendinator nodded. "Of course."

As they pulled around the Mystery Shack and toward the road, Mabel glanced toward the attic bedroom window; but no one looked back.

####

7:10 a.m.

Candy reached over to rub Mabel's upper arm. "Who did you fight with?"

Grenda asked, "Was it Pacifica?" Both of them had a lot of thoughts about Mabel's deal to help at Pacifica's alpaca ranch, which they were politely swallowing down until and unless Mabel and Pacifica had a falling out and it became acceptable to be mean about Pacifica again.

Mabel shook her head. "No, it's... You don't know him. The new guy staying at the shack."

Grenda and Candy exchanged a glance. They didn't know very much about the "new guy" at the shack, except that he was the reason they couldn't have sleepovers at Mabel's place this summer; but Mabel insisted he was actually really fun; but also she couldn't tell them his name or anything about him. They already didn't think too highly of this mysterious new guy.

Warily, Candy said, "The new guy who you said is like a cool big brother-slash-sister?"

Mabel winced. "I... don't remember saying that."

"You said that."

Grenda threw in, "Like three days ago! When we were jumping off Candy's roof and you said he could probably do all kinds of cool low gravity tricks if he was there! Remember?"

Mabel groaned and thudded her head against the window.

Grenda said, "He sounds like an uncool big jerk-slash-loser if he made you upset." Candy nodded emphatically.

Mabel didn't answer for a moment. "I used to think he was," she said. "Now I just... think he needs friendship. More than I can give him by myself."

It was a miserable grey morning as they got on the road.

####

7:25 a.m.

They'd left Gravity Falls, passed beneath the defunct railroad track, and were almost to the highway when the Triple Digit Truck Stop's lumberjack statue appeared between the trees. That was the place where the Pines and Bill had negotiated the terms of his captivity. Mabel and Bill had traded pancakes there.

Quickly, voice tight, Mabel said, "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"

"Sure, Mabel."

"Sorry."

Before Mrs. Grendinator had turned the car off, Mabel had already opened the car door and was sprinting for the truck stop's attached convenience store, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she went.

"Mabel, wait!" Candy unfastened her seatbelt as fast as she could and ran after her.

Mrs. Grendinator put her hand on Grenda's before she could get out of the car. "Who is this friend of Mabel's?"

"We don't know," Grenda said. "She won't say a lot about him. Candy and I think he's some kind of werewolf catboy they have to keep hidden from the public. You know what the Mystery Shack's like."

"Hmm." Mrs. Grendinator watched Mabel, lips pressed together in worry.

When Grenda caught up with Candy inside the convenience store, Candy pointed toward the restrooms. "Mabel went into the unisex restroom," she said ominously.

Grenda winced. The one restroom with a real door. It was the only one you could cry in with total privacy. "So it was a fight fight, huh?"

"We should grab her extra road trip snacks." Candy eyed an aisle filled with various forms of jerky.

Grenda nodded, "Definitely extra snacks."

####

7:35 a.m.

Candy and Grenda were admiring a souvenir plastic skull painted with a patriotic stars and stripes pattern when Mabel finally emerge from the restroom, face freshly washed, eyes scrubbed, looking significantly more cheerful. "Hey guys! Are we looking at cheap souvenirs?"

"Yeah, check out this cool skull!" Grenda said.

"And it has babies." Candy held up two miniature starred-and-striped skulls.

Grenda held out a plastic bag. "Hey—while you were busy, we got a bunch of snacks: Nyumalums, Gummy Koalas, Cheese Boodles..."

"Ooh!" Mabel rummaged through the bag. "And... plastic dinosaurs?"

"So we can make Mabel Juice at the hotel!"

"Aww, guys! That's—really thoughtful, thank you."

"Of course, any time," Grenda said.

Candy said, "We know you don't want to talk about your other friend, but... we want you to know you can if you ever want to."

"And if you don't, we're here for you anyway!"

Mabel gave them both a watery smile. Without a word, she pulled them into a tight hug.

They hugged her back; Grenda squeezed them both and lifted them into the air for a second.

Mabel said, "You're the two best friends I could ever ask for, you know that?" She pulled back, put her hands on their shoulders, and said, "I'm putting the whole thing at the shack out of my head! I'm not letting it ruin our trip to Portland! We're going to have fun and watch some old guy play a synthesizer!"

"Yes!" "LET'S GO!"

They left the convenience store together, chanting, "Syn-the-siz-er! Syn-the-siz-er! Syn-the-siz-er!"

####

7:50 a.m.

Dipper, Ford, and Stan had kicked aside Bill's sofa cushion bed and taken over the attic window seat so the could uneasily hover near the attic bedroom and listen for anything inside.

Bill was completely silent.

"Probably meditating or something," Stan said. "Spitefully meditating. I keep catching him meditating on the downstairs toilet. Usually in the middle of the night."

"I've seen him in the living room," Dipper said. He remembered coming downstairs when he was out of his body and catching Bill watching Dr. Calligraphy—the radiant golden aura that had surrounded Bill on all sides until Dipper broke his concentration.

Ford muttered, "As long as he isn't breaking anything."

The Quantum Destabilizer was a powerful weapon; its beam could be seen from miles away. Ford had never seen it at work fully unobstructed on Earth, but in the Nightmare Realm any missed shot had still been visible, a bright streak in the roiling dark, long after any other beam of light would have faded to invisibility.

At least Gravity Falls was in a valley, hidden from the rest of the world by mountains and trees; but it was an overcast day and only getting darker. They wanted to make sure Mabel was far out of visual range before they fired the quantum destabilizer.

They decided to execute Bill at noon.

It was a long wait.

####

11:55 a.m.

Ford went down to the gift shop; waited five minutes for the tourists to empty out as Soos escorted them into the museum for the noon tour; and slipped behind the vending machine. When he came back up with the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case, Melody stared for a moment from the cash register, then quickly averted her gaze.

Mrs. Ramirez had been watching television in the living room since she'd finished breakfast around ten. As Ford passed through again, he paused awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of the destabilizer's carrying case. "Mrs. Ramirez," he said. "We're, ah... going to make a bit of noise upstairs. Just—don't worry when you hear it, it's all under control." She'd gone to bed before he'd given Soos the news and woken up after the shack had opened; he didn't know whether Soos had had a chance to tell her.

Mrs. Ramirez took in Ford's nervous expression, his stiff posture, and his mysterious black case, and quietly asked, "It is time?"

Ford nodded solemnly.

She merely nodded back, her expression placid and unreadable. "Okay," she said. "Before you go, please turn up the volume for me. The remote is missing."

"Of course." Ford knelt down to turn the volume knob. When she said it was high enough, it was almost twice as loud.

Dipper and Stan were both standing right outside the attic door when Ford came back upstairs. Dipper looked like he was about to be eaten alive by anxiety. He flinched when Ford put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't look away from the door.

Voice low, Stan asked Ford, "You sure you don't want me to do it? I know this isn't the first time you've shot at him, but it's, uh... it's a lot easier to shoot in self-defense than it is to execute a helpless prisoner."

Ford elected not to ask questions. "No, it should be me. I designed this weapon, I know how to handle it." He gave Stan a wan smile. "Besides—it's high time I shoot Bill without your head in the way."

Stan laughed wryly.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands.

"Are you alright?" Ford knelt next to Dipper.

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy."

No stomach for murder. Ford had been preparing for this for over thirty years; Dipper hadn't. And that was a good thing. "You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it."

Stan nodded. "Good man."

Ford should have made it an order—he could have told Dipper to keep Mrs. Ramirez company—but he just nodded.

He stood, took a deep breath, and gripped the door knob. Time to face it.

####

12:05 p.m.

The room was still; the only light came indirectly from the window. There was no sign of Bill.

Ford frowned.

Moving as quietly as he could, keeping his back to the wall, Ford crept around the perimeter of the room, checking the closet by the door, Dipper's bed, Mabel's bed.

On the nightstand by Mabel's bed was a disheveled stack of papers; Ford recognized them as her crayon drawings from yesterday's lesson. In the top picture, Mabel had drawn Bill in his true triangular form alongside a pink heart-shaped Flatworlder shooting magic rainbows and blue fire. "FIGHTING EVIL WITH RAINBOWS! (BILL'S ON PAROLE TO HELP.)"

He picked it up to study the pink Flatworlder—Mabel?—and saw another picture underneath: Bill floating in the sky, blue flames again hovering over his raised hands, staring out of the paper as if he could see Ford; beneath Bill, Mabel had written, "I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!"

Ford's stomach turned. He grabbed and stuffed the second drawing in his pocket—he couldn't stand to look at it—and turned away from the others, trying not to think of Mabel, trying not to think of Bill standing on top of the TV excitedly lecturing about two-dimensional genetics and driving to the moon.

It wasn't until then that he saw the sign.

A bent pink posterboard read "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" in Mabel's round handwriting. The I's were dotted with hearts and the rest of the poster was covered in stickers of triangle-shaped objects. It had been angrily, crookedly affixed to the ladder up to the loft over the bedroom with too much duct tape, half warning, half flimsy barrier.

When Ford backed up to the window to try to see further up onto the loft, he could just see Bill, laying on his side, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. No wonder he was so quiet. His tantrum must have exhausted him—and he certainly hadn't gotten enough sleep over the past week; he'd climbed to the highest point he could find and went to sleep.

Ford could shoot Bill in the back without ever waking him.

He carefully unpeeled enough duct tape to bend the posterboard to the side, made sure the Quantum Destabilizer's strap was slung securely over his chest, and climbed as quietly as he could.

Bill lay curled up in a ball, as small as Ford had ever seen him, beneath the round golden yellow and sky blue stained glass window on the far end of the loft; as though waiting for a sunbeam through the window that would never reach him.

####

12:08 p.m.

The longer Ford was in the room, the more queasy Dipper looked. When Stan was worried he was about to get the kid's half-digested eggs on his shoes, he hissed, "What's taking him so long?" (Dipper started.) "Did he lose his nerve—?"

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out. The air conditioning was silent. The television in the living room turned off. Abuelita waited in the dark, staring at the screen, her expression calm and unconcerned, her hands in her lap laced so tightly that her knuckles were white, until the whine upstairs faded and the TV flickered back on.

####

Soos and his current tour group fell silent, staring at the ceiling as the strange blue lights between the boards faded and the electric lights turned back on. A mom gripping her two children's hands demanded, "What was that?" A few other tourists started murmuring.

"Oh, that?" Soos laughed nervously. "Probably just our resident mad scientist, testing out death lasers from space again, heh."

There was a pause, and then the tour group chuckled appreciatively.

"Haha, right? Hey, speaking of mad scientists—if any of you guys are hungry, stick around after the tour, I'll give you directions to Greasy's Diner. Sometimes Fiddleford McGucket gets coffee there—you know, the famous inventor guy?" Soos pointed over the crowd. "But first, let's go this way to see the invisible man. Or—heh—not see him. You dudes know what I mean!"

As the tour group moved on to the next exhibit, Soos paused to flip up his costume eyepatch and frown at the ceiling.

####

Stan and Dipper rushed into the bedroom. The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. Dipper was the first to spot Ford in the loft. "Great Uncle Ford?" He rushed up the ladder, Stan following as fast as his bad back would allow.

Ford was kneeling on the floor, the Quantum Destabilizer dropped across his thighs. There was a hole through the wall straight in front of him, and a pile of ashes three feet in front of his knees. The destabilizer's beam had clipped the loft's stained glass window and shattered it. 

All the tension had drained from his face. All the skin sagged into a deep frown.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

"It's done."

Dipper swallowed hard. "So... Bill is...?"

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

Stan, unenthusiastic, said, "Great. Let's go downstairs and celebrate."

####

12:20 p.m.

They got soda and pie, sat in the kitchen, stared into space, and didn't eat.

####

1:00 p.m.

The streak of empty sky opened up by the Quantum Destabilizer's beam had sealed shut again.

It began to drizzle over Gravity Falls.

####

During Soos's lunch break, he went upstairs to quickly patch the hole in the wall before the rain could intensify enough to flood the attic. Everyone downstairs pretended not to hear the hammering.

Stan crossed paths with him when he came downstairs to grab a few more supplies. "Soos? Why are you going upstairs with a broom, a dust pan, and a flower vase?"

Soos said, "Well, I was gonna clean the attic, but it seemed kind of disrespectful to vacuum Bill up, so..."

Stan grimaced. "I'm sorry I asked."

Before the next tour started, Soos brought the sofa cushions downstairs and finally returned them to the folding sofa bed.

####

Dipper went down to the cellar to play video games on the old TV. Abuelita was still in the living room, and Dipper didn't want to use the TV he and Mabel had set up in the attic nook last summer. He didn't want to be anywhere near that bedroom.

"You sure you don't wanna play pinball?" asked Tumbleweed Terror, for the fourth time.

Dipper lost another life. He sighed irritably. "No, man. You tried to kill us last summer, remember?"

"Only on account of your cheatin'," Tumbleweed said. "If'n you don't cheat, I reckon we could get along just fine."

"No. I don't even like pinball."

There was a chilly silence. "Now, them's fighting words." It shot off threatening green sparks.

Dipper scooped Rocky the geodite out of his lap, stood, turned the TV at an angle, and sat down farther away from the pinball machine.

It gave up sparking and sighed. "Hey—whatever happened to that blonde prisoner?"

Dipper flinched and looked at the pinball machine. "What? Who?"

"The one y'all kept locked down here for a day sometime last month. Golden-haired gal with jaundice dressed like a Roman emperor. She, uh... mighta sweet-talked me into letting her play a few rounds for free. Didn't make no difference—terrible reflexes like hers, she weren't no high score candidate anyway." It sounded really defensive about having given someone free balls. "Said her name was 'Goldilocks'. I didn't buy it—but she seemed like a real desperado type, figured it weren't none of my business if she wanted to keep her name secret."

Dipper frowned. He turned away from Tumbleweed Terror. "You won't see her again."

"You sure? She said she might come back, I've been keepin' track of her last score—"

"She's gone. Just—stop talking about her." Dipper lost his last life. He groaned in frustration, and started the level over again for the fifth time. None of it was familiar. He wasn't thinking about the game.

####

"Fishing," Stan said, calling through the open guest room door as he finished another lap of the hallway. He'd taken advantage of Bill's absence by flinging open every door that had remained shut all summer.

"Hm?" Ford was seated at the guest room desk, consumed with writing in his journal like a possessed man trying to exorcise his demon through ink.

"We oughta go fishing," Stan said. He'd been wandering around the shack like a restless ghost since the rain started, loudly making plans now that the rest of summer was freed up. "Fishing season's been open a month and we haven't gone yet! You're gonna love it—the kids and Soos are great fishing buddies."

"Great," Ford said distractedly.

"I bet the guys at the Mackerel lodge think I haven't been out there because I'm embarrassed they kicked me out," Stan muttered. "It's not like I can tell 'em why I couldn't get out of the house..." He trailed off, looking at the ring on his left pinky with the symbol of the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel—the one Bill had shoplifted at the mall.

He crossed his arms, pinning his left hand against his ribs. "My boat might be a little too small for all five of us, though," Stan said. "I wonder if Soos has repaired his since last summer?"

"Yes, yes," Ford mumbled.

Stan frowned. "Hey, Poindexter." He leaned on the desk to peer over Ford's shoulder. "Whatcha writing?" Ford hadn't seen anything that interesting lately, had he?

Ford froze, shoulders tensing, one hand sliding under the cover like he was about to slam it shut. A page and a half were completely packed with words, crammed together without any of Ford's usual headers or esoteric margin doodles, the only illustration a small diagram of a planet encircled by a ring, a moon, and what looked like a sea serpent.

Guiltily, Ford said, "As much as I can remember."

Stanford skimmed the page. The writing was too cramped for him to read most of it, he could only pick out a few phrases that Ford had capitalized in lieu of properly sectioning off his thoughts—"POLYGONAL GENETICS," "SPHERICAL GEOMETRY," "BISHOP BISHOP," "WHAT IS 'EYM'???" Stan pressed his lips together and nodded. Fine. However Ford got it out of his system, as long as it was out.

Stan pushed off the desk and wandered from the room. "We could get fishing gear tomorrow," he said, knowing in his heart no one would be in the mood for it once Mabel got home. "Drizzly, cloudy weather is great for fishing. This is the perfect time to go out on the lake."

Ford had already buried himself back in his journal, writing as fast as he could.

####

Abuelita had dozed off in her seat with the TV still playing soaps.

She was the only person in the house whose conscience felt clean.

####

7:00 p.m.

For the first time since the beginning of summer, Melody stayed over for dinner. 

It was a very quiet dinner.

####

10:30 p.m.

"I don't... wanna sleep in the attic tonight." Dipper hovered awkwardly in the guest room's doorway. "You know. With... Mabel gone and all."

"How come," Stan said, "you scared of ghosts?"

Ford shot him a look. "Stan."

"What!" Stan shrugged. "There shouldn't be a ghost anyway, right? That's what your fancy gun is for? It destroyed his... soul or whatever he's got?"

Guilt briefly flashed across Ford's face. He nodded sharply. "Dipper—I'll be sleeping down in my study tonight. You can sleep in my bed if you'd like."

Stan almost asked why Ford was still sleeping downstairs, with the demon out of the picture; but he figured it was for the same reason Dipper wanted to stay out of the attic. Scared of ghosts. Not necessarily literal ones.

"Hey," Stan said to Dipper, when Ford had left and the door was shut. "It's—fine if you want to stay down here. Really. Spending the night in the same room as a dead body's no joke."

Dipper opened his mouth, decided he didn't want to know, and shut it. "Thanks."

Stan was settling into bed and about to take off his glasses when he glanced around the room, flinched, and swore under his breath.

"What?" Dipper glanced across the room. He cringed.

Soos had placed the flower vase on the guest room's fireplace mantle.

####

10:32 p.m.

Dipper carried the vase into the living room, set it on the table, and ran back to the guest room.

The axolotl in the fish tank studied it curiously.

####

11:59 p.m.

In a hotel room in Portland—the Grendinators sharing one bed, Candy and Mabel sharing the other—Mabel waited silent and still for Candy to fall asleep. When Mabel was sure Candy was out, she took her phone off the bedside stand, hid under the covers, and turned the phone's volume down to the smallest sliver of sound possible. She looked up the song "We'll Meet Again," pressed play, and held the speaker up to her ear.

She wiped her tears with the bed sheet.

####

Sunday, 10:15 a.m.

The rain was coming down even more heavily than yesterday.

Soos had been reminded of a broken umbrella Ford had given him a couple weeks ago, and gone looking for it to fix it. He'd now been searching for it for over half an hour.

"I'm sure I left it in the office," Soos said, checking the coat rack in the entryway again to see if he'd hung it up there and forgot.

Stan grunted. "Everything's going missing. The remote's been missing for days." He, Ford, and Dipper were sitting in the living room watching some feel-good Sunday morning news story about a performance troupe that did interpretive dance to bird song. No one was enjoying it. "I don't think I've seen the remote since before the whole eclipse-or-whatever."

"Oh, I found it," Soos said.

"You did? Where?"

"Yeah, it was in my Monster-Mon backpack for some reason? It was pretty waterlogged though. I've been trying to dry it out in the office."

They processed that. Then Ford let out a bark of laughter. "Did Bill bring it along when we went camping just so no one could use it?" He sat up and sucked in a deep breath to shout the question to Bill—and then remembered. The air whooshed out of him in a long sigh. He slouched back onto the sofa.

They heard a car pulling around the house.

Every head turned toward the door.

Outside, Mabel's muffled voice said goodbye to her friends.

There was a moment of dreadful hesitation; and then Dipper, Stan, and Ford were on their feet and moving to the entryway.

Stan opened the door before Mabel could reached the doorknob. "Hey, sweetheart! How was the show?"

Mabel started. "Oh! Great! Hi guys!" She looked between their faces warily. "Whaaat are you all doing here?"

They all avoided meeting her eyes in different directions. Stan said, "We were just—watching the TV and heard you pull up."

"Oh," Mabel said. "Well. The concert was amazing! I got an autograph!" She pulled up her sweater (which today had what looked like two kissing parrots with her sleeves serving as their wings), to reveal she was wearing a pale blue t-shirt of Phrancisco's first album cover, signed in black marker. "Yesterday we went to a cool bookstore, and we got those fancy donuts this morning! Grunkle Ford, we got a lot of pictures of that weird crystal shop sign on the way home!"

"Ah," Ford said. "Good."

She swung around her backpack on one strap to unzip it. "I got two CDs—one of Phrancisco's new stuff and one with acoustic covers of his greatest hits! Except I don't think he had any hits? So I guess they're just his favorite songs." She pulled out the acoustic album. "I... got this one for Bill. I'm gonna ease him into liking synth pop by taking the synth out first." She looked between the guys. "Where is he?"

They winced in three different ways.

Cautiously, Mabel asked, "Is he still in the attic?"

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. Stan lost the silent argument. He looked at the weathered porch between the door and Mabel's shoes and mumbled, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

Stan cleared his throat. "We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" Her voice was small. "Is it true?"

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened.

She backed out of the doorway, face blank with shock. Stan reached for her, "Sweetie—" but she jerked her arm away before he could touch her. She turned, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack toward the main road, her sweater making her look like a colorful bird fluttering away into the gray rain.

"Mabel—Mabel!" Stan stepped out onto the porch. "It's pouring out there, you can't go out!"

Dipper ran several steps after her; then stopped and glanced back at Ford, searching his face for a cue—now what?

Slowly, Ford put a hand on Dipper's shoulder, holding him back. "She... probably doesn't want us to follow."

Dipper's shoulders sagged, but he nodded.

"She'll be fine," Stan said worriedly, "right? She just—needs time. Gotta grieve in her own way. She'll be back later."

"Yeah," Dipper said, voice thin. "She'll be fine."

Stan stared into the rain a moment longer; then nodded sharply, turned, and shuffled back inside.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so." He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

Ford looked at the Hand Witch's ring; but its cabochon remained a steady, deep blue.

####

8:00 p.m.

Mabel returned to the Mystery Shack when dinner was almost over, shoes and knees muddy, hair hanging in wet tangles around her shoulders.  Stan sent her upstairs to change into something dry before she ate; she obeyed without saying anything.

Soos quietly hustled into the living room to grab the flower vase and hide it back in the guest room.

By the time she came back downstairs, everyone had finished eating and Abuelita was washing the dishes. Mabel was wearing a sunny yellow t-shirt. Nobody said anything.

Abuelita had set out a plate for Mabel; she ate alone in the kitchen. Nobody disturbed her.

####

8:45 p.m.

Mabel stopped in front of the living room on her way to the stairs, looked in at her family—Stan, Ford, Dipper, Soos—like she wanted to say something; but she changed her mind and headed up. After a few minutes, Dipper quietly slid off his seat, said goodnight, and followed Mabel upstairs.

"Whaddaya bet that poor kid's in the doghouse now?" Stan muttered. "Bet he'll be back down here in a few minutes."

Ford shook his head. "She—probably needs her brother right now."

Dipper didn't return.

####

Monday, 1:00 a.m.

Stan had said that now that they finally had the house to themselves again, he was gonna enjoy one of the privileges of being an adult he'd missed all summer: staying up to watch boring late night movies. Ford and Soos sat up with him.

None of them cared about the movies. They just couldn't think of sleeping.

During a commercial break between movies, Soos said, "So... I figure we can put the door back up on the downstairs bathroom, huh?"

Stan gave him a tired look.

There was a knock on the back door.

All three of them whipped around to face it.

"Dude," Soos whispered. "It's like, one."

Stan said, "Who the heck...?" He glanced at Ford.

Ford was just staring at the door, eyes wide and mouth turned down, face sick with dread, like he was sure he was about to get arrested for murder.

Stan slowly stood, looked around for a potential weapon, remembered that any potential weapons had been cleared out of the common areas, and cautiously went to open the door.

Standing outside, pants soaked up to the knees, one ankle hooked over the other, hand on hip, using a broken umbrella like a cane, wearing top hat and black gloves and a sequined gold tailcoat—

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

####

I considered ending the chapter right after the execution when they were eating pie lol.

Comments? Questions? Theories? Thoughts? Questions? Emotions? More questions? I have been DYING to hear what y'all think of this one!

[minisugakoobies]

two am | yjh

Pairing: Jeonghan x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, exes to lovers, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: late night texting, excessive use of the pet name 'baby,' fighting as foreplay, dirty talk, multiple references to reader's pussy, implied/referenced cheating, references to oral sex (reader receiving), slight exhibitionism, riding/grinding, nipple play (licking/biting/sucking), p in v protected sex, Jeonghan is bad for reader but they can't stay away

Word Count: 1.6k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: It's two am and your ex is texting you again.

Text Prompts: Both are in italicized pink font in the story.

A/N: I'm back with another installment in my SVT texts series. This one is dedicated to @minttangerines. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCE!! 🎉🎉 I brought you some toxic Jeonghan, hope you like him. 💜 Thank you for being such an amazing friend, tour guide, driver, and partner in crime. 😘

Soundtrack: 2AM by SZA; Sleazy Bed Track by the Bluetones

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s nearly two in the morning when the warning pops up on your phone:

Cover your phone, explicit material coming your way

You barely have the time to excuse yourself from the table, heading in a panic towards the bathroom, before the next text from your ex arrives.

Jeonghan never includes his full face in his photos. It’s always just that maddening smirk of his, catching your eye first before it’s drawn down to the main focus - thin fingers wrapped around an obscene bulge, a darkened tip poking above the waistband of his boxers. 

You lock yourself in a stall and fire back.

You: You have to stop sending me these photos

Satan: That’s a rude way to say thank you

You: I’m serious, Jeonghan. We’re done

He doesn’t reply. You know better than to think he’s accepted your response. He’s refused to accept it for the last three months. 

Your phone chimes. Another photo. The boxers have been pulled down. You bite your lip, then catch yourself, snarling at your reflection on your screen.

You: I said stop!

Satan: That’s what you say now, but we both know that’s not what you’ll be saying later

You: There won’t be a later

You: Not this time

Satan: Really? You gonna tell me you don’t miss this cock?

Satan: That your pussy’s not already dripping imagining it inside you?

It’s the anger his words stir in you that’s making your pulse pound right now, you tell yourself.

You almost believe it. 

Satan: Come over, baby. Wanna make a mess of you like I did last time

You: Not. Happening.

Satan: You out with your friends again tonight? 

Of course he knows where you are. You’ve been going out with your friends every week since the breakup. Tonight’s the first night in a while that you’re sober, not in the mood to drink. This conversation is making you regret that. 

You: What does it matter if I am?

Satan: It’s almost closing time. Think you can find someone to take home?

Satan: Someone to make you forget about me? About how I fuck you?

Satan: You know no one can make you cum like me

To think his confidence is what once drew you to him. Now it repulses you, almost as much as your thighs suddenly clenching together does. 

You: You’re unreal

Satan: That’s right

You: That’s not a compliment

Satan: I know what you want

You: What I want is for you to fuck off forever

Satan: Baby please. Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this

Satan: You can block me anytime you want. But you don’t

Satan: Why do you think that is?

You could answer him. Argue for a while, like you always do. Like you always did. It was the thing that the two of you did best - second only to fucking. You scroll upthread, looking at the last time you fought, reminding yourself how it ended:

Satan: Don’t tell me what to do

You: Eat me out

Satan: Okay tell me what to do

It’s not in your phone what happened next, but it’s seared into your memory, replaying behind your eyelids - lying on Jeonghan’s bed, legs splayed while he puts his wicked mouth to its best use. 

But you also remember the come down. The anger at your weakness. The shame. Knowing nothing has changed. That he hasn’t changed.  

You keep scrolling back, seeing the same thing over and over, watching the pattern repeat. You could stop it right now - end the conversation, delete him from your phone, and go rejoin your friends. That would be the smart thing to do. 

Satan: It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to admit it

Satan: Just come over and show me

If only you were smart.

“Mmmphm!”

The hem of your shirt makes a terrible gag, doing nothing to keep your volume down. Jeonghan’s head snaps up, gaze torn away from where he was watching himself disappear into you.

“Quiet, baby. Do you want them to hear you?” 

The “them” in question are his roommates, Joshua and Seungcheol, who are both sleeping on the other sides of the walls. Jeonghan would be sleeping in one of those bedrooms, too, if he wasn’t out here fucking you on the couch. Or, rather, sitting back and looking smug while you ride him on the couch. 

He knows you don’t want anyone to hear you, so you don’t bother to answer him, just glare while stuffing more of the already spit-soaked material into your mouth. His roommates would judge you for being here. Just like your friends did earlier, when you told them you were leaving. You said you were tired, but they’ve noticed your pattern too. And they’ve stopped trying to get you to break it, unwilling to expend their energy on such an impossible task. 

That’s fine. You don’t need to drag anyone else down to the bottom with you.

Jeonghan runs his fingertips over the exposed skin of your stomach, chuckling when you shiver. 

“Always so sensitive,” he tuts, shaking his head. 

He cups your breasts with his warm hands, pushing your shirt up further until the chilly night air hits your nipples, then bends his head down enough to lightly graze one with his teeth. You gasp, nearly dropping your impromptu gag, and Jeonghan pauses with his lips near your other tit, looking up at you, saying nothing, but his eyes communicate so clearly what he’s thinking - Be good, baby. 

If your relationship was a song, that was his refrain:

Be good, baby, I have to work late this weekend.

Be good, baby, I’m going out for drinks with some coworkers.

Baby, she’s just a friend. Don’t worry. Be good for me.

Despite everything, a part of you still yearns to be good for him. So you bite down harder. 

Jeonghan hums in approval. His mouth latches onto your other nipple, sucking lewdly, not much quieter than your whining has been. Hypocrite. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your loud as fuck thoughts and focus on the wet warmth of his tongue as it laves over and around your nipple a few times, in broad, messy strokes.

You arch into him, lacing your fingers through his hair to try to hold him in place. But like always, he can’t be tamed, lifting his head to smirk at you. You whimper, and he smiles harder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you to his hungry mouth. You eagerly lean forward as your shirt falls from your jaw. 

Jeonghan’s kisses overwhelm your senses until you’re drowning in him. His tongue glides like honey, thick and slow, melting over yours, and you groan, grinding on him slowly.

This is what you needed. Even after all that went down, all the lies, all the tears, you still crave him, body and soul. If this is the only way that you can have him, this two a.m. interlude, then you’ll take every second you can, ignoring the little voice whispering that you’ll regret them all.

“That’s it, just like that.” Jeonghan looks down again, mesmerized by the smooth roll of your hips. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, hard enough that you know you’ll still feel his touch tomorrow. “Fuck yes, baby, ride it.” 

He guides you up and down his shaft, the wet sounds of your cunt sliding over him embarrassingly loud in the still room, and you let him control the pace, all your concentration on his lips - kissing them, nibbling them, sucking on them one by one. Trying desperately to get your fill of them, of him, because this is it. This is the last time. You swear it. 

Maybe this time, it will stick.

Jeonghan’s thumb rolls over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth. He does it again, and again, and just like that you’re falling apart, body singing electric as he lights up your nervous system with his touch. He keeps thrusting up into you, taking control again as you tremble above him, and you know he’s reaching his crest, the familiar signs too obvious to miss. He drops his head, muttering an endless stream of ‘fuck’s and ‘baby’s in that choked voice of his, and then his hands lock your hips in place, as deep as he can get as he fills the condom he wears.

It’s always intense, this moment, when it comes. The two of you, breathing heavy and spent, clinging to each other as you ride out the waves, like you’re hanging on for dear life. Or maybe that’s just you. Because you know that once the high is gone…

“Knew this pussy missed me.”

…the lows return.

Jeonghan laughs when you push yourself off his chest. He pinches your ass cheek for good measure, and you scowl, scrambling to climb out of his lap as quickly as you can, which is pretty difficult given your loose limbs. 

“Don’t say that.” 

Jeonghan watches with simmering amusement as you dress hastily, fumbling with your bra to the point that you nearly decide to leave it. “But it’s true.” 

“No, it’s not, and besides, it’s fucking gross when you talk like that. Like I’m not a person or something.” 

“Whatever.” He’s already losing interest, reaching for his phone. No need to argue anymore. He got his. 

You can’t get your clothes on fast enough. “Stop sending me photos. Don’t text me again.” 

You might as well be talking to the couch. He hums mechanically, scrolling away. “Lock the door on your way out.”

In the elevator, your finger hovers in its usual spot over the delete button. 

A chime. Jeonghan’s mouth, tongue extending between the peace sign he’s flashing, followed by four words: Sweet dreams, baby. 

You slip your phone back into your pocket as you descend.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[entirelysein-e]

『 Red Wine Supernova 』

☼ synopsis: What happens when your best friend finds out that none of your partners pleased you yet? Will he be the one to give you your first orgasm?

☼ character: Kiryu

☼ wc: 3,3k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, fingering, oral (reader receiving), squirting, overstimulation, consent checks, friends to lovers, hinted that more will happen

☼ notes: a big thank you to @suyacho and @kenpachisbrat for enabling my latenight thots 🥹🫶

It wasn't unusual for you to show up at Kiryu's place on a friday night, a small bag hanging on one shoulder as you held your favorite takeout in your hands, eagerly waiting for your pink-haired friend to open the front door so game night could finally start. Ever since you've become close to Kiryu, fridays were reserved for gaming nights where you would hang out at his home, bodies sunken deep into the cutely shaped bean bags in the middle of the room while eating whatever your heart desired. Both of you enjoyed this time together, playing silly games on various consoles or simply hanging out together to your heart's content. You would gossip a lot, latest dates, partners - just the average bestie talks.

At least that's how things were until you got together with your latest boyfriend, who didn't like just how close the two of you were, constantly assuming that you're cheating on him. While it did hurt Kiryu when you said you can't come by anymore, he understood, not wanting to be the reason your relationship fails - but when you texted him that you're coming over, baring the news of the breakup, his heart did skip a little beat and perhaps your now ex boyfriend was correct and Kiryu did see you more as a friend but it not like you'd ever know, right?

The door soon swung open to reveal a very happy Kiryu, looking excited to finally have gaming night with you again.

"Come in, don't be shy you know the way!" He almost dragged you inside, shooing you towards his oddly cute room you came to love and adore. You were barely able to sit down on your favorite beanbag when he already sat on his, your controller held out for you to take.

"I figure you don't want to talk about him?" He asked kindly, not pushing the subject. You've never mentioned him much to your friend, fearing it might be considered "tmi" even though you knew that this never existed with Kiryu.

"Nothing worth mentioning, really," you mumbled. The reasons for the breakup have piled up over time, but the main reason must have been the way he never cared about your needs in every department of the relationship. Not once did he stop to consider your feelings - not even when you were intimate.

"He said eating a woman out is weird and 'unsanitary'" you said out loud, not an ounce of shame coming over you upon realizing that you were thinking out loud and Kiryu could only gasp.

"So he never...?" He asked almost too respectful and you shook your head.

"He didn't want to 'waste time' on foreplay either since 'lube is a thing'" you continued, making little quotes in the air whenever you repeated that asshole's words.

The game was long forgotten by the both of you, your little guys, just hopping up and down to the Temple grounds soundtrack of Tekken.

You didn't know you were rambling at this point, embarrassment slipping through every crack of your being when you confessed to your best friend that no man could ever make you feel good in bed. When your rambles came to a stop for you to take a deep breath, you registered Kiryu's small giggle, wondering just how long you were carrying that around with you instead of talking about it.

"What's so funny about that?!" You snapped at him in a defensive manner, which made him wipe a fake tear.

"Nothing, nothing" he reassured you teasingly before taking a breath to compose himself.

"It just shows what an asshole that guy was. Small dick, eh?" He asked amused, already having suspected that your ex wasn't the most secure person given you were no longer allowed to see your best friend. A laugh burst out of you, which relieved Kiryu visibly - the crease between your brows disappearing and getting replaced by little wrinkles around your eyes. He loved how sincere your laugh seemed, reaching all the way to your beautiful eyes and - he's been staring for a little too long. Fuck.

Your boisterous laugh slowly died down and left you gulping under the intense stare of your best friend. Were his eyes always this green? You wondered as you found yourself getting lost in them until they seemed to change. Kiryu's pupils dilated upon the shift of air around you two - a friendly hangout to play games suddenly felt different, an unfamiliar feeling spreading and making it hard to breathe for the both of you.

"You know, I could show you," he offered, his voice hushed as if he's speaking to himself.

"Show me what?" You asked naive and your face started to get hot, fearing that you knew exactly what he meant.

"How good it can feel to be with a guy," Kiryu confirmed your fear and you immediately shook your head, only to break the intense eye contact you two were still holding. Anxiously, you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap, picking up the controller just to hold onto something.

"We can't. You're my best friend." Your words sounded defeated, as if your friendship would stop you from anything, but Kiryu let go of a breath he was holding, a small chuckle escaping in the process.

"And? Nothing has to change about that. It would just be two friends having some fun," he reassured you, not trying to push you into it and you actually considered his words.

"I couldn't act like it never happened. I'm not the friends with benefits type," a sadness underlined your words, but Kiryu leaned closer and when you didn't bother to move away, he looked up at you with these damn shiny puppy eyes.

- GAME OVER - the loud announcement coming from the TV startled both of you out of whatever trance you were in before laughing it off.

"If you promise not to tease me about it... we can maybe... you know, a little. Not all the way," you talked around it, not wanting to say it out loud because that would make it too real and weird.

The pink-haired man didn't need to be told twice, positioning himself right before the game destroyed the mood - face just inches from yours.

"You sure?" He asked and his tongue darted out to wet his lips a little as he waited for a reply, which came in the form of a small nod.

"If you change your mind, just speak up, yeah?" His voice was soft like honey now and his pupils dilated once again.

It felt weird letting yourself go like that with your friend, but your body screamed for him, a yearning that has been buried all these years, but the feeling seemed to be mutual. Soft hands cupped your cheeks where one of his thumbs rubbed over the apple of your cheeks, a sly smile etched onto his lips.

"You know, I've wanted to kiss you for a while already," he mused and leaned in without further warning. Kiryu trusted you to speak up or to push him away if you happened to change your mind, but you kissed him back the moment his lips connected with yours.

It felt like a little firework setting off in both of you as the kiss dragged on, the taste of his strawberry chapstick long gone as your tongues danced around each other, wrestling for dominance, which you gladly granted him. Despite the desperation behind the kiss, it was sweet and sensual, his hands roaming your body while staying respectful. Only when your hands started to wander further down his abs to play with the material of his belt did his hand came to hold yours firmly yet gently.

"No, don't. It's about you," he mumbled breathless as he pulled away from the kiss. The effect you had on him was visible, but he didn't care, wanting to put the focus on you.

"But-" you wanted to protest and he kissed you again just so you wouldn't continue your sentence of how he should also feel pleasure.

"It's enough for me, trust me," he reassured you as his kisses traveled down your neck until he nibbled on your sensitive spot just to suck on your soft skin.

You were lost in how good he made you feel just by kissing you already, not wanting to argue about pleasing him and being selfish for once in your life.

"May I?" His voice was barely above a whisper, and you felt his breath against your ear, which made you shudder. Soft hands rested just under the hem of your shirt, waiting for permission to rake over your skin without fabric between the two of you this time and you nodded before kissing him again.

Kiryu's warm hands slipped under your shirt and caressed your skin, goosebumps forming where he touched you, but his gentle touches always stopped right under your chest, wanting to respect you and your body. It drove you insane to the point where you took your own shirt off, needing his hands on your chest right this second or you would combust.

"Should I take it off?" Honeyed words against your skin as he kissed your neck once again, a single finger slipping under the strap of your bra, teasing your shoulder and you could only nod before a desperate "yes, please" slipped out of your lips.

Kiryu didn't need to be told twice, slipping the bra strap he was playing with down your shoulder, small kisses following its trail before one hand unclasped your bra behind your back. The heat was rising up your cheeks when he got rid of your bra so quickly, arms crossing over your chest in an effort to hide, which made him halt right away.

"Changed your mind?" He asked curious, no hint of anger in his voice and you shook your head.

"No, it's just- you make me feel so good it's ugh... embarrassing," you admitted out loud, your whole body burning hot from embarrassment, but your best friend could only chuckle in response, kissing each hand the moment you dropped them from your chest.

Yes, he wanted you - badly. But you were so much more to him than just your body. It was everything he dreamed about countless times before - better even and he needed you to understand that making you feel good is pleasuring him too. Soft kisses trailed up each arm until he was leaving open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, your heart almost beating out of your chest and you let yourself sink into the beanbag beneath your body.

"Please," you whispered, unsure what you were asking for, but you needed him to do something, anything really.

Kiryu understood your empty plea and kissed the supple flesh of your chest until his lips wrapped around one nipple, a blissed sigh slipping from his lips and erecting goosebumps all over your skin. He could do this all day, mindlessly sucking on your nipples, tongue swirling over them as his fingers played with the other so neither boob felt neglected. You started to get vocal at this point, soft sighs and mewls slipping from you and you could feel him smirk against your tits.

"You're so responsive for me... feeling so good just from this?" He asked teasingly and used his teeth to gently tug on the nipple he was previously sucking on.

All you could think of at this point was his face between your thighs and the way his skilled mouth would feel against your neglected little pussy. Unbeknownst to you, you were rubbing your thighs together at the thought, but the pink-haired man noticed right away, his heart swelling at how good he makes you feel.

"Want me to move this further down, eh?" He asked with such a dirty smirk on his face that you wanted to hide, but all you could do was nod shamefully.

"Just lay back and let me make you feel good, princess," he cooed as his hands worked on your pants before pulling them off in just one move.

His fingers traced back up your legs and raked over your thighs ever so gently, which made you spread your legs for him so willingly. Slender fingers continued their path until one single digit ran over your soaked panties, humming when he felt your sticky, wet essence completely soiling your underwear.

"Did any other guy get you this worked up before?" He asked, almost cocky, but you know he needed to hear that he's the first to make you lose your mind like this.

Wordlessly, you shook your head as the embarrassment set in once again under his intense gaze, but his lips curled up to a sweet smile.

"Then I won't make you wait too long, hm?" He asked sickenly sweet before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, eyes searching for any hesitation on your face, but you willingly lifted your hips, allowing him to take them off by offering yourself like that.

Kiryu peeled your panties off your legs slowly, the fabric sticking to your pussy and forming little strings of your slick when he pulled them off, a small chuckle falling from his lips once again when he sees just how wet you are from his caress. Once you were entirely naked, he pushed your knees towards your chest to take a closer look at the cute little pussy he gets to play with, arguably his new favorite thing to play with.

"Y-you don't have to," Your voice ripped him out of his thoughts and he looked up at you like a kicked puppy.

"But I want to... or have you changed your mind?" He asked concerned at the sudden change, but you shook your head again, trying to gather a clear thought before answering him.

"You hesitated," you eventually pointed out and he smiled softly, his pink hair swinging as he shook his head no.

"I was admiring that sweet pussy of yours and thought about what a shame it is that no one ever tasted it before," he answered amused yet honest and you sunk further in the beanbag, his words making you shy away but your pussy clenched, desperate to be touched.

Only when you told him that you wanted him to go on, he kissed your thighs down to your mound before holding eye contact. Once your eyes were on his, his thumbs came down to part your folds and his tongue dragged through them in a long lick only to circle around your bundle of nerves just like he did with your nipples moments before. The feeling caused you to moan and arch your back for him, one hand flying down to hold onto his soft hair, not wanting him to stop. Hot air flushed over your glistening cunt when he chuckled at the desperation, but his ministrations never stopped. Kiryu's tongue continued to play with your pussy, swirling it over your clit or spelling his name onto it with the tip of his tongue to claim you in a sick way, to make you his, hoping to burn his name into you so no other man can make you feel this good.

After just mere minutes, he had you close to the edge, the knot almost snapping and your hand tangling in his hair to gently pull on it.

"Let go for me, it's okay," he whispered against your drenched folds, tongue dipping into your entrance to taste more of your sweet juices before he continued to lap at your sensitive clit the way you liked it.

Hearing him so eager for your release made you relax and give into the pleasure until the knot inside of you exploded, a sweet moan of his name ringing through his room, yet his tongue never slowed down to help you prolong the orgasm. Only when you started pushing his head away, far too sensitive for a second orgasm did he pull away. Your juices were clinging to his chin when he gave you the sweetest smile.

"Was it as good as you expected?" He asked sincerely and licked your slick off his lips.

Breathless, you nodded, unable to form even a single thought at how good he just made you feel. Seeing your pussy clench around nothing but air made him pity your sweet little cunt, so he brought a finger up to circle around your entrance, which made you whine out, eagerly nodding.

"So eager for more..." he teased, but wondered just how neglected your pussy might have felt after no one bothered to give it the attention it deserved for, lord knows, how long.

His finger slipped in with ease from his wet you still were and his tongue returned to lap at your clit - much slower this time, but it felt so much more intense when his finger massaged your sweet spot now too.

"I'll do this until you tell me to stop," his words come out quiet against your slick folds and he closes his eyes in pure bliss upon feeling you clench around a single finger. The room filled with your sinful cries of pleasure once again when he curled two fingers into your g-spot while his lips caused enough suction on your clit to make you lose your mind entirely now.

Kiryu's pants grew tighter the closer you got and when the squelching noises alongside your whines of his name were all he could hear, it became almost impossible to not cum untouched, a damp spot of pre-cum forming in his boxers, yet he'd never ask you to return the favor - simply palming himself over his pants to your sweet sounds.

Your high approached once again and Kiryu stopped himself from his own release to focus on yours fully, fingers massaging that one spot that had you curling your toes as his tongue relentlessly dragged the letters of his name onto your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. His free arm held your legs down, pushing them down to your chest some more until you were almost screaming in ecstasy. A clear stream of liquid poured from your cunt as your walls clenched around his fingers before they slipped out to rub your clit, helping you ride out yet another orgasm until you lay there panting heavily. Kiryu rested his head against one of your thighs after he lowered your legs slowly, his pants drenched in his own release just from witnessing yours.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you could squirt from a man playing with your pussy but Kiryu only started, eager to make you lose your mind with the way he has you like putty in his hands, the lines of friendship and more slowly blurring.

“You're so good for me,” his praise was gentle as his hand cupped your cheek, his eyes full with adoration when he looked down on you - perhaps you should have confessed your feelings for the pink-haired man long ago since they were obviously returned by him. But right now you didn't want to think about the conversation that sure would follow, you just wanted to be selfish a little while longer when he so badly wanted to make you feel good. Another time you would surely be allowed to return the favor...

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[waterlilychaser]

au where famous singer song writer james potter goes with his band mate sirius to see his brother dance in the new york city ballet. immediately entranced by his dancing, james begs his friend’s brother, one regulus black, to dance in their music video. although regulus haughtily informs him he is “classically trained in ballet technique, potter, not just any common commercial dancer” james is determined to get the boy to dance for him again. all while he’s trying to get regulus to be in the video, he works on writing the perfect song for him to dance to. spending time wearing regulus down, they start to really get to know one another, and the songs start to turn into more of a soundtrack for their budding friendship. they start to get deeper and more heartfelt as james tries to make music that encapsulates regulus as a person rather than just something he can dance to. they start to sound like love songs. when regulus finally gives in to james’s relentless requesting and agrees to dance in the video, james plays him the final song. regulus begins to improv just to see how the song feels to move to. as he absorbs the words and translates them into movement, he realizes every sound and feeling and gesture is saying the same thing. i love you. maybe james was the one who wrote it, but regulus is the one saying it with his whole body. and he realizes he means it. before the song has even ended, regulus stops dancing and walks over to james. sitting wide eyed watching. just as entranced as the first time. and when regulus takes his face in his hands and pulls him up to kiss him, he swears his whole world shakes. like the beat of music or move of a dancer. like the two of them were meant to be just like this.

[writing-fanics]

When somebody loved me

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

You smiled as you flew through the skies with Lucifer, holding hands. Giggling and laughing, and you two flew through the skies. You loved spending time together soaring through the heavens together, dancing in the skies without a care in the world.

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

And when he was sad

I was there to dry his tears

You wiped away his tears and smiled at him, hopefully as he sniffled. He placed his hand over yours and leaned into your touch. He looked at you and smiled, he was lucky to have you by his side.

And when he was happy, so was I

You giggled, as he showed you his magic and his wondrous ideas your eyes lighting up in wonder. You wanted nothing more than his dreams to become a reality.

For you to be by his side to help him achieve his dreams. Because you loved him more than anything. He sat down beside you and placed your head on his shoulder, your hand over his closing your eyes as he gently rubbed the back for your hand.

When he loved me

Through the summer and the fall

You giggled as you jumped into a pile of leaves, like a little kid. Leaves falling around you as you jumped in the giant pile of leaves. Lucifer watched you with a smile, you were always so carefree and filled with joy.

We had each other, that was all

Just he and I together

He kissed you on the lips as the leaves fell around you. You giggled, as you kissed him back wrapping your arms around his neck.

Like it was meant to be

And when he was lonely

I was there to comfort him

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. As you comforted him running your fingers through his hair as you listened to him talk. He loved that about you how you’d listen to him. He was lucky to have you as a partner and he loved you for that.

And I knew that

He loved me

So the years went by

Lucifer seemed to start going to the garden of Eden, a lot more often you thought it was for the new creation that the angels were working on. You didn’t know but he seemed to drift away further and further, while you stayed there on that hill waiting for him after finishing work.

When he would come back he’d be tired, and barely wanna spend time with you leaving you feeling understandable yet sad.

I stayed the same

But he began to drift away

You sat there alone on the hill sadly, Lucifer was becoming busier and busier. Slowly drifting further and further away, spending less and less time with you.

Before you could even speak he swiftly left you there standing alone, your hands falling to your side.

I was left alone

Still, I waited for the day

When he'd say, "I will always love you"

Lonely and forgotten

It was your anniversary and he still hadn’t returned, you missed him. Yet you were hopeful waiting for him everyday as he spent time in the garden, doing who knows what.

Never thought he'd look my way

And he smiled at me and held me

You say there alone hoping that he'd come back to you, and you'd feel his arms around you. But he was busy doing whatever he was doing. You missed him, and as you played with the ring around your finger. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

You smiled as he hugged you and you closed your eyes, smiling at the familiar warmth. That you so greatly missed, you nuzzled your head into the crook of your neck. You didn’t want to let go thinking that he’d leave you again. You didn't know this hug was a hug goodbye.

Just like he used to do

Like he loved me

When he loved me

You stared at him with a blank stare, as he was beginning judge for his actions. His crimes against Heaven, for bringing evil into the world. Because of him wanting to give free will to humans.

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

As you stood there, your mind in a complete state of shock, you found yourself unable to process everything that was happening around you.

The words he spoke seemed to echo in your ears, but they didn't quite register in your mind. All you could do was stare at him, your heart aching with the realization that he no longer loved you in the same way that he used to.

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

The memories of the past flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but wish that you could go back in time and relive those beautiful moments when his love for you was pure and unadulterated.

Despite the pain, your heart continued to beat for him, and you knew deep down that you would always love him, no matter what.

As the weight of everything you were experiencing became too heavy to bear, your eyes began to fill with tears and a lump formed in your throat as you tried to swallow.

You found yourself sitting alone on top of a hill, your knees pulled up to your chest as you sobbed uncontrollably.

The tears streamed down your face, leaving behind a trail of sadness and despair. You looked around, but there was no one to comfort you, no one to dry your tears, and no one to share your pain. The world seemed bleak and hopeless, and you felt lost and alone, drowning in your emotions.

When he loved me

[wonderlandwalker]

Shining Bright | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You and James reunite after the winter holiday, reminiscing old memories and stumbling into new ones. Except Sirius doesn't know you're dating yet, and James is not particularly good at hiding it anymore.

Content Warnings/Tags: Smut, fluff, angst kinda idk, Reader is Sirius' sister (how do I even tag that), 18+, hinting at abuse, simping, traumatizing bystanders, not proofread just go with it, no use of y/n, ignore any plotholes

Word Count: 4.0k

A/n: I listened to the hazbin hotel soundtrack on repeat while writing and I'm praying it doesn't show. This was gonna make this longer but then I got impatient so lemme know if you'd like more. Not kidding when I say it's not proofread this came straight out of my notes so sorry for any mistakes, will come back later to fix them xx

The black family siblings were all as bright as the stars they were named after, James knew this for a fact. Sirius was the brightest star in the night sky, scorching others with his light in a way you couldn't look away from even if you wanted to. Regulus, not as blinding as his brother, but shining in his own right amongst those who took the effort to look for the constellation he carried with him. And you, you were a puzzle James couldn't yet solve, the light luring him in like that spark people spend their lives looking for, never sure if they'll ever get to hold it.

After Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor in his first year, your parents had been very strict about who you socialized with, not wanting any further damage to the oh so carefully crafted family image. Not that it mattered, you and Sirius found plenty of ways to talk, most people didnt care enough to snitch and the ones who did were familiar enough with what you both were capable of to watch their tongues. Sirius was more loud and proud in his defiance, living up to his namesake in the sky, but you were better at hiding it, playing into the part people expected. Yes, Sirius was a fallen star, and your parents had worried he’d drag you with him, but you only shined brighter in his absence, trying to make up for the light lost as if something wasnt permanently dimming it.

And that's exactly what he was worried about right now, because you were never really yourself after a holiday at the Black family manor, always a part of you left behind, a part dimmed. But James was your sun, always there shining bright enough to ignore anything else, because with his light you were never truly dulled. He had missed you, he had missed you so much, your relationship was fresh, but he had been head over heels from the first time you kissed. He had been replaying the memory in his head so often he could almost see it. 

You were slytherin’s head girl, just as he was gryfindoors head boy, and you had run into each other while doing rounds of the hallways. Typically this would be a job for the prefects, but for some reason the both of you had decided to take over their duties for the evening, you called it luck, James called it destiny.

It was simply banter while walking down the halls, and it was mostly at James’ expense, but he wouldn’t trade the moment for anything. He was loud with his body, moving his hands as he talked and sometimes kicking his feet ahead of him, but you were more quiet, more calculated. So James did what he always did, talk. “I had a dream once about a glass of strawberry lemonde except it was only as big as my pinky finger, and there was this duck who tried to keep stealing it from me.” You stop in your tracks as he finishes his rant, staring right at him. “Oh my god, I had the exact same dream.” “Really?” his eyes were wide as he saw your face change.

“Are you crazy, of course I didn’t.” You fell back into step and he hurriedly caught up with you again. “Well you never know, Sirius and I have the same dreams sometimes, I mean we’re basically brothers-”

“Does that make me basically your sister?” Your eyebrows were raised at him as you asked your question, and he had to do his best not to trip over his own feet as he answered.

“What, no!-” his face had turned bright red rather quickly, and you would probably never admit this to him, but you had found it quite endearing. “I don’t, I just don’t think of you as a sister, definitely not a sister.” Somehow you had turned him into a nervous wreck in under a minute, and you were quickly getting addicted to the effect you had on him, letting him tumble over his words further.

“Like, if I married you, Sirius would be my brother but you wouldnt be my sister, you know. Those two things don’t have to go togethe-” his thoughts slowly trailed off as he turned his head to look at you, a bright smile now evident on your face, and if this is how your face lit up, he’d gladly make a fool of himself for the rest of his life. “You’ve been thinking about marrying me?” Your head was turned up towards him, challenging him to continue his train of thought. He looked frantically around him as if searching for an answer, hiping the right thing to say would magically appear, but of course it didnt. “What, of course not, I don’t wanny marry you. Wait- no i mean, hypothetically I would but-” “You can relax James, I’m just messing with you” Your shoulders were slightly shaking, suppressing laughter he was desperate to hear. “Right” The tension seeped out of him right as he started laughing himself, and it was so infectious you couldnt help but join him in it.

The two of you fell into an effortless silence as you continued, and James was about to break it before you beat him to the punch. 

“You know, right now would be a great moment to kiss me” he was sure he would get whiplash from the way his head turned towards you. The look on your face didnt give anything away, and for a moment he had wondered if he had made it up. “If that's the sort of thing you’d want to do” you were looking down at your shoes now, roles reversed as you had become the nervous one, and for another moment he just stared at the blush creeping up on your face before he realised he should probably say something, anything. 

“Don’t you think this is wrong? '' Alright, maybe that wasnt the right something to say, but he genuinely pondered before you put his worries to rest. “dont you think that’s up to us to decide?” You were looking up to him now, eyes enchanting him with a single glance.

“If Sirius finds out-” “I won’t tell if you don’t”

“Well- “James, do you want to kiss me or not?” “Merlin, yes.” with that the last of James’ self control was lost, and he pushed you into the wall behind you as his lips found yours, dedicated to explore you for as long as youd let him. You melted into the kiss just as quickly, leaning your body into him as he pressed up against you. James was eager with everything he did, and this was no exception. His hands didnt know where to go, never staying still for long as they roamed your body, you couldve sworn they were little rays of sunshine, lighting you up everywhere he touched. Your own hands found their way to the nape of his neck, tugging at some hair, resulting in a small moan leaving him, and after the taste you were desperate for more. James found himself in a similar situation, completely forgetting his surroundings as his mouth made its way to your neck, trailing kisses down from by your ear to your pulse point until you were silently moaning his name, begging him not to stop, not that he’d ever dare to. 

He continued his assault on your neck, his hands trailing up higher and higher underneath your shirt, longing to feel more of you, you tugged at his hair again and led him back to your face, connecting your lips once more, this time more sloppy, your patience completely gone. 

James was ready to drop to his knees for you, and he would have if he didnt hear someone nearly shriek behind him. He turned around, coming face to face with a second year Hufflepuff who looked close to fainting, stuck in place at the corner she had just turned. 

“Shit” he mumbled as he leaped forward, not sure whether to comfort the girl or scold her for being out past curfew. As James looked back at you you were close to losing it, and he couldnt deny the humour of the situation himself. In the end the two of you walked the girl back to her common room, not too worried about the situation with how in shock she seemed to be.

So yes, winter break had left him simply wishing to be near you again, and now he was so close he could almost already feel you in his arms again. He had debated telling Sirius, it would be so much easier, since he had moved in with the Potters a while ago and James was struggling to keep his yearning for you to himself, he was sure his parents had figured it out already, but simply choose to let him deal with it on his own for now. Everytime you send Sirius an owl he wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him, hoping that information about you would fall out like loose change.But he knew Sirius couldn't know, he knew that. Everyone assumes it's James who can't keep a secret, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, but really that's only because he's never really had  a reason not to. Truly, it was Sirius who couldn't keep a thing to himself, once he knew, half of Hogwarts knew, he just couldn't stop himself from talking about the things that excited him, which was one of the qualities James so adored, but not one which would play in your favour at the moment. 

You were still living with your parents, still subject to their ways and while James had begged you to come live with him as well, you were hesitant. Hesitant to leave Regulus behind, hesitant to leave the life you had grown so accustomed to, even if it wasn't a good one. The both of you knew your parents would never approve, sure, James held the pureblood status, but it had lost its value the moment he harboured Sirius.

And so when the winter holiday came to an end and they once again reached Hogwarts, James was the embodiment of pure excitement. He was glad no one was questioning it, most likely brushing it off as joy at reuniting with his friends, which wasn't entirely untrue. 

For a little while he truly got lost in seeing everyone again, trading stories with Remus and Peter about what they had been up to, discussing pranks that needed to be set ij motion to make up for lost time, but when the start of term party took place and he walked down to the common room with the others he froze in his tracks, because there you were. For a split second he wondered if it had been a dream, he had been having them so often now, but Sirius rushed past him to envelop you in a hig so tight you spilled half of your drink over yourself, cursing at him in such a soft tone of endearment as you hugged him back.

"I've missed you, you know" Sirius was beaming at you, doing a quick double check of you, something James used to not think much about until je started doing it himself after he found the strange bruises none of you dared to speak of. 

"Yes Siri, I do know" you chuckled back at him, and in that moment all the worry disappeared.

"I've missed you too" 

The rest of the group caught up with the two of you, and it was Remus who first spoke

"It's good to see you back" he acknowledged with a small nod, not one for big gestures, but you had all learned it truly was the thought that counts.

"It's good to be back, now if you'll excuse me, I have to go change so there's no longer firewhiskey all over my shirt" You gave a pointed look at Sirius, but his antics were nothing new to you.

"Just use one of my sweaters so you don't have to go all the way back to the slytherin dorms, I have some extras upstairs" sirius nudged his head towards the stairs, you gave him a final hug as you moved to take him up on his offer.

As you walked by him James could smell the blend of vanilla and rosemary that was still there despite the liquor, it intoxicated him like a drug he was already hooked on, finally getting a fix of it after so long apart, and he had to remind himself not to grab you and kiss you right then and there. 

You disappeared from his sight as you went up to the dorms and it only took another second for James' brain to spring to action.

"I gotta go" 

"What, why? We just got here" he knew he would need a better excuse, but the fuses in his head weren't connecting.

" forgot my wand" is what splurged out

"Why would you need your wand we're-" thankfully it was Sirius's short attention span that came to the rescue, because the moment he saw Marlene he made a beeline to go see her. James wondered if he had it in him to explain his actions to Peter and Remus, but neither of them seemed to mind much, so he sprinted off to the stairs as well.

As soon as he got to his dorm, he reminded himself to knock, not wanting to startle you.

"Merlin Sirius, how am I meant to find anything in this mess?" James creaked the door open to see you rummaging through your brother's trunk, still looking for the sweater you had come up here to find.

"Why don't you just wear one of mine" even the idea of it already made James's head dizzy. Your head spun around as soon as you heard his voice, and for a moment the two of you simply stood there, looking at each other like a long lost treasure. But it didn't last long, because right after James crossed the room in record time, he took you in his arms, connecting his lips with yours as if you were his last source of oxygen. The kiss was heated and filled with lust from the both of you, and James could finally let himself go, finally let his thoughts out and make them reality once more.

That’s why he decided not to waste any more time as he gently nudged you towards his bed, making sure you wouldnt hit the headboard as the both of you laid down. He remembered the path he was trailing down your neck with his eyes closed, had remembered the way your breath hitched and your hips squirmed everytime he did so. All he had to do was follow the same signs and you were a mess underneath him in no time. His hands made their way up underneath your skirt, massaging the skin underneath his fingertips as he heard you moaning out his name, pleading for him to keep going, and he was more than happy to fullfill your request. He continued his way down until he came face to face with your whiskey stained shirt, not thinking twice before taking it off you, but from how you were quick to connect his lips with yours once more you didnt seem to mind. But James was a man on a mission, and it was not one he was willing to abandon. So he willed himself to ignore the whine that left you as he moved away from the kiss, knowing you’d forgive him for it soon enough.

He found his way to your chest and took in the sight for sore eyes you were to him, once again glowing underneath him. He was starting to suck bruises onto your skin, love marks he knew only he would see, and when he would next time he’d be just as eager to leave even more of them behind. Having you like this again, feeling the heat of your skin against him, your hands tugging at his curls as he could hear more and more moans slip out of you, it got him hard in his trousers simply thinking about all the things you’d let him do to you, all the things he’d do for you. He was rutting his hips into the mattress, desperate for the friction of it, his hands krept up further towards your cunt, inching further up until he could slide your underwear to the side and feel just how wet you were for him. His mouth was still busy on your chest as one of his fingers found its way inside of you, making you arch your back towards him. “Fuck darling, your pussy feels just as good as I remember” You wanted to reply to him, telling him how good he felt inside of you, his long hands reaching places you never could on your own, but your words failed you as just another moan left you, your exterior having crumbled down in a matter of minutes thanks to the one and only James Potter, but he seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“I know baby, I’ll take good care of you don’t worry”

He had never broken a promise before, and he wasn’t about to start now, he added a second finger, crooking them inside of you towards the one spot that would turn your vision white as if you were staring straight into the sun itself. If this had been any other moment you might have been embarrassed about how fast you were starting to reach your high, but James wasnt the only one who had been waiting for this, dreaming about seeing each other again, counting down the days. It took him only a little while longer, encouraged only further by your laboured breathing until he was sure he was about to reach his own climax simply from the sounds you were making underneath him as he coaxed you through it. But he didnt give you much time to recover, not letting you catch your breath as he went further down the bed until he could start kissing your thighs, giving in to the urge to bite some of the fat leading up to your cunt, it made you produce a small shriek, and it encouraged him even further.

So he wasted no more time, attaching his lips to your clit and lapping at it like a man starved, wanting to make you cum again, wondering how fast he could make you come undone again. His tongue hungrily took in all the juices from your previous orgasm and from the next one creeping closer and closer. His nose kept bumping against your clit as his mouth was now on your opening, not quite reaching the spots his finger could but oh so heavenly in a whole other way. He was dangerously close to his own high now, rather sure he’d reach it the moment you started spasming underneath him from the overstimulation. But he wasnt letting down just yet, doubling down on his efforts as he felt you grow restless, gracing his ears with whimpers and whispers reserved only for him. He could tell you were about to tip over the edge, knew you and your body well enough by now to see the signs before you even registered them yourself. “You can let go, I’ve got you” he accentuated his words with a soft squeeze to your inner thighs as he could feel you melt into him and took everything you would give him. 

“I’m pretty sure you just beat your record” you were breathless but you were already softly giggling as a wide smile broke on his face, proud of himself for his endeavors but furthemore proud of how he had been able to get you to let your walls down around him, how you had let him help you disassemble them brick by brick with each passing day. It was still early in the relationship, but James had never been so sure as to the fact that he loved you, because your presence made him shine even brighter than he already did, and he wasnt sure how much longer he could keep it contained. He moved back up the bed, caging you in with his arms as he leaned down to kiss you, no longer hurriedly or messy, but soft and delicate like the first rays of morning light.

Just as he did so however, someone came barelling in the room, and James cursed himself for not having locked it. 

“You better not be cutting one of my shirts into a tank-top again- holy fuck” Sirius very nearly landed face first into the hard wood flooring as he caught sight of the two of you before he he steadied himself on the dresser. The both of you shot up from your positions on the bed, and, ironically enough, approached him as one would a startled deer. “What in Merlin’s beard were you two just doing” He looked as if he was contemplating life itself, and you almost felt bad for him

“What, nothing, you’re drunk-” James tried to defend, but you were rather sure there was no way out of this one.

“I’m not drunk, I’m sober and that's the problem” He was flailing his hands around now, and it was hard to suppress the laugh bubbling its way up your throat. 

“Don’t laugh, this is not a situation to laugh at” he was trying to be stern, but it didnt quite suit him. 

“It’s alright Sirius, James and I have been seeing each other for a little while now” He was no longer shocked, no, his current expression better resembled being offended.

“And neither of you told me” he was nearly shouting now, but the party downstairs was loud enough that it didn’t really matter anyway.

“We haven’t told anyone, and youre not exactly the best at keeping secrets.”

“Excuse me, I’m great at keeping secrets, I never told you he’s had a crush on you since third year, but apparently I should have”

“Completely forgot I ever told you that” James’ shoulders had lost their tension as he stood next to you now, slowly reaching out for your hand.

“I will go now before either of you scar my eyes any further” Sirius said as he made his way back to the dorm door.

“Oi Moony, wait till you hear- fuck I can’t tell you” He had made a complete mood shift once more as he turned fuzzy, wanting to tell someone the news immediatly.

“It’s fine, Remus knows.” You tell him, interlacing your fingers with James’ in the meantime.

This time he looked betrayed again, halfway down the stairs already as you could hear him yelling. “You knew and didnt tell me?!” and it was faint, but you could make out Remus’ voice as well. “Of course I knew, I have eyes” The two of you looked at each other as he placed a simple kiss on top of your hair, a small gesture of affection that would become increasingly more common with time. He turned around briefly to grab something from his trunk  and before you could register it he had already asked, the shirt in his hand.

“Still gotta change your top, why don’t you take my jersey” It made your heart flutter as you slipped the item of clothing over your head and you went to follow Sirius downstairs, figuring this was as good a time as any to tell everyone.