#both when static and also especially when folding the finger

[jamiefartt]

run the world; part two.

masterlist, part 1.

pairings: Jamie Tartt x reader, a bit of Sam Obisanya x reader.

summary: as the striker for AFC Richmond's very first women's team, the pressure is on. you're desperate to bond with the men's team, especially their number 9. so when your captains make you two train together, you find special ways to make it fun for both of you.

words: 10.5k

warnings: nausea mentioned, no smut but sexual references, a looootta dialogue (sorry but I love it), mean Jamie and also mean reader oooh

———

the feeling of Jamie's fingers planted firmly between yours makes your skin red hot, and your arms suddenly stop shaking on your last push-up. with your ears ringing, you know your face is bright red as you forget to breathe for the last strain. Roy counts the last number, and Jamie's hand immediately pulls away from yours as he sits back on his knees. you fold through your elbows, collapsing flat onto the ground, your flushed chest cooling against the cold grass. fighting the urge to glance over at Jamie, you screw your eyes shut, taking deep breaths as you recover from the strenuous push-ups. twenty push-ups is easy, but with the slow speed Roy was counting at, you feel as if you did double that amount. your right hand clenches into a fist, the lingering feeling of Jamie's fingers touching yours making your nerve endings feel like static. why did he do that? it must have been on purpose, him having to outstretch his arm uncomfortably in order to reach you. but why?

"well done. take a quick water break," Roy says as he walks away from the two of you. you don't hear Jamie move to get up, but you can't keep your eyes closed forever, so you push yourself up and onto your knees. his legs are sprawled out in front of you, mud and grass coating his metal studs, and his arms hold his torso up as they're outstretched behind him. trying to avoid his gaze, you keep your eyes down as you reach up to tighten your ponytail. still, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin, and you know he's going to say something.

"ooh, y/n," Jamie starts.

"knew it," you mutter to yourself, squeezing one eye shut as you look up at him.

"I think you've had a bit of an accident." Jamie hisses through his teeth as he points at his own cheek. you quickly reach a hand to your face, wiping your cheek before looking at your fingers. you roll your eyes at him and grunt when you notice it's just some dirt, the irrational thought of it being dog shit leaving your mind just as quickly as it came. "you're the worst," you groan, standing up before jogging towards the dugout, heading straight for the walkway into the training centre. pushing open the door to the women's bathroom, you sigh deeply, wondering what the fuck just happened between you and Jamie. running the tap until the water heats up, you pull a paper towel from its dispenser before soaking it. as you bring it up to your cheek to wipe off the mud, you stare at the hand Jamie touched. it felt like electricity, like pins and needles, and like hot fire running through your veins all at the same time. maybe it was because you had been holding your weight for way too long, or maybe it was simply touch deprivation.

"y/n!" Gia bursts into the bathroom, making you jump and drop the wet paper in the sink with a slapping sound.

"fucking hell, Gia!" you shout at her, placing your hands on each side of the porcelain sink to stabilise yourself.

"how's it going?" she drags out her words, turning to the mirror to redo her hair. she smiles at you and raises her eyebrows suggestively, but when she sees your defeated expression, her face drops and concern clouds her eyes. she nudges you with her knee, her hands occupied as she twists her long hair into a bun, "what's up? did he say something?"

once again, you sigh deeply, too shy to look her in the eye as you think about how to word your thoughts; "no, no, nothing too crazy. he did talk about tying his dick to my tits, though. I have no idea what that was about-"

"oh," Gia laughs, "that was something Roy made them do in training one time! they, like, tied a red string to their dick and then connected it with another guy's dick and tried to play football. it was... kinda hot."

"okay, anyways," you grimace at the thought, disgusted with your best friend, and shake the image out of your head. you continue: "we were doing shooting drills and we made it a bit of a competition and it was actually quite fun, you know?"

"yes! holy shit! I did it! I need to tell Isaac," Gia yells, turning to leave the bathroom. you reach a hand out, grabbing hers to pull her back to face you. "Gia!" you yell, snapping her out of her blind excitement. "oh, right, sorry. continue," she clears her throat and sniffs, trying her best to act casual.

"it was a lot of fun until- basically, if we missed goal post we had to do push-ups together, right? so, Jamie missed and was such a fucking baby about it, and we were facing each other while we did them..."

"go on," Gia's eyes are wide, a smile growing on her lips as she stares at you.

"Jamie caught me checking out his arms- which you can't blame me for!" you say quickly, knowing Gia was about to interrupt you again, "and then when we were doing the last push-up he put his fingers between mine like this, see?" you demonstrate by interlocking your fingers, turning them to get the perspective right. "or, like, here," you pick up her hand, moving your fingers between hers to show her properly. Gia is completely silent, and you wonder if she just hasn't understood your explanation, but when your eyes flick up to hers, her face is frozen in shock. you roll your eyes and drop her hand, clapping in front of her face. her jaw is slack, and she doesn't blink at all until you poke her chest, dragging her back to earth.

"Gia, chill, it might have been an accident." you say, grabbing a new paper towel to dry the remaining water droplets off your cheek.

"an accident? are you fucking serious?"

"he was probably just trying to throw me off or something..." you reason, walking backwards to throw the tissues into the bin.

"y/n... really? he wanted contact with you- physical contact, and that isn't an easy mistake. this is great!"

"no! nothing about this is great! he's a dick, he was definitely just fucking with me. he saw me staring at his muscles, so what? Jamie's got such an ego, I bet he loved the attention."

"yeah he did..." Gia drawls, putting her hands on your shoulders and shaking you side to side. she cackles in your face, and the contagious sound forces a smile through your grumpy exterior. "there you go!" she chirps, "and even if he is just messing with you, just do it back! he's Jamie Tartt, it's okay to think he's fit-"

"I don't-" you protest, but Gia interrupts you again; "shut up. he could get any girl he wants, but I guarantee we can get him to chase you."

you scoff and huff a laugh at her words; "why would I want that?"

"because it's fun."

back on the pitch, you push away your nerves as you head back to Jamie and Roy. you continue your drills, taking shots from different angles to the goal, and you even kick it against Jamie on purpose during one of your turns. this time, when Roy makes you do push ups, you stay a safe distance away from him, keeping to yourself. if this was any other day, you'd find the repetitive drills boring, but you can't deny you're having a lot of fun with Jamie. of course, your constant competition is the main source of that fun, and with every mean or teasing jab you throw at each other, you find yourself enjoying the outlet. football always riles you up, anger and frustration taking over when you miss a goal or pass, but oddly enough, having someone to be unapologetically mean to helps. every time one of you hit the post, you call each other a rude name, or insult each other's skills, and you always count yourself successful when your words bring a small smile to Roy's face.

a whistle blows at the other side of the pitch, pulling you and Jamie out of a childish argument about how to best tie the laces of your boots. you pause mid-sentence, a finger still poking his chest from your back-and-forth bickering. he chuckles, bringing his hand up and wrapping it around yours before pushing it down; "that means I win." you glance down at your hands, his fingers still lightly holding on to you, before looking back up at his face. clenching your jaw, you huff a breath through your nose and pull your hand from his; "this isn't over, Tartt."

jogging away from him, you meet the rest of the team at the side of the field, everyone grouped together to listen to Isaac and Gia again. you find Sam, standing next to him; "hey Sam," you sigh, grateful to have a break from Jamie for some positive energy from Sam.

"hi, y/n, how was that?" he asks you, eyebrows arched as he awaits your answer.

"oh, you know... fucking awful." Sam laughs at your words, and you smile up at him as you shake your head.

"don't pretend it was all bad, y/n. you enjoyed checking me out didn't you?" Jamie's voice appears behind you, and you suck in your lips and close your eyes at the sound. dropping your head forward in defeat, you're scared to open your eyes and see Sam's face, so you whip around to look at Jamie instead. clearly, he caught up with you, and clearly, he has no desire to leave you alone before the next activity.

you cock your head to the side, squinting at Jamie with a challenging look in your eyes; "you wish I was checking you out, Jamie."

he pouts and throws his eyes to the sky, pretending to be deep in thought for a few seconds. he hums to himself as he crosses his arms; "I don't know..." you hold your breath as you await his next words, "you seemed to be doing it at Sam's restaurant too, and uhm, when else did- oh yeah, earlier before we even started training! you're a thirsty one,"

your hand comes up to your hair as you nervously fix your already-perfect ponytail, thinking of what to say to that. he isn't lying, but you also didn't think he'd noticed your particular admiration with his biceps. "yeah, yeah, as if," you mutter, hoping your tone seemed stern enough to get Jamie off your back. you turn back to Sam, looking up at him with a grimace, widening your eyes and shaking your head at him; "what an ego, right?" Sam squints at you skeptically, pouting his lips and nodding along, but you can easily tell he believes Jamie more than you.

"whistle!" Roy's loud voice interrupts your awkward silence, and you face forward and blow out a breath. the thick air is heavy between the three of you, and you can feel both of your shoulders brushing their arms ever so slightly, finally noticing just how close they are to you. you make no effort to move away, however, enjoying the warmth their presence gives you as the cold breeze hits your bare legs. cheeks flushing, you're kind of enjoying the buzz standing between them gives you; is this the chase that Gia was talking about? maybe this is the excitement you initially missed with Sam?

"we're about to play a full 90 minute game as if it was the real thing. we have a starting lineup, and a big list of subs, so-" Gia shouts.

"boys, I don't wanna see any fucking injuries before this weekend, so don't be big men about it and just sit out when you need, understood?" the guys all hum in agreement, some of them saying a simple "yes captain."

"if I call your name, that means you're starting eleven for the bibs, so just stand to the side a bit," Gia continues, motioning a hand to the left of the crowd, "then, I'm gonna call out the subs. whoever's left will be the starters for shirts. everyone got that?" you nod at her words, and the others do the same amongst a chorus of yesses. once she's finished calling out the list, you're in the starting lineup for shirts, Sam beside you. the team is made up of a mix of the two teams, and the smirk on your face as you watch Jamie slip on a bib is priceless. Gia and Isaac know what they're doing, and you can't say you're complaining.

"dream team?" Sam leans down beside you, whispering in your ear. you turn to face him, sending him a quick wink; "you know it."

you all get into position, you and Jamie standing face-to-face in the middle of the pitch. Roy stands beside you two, holding the football under his arm. no captains have been assigned, so it's up to you and Jamie to flip the coin. you stare into his dark eyes, his pupils blown wide, reminding you of the way he looked at you as you were doing push-ups. lips parting slightly, your heart rate speeds up as you struggle keeping your eyes on his; his gaze is intense, completely unwavering as he looks at you. his smirk is subtle, but present, and you let your eyes flick to his lips for a split second. of course, Jamie notices the slight movement, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.

"heads." you say abruptly, pulling yourself from your staring competition with him. he sucks in a breath as he finally tears his eyes off yours to look at Roy, realising there's no opportunity for him to tease you any further. Jamie watches the coin as Roy tosses it in the air, but your eyes stay on his face, taking your chance to stare at him without being called out for it. dragging your eyes over his sharp features, you admire how smooth his skin is, wondering why such an idiot deserves such good genetics. just as Roy shouts "tails!" your eyes land on Jamie's lips again, and it's too late to look away as he turns to face you again. he leans forward, bringing his face close to yours; "you can kiss 'em if you let me win."

his teasing words make your nostrils flare in frustration as you bring a hand up, pushing it to the middle of his chest. the slight blow makes him take a step backwards, and he laughs out loud at your strop as you move out of the way for him to kick off the match. jaw clenched, you keep your eyes on the ball as he places it down. his feet drag backwards in the grass three times before tucking his loose shorts into his skin-tight undershorts. your eyes linger on his thighs, the deep lines highlighting his muscles. with your eyes glued on his legs, you watch as he runs and shoots the ball to his defenders. you hang back as Jamie's team charges forward, watching as he sprints towards your goal. it all goes so quickly, he catches up with the ball, intercepting a pass between your team and pelting it into the goal all within the first five minutes of the game. "offside!" you shout, but the ref, who's really one of your coaches, counts it as a goal.

and so begins the game, with an instant goal by Jamie. he couldn't be cockier about it, running across the pitch with his arms outstretched, Dani jumping on his back to celebrate. clearly your irritation is obvious, Sam jogging over to you and placing a hand on your arm to keep you close as he whispers in your ear. your eyes find Jamie's across the pitch as he stares at the two of you, no longer celebrating with his team. his mouth is turned down in a grimace, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully. Sam explains a tactic to you, making sure you understand which play you're going to do. apparently, it's one the men do all the time, and that's exactly why they won't be expecting you to do it.

with the ball back in play, your team immediately snatches it from the bibs. making its way down the pitch, everyone is quick on their feet, and you run aimless circles trying to get in the way of the others. the ball is passed to Sam, and as he runs towards you, you start asking for the ball; "yeah, Sam, here! pass it!" defenders are on you instantly, all crowding around you as you run towards the goal. instead of passing it to you, however, Sam makes a sudden shoot for the goal, aiming for the corner of the net. his kick is sharp and fast, the ball flying through the air at a rapid pace before crashing straight into the goal. he sprints towards you with his arms open, and you run straight into them to hug him. your team runs up behind you, all crowding around you and jumping up and down as you all celebrate.

"our false nine!" Ted screams across the pitch, "yes, y/n! that's exactly how you do it!" he runs over to you and Sam, giving you both a fist bump. "hey, Jamie, take notes buddy." he says with a delighted smile before strolling back to the side of the pitch, hands deep in the pockets of his khakis. you widen your eyes at Jamie, holding your fingers in an L-shape and bringing it to your forehead, sticking out your tongue again for added effect. it seems he took it to heart, immediately huddling his team together to discuss plays. you and Sam do the same, but decide with your team to just have fun with it and play as well as you can.

with five minutes left before half-time, you're nearly ready to sub someone else in for your position, the exhaustion and cold suddenly hitting you deep in your bones. the game is red hot, everyone running on pure adrenaline. right before making your second goal of the game, you lose the ball to the opposition, but decide to use your last bit of energy to burst to the middle of the pitch, desperate to get that ball back. they pass it to Jamie, and you narrow your eyes as you chase him. technically, it's up to the others to get the ball off him, but as you watch the ball rolling at his feet, your rivalry trumps the way of the game. sprinting as hard as you possible can, the cold air pulls tears from your eyes as the wind hits you, and you can see your teammates following you in your peripheral; perfect. you push through three powerful strides until you're right on Jamie's heels. using all your force, you slide a foot in front of him, aiming more for his feet than the ball. you trip him up perfectly, and he comes crashing down as the ball rolls ahead of him. whilst you fall to the ground, you see one of your teammates get possession of the ball, immediately passing it back down the pitch.

after landing on the ground on your side, you push yourself up, leaning on your arm to see Jamie lying flat on his back in front of you. his legs are sprawled in front of him, hands coming up to his face and rubbing it in frustration. as he sits up, he smacks the ground, grunting loudly. you throw your head back and cackle as pure adrenaline flows through your veins. whilst catching your breath from your crazy sprint, you force yourself onto your feet, and you stumble over to Jamie with a tired huff, looking down at him with a smug smile. reaching a hand out for him to take, you hear loud cheers and screams erupt behind you, but you don't need to check to know your team scored.

"I win?" you ask Jamie, who squints up at you with one eye shut. he's taking his time to stare at you, so you raise your eyebrows at him in question, and with a deep sigh, he finally lifts up his hand, grabbing yours. you pull him up to his feet, smile smug.

"you win," he sighs, dropping your hand and brushing the grass off his clothes. his face is stone cold, eyes avoiding yours. you move your head to try to catch his gaze, but he quickly turns away from you, walking off the pitch. his shoulders are hunched with his head down, keeping his eyes on the ground as he walks.

"wait, sorry, what was that? I don't think I heard you right," you attempt to tease him, jogging behind him. he ignores you, so you reach a hand up to his shoulder trying to get his attention. Jamie turns to you abruptly, shrugging your hand from his shoulder before catching it with his hand before pulling you into his chest. your smile drops in surprise as a smirk appears on his face again, and your breath hitches in your throat as you crash against him. your legs are too tired to hold you up, so he quickly wraps a hand around your waist, holding you close to him. completely taken aback, you don't have it in you to push him away, instead looking up at him with wide, stunned eyes.

Jamie leans down, placing his mouth right beside your ear. his breath fanning your skin makes goosebumps appear, and you struggle to keep breathing at the feeling. "you win, y/n." his voice is sultry and low, and your hand being held against his chest lets you feel the vibrations rumble through him. your knees threaten to buckle, but you dig your studs into the grass beneath you as he lets go of your waist. you're speechless and breathless at the same time, and the feeling of his arm around you leaves your skin tingling. his hand lingers on the hand he's holding for just a beat too long, and you quickly pull it away from him, reaching your hands up to run them over your hair awkwardly. "okay. thank you, Jamie," you sputter before turning on your heel and walking off the pitch, hearing your blood pumping through your veins as your legs carry you straight towards Roy.

"just sub someone in for me, I need to- uhm... take a shit?" you say unconvincingly, and Roy bites back a smile as he stares down at you. you stick to your guns, popping your hip with a hand on your side as you keep your eyes on his.

"and this shit... is it going to take you until the end of the second half?" he asks you, voice pitching as he holds back his laughter.

"yes, coach." your statement is simple, and you hold your mouth in a straight line as you await his response.

"alright, you're off the hook. have a good shit." he gives you a curt nod.

"thank you, coach." you nod back before letting your legs carry you inside and straight for the stairs. taking two stairs at once, you fly up them, running for the door to your changing room.

stumbling towards the bench in front of your name and number, you drop down onto it, knees wobbling under your weight. you release the longest breath you can, placing both hands on the edge of the bench beneath you in a poor attempt to ground yourself. your skin feels like it's on fire, and the sudden warmth after being outside for so long makes you start to overheat. you stand up, completely overwhelmed by the adrenaline, pulling your long sleeved top off as fast as you can. you push both of your socks down, trying to cool your skin as much as possible. your hands fan your face as you huff deep breaths in and out. pacing up and down the room, your mind races with everything Jamie Tartt; the way his hand gripped yours, and the way he held you up with just one arm around your waist, how dark his eyes looked when he caught you checking him out, and especially the way he looked so up close. his tanned skin looked smooth and soft, and the image of his strong fingers between yours makes your vision blur. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly lowering yourself back to your seat as you picture his face close to yours. you feel your mind beginning to drift even further, but you don't let it, sitting yourself down again and looking up at the ceiling.

"he's a prick, he's a prick, he's a prick," you repeat quietly over and over, pulling yourself away from the hot spiral your mind is approaching.

"y/n?!" you jump at the sound of Gia's loud voice interrupting your mantra, "Roy said you were shitting..."

"oh my god-" embarrassment hits you like a truck, hands flying up to cover your face.

"fucking hell, y/n. you're, like, bright red and topless... are you okay?"

"yeah, I mean, I don't know if it's the adrenaline or what, but, I don't think I can do any more today," your defeat clear in your weak voice, you drop your hands to your lap and look down at your fingers, pins and needles running through them as you recover from being in the cold.

"ew, okay, go home for today. I'll see you later, just get some rest, yeah?" you nod quickly, suddenly feeling a confusing nausea kicking in at the sheer memory of how Jamie's hard chest felt against your hand. as you shake the thought from your head, you feel the need to tell Gia: "I wasn't actually shitting, just so you know."

"jesus, y/n," she shakes her head at you, walking towards where you're sitting. she squats down in front of you, placing two hands on your knees and looking at you with caring eyes. "go home and take a nice cool bath, yeah? relax and calm down... and I just wanna say," her face goes from sweet to serious as she looks directly in your eyes, "the way you played today made me realise what an honour it is to be your captain. I haven't seen you like that since we were teenagers, y/n. each kick against that ball carried so much talent, and passion, and you were just having so much fun."

you give her a weak, lopsided smile, rolling your eyes slightly. she squeezes your knees before looking down and untying your boots for you; "Gia, you don't have to-"

"anything for my striker," she whispers to you with a wink, "I will literally do anything to keep you enjoying football the way you did today."

"I won't lie to you," you start, "training with Jamie definitely helped," you aren't proud to admit it, and you aren't trying to give him kudos for anything, but your constant quarreling added a new fuel to your old fire. even in simple drills, your motivation to win was doubled, and the satisfaction you felt whenever you beat Jamie was almost greater than winning a match -- but you would never admit all that to anybody.

"I can tell," Gia says, raising her eyebrows at you before pushing herself back, "now, get yourself an uber home. I'll see you later."

you do exactly that, getting straight into an uber without even changing out of your training kit. when you get home, you struggle up the stairs, your legs trying their hardest to keep you up. you start running your bath and pull off your muddy clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom tiles. as you light your favourite candle, you stare into the flame. the adrenaline from training has worn off, but despite the exhaustion settling deep in your bones, you can still remember exactly how all of your heightened senses felt. during drills with Roy, every time your kick hit a goal post, your heart soared. even though you used to play that game with Gia all the time when you were in school, something about the way you held your breath as the ball floated through the air made it all the more rewarding. the suspense and the competition made your blood pump faster, Jamie being a key component to that feeling. you even found yourself clapping for him when he made an impressive kick, and he did the same for you. you don't take each other seriously, and maybe that's the secret to keeping football so fun.

after your bath, your body is entirely relaxed, the weightless feeling of the water bringing a sweet relief to your tired legs. wrapped in your towel, you head down the hallway towards you room. as you pass the stairwell you call a loud "hello?" down to the rest of the house, but there's no answer. with a satisfied smile, you continue into your room, dropping your towel. after grabbing your pyjama bottoms, you throw on a tank top before standing in front of your mirror. you take your time with your skincare as your hair dries, giving yourself some much-needed tlc. whilst staring at your reflection, you can't wipe the smile from your face; all the excitement and energy from today has transformed into pure contentment.

in your slippers, you skip down the stairs, heading straight to the kitchen. thank god for your lazy sunday takeouts, because all it takes is heating up some leftovers for you to have dinner set for the evening. you get comfortable on your small sofa, plate in hand, as you turn the tv on to an old episode of your favourite comfort show. kicking your feet up, you stretch your legs over the other couch cushion, feeling an ache in your muscles similar to those after you've just played a real match. the food warms your bones, and your laughter floods the room even though you could recite this episode from memory if asked to.

walking across the room to the kitchen, you drop your plate in the sink before opening the fridge, bending down as you study what you and Gia have in there. grabbing a cold juice pouch, you laugh at another joke on the television, piercing the straw through the plastic as you head back to the comfy couch. dropping yourself on it, you sigh to yourself, staring at the tv screen as your mind drifts again. a blush creeps up your face as slight embarrassment takes over your thoughts, remembering how Roy saw you checking Jamie out at training. Jamie noticing you doing it was bad, but it's somehow even worse that third person was just watching it all from above. the genuine smile you saw on Jamie's face was something you didn't think you'd ever get to witness with your own two eyes. when it was just you two mucking about during your practice drills, there were a few moments when his smile wasn't cocky, or at your expense, but he would just look genuinely proud of himself.

car headlights shine through the front window of the house, and you pause your show, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch. you crook your neck back and to the side, trying to see Gia walking in the door behind you. you hear chatter as she approaches, assuming Isaac is with her, and when she unlocks the door, you were right. behind her is Isaac, and you begin to smile until you see who they've brought home with them.

"what the fuck?" you sputter, quickly sitting up straight and running your hands over your tied-up hair. Jamie saunters in behind Isaac, ignoring you as he slips his shoes off at the door.

"how are you feeling now?" Gia asks sweetly, ignoring your shocked expression at the sight of Jamie Tartt standing in your living room. she drops herself into one of the bean bags across the couch, Isaac sitting one the one next to her.

"I was feeling great until now!" you exclaim, holding a hand out towards Jamie as you look between Gia and Isaac angrily. he's standing at the door with his arms crossed over chest, clearly unsure of what to do.

"Jamie, please come sit down," Gia beckons towards the sofa with a friendly smile, direclty contrasting your not-so-welcoming face.

"uh, where?" he asks, an unfamiliar shyness to his voice.

Gia raises her eyebrows at you, nodding her head towards your spread out legs. you huff and roll your eyes as you fold your legs beneath yourself, sitting criss-cross on the left side of the sofa. without saying anything, Jamie sheepishly walks over to you before sitting on the other cushion. suddenly, you regret ever buying the cozy two-seater, feeling Jamie's broad shoulders brush against yours as you both keep your arms crossed.

"so, we have gathered you here today to witness the joining of two lives," Isaac says with a serious voice, brow low as usual.

"Roy spoke to us after training today, basically proposing a bit of an idea for the two of you." Gia follows, and your eyes are stern as you flick them between her and Isaac. trying your best to look unfazed by Jamie's close proximity to you, the strong smell of his cologne makes that particularly difficult. it floods your senses, salty and fresh. it's the opposite of what you'd imagined, but it still suits him. you steal a glance at his man-spreaded legs, his black denim jeans tight around his thighs. you're not a big fan of his skinny jean look, but you really don't mind the way they hug his muscular legs.

Isaac continues; "Roy said that he thinks you two had a lot of fun training together today, and loved watching the flirty little rivalry you've got going on."

"woah!" you shout, holding your hands up in surrender, "we were not flirting."

"yeah, she was checking me out, not the other way around!" Jamie shakes his head and grimaces, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"I wasn't checking you out," you groan, looking over at him, "you're the one who offered to kiss me!"

he scoffs at you, sitting up straight as he says: "that is not what happened." with raised eyebrows, he looks at Isaac and Gia, now pointing at them too.

"okay, whatever, I don't care who wants to kiss who," Gia interrupts your protests, "we all think that you two should train and practice together outside of regular training. so, instead of going to the gym after trainings, you continue doing drills and stuff together."

the silence which falls over the room is deafening, you and Jamie matching in expressions as you stare at your captains with your jaws slack.

"train... with him?" you say, utterly confused by the suggestion.

"instead of the gym? what about my gains? Isaac, come on, you can't be serious," Jamie holds his hands out, acting completely helpless.

"sorry bruv, you can still get your reps in whenever you want, but we think you guys can really help each other get motivated and stuff." Isaac tries to smile at the two of you, bearing his teeth in a wide grin. but when he's met with your bored faces, he soon drops the expression.

"the next few games we have are... important, of course, but the stakes aren't too high. after last week's win the women have nothing to worry about, and I mean, the guys seem to be doing just fine, so," Gia rambles, using her hands to emphasise her point. she sighs, dropping her hands in her lap as she slumps her shoulders; "y/n, I haven't seen you play the way you did today in years, and you said it yourself Jamie-"

"stop!" you yelp, interrupting her mid-sentence holding your hands up in front of you as if physically stopping her. while you bite your lip, considering their proposal, you turn your head to look at Jamie and to your surprise, his eyes are already on you. he blinks quickly, looking down at the ground and reaching a hand up to rub his chin. you scan his face, letting your eyes run down his torso before landing on the same place on the ground he seems to be staring at. fingers pulling nervously at the straps of your tank top, you chew on the inside of your cheeks. as you try to picture having to spend any more time alone with Jamie, you start shaking your head side-to-side. your eyes flick back up to Gia, a deep frown now appearing on your face; "no."

in your peripheral, you see Jamie's head snap to the side, eyes boring into the side of your face, but you can't make out his expression. Gia looks at you with a fed-up look in her eyes, and Isaac stays silent. you stare at your captain, emotionless, waiting for her to let you off the hook and send Jamie home. instead, he's the first one to say something, huffing at your words.

"pfft, why not?"

"why not? Jamie, you don't want to do this either," you spit out quickly, finally turning to look at him. your eyes meet, and you immediately notice how alert his eyes are, pupils blown wide.

"yeah, I mean, true... I just don't get why anyone wouldn't wanna spend time with me." he scoffs.

"jesus christ, Jamie," you roll your eyes at him, leaning back against the sofa and crossing your arms again. Isaac and Gia mirror you, both rolling their eyes at Jamie's narcissistic comment.

"listen, if I were getting paid to play football with a woman that would be a whole different story, but I'm not, so." with a shrug, he draws his mouth into a straight line.

"Jamie, your whole job is playing for Richmond," Isaac starts, "you get paid to train... what's the difference if you're training on your own or with y/n?" Isaac takes his explanation slow, squinting at Jamie as he does so.

"it's different 'cus..." Jamie replies, confident at first before his voice falters, his eyes darting around the room thinking of a valid reason. you stare at him expectantly, genuinely curious about what he'll come up with next, but he trails off, staying silent.

"oh! let me guess Jamie, it's because you're not into all that feminist shit, is that it? or is it because I won today? because I beat you, and you're too fucking insecure and egotistical to admit that sometimes you're not the only person out on that pitch who wants to win. how embarrassing for you," you say, standing up from where you're sitting and walking over to the kitchen in a huff. you keep your back turned to everyone as you stand at the sink, turning on the tap and running the water over your hands just so it looks like you're there with a purpose. the air is heavy as long seconds pass, and you're not sure exactly how long the room stays silent for.

"right," Jamie eventually sighs, slapping his hands on his thighs before pushing himself up from the sofa, "I'll be off then." you turn to face the room again, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Jamie, wait," Gia tries, but he holds a hand up to her as he pouts with a shake of his head, moving towards the door and slipping his trainers on.

"I'll give you a lift," Isaac mutters, struggling his way out of the beanbag before following Jamie out of the front door, still in his slippers.

hands still gripping the counter, you stare down at your feet, only slightly embarrassed by your little jab at Jamie.

"y/n, what the fuck?" Gia snaps as soon as the door clicks shut.

okay, maybe you're more than just a bit embarrassed. you hear Isaac's car rumble to life in the driveway, and you can feel Gia's eyees burn into you. you're suddenly too shy to look up at her, feeling your cheeks turn hot.

"you literally told me you had fun with Jamie! what was that all about?" she first sounds confused before fading into a more concerned tone. the care in her voice makes you look up at her slowly. pushing yourself away from the counter, you lift a hand up to rub your tired eyes before pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I know," you sigh deeply, "I just don't want him to know that." the corner of your lips quirks up for a split, but no real smile breaks through.

Gia sighs too, moving over to the sofa and sitting down where Jamie had previously been. she stares at you, a knowing look in her eyes, before patting the space beside her. you look away from her briefly, eyes glancing at the television, which is still showing the paused image of your abandoned tv show. shuffling towards her, she opens her arms for you, and when you sit down on the couch you lean into her. letting out a deep breath, your mind flashes with thoughts of Jamie for what feels like the tenth time today; his strong fingers between yours, how big his hand felt around your waist, the goosebumps on his neck as he watched the coin flip. your eyes flutter as you imagine his lips, how soft they looked despite the cold air, and the sound of his voice close to your ear. whenever you found yourself close to him, shoulder-to-shoulder on both the pitch and the couch, he always felt so warm. he radiates heat and electricity, your blood running hot even just thinking about him. whether that's in a good way or a bad way, you're not too sure.

"you don't fancy him, do you?"

"oh my god, Gia, no!" you laugh at her question, slapping her leg playfully.

"awe," she coos, "that's a shame. because I kinda think he has a bit of a thing for you."

you shoot up, leaning as far away from her as humanly possible as if it would remove you from that thought completely. you stare at her with your eyebrows arched, a mix of shock and disgust pitting in your stomach.

"wh- oh my god, ew," you shake your head, eyes darting around the room at a rapid pace as you consider her words, blinking fast, "why would you even think that?"

"I can see the way he looks at you, y/n. anyone can see he at least wants to shag you," Gia shrugs as if what she's saying doesn't absolutely repulse you. "what?" she asks you with a chuckle when you just stare at her blankly, "I bet you calling him insecure made him violently hard, and that's why he left so fast."

an unhinged laugh bursts out of your mouth at that, a hand flying up to cover it; "violently?! jesus christ," you both laugh together, the tension in the air dissipating as you continue joking about the idea.

"I mean, Jamie is physically fit, yeah," you explain to her, "and who wouldn't wanna say they've slept with a famous footballer?"

"exactly! why do you think I'm with Isaac?" both of you chuckle before you continue, "but I just don't think us spending any more time together would do anyone any good. today was great and it was exhilarating and fun, but honestly, I think the bickering will only lead to worse."

"you really think so?" Gia's eyes turn soft as she sounds hopeful in her question, "I know he was rude to you at the restaurant, but like... just think about it, y/n, please? for me and Isaac? things have been so stagnant in our teams- good, but stagnant, and I really think it would look good for the coaches if we can get you two on board with this."

you stare into her pleading eyes, completely understanding why she's asking this from you. when you all elected Gia captain, she was the happiest you'd ever seen her. all weekend you heard her on the phone to every family member and friend she could reach, sharing her good news. at every training, she absolutely glows, and her eyes still tear up a bit when anyone casually calls her 'captain'. being able to share her passion for football through her role in the team even multiplied when her and Isaac started going out, and you really wish you still had the same spark for the sport. but spending one-on-one time with Jamie Tartt of all people? if he was literally any nicer to you, it would be an honour to train with someone you admire so much. but now that you know him just that little bit more, enduring any more frustration and anger-inducing strops from him would drain you more than the actual training.

"you never know, maybe he could surprise you," Gia suggests, almost reading your mind.

"he's nice to look at Gia, not nice to talk to." you sigh.

"I don't know about that, y/n, Isaac wouldn't be friends with him if he hadn't cleaned his act up."

"but he hasn't cleaned anything up with me. it really seems like he's just got something against me personally," you hang your head as you nervously fidget with your fingers. what Jamie said at Ola's got to you more than you'd care to admit, even to your best friend.

"give him a second chance, y/n. who knows, it might be fun?"

when you lie down in bed that night, you try to distract your mind with seemingly endless tiktoks, but your brain feels too busy to even just doom scroll. you place your phone on your bedside table, turning over and hugging the soft duvet closer to your chest. your mind races back and forth, the word 'fun' running circles through it. there's nothing fun about being disrespected by someone you once admired, but the thought of being able to shamelessly annoy that same person does sound quite enjoyable. you wouldn't mind getting the excuse to stare at his impressive build some more, that sounds quite fun, but your stomach cramps at the memory of Jamie catching you multiple times. he caught you staring at his arms, his shoulders, his lips. you feel like a mess, head dizzying at the mixed messages you're sending yourself.

after some deep breaths and counting an absurd amount of sheep, you finally manage to meet sleep, but when you wake up early the next morning, deep exhaustion hits you. after turning off your alarm as fast as you can, you yawn so wide your ears pop, groaning to yourself as you dangle your legs off the bed. the cold morning air hits your body as you further climb out of the duvet, and you groan as pain sets into your muscles. "fucking hell," you mutter to yourself, not expecting the first minutes of the day to be so strenuous already. dragging yourself from the bed, you shuffle towards your bedroom window, squinting as you pull the curtains open. the sky is overcast, but still bright, despite the autumn sun having only just risen. you lean your forehead against the window, hoping the slight condensation forces your body awake, but it isn't the glass which shocks you into being alert, it's Jamie standing outside talking to Isaac.

he's leaning against his car casually, the hood of his blue hoodie pulled over his head and tied tightly with the strings. unlike his usual obnoxious fashion sense, he's wearing dark, loose joggers and runners. you stare a little bit longer, quite enjoying the view, until you realise you have no idea why he's at your house again. reaching up, you unlatch your window, pushing it open and leaning over the windowsill. "good morning boys," you call down to them, interrupting their conversation. they both look around, looking for where your voice came from, "up here." you say flatly, waving an unenthusiastic hand.

"good morning!" Isaac chirps, genuinely in a good mood.

"nice hair!" Jamie says with a smirk on his face, and you curse to yourself as you duck out of the window quickly. you glance at the mirror next to your bed, seeing your pony tail hanging on for dear life as your hair has folded in on itself in your sleep. you tug the hair tie out of it, leaving your hair down and messy as you appear back in the window.

"what is this prick doing here?" you ask Isaac, and a sudden shiver runs over your body as the cold really starts to bite you.

"he's giving us a lift to work," Isaac replies.

"why?" you snap.

"because he's a nice person." Isaac snaps back, holding his hands out beside him.

"yeah, so hurry up, woman, don't make me late." Jamie snaps as he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. slamming the window shut, you move quickly between your room and the bathroom, getting ready as fast you possibly can. you decide to leave your hair down on your way to training, a new choice since you normally always have your hair tied up for training. dressed in simple yoga pants and a hoodie, you grab your phone and rush down stairs. your gym bag is exactly where you left it at the front door, and you don't care to check what's in it before picking it up and pulling open your front door.

Gia has now joined Isaac and Jamie at the latter's car as they all chat. it's more a heated discussion than a simple morning chat, but you choose to ignore it. Jamie faces you, still leaning against the side of his fancy car, whilst the other two stand with their backs to you. you let your eyes rake over Jamie properly this time, stunned by how good he manages to look in such a low-effort outfit. the bagginess contrasts his usual too-tight jeans and tops, and you quite enjoy knowing the muscles underneath his clothes without seeing them almost ripping their seams. when the door clicks closed behind you, Jamie's eyes flick away from your friends, landing on you. he blinks a few times, tipping his head back as he drags his eyes down your frame before coming back up to your face.

Jamie seems to be well aware you can see him staring, but he still doesn't tear his eyes away from yours. Gia and Isaac don't seem to notice him staring, continuing whatever explanation they're giving Jamie, but he's definitely not listening. time moves in slow motion as you stare at each other. his fingers come up to untie the string of his hood, and you see his jaw clench as his neck becomes visible. waiting patiently for his next move, your in a bit of a daze, never breaking eye contact with him, even when he stuffs his hands into the pocket at the front of his light blue hoodie. Jamie licks his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, and your head tilts down slightly as your eyes focus on the movement. he lifts his lips into a smirk, the change in expression making you quickly look back up at his eyes.

"nice hair," he finally speaks, his tone more genuine than mocking like it was when you were in the window. this comment pulls Isaac and Gia out of their conversation, turning to see you standing on your front step, bag over your shoulder. "oh, finally. let's go!" Gia chirps as she begins walking around the car, completely oblivious as to what she just missed between you and Jamie. Isaac follows, walking to the other side to get in the passenger seat. despite the small smile on your face, you roll your eyes, pushing at the wooden door to make sure it's locked before walking towards the car. you walk right up to Jamie, looking up at him with your head cocked to the side; "thank you, Jamie. nice hoodie."

giving you a tight-lipped smile, he mirrors your tilted head, letting his eyes flick down to your lips. quickly darting his eyes back up to yours, his pupils completely dilate, regretting his seemingly accidental glance. smiling at the reflex, you furrow your brows teasingly, waiting for him to say something, anything, a sarcastic comment or stupid joke, but you get nothing in response. instead, Jamie awkwardly looks down at his shoes, pushing himself off his car and stepping aside to pull open his door. "wait," you say, hand involuntarily reachiing out and wrapping around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. you gulp nervously, dropping his arm almost as quickly as you grabbed it, before sighing. "I just wanted to say sorry for what I said yesterday, I didn't mean it."

"oh, I'm sorry, y/n... would you mind just quickly remindin' me what exactly you said?" Jamie crosses his arms as he pushes your buttons.

"look, I'm apologising because I'm trying to be nice to you so please don't make this harder than it already is." you sigh, placing a hand on your hip and popping it.

"sorry love, I don't think I can," he leans closer to you, and the heat of your breaths so close together makes a little puff of steam in the cold air.

huffing an annoyed sigh through your nose, you suck in your cheeks before saying: "Jamie," you start, and his eyes are on yours expectantly, "I'm very sorry for calling you insecure,"

"and?" he drawls, not making any move to distance himself from you, and you almost lose your thought at the smell of his amazing cologne again.

"insecure and egotistical," you add, turning to look up at your bedroom window simply so you don't have to look at Jamie. the two of you stand in silence for a few long seconds, and your eyes finally meet his again as you wait for his response. "okay, thank you, y/n." his voice is the same low tone as it was on the pitch yesterday, when you had your hand pressed to his chest, and the sound pulls your stomach into an excited twist. he doesn't drop your eye contact, so you decide to be the one to do it, grunting at him as you pull open the car door, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. the sound of his low laugh is cut off as you drop into his low car, pulling the door closed behind you.

squished behind the driver's seat, you're face is hidden behind your gym bag. you're grateful for it, not brave enough to face either Gia nor Jamie in the rearview mirror. you settle your gaze out the window, the pout on your lips remaining there during the whole drive. you don't actually feel bad for what you said to Jamie last night, but if apologising means getting Gia off your back, then it's worth it. you want her to excel as captain, and you want to help her do that any way you can, even if that means spending more time with Jamie than you'd like to.

when the car finally pulls into AFC Richmond's car park, you're the last to get out. Gia and Isaac rushed inside to see your coaches, leaving you and Jamie behind.

"coaches duties, I guess," you mutter as you watch them race into the training center, saying it more to yourself than to Jamie. he has one hand resting on the roof of his car and the other reaching out towards you. with a grimace plastered on your face, you look up at him with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by his gesture; "what?" you snap.

"so much for feminism," Jamie groans, rolling his eyes and sighing before jutting his hand closer to you. as if he's a child trying to show you a snail on his hand, you move back, shaking your head at him with the same confusion on your face. ducking his head down with another sigh, he drops his hand for a moment, smacking it against his leg.

"your bag," he says, clearly irritated, before bringing his hand out again, "can I carry your bag for you?"

"what the fuck?" you laugh loudly, attracting the attention of other staff making their way into the building. Jamie lifts his hand to give them a curt wave, sending them an awkward smile. as you clutch your stomach with laughter, you turn away from Jamie, making your way towards the door.

"what?" he whines, following close in your step, "I'm being serious! I'm trynna be nice here."

"Jamie, since when is it feminist to assume a lady needs her bag carried?" you push through the doors, smiling to yourself, knowing this is driving him nuts.

glancing back at him, you see him walking with his shoulder slumped, a bewildered look on his face; "I'm so confused," his words are surprisingly genuine, no more bitter edge to his tone.

"Jamie," you smile at him, stopping in the middle of the hallway to face him, "I'm fucking with you. but, no, over my dead body will I ever let you touch my stuff." you continue walking, speeding up your pace as you approach the staircase which leads to the women's locker room.

"you say that, y/n, but I was literally on your couch last night so..."

with your back still turned to him, you hold your tongue, simply rolling your eyes as you choose not to bite back.

"woah, Jamie, you went home with her last night?" is the last thing you hear someone say before sprinting up the stairs, again, ignoring it. whatever Jamie replies to that question would only make you angry, so you decide to tune it out and be the bigger person.

as you make your way down another hallway where the ground is covered in fake grass, you bump into Roy. your eyes lighten up at the sight of him, raising a hand to wave at him, but when you see his smile turn smug, you drop your arm. you feel your cheeks go hot as you remember the words you two parted with yesterday, and your wide smile shrinks into a polite, tight-lipped one.

"how did your shit go?" Roy speaks when you meet each other in the middle of your path. you sigh, ignoring his question and looking at him with stern eyes; "do you think I should train with Jamie?" your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, not because you're going to cry but because you just don't know what to do about the situation. Roy fills his cheeks with air before blowing out slowly, extremely slowly. he stares down the hallway for so long that you glance over your shoulder to make sure there's not a ghost standing there.

"Roy, I'm going to be late to training if-" you whisper, but he's quick to interrupt you.

"yes."

"yeah? really?"

"yes."

"why?" you challenge his deadpan answers, crossing your arms over your chest and furrowing your brow at him.

taking a deep breath in through his nose, you're actually quite nervous for his answer. you're well aware they haven't always been the best of friends, and Isaac's told you all about their old rivalry, but he's you also know they've managed to move on from that by now.

"because..." he starts, dragging the word out in a growl, "as much as I hate to say this, I think he needs real competition with someone in order to be good at football."

"why do I have to be that competition? can't you just use someone from his own team,"

"sadly, I can't personally fight him, and he's too much of a team player now."

"so I'm gonna be his fucking punching bag so you guys can score goals?" you suddenly start getting warm, and not in the nice way. "Gia said this would somehow help her as our captain but now you're saying I'm basically just doing Jamie a favour," you continue.

"not entirely," Roy breathes out, staring at you with the hope that you'll let it go and agree, but you put up more of a fight.

"tell me what's going on."

"fine." he grunts, "first of all, Ted's made Jamie all nice and kind by giving him a second chance, so he's not as intense on the field as he used to be. sometimes they need him to be a prick, just not to his own teammates. so, after seeing you guys rile each other up at training yesterday I thought it could be a good idea to have you bring back that fire in him."

with your mouth dropped open, you stare up at Roy while he speak completely bewildered by his explanation. you consider protesting, since this is probably the most consecutive words he's ever said to you, you let him finish.

"second, Gia thinks you might need the same kind of thing," he stutters through his statement, clearly wary of your response. but when he sees your unwavering expression, he continues; "I mean, I do see where she's coming from. she wants you to enjoy football again, and she knows you have fun with the more aggressive parts of it,"

"fun... fuck's sake," you mumble to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Roy ignores your interjection; "y/n, I think in asking you to do her a favour, Gia is also doing you one. she wants you to play the best you can, and you want her to succeed the best she can. don't even think about Tartt in all of this, he'll be just fine without or without you."

you chew the inside of your cheeks, staring up at Roy with a complete lack of emotion. your mind, however, is running on high, and you feel like an overheating motor as you think over his points. you want to ask what Jamie thinks about this whole idea, but you decide against it; this isn't for Jamie, this is for Gia. you want her to be the best captain she can be, and you want to be the best footballer you can be. you know your passion has worn off with the stress of playing for Richmond, and as much as you don't want to agree that this will help you, you know it's true. you know very well that you need this as much as Gia needs you, and you hate to think of having to leave the team just because you couldn't do your best on the pitch. the deep need for football has dissipated over the years, but your want for it has returned.

"fine."

———

yaaay part two! finally! i can't wait for the all the juicy shit coming up! i hope you enjoyed reading, i'm always open for any and all feedback -- my ask is open!

also sorry if there's typos i didn't get to properly correct the second part much love <3

[feytouched]

can't believe i have to shell out more money for consultations and treatment of a THIRD urgent and ongoing medical problem this month

[zorrasucia]

Congrats on 300💕 & thank you for your fics

Sooo many prompts that it’s hard to choose, but these spoke to me, but whatever inspires you most:)

Carmy x reader

❛ say you want me, and i’m yours. ❜

❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜

❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you. ❜

Hi, Anon! Thank you for reading 💜🥺

I chose ❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you❜ for a established relationship Carmy x Reader phone sex moment 😉 I hope you like it!

"Hey."

"Carmy," you replied sweetly. You had rushed to call him as soon as you read his text. are u awake? "Can't sleep?"

He let out a sigh. "Long day."

"Bad day?" you asked.

"Busy. And everyone was acting like a fucking asshole, even me. Especially me," he confessed. In the background you could hear the tattletale crack of aluminum foil and plastic as he popped some chewing gum.

"Trying to quit smoking again?"

"Always," he mumbled.

"Are you actually trying to quit for your palate and whatever or are you avoiding Richie?"

"What do you mean?" he replied a little defensively.

"Well, you usually talk with him during your smoke breaks. And... I don't know, he understands you. Maybe you don't want that right now," you guessed.

There was a long silence as Carmy took in what you said.

"How do you do that?" he asked abruptly.

"Do what?"

"See through all my bullshit," he explained. "I didn't even- I mean holidays are the worst and he'll definitely talk about Mikey at some point and how I didn't come home enough-" he paused. "I just don't want to feel like that again, you know?"

"Maybe talking with him can help," you said. "Maybe he feels like shit about it too. You both miss him, right?"

"Yeah..."

"You can't avoid him forever, Carm."

"I know," you heard him sigh. "Fuck, I miss you."

"Miss you too, baby," you replied softly, lying back on the bed of your childhood bedroom. "It's only a few more days."

"Are you having a nice time?" he asked gently.

"Yeah, it's, uh... Holidays with family are always a little weird, right?" you shrugged. "Got you a present, by the way."

"Yeah?" you could hear his smile.

"Yeah. Top secret," you giggled. "I also bought lingerie on discount - I don't know if that counts as a present for you or for me."

"Fuck," Carmy sighed again. "I already said I miss you. You don't need to say shit like that."

"There's a long weekend coming up," you appeased him. "We can make up for lost time."

"There's so many things I wanna do to you," he rasped.

"Yeah?" you tried to hide just how flustered his voice was making you. "What kind of things?"

"Fuck, baby..."

You could picture him laying on the couch, head over the armrest, blushing.

"Come on, I want to know," you encouraged him, you could only hear static for a little while. "It'll be fun. Like a wishlist but sexy," you teased. "I can touch myself while you tell me."

He coughed - you had taken him by surprise. You had surprised yourself too to be honest, but it was exciting and oddly liberating to only listen to him, the way his voice and breathing betrayed his emotions.

"You're going to kill me one of these days," he said after he recovered from his coughing fit.

"You don't sound too upset about it," you commented. You didn't pressure him - if he wanted to forget the whole thing, you'd let him.

He took a deep inhale. "I- uh- I wanna eat you out."

You let out a shaky exhale, a familiar warmth in your belly as you thought of Carmy between your legs.

"How?"

"I want you to sit on my face..." he said.

"Fuck, Carmy," you inhaled sharply, your free hand going into your underwear, touching your folds and finding them damp already. "I would love that. Fuck. Your tongue always feels so good on me."

"The way you taste. Fuck," he panted. Was he touching himself too? "I always end up with my face covered in you. My chin, my nose..."

"I love when your nose- Fuck, I think about it for days. Just your pretty nose making me shake and moan," it was so easy to tell him embarrassing truths when your fingers were playing with your clit, making you roll your eyes.

"Jesus," Carmy groaned. Oh, he was definitely touching himself. "I'll make you cum like that. I want your thighs shaking around my face. I want to hold you with both hands while you ride me, use me."

"Fuck," you moaned, your pussy clenching once around your middle finger, the heel of your hand pressing on your clit.

"What do you want, baby? What do you want to do to me?" there was an urgency to his voice. You liked him like that, a little needy.

"I want to touch your cock, make you feel good with my hands-" you said, putting a second finger inside you and moaning.

"Yeah," he was breathing heavily into the speaker.

"I want you to beg for it, Carm," you confessed. "I want to make you feel so fucking good and stop right before you cum. Just keep going until you can't take it anymore."

"Holy shit," he gasped. "And then? After I beg?"

You started fucking into your hand, writhing on the bedsheets.

"After you beg, I'll give it to you," you said simply, hearing as Carmy groaned lewdly. "Let you fuck me however you want, as hard as you want. You can cum as long as you cum inside me."

"Shiiiiit," he keened and the sound took you right over the edge, pussy fluttering around your fingers as he let out low grunts. You pictured him, face red and hair sweaty, eyes glazed and8 breathing heavy, ropes of cum painting his stomach. You sighed, feeling electricity all over, a gentle warmth caressing your skin.

"Fuck," Carmy exhaled on the other side of the line. "You meant that?"

"Yeah," you let out a nervous laugh. "You?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"I think we have our weekend planned out, then."

[cyberrose2001]

OMG, you did an amazing job. Here is another one for you if you want: The matrix is pounding in Prime's chest constantly reminding him that he needed to mate and breed. When a certain scent reaches him, he realizes that his mate, a F!human reader, is also ready especially when she looks at him with a certain look. However, she has no idea that what he wants is for her to filled and sparked.

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

here are some short headcanons for you! thank you medli for your requests 💕

also apologies if the paragraphs are too close together, i cant seem to fix it heh

Warnings: Breeding kink

Word count: 647

When Prime was first introduced to you, he found you endearing and quickly took a liking to you, assigning himself as guardian to you. You would accompany him on small non-life-threatening missions and in turn you would guide him to your favourite places on Earth and show him the different wonders your planet had to offer. Over time, Optimus developed more feelings for you and you of course reciprocated his feelings for you, and you both have been inseparable since.

One day while at the base, Optimus Prime’s olfactory sensors picked up an unusual scent and he was having trouble deciphering where it was coming from. It smelt nothing like the other aromas of Earth he was familiar with. He turned his attention to you and that’s when the overwhelming scent of pheromones flooded his senses, making his Matrix hum and tug at his spark.

It was you. Your body’s scent was so strong he wondered why none of the other bots recognised the increasing amount of pheromones in the air. It was intoxicating, energon rushing to his interfacing array and he was sure that you could hear how loud his spark was humming. He was weak in the knees, he had to get you alone somehow.

He picks you up and transforms with you in his alt mode, driving to primus knows where. The feeling of you resting inside his alt mode flooding his cab with your wonderful scent was driving him up the wall and making his engines run hot. The Matrix constant pulsing and jerks makes him nearly swerve of the road as finds a secluded spot nestled in the cliffs of Jasper.

You were concerned with your lovers behaviour, asking if he was ok and if he needed to pull over. He couldn’t answer you without his vocaliser turning into static. So, you drummed your fingers on the console in this cab in thought, wondering what got the Prime so worked up.

He transforms back into his robot mode with you in his servo, wasting no time to rip the clothes of your body. You were shocked to say the least, who knew that Optimus Prime could detect when you were ovulating. You moan out when Optimus starts to lavish your body with kisses and licks with his glossa, crying out when he would lick and suck the sensitive mound of flesh between your thighs.

Optimus was trying not to be too rough, but his urges had increased ten-fold when his olfactory sensors are absolutely drowning in your sickeningly sweet scent. He licks his dermas clean when he finished ravishing your folds.

And with you lying down on your clothes to protect your back from the rough dirt, Optimus pushed his throbbing spike into your heat. He grips onto your hips to protect where you both connected as he thrusts into you, sighing in relief as the Matrix eases its torment. He will breed you until night broke into day, he will not stop until your womb is a mess and you’re filled to the brim. You beg for him to breed you as you stare into his optics with half-lidded and pleasure filled eyes, drool running down your chin as he fucks you into the next life. He takes in all your moans and cries for him, and he loves it.

He will manage to fill you with several loads of his hot transfluids. Your tight hole dripping and quivering at the full feeling. Optimus’s spark is filled with love for you, admiring your stretched out tummy and rubbing a servo across it. He gives you gentle kisses to your soft lips afterwards, telling you praises and telling you how excited he is to be a sire to your future sparkling’s. He would have to breed you multiple times to be sure though.

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 15 - Encounter

Encounter (noun) 1. a meeting with a person or thing, especially a casual, unexpected, or brief meeting

Tags & Warnings: None

Your foot tapped nervously on the floor while you waited for Alastor to return, pulling his overcoat tighter around your shivering torso.

After the euphoria had ebbed, you were hyper aware that not only had the both of you crossed a dangerous line, but also, that what once were your clothes now were only scraps of fabrics only to use as cleaning rags.

So Alastor had shaken off his overcoat, wrapping it around your shoulders and, much quieter than usual, told you to wait while he got you something to wear.

You began to hate the sight of him turning into black smoke and rushing out of rooms.

With every second that went by, realization became more and more heavy.

You just had sex. Really great sex. Like, really REALLY great, fulfilling, mind-blowing sex.

With Alastor.

In the impossible scenario that you could tell Angel about this, he would absolutely die again. After high-fiving you into oblivion. Yet you didn't know what it all meant. What had happened the past days he was away, that had shifted his mindset from 'proper gentleman with manners' to 'proper gentleman who fucks you – with manners'? Given that your interpretation of his question for consent had been right. And of course the most important question: Was it just this? Just sex? Just a get-it-out-of-the-system thing? No, no, no.

But Alastor had never been a sexual being, on the contrary. He had always shown aversion, or disgust, at the idea of intimacy. He had sneered at public displays of affection, rolled his eyes at people kissing in his perimeter, shut down any sexual innuendos thrown his way (mostly Angel's). Which made the last hour of your afterlife all the more confusing. He had initiated it. Wouldn't that mean that he wanted it? Wanted you? He wants us.

Maybe. But why? Why now? Was it something rooted in actual, real meaning or just nature calling? Or worse.... Was it to manipulate you? This thought really stung. You knew he could, he did it on the daily. It was the reason he brought you to the Hazbin Hotel after all. But you believed – or maybe more so hoped – he wouldn't.

Before you could spiral any longer, a soft hum of static told you he was back. You lifted your head and he appeared in front of you, your cream lounge set in one hand and a cup of steaming tea in the other. He was smiling his usual, toothy smile, something that seemed to have a calming effect on you instantly. One of the few constants in your (after)life. He sat next to you, placing the warm cup on the table in front of the sofa and presenting you the folded clothes in his hands.

You reached for them, mumbling an awkward 'thank you' and stood up, sliding the soft sleeves of his coat down and onto the seat. Naked again, you felt a ting of embarrassment as you put them on, especially with Alastor observing you with unusual attentiveness, scanning your form with an expression you were wholly unable to read...

When you straightened back up, fully clothed and decent again, with a creasing blush growing on your face and neck from the open stares, he cleared his throat and got up as well.

His fingers found your cheek, and ran along it softly, ending at your chin where his pointer and index digit moved the weight of your head to lift it, bringing your eyes to meet his.

He smiled again. No. Not his usual smile. It was different. Less... guarded.

“I sense a conversation is overdue, dear.”

Your heart sank. Swallowing down the feeling of dread, you nod and sit down on the couch, reaching over the table to take the cup of tea in both hands. You needed something to hold on, something to keep your trembling fingers from betraying your mask of neutrality.

Alastor returned to his seat next to you, he had a glass and a crystal decanter of whiskey in hand and poured himself a healthy amount. More than usual, you quickly noted, filing the information away.

“Would you mind if I put on some music? It may lighten the mood.”

Again, a nod. You still had to find enough courage to speak.

He waved his hand in a flourished motion, and a beautiful song played quietly in the background. Alastor's ears stood up, flicking twice as he seemed to recognize it, sighing as he took a sip of the brown liquor. You listened as well, but before you could sort out the name of the piece he started to speak.

"Where to start? I think, with yet another apology would be appropriate, hm?" He tilted his head at you, and you were too stunned to realize he asked you a question. He turned on the couch, one leg folding under his other, which in turn was stretched to the side, giving him full body access to you.

"(Y/n), please accept my sincerest apology for the unnecessary distress my absence has caused you. It wasn't my intention to worry you."

His tone was lower and it lacked so much of his typical voice filter that you questioned your hearing. You swallowed, lifting the teacup to your lips, but the liquid was too hot yet to be drunk. He used your real name. It felt wrong. Too distant.

"Can...", Your voice sounded weak. Fuck, pull yourself together! You coughed, trying to straighten it before speaking. "Can I ask you... Why did you leave that night?"

Alastor closed his eyes and for a moment the corners of his smile twitched.

„Just to clarify, kitten, I didn't leave in the night. I left in the morning.“

Yup, that's what is important here. Semantics. “Still... you were gone.”

Alastor hummed. “Yes. I was.”

He emptied the glass, putting it down on the polished table. He leaned back, looking out the windows onto the skyline of the city.

"To say it bluntly, if I hadn't left, the damage I would have caused may have been beyond repair."

He didn't move, or turn his eyes to you. The sounds from outside mingled with the soft tune, mixing into a dizzying, somber cacophony.

“My theory was that your energy would channel itself, when triggered, into your intriguing copies - a measured scoop of it, contained in their form - if you want. It proved to be incorrect. They more so serve like a dummy, a diversion. The moment I touched you...”

He stopped, you could see him swallowing hard, as if his mouth watered at the memory.

"... it was like opening a floodgate. Your very essence poured in bounds and leaps into me. Unexpected, unstoppable, almost impossible to maintain any grasp of control, as you very well witnessed. Even after hours, it barely receded. I simply couldn't stay, lest I would become something I wouldn't want you to witness."

Silence fell between you, thick and suffocating, the sound of the music grew too loud all of a sudden. You felt like he was leaving out something important, still hiding the full truth behind his departure. Patience. You had to let him to find a proper approach of his own accord, at his own pace. That was how he functioned after all.

Alastor fought with himself. Good resolutions were easy to make at night, with a clear head and a firm mind. And normally, he had no issues sticking to them. But everything about this whole predicament was far from normal. Every fresh-set rule and drawn conclusion, his whole determination and self-control flew right out the window when she told him that she actually missed him.

There, he felt it again. That mysterious, forceful energy. Not as wild as before, it tasted and smelled and felt different, not as intense but more directed. Directed at him, attacking him with all these bothersome, violent feelings and rampant, terrifying emotions. And they made him do the very thing he had so determinedly decided to avoid.

He ought to have been appalled, but found, to his great annoyance, that he wasn't. He had been spellbound, elated, consumed in her desire for him. Had reveled in this feeling of power, of willfully gifted obedience and submission. She had moaned under his touches like worship and it had felt godlike. Her eyes, these forsaken eyes, dancing through the spectrum of colors, drove him over the edge of sanity, and what had been left was only the thought of consuming her, claiming her as his own, and in his way he did, sinking his teeth into her and tasting her blood like it was the nectar of life.

“Before we continue, my dear, there is something I need to ask you. And I need you to give me an honest answer.”

He leaned forward, shifting his weight so he could watch her face closely. And she watched him, tilting her head in the slightest, curious way, her pensive expression making way for an expression of attention.

“Am I correct in assuming that you have developed feelings for me?”

The surprise registered on her face in an instant, her golden eyes wide as she sucked her lips in and pressed them together. He couldn't tell whether her face burned of the embarrassment of the implication or something else. Yet she only nodded, her hands digging into the cloth of her shirt, balling them into fists on her chest.

"I need to hear it."

Her reaction was imminent and forceful. For a second Alastor asked himself why her smell spiked to instantly, drenching the air around them with pheromones, then it dawned on him. He had used the same words when he... oh. "Y-yes.", her reply was little more than a breath, and the blush she sported was slowly creeping over her jaw and under the collar of her top. He studied it, fascinated, the urge to put his hands on her growing with every beat of his heart.

But he brushed that thought away with vigor. He needed to remain cautious.

"I see.”, he answered curtly. Her eyes flickered in blues and reds, seemingly a tad upset over his lack of elaboration. So he hurried to continue.

“I'll cut right to the chase, my gem, I'm not quite sure if what is... coming over me is entirely of my own fruition, or if your powers, so deeply rooted in your own emotions, are having an adverse affect on me.”

Now that got her attention. She watched him like a deer in the headlights (Oh, the irony!), the gears turning soundly in that pretty little head of hers. Apart from his growing attachment to her – a foreign concept in and of itself - Alastor knew one thing for sure: If, and he had to emphasize this: IF he had indeed acted out of his own accord, and there was no room anymore for the delusion that it wasn't at least a possibility, then he needed her to be by his side. Then he wouldn't let her go. Never. It was quite simple, really. He was a possessive, greedy creature. He always got what he wanted. Whatever it was she desired in return.

"So... my powers might have... I might have... forced you?” Her voice cut his internal monologue short. It was high pitched and trembling, the worried traces of horror evident on her lovely, stricken face. He couldn't help but laugh. Oh, so sweet, so innocent, and so very wrong.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear. Even though we might not know if these emotions were truly mine or yours, I did have a choice, and I made it.”

Still looking troubled, he sighed.

“If it's of any solace, I have not felt forced in any way. And if I am perfectly honest with my- and yourself, I did enjoy it a little too much for my taste."

He detangled her fingers from the fabric of her shirt, the fabric stretched and almost torn. Slowly, he brought it to his lips, humming at the sight of the tattered thread around her finger.

“We are venturing through unsteady and unknown territory, little gem. But we shall carry on just as before, and will solve this puzzle together. For the time being, let's just settle that I have, indeed, grown fond of you.”

Fond of you. Fond of you. Fond of you.

You jumped the last few steps of the stairs down with a giddy skip, your tail whipping playfully.

Some things truly did wonders for the mood. A good, hot shower was one of them, and you had taken advantage of half of the hot water supply of the hotel, taking your sweet sweet time under the pouring water. Another was a nice cup of tea.

And then, of course, the biggest mood-booster of all: Being confessed to – well, kind of.

Fondness. Attachment.

You smiled to yourself, actually smiling, your steps lighter than they had been in days. You knew full well that it didn't necessarily mean anything bordering on what you felt, of course. You didn't even put a label on it – being in love? Crushing? Whatever, it didn't matter, it was something.

He said he had a choice. He said he didn't feel forced. He said he enjoyed it. Even though your worries about that particular topic weren't fully gone, you decided to choose to believe his words.

Fond of you.

It played like a mantra in your head, a happy, hopeful one for a change, and it felt good. So good.

Your feet took you straight to the princesses office, straightening your lips - which took more strength than usual - into your default neutral position, where you found Charlie and Vaggie who had returned from their outing.

"Hey girls! How are ya? Everything going alright?"

Vaggie raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed in front of her, and Charlie gave you a big, but confused smile.

"Hi there, (Y/n)", her grin widened, and you could see her eyeing you from top to bottom. "I must say, it's a nice change of scenery, seeing you so chipper. What got you in such a good mood?"

Getting railed by the radio demon and being told he's fond of you.

"Oh, not much. Just the usual stuff, you know. I finally got everyone to commit to the Blue Moon Showcase. How was the trip?"

Vaggie's lower eyebrow joined the one that was already up and Charlie squealed in sheer delight.

"That's amazing! Good job, you! Oh man, we really needed some good news today." She rubbed her forehead.

"Why? What happened?", you asked, brows furrowing.

"Nothing serious, we just... uh, had a bit of a tiff with some of the staff at the VoxTech store."

Vaggie huffed, chest heaving under her still crossed arms. "They refused to rent us the lighting equipment, they called it the 'Roadkill Clause'. Apparently, since Charlie and the hotel are...", she made air quotes with her fingers and changed her voice to a mocking, sly tune, "...in cahoots with the radio demon', they reserve their right of 'tell us to fuck off and go die'." she growled.

“Hey, no moping around!” You clapped your hands, startling both of them. Two pairs of wide eyes looked at you as you as you put your hands on your hips and raised your chin. “If we don't find an alternative, we'll just make do with what we have available. VoxTech or not, we'll make this show a night to remember! Their loss of publicity.”

The girls looked at you dumbfounded, as if you had suddenly sprouted two extra heads. Charlie was the first to regain her composure, her face opening up into an expression of reassured confidence.

"That's the spirit!" she beamed at you. "You're right, (Y/n). I didn't think you'd be so fired up about it. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course I'm okay! I'm not letting those pompous assholes rain on our parade, and you shouldn't too."

"Right you are, my darling assistant."

Your ears twitched as the sound of static filled the room. The familiar, jovial voice followed close after, sounding from behind you, and you turned to him. The three of you were met with the sight of a grinning Alastor, a stack of papers under his arm. He was back to his old self, his coat, gloves and monocle in place, Hair fluffy and shiny again. Apparently, you weren't the only one who had a rejuvenating shower.

"Al!", Charlie called out to him, while Vaggie murmured “About time, asshole.”, and he tilted his head in their direction, his eyes flickering to you. "You're back!"

"Indeed I am, my dear! Again, my deepest apologies for the unscheduled absence. But rest assured, everything has been taken care of and I was informed the hotel and preparations for our little publicity event are up to par and running smoothly so far. Isn't that so, kitten?"

The nickname was accompanied by a low purr, and it sent a tingle down your spine. His eyes had that dangerous glint to them, a mischievous spark you'd come to love and fear.

"Absolutely.”, you answer, straightening yourself and cursing the flush of heat blooming on your back. You sure were getting worked up faster now, without him having to do much. Well, there was always a catch.

“Now that I am fully returning to duty, let me start by lending a helping hand to this little problem of yours.” Alastor cooed, setting down the papers from under his arm to the growing pile of “to be approved” stack of papers on Charlies overflowing desk.

“What, have a whole stage lighting ensemble hidden in that swamp-thing of your room?”, Vaggie jeered with rolling eyes.

Alastor's sharp gaze flew to Vaggie, a crooked and malicious smirk spreading.

"Dearest Vaggie, the day has just started and you have already reached half of our agreed daily insult quota. Do be ressourceful.", He wiggled his pointer finger in a disapproving matter, laughing at the angered blush blossoming on the moth demons cheeks.

Charlie sighed, smiling tiredly at Alastor. "It would be fantastic to get a light set that wouldn't short-circuit the next time one of us comes near."

A tilt of the radio demon's head, and he straightened to his full height, putting his hands on his cane. "Then be all the more glad I have just the solution for that little conundrum. A long-standing associate of mine owns the most marvelous little jazz club, fully equipped with everything your little hearts desire. I am sure she could lend us some of her arrangements for one night."

The princess' eyes lit up, the usual perked-up-dog-that-heard-the-word-walk-behavior making way for pure enthusiasm.

"Really? That would be awesome! How quickly can you talk to her? Aaaaaah, see Vaggie, this day DID get better!"

“If he manages to not piss anyone else off that has something we need.”, Vaggie said, but her tone lacked the bite, and you could see the corner of her mouth twitch.

"I'll get straight to her and set things in motion. And if you don't mind, I'd like to take my dear kitten with me - "

The words were barely out of his mouth, and the others didn't get a chance to speak when you cut him off with

"Of course, Alastor."

"- for assistance.", he finished, amusement glinting in his scarlet eyes.

A big sign spelling

🅼🅸🅼🆉🆈'🆂

appeared in the distance, marking the end of your and Alastor's stroll through the city.

The Pentagram was a chaotic, colorful place. Neon signs, trash and sinners of all shapes and sizes filled every corner and every alley. The streets in the central area were lined with stores: Mostly supermarkets, food stands, liquor booths and weapons shops. Splattered throughout were installments of VoxTech Enterprises, selling any possible and unthinkable electronic device - besides phones, TV's and laptops there were also voyeurscopes, VR-Sex-Suits and 'Flesh-Shooters' - which you really didn't want to find out what they were for. All branded with the name 'VoxTech' in giant bold letters and advertised for with the face of it's namesake. Your nose scrunched at them in disgust almost as hard as Alastor's.

Who, by the way, had offered his arm to you immediately after stepping into the streets, and that's where you hung on from that point on. Not that you would've complained.

Ever the gentleman, he gently steered you through the city, pulling or pushing you slightly along the way to avoid getting bumped and pushed around in the jostling crowd of sinners - as if that would've been an actual risk. As usual, the other sinners parted like the red sea when they saw Alastor strutting along, changing directions or - if they were of the really nervous type - scream and flee entirely. He towered over most of them, an easy pace in his stride and his signature smile on his lips, completely unbothered by the demons that scurried away like roaches when the lights turn on. You noticed how strange the looks were the pair of you earned. Some utterly terrified and others incredulous or downright shocked.

No, it wasn't only his preceding reputation that garnered these reactions - people stared, gawked or even stopped in their tracks in bewilderment when they caught a glimpse of a relaxed Alastor with his hand placed firmly around your arm as he pointed out this or that fact about the neighborhood.

"And here we are, darling: MIMZY's, home of the smoothest jazz and roughest gals one can find within the entire Pride Ring." Alastor did a full-body turn in front of the club door and offered an extravagant arm-sweep to invite you to step inside before you had a chance to comment. "This is an old favorite of mine! Mimzy, the feisty little dearie you'll soon meet, is a terrific hostess and singer. Was one of the best of her time, a shooting star headed for the silver screens."

He chortled at the memories, closing the door behind him. "So full of life and witty, and she still can fill a whole night with the greatest tunes from your time and the decades before!"

The foyer was cozy and elegant, black-and-white tile flooring paired with walls in a deep plum-color. To the left, a mirrored, art nouveau styled bar ran across the room, across from a big stage framed by intricate silver-ornaments in the same deep purple colors matching the walls and decor. Black tables and chairs spread across the open space, but leaving enough space for a small dance floor. The air was already thick with the smell of liquor, tobacco and musky perfume so heavy it tickled the back of your throat. Alastor didn't seem the least bit fazed, striding purposefully to the back, your hand in his as he towed you along, where a stagehand was fiddling with some light fixtures and adjusting cables, hopping on stage from a ladder.

The demon had prominent features of a bird, a nightingale if you remembered correctly, olive and soft brown, satiny feathers covered his body and a beautiful maroon-edged fan of tail-feathers adorned his lower back, flicking around long, slender birds-legs that ended in brown talons. Instead of wings, he had well-built arms, the feathers fading into sandy, smooth looking underarms and hands with pointed fingers. His attire was basic, but clean and tidy, simple Black slacks and a black buttoned shirt with a white tie, rolled up to the elbows as the heat of the club took it's toll on the workers. He brushed a feathery strand of hair back into his quiff, but froze when he turned around to grab another cable and instead found Alastor's looming presence standing in front of him, with you right by his side. His black eyes widened, accentuating the white rim around them.

“You there, boy, be a dear and fetch Mimzy for me, would you? Tell her Alastor is here to see her.”

The demon nodded, head bowed respectfully. “Of course, sir, right away.” and with that, he hurried backstage.

Your eyebrows shot up – that voice sounded so familiar... but you couldn't place it. Before you had a chance to pursue the thought, Alastor grinned at you, his hand snaked around your waist and he pulled you into his side.

"So, what do you think, my gem? A fine establishment, isn't it?”, he hummed into your ear.

Abit embarrassed, your tail curled around your legs. Why the sudden show of possessiveness, you couldn't really say, and decided that the cause wasn't that important. Or at least less important than how nice it felt.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure what to expect for a place with 'the roughest gals'...", you started, letting your eyes slowly wander over the buzzing space, until they returned to his. When they did, you stopped the restriction of your muscles, and let yourself freely smile at him. "But it's absolutely spectacular."

His expression was one you weren't familiar with yet, and it lingered before he let out a joyous laugh. His hold around you tightened slightly, before he suddenly released you from his touch entirely. The sound of high heels clicking quickly on tiled floor caught your attention, and you found it's source walking towards you: A tiny, curvaceous, spunky-looking woman, dressed in a risque flapper dress, accompanied by the stagehand Alastor sent to get his friend. That, you thought, must be Mimzy.

"Alastor, sweetie!", Mimzy exclaimed, throwing her tiny arms in the air, the locks of her short, honey-gold hair sweeping over her shoulders as her hips swayed in exaggerated waves, "It's been ages. How are 'ya dollface?" She walked the last couple of feet to stand between you and Alastor, ignoring your very presence and looped her thin arms around his waist for a squeezing hug. When he hunkered a bit to meet her shorter form and he stepped away from you, you had to suppress the sudden urge to hiss, watching their interaction with narrowing eyes.

Instead, you eyed the nightingale, trying to pinpoint why he was so familiar. He met your gaze, hands like you folded behind his back, and gave you a coy smile.

"Mimzy, a pleasure as always. I see you are as sprightly as ever." Alastor said, releasing the small woman and straightened his crooked fly. Then he placed a hand on your lower back and pushed you forward, gesturing to her with his other. "I'd like you to meet (Y/n), my new assistant." A mischievous twinkle lit in her magenta eyes, that looked you up and down lazily. You felt mocked by the way she smirked at you, and you didn't have to guess the validity of that feeling when she sweetly said "That's your assistant? And here I was thinking the new cleaning company sent another plain Jane. Well, they don't make 'em like they used to, I guess it's slim pickings, even for you, Alastor."

What an arrogant bitch.

Her laugh was high and obnoxious, and you felt your tail puff up in aversion. Your face - thank god - remained neutral under your iron grip, but your heart jumped at the hint of annoyance that rushed over Alastor's features.

“Let's not waste precious time prattling, my dear. I came to discuss a little business with you.” he said, his grin unfaltering but his tone a little colder than before. Mimzy didn't notice, or didn't care, either way, she linked her arm with his, pulling him in the direction she came from. “Ah, always so busy. Alright then, let's chat in private,” she gave you a sly look at the last two words, waving her free hand carelessly to the still awkwardly waiting stagehand, “your... help can give Dante a hand, make herself useful for a change.”

It crashed into you like a truck. Your hairs stood up, your ears stiffened and your eyes burned blue with sudden energy as you realized why the bird demon felt so kindred. The sudden shift in atmosphere made Alastor and Mimzy turn, her expression scrutinizing, his perplexed.

“Dante?”

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[ioannemos]

Now you already know I need to hear about the SGA fic on your WIP list

And silence, like darkness, can be kind; it, too, is a language. Hanif Kureishi

i'm pretty sure this one was something of a response to the (understandable) cop-out ending of tao of rodney. obvs it's a tv show, they don't wanna change things permanently like that, but it's a common frustration for me. static characterization annoys me and it's especially egregious in sga imo, esp rodney's. ANYWAY

the basic idea is that rodney gets whammied by a trap set for the ancients and there is no back-to-normal. bc he has the artificial ancient gene, it doesn't kill him, but only just. he's now operating at speeds unknown to man or ancient, which means he can't type or even speak fast enough to keep up with his thoughts and his body is constantly on the verge of straight-up shutting down

eventually he finds (or maybe makes? i haven't gotten that far) a room in atlantis that like... displays his thoughts, i guess? like they get projected into the air so other people can see them. but it also means that he can basically speak for atlantis, showing other people where there are problems or even just minor issues, explain rooms they didn't know the reason for, search the database in seconds for what they need and not just what they're asking for... the image i have of this story is john coming to visit rodney in that room. description below the cut bc it uhhhhh it got really long

john comes in with two trays of food. the room is about two stories high with no windows, only one door, and relatively dim lighting. there's a mattress and a pillow shoved against a wall, a blanket half-on and half-off it. there are also a few chairs around a small folding table. rodney is standing in the middle of the room in scrubs, barefoot and a little scruffy, attached to an iv and a few other kinds of monitoring equipment and looking at nothing in particular, lips moving silently. hovering in the air like holograms are things like a diagram of a wraith ship, a full 3d model of atlantis, and several 'windows' of scrolling text (both words and math). there are a few other people in the room in little clusters, like zelenka and another scientist taking notes near one of the math windows and muttering to each other, a soldier quietly talking to someone while looking at a blinking light on the 3d model, and two members of the medical staff sitting at the table just watching the monitoring equipment

everyone looks over when the door opens except for zelenka. the soldier nods respectfully and leaves the room; the other scientist nudges zelenka, who looks up with the expression of someone who is definitely seeing the room around them in Math-O-Vision and has to blink a few times to adjust to reality. they also leave, tho john stops zelenka on the way out to ask how it's going. zelenka is vague but positive, clearly still in Math World

john goes over to the medical staff and asks them how it's going. they talk about blood pressure and electrolytes and eye the food trays but don't comment on them. john nods and just keeps standing there, waiting for them to fold; one of them sighs and rolls her eyes and says "c'mon" and both of them leave, pointedly leaving one of their pads on the table

john sets down the trays, sits in one of the chairs, and starts to eat. a minute later rodney sits down across from him and also starts to eat, tho it's just automatic. he's staring into the middle distance over john's shoulder, occasionally tilting his head or narrowing his eyes, a finger flicking or shoulder twitching

john starts talking about the recent trip he went on with tayla and ronon, commenting on how the scientist they took along behaved and the likelihood of them coming next time. rodney doesn't noticeably respond to anything he says and eventually john stops trying to fill the silence, tho he clearly finds it oppressive

rodney clears his tray and stands up and leaves the table, almost robotic, returning to the exact spot where he was standing before. john picks at what's left on his own tray, then gives up and stacks them and stands with a sigh, about to leave

a new hologram pops up, a 'window' showing a room with a guitar and a grand piano. rodney walks into frame and sits at the piano, hands hovering over the keys while he looks expectantly at the guitar leaning against a chair. he stays there for a long time, motionless, then puts his hands in his lap. then rodney looks to the 'camera', right at john, then to the guitar, then back at john, asking a question without opening his mouth

john tries to smile. "sure, buddy. next time i'll bring the guitar"

in the window, rodney's whole face lights up, and then the window vanishes like it never existed, its space taken over with an exploded-view 3d model of a life-signs detector with one tiny element highlighted and words scrolling past too fast for john to read

just another average lunchtime with the oracle

[actuallysaiyan]

Can someone get a part to of losing your virginity to Uchiha men. It was so good. Can it include shisui uchiha please 👉🏼👈🏼. Thank you :)!!

Word count: 2,505

Pairings: Shisui x reader, Izuna x reader, Fugaku x reader, Indra x reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, swearing, creampies, virginity loss, the usual smuttiness

A/N: Thank you anon for requesting this! I tag @iicha and @beneathstarryskies <3 thank you both for supporting me while writing these spicy headcanons! Find part one here!

Shisui is playful and gentle with you, and he prefers to let things go by instinct. What he does know is that he loves you and wants your first time to go well.

Shisui is fairly experienced, and he knows what you like based on the times you’ve both fooled around. He starts by kissing you softly, stopping only to make silly faces and laugh with you.

“I love you so much,” he says, nuzzling his face in your neck. His fingers start to remove your shirt, and he’s very aroused by the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra.

He pulls on your nipples, earning him a surprised squeal from you. You blush as he continues to play with your nipples, but he just reassures you by calling you beautiful and gorgeous.

His hands feel so good on your body, and you’re a whining mess by the time he takes off your pants and panties. He chuckles at how needy you are, and then he leans down to kiss your inner thighs.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetie. I can’t wait to taste you,” Shisui says, licking his lips before diving in. He sucks on your clit, while his fingers tease your leaking hole. You need him so badly.

You buck your hips gently at him, which makes him laugh against your wet cunt. The vibrations drive you insane. You’re gripping the sheets as Shisui laps at your slick. You can feel your thighs tense as you near your climax.

While you start creaming and gushing, Shisui licks it all up. You taste so good to him, it’s making him so hard. He ruts against the mattress, hoping to get some much needed release.

Finally, he looks deeply into your eyes and kisses you passionately. He pulls away to let you catch your breath while he undresses. He’s so well-toned and beautiful, you can’t help but admire him.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” he asks as he spreads your legs. You nod at him dumbly, and he begins teasing your wet cunt again. It feels so fucking good. You’re so ready for him.

Shisui uses all his willpower to not just bottom out with one good thrust. Instead, he eases in slowly and watches your reaction. Your mouth falls open at the delicious sensation of Shisui’s fat cock stretching you open. He snickers at this, but it feels just as good to him as it does to you.

He grips your hips as he starts a slow pace, and with every thrust, your tits jiggle and Shisui finds it very amusing. He leans in to suck on your nipples, which makes you card your fingers through his hair.

“Oh please, Shisui!” you beg as he hits your sweet spot. With a smirk, he picks up the pace and fucks your harder. You can feel your thighs tremble as your climax is nearing once again.

With his mouth latched onto your nipples, his hand reaches between you and rubs your clit with expertise. Your vision cuts to static as your orgasm hits you fucking hard. You can feel your juices gushing all over Shisui as he continues to fuck you.

Your walls contract and pulse around him, which makes him moan and mutter praises. He’s so fucking close, and your tight cunt is milking the soul out of him. It feels so fucking good.

When he cums, he makes sure to thrust deeply inside of you to give you every last drop of seed. He kisses you lazily as he finally comes down from his high.

This man is completely devoted to you. He wants to build his clan up, and he will do anything to protect you.

Though, he can get competitive and jealous from time to time. You’re going to have to reassure him that there’s nobody else for you except for him, and definitely do not mention his brother. He doesn’t want to be compared.

Izuna is gentle and experimental, and he’s also a virgin. He loves you so much, he wants your first time to be very special. He’s not as rough with you as his brother would be with someone, but he does get possessive.

His lips are on yours, his tongue in your mouth and he’s grinding against you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to get some alone time, and you know you want to have sex. Izuna is ready as well, and he’s rock hard before either of you are undressed.

“Please,” you beg as Izuna sucks on your bottom lip. He gives you a smile before he removes your kimono. Underneath, you are almost completely nude except for a pair of silky panties. Izuna groans when he sees your tits.

“You’re so beautiful, kitten. I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he confesses, kissing your neck and playing with your nipples.

You gasp as he rubs your clothed pussy. He’s smirking at how wet you are already, and his lips latch onto yours in a heated kiss. You buck up against his hand, and his name falls from your lips when he pulls away to give you air.

Izuna pushes your panties to the side, rubbing your bare clit and smearing your juices all over your throbbing cunt. You’re an incoherent mess of begging and pleading, and Izuna absolutely adores this. He’s eating it all up, and it’s definitely stroking his ego.

Izuna kisses a trail from your tits down to your wet slick, and you’re just watching his every move. He winks at your before licking up your juices, and he groans at your taste. It’s so sweet, so tasty...he’s growing even harder as he continues to devour you. 

His fingers slide deep within, making you squeal in pleasure. You need this so badly, and Izuna knows what he’s doing with you. He may not be rough, but he knows what he likes and what you like. His lips suck on your clit, bringing you so close to the edge.

With one final curl of his fingers, you tumble over the edge and cum hard on his face. He becomes drenched in your juices, and all Izuna does is lick it all up. Once he’s done, he leans in to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his lips arouses you even more.

You’re quick to start undressing him, and he loves the way you’ve chosen to take charge now. Once he’s nude, you pump his cock lovingly and gently. He coaxes you with praise and love. You take his cock into your mouth, and Izuna is trying not to buck up against you.

“Oh such a good little sex kitten...taking my cock like this in her mouth,” Izuna moans as you continue to suck him off. His fingers curl into your hair, tugging slightly when you increase the pressure. When he hits the back of your throat, he knows he needs to stop or else he’ll cum quickly.

Izuna spreads your legs, spits on your already slick cunt and slides in with ease. You cry out as he bottoms out, and he pushes himself out...then back in once more. He teases you with these long and deep thrusts.

Once you beg for more, he asks you if you’re sure. You nod your head at him, and he begins to pick up the pace. Izuna is grunting and groaning, and he knows he probably won’t last long.

Your pussy twitches once he reaches that sweet spot inside of you, and you praise him with moans and sweet little naughty whispers. Izuna is trying to focus on making you cum, but he’ll probably cum before he can make you cum again.

With one final thrust, Izuna fills you up with so much cum. You’ll probably become pregnant, but that was the point right?

Fugaku seems very strict and stern, but he does like to have fun from time to time. He absolutely loves you, and he will wait until you are ready to lose your virginity.

Actually, he wants to marry you before he even thinks about taking your virginity. He’s fallen in love with you, so he thinks it’s proper to marry you first.

That night, you are going to consummate your marriage. You’re a blushing little thing, but Fugaku will take very good care of you.

His large hands caress you and he massages you to ease you into this act. You’ve both fooled around before, but you’ve never really gone this far with your relationship.

“My beautiful bride,” he compliments. He kisses you hungrily, and he grows hard as you squeak with every move he makes. He loves how meek and timid you are around him. Especially when it comes to sex.

He undresses you carefully, making sure to watch your reactions as he removes different articles of clothing. When he sees your weeping pussy, he’s drawn to it so quickly.

Fugaku gives you a stern look, “Already this wet? Have you been having some naughty thoughts?” You nod, blushing hard. He laughs deeply, and he slides one of his fingers through your folds. You gasp as he teases your slick.

There’s this bossy and controlling aspect to Fugaku that always turns you into a babbling mess. He just makes you feel so weak, but in the best way possible. He’s always had that effect on you, and now it was so much more intense.

His eyes scanned your naked body as he kissed a trail down your body. When he placed a kiss to your clit, you were already so close to cumming. He was building up everything, and you were just putty in his hands.

“Does my beautiful bride love this? Does this feel good?” he asks as he licks your pussy. You nod and plead with him, and he just chuckles and continues to devour you. 

His fingers slide into you, and he curls up to reach that spot inside of you that makes you squeal in pleasure. Your cheeks are red from the lust and want, and you’re just panting. You can hardly form coherent sentences.

Fugaku loves the way you sound when you cum, and he revels in the fact that you tumble over the edge so quickly and basically over nothing. He knows he’s going to enjoy being deep inside of you.

With your legs spread, Fugaku slides into your virgin pussy. It’s fucking tight, almost constricting. He needs to focus on his breathing to not cum right then and there. It’s so warm and inviting, and he can feel you twitching.

“You’re twitching, my beautiful bride. Do you need my fat cock?” he asks in a teasing but stern tone. You nod your head, and he smirks. “Use your words,” 

“Ah, please fuck me!” You beg and this is what spurs him on. He grabs your hips and fucks you hard and deep, but never too fast. He needs to steady his stamina so as not to cum too quickly.

But when you tumble over that edge once more, he’s right there with you, painting your insides white with his hot cum. It feels so sticky and so warm. You love every second of it.

Indra can be loving and patient, but he’s usually very jealous and prone to bouts of anger. It’s not his fault, he’s just made that way. He will be rough, he will take what he wants, but he will most definitely think of your pleasure too.

He’s a virgin, but he knows exactly what he wants. He wants his cock buried deep inside of you, pumping you full of cum and having a big family with you so he can bury his problems from the past.

He kisses you with hunger and passion, but he’s gripping onto you hard and pulling you closer forcefully. It feels so good, you feel like your skin is on fire.

“Oh, Indra…” you moan as he bites your neck. He leaves red-hot hickeys all over your exposed skin. His hands skillfully take off your shirt as he continues to kiss and bite your skin.

He loves the sound of your voice, and he’s going to absolutely go wild when he finally hears you screaming his name when he fucks you. It sounds so good coming from your pretty little mouth.

Don’t get too mouthy, ‘cause he’s going to shut you up with a rough kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth, and he grinds up against you. You can feel his erection through his pants.

“My stupid little needy baby,” he comments as you whimper against his lips. He knows you need this as badly as he does, but he doesn’t show his own need.

He shoves his hand down your pants, rubbing your soaked panties. He smirks as he sucks on your bottom lip, and you moan. You’re grinding against his fingers as your thighs squeeze his hand for some much needed sexual relief.

Indra is quick to pull his hand away, chastising you for being way too needy. Yet, he can’t help himself when you beg for more. He pulls down your pants and panties, and he licks his lips when he eyes your cute little pussy.

He leans in to kiss you clit, which leaves you trembling. You need so much more than this teasing, but you know it’s a bad idea to tell him what to do. Instead, you allow this orgasm to build up deep within you as Indra takes his time with you.

Indra enjoys watching your reactions as he slowly parts your swollen labia, and when he licks you clit ever so softly, he enjoys watching your head fall back and your mouth fall open. He chuckles darkly with every reaction you make to his teasing.

It’s not long before Indra can’t contain himself, and he spreads your legs wide. You’re so close to cumming, you can see stars in your field of vision. Indra pumps himself into you, and you squeak in surprise. His fat cock stretches you, and he just laughs.

“Ha, I guess you were ready,” he says in a mocking tone, but he’s quickly shut up by the sensation of your twitching and tight cunt. It feels so fucking good, and Indra needs to keep his composure.

His pace is rough, but it’s not without love. He kisses you tenderly as he drills himself into you, reaching that spot that is making you tremble and whimper. Your legs wrap around him, and he pulls you closer.

You’re both so close to the edge now, and Indra mutters how much he loves you. You’re a little surprised, but it brings you over the edge...well, that and his fingers flicking your swollen clit.

With your walls pulsing around him, Indra buries himself deep within you as he cums. He groans against your breasts, having buried his face between them while cumming hard.

You’ll probably be pregnant, and you’re happy about it. If not, Indra will not hesitate to fuck you until you are.

[windblooms]

*scuttles into your ask* h-hello, can i have a scenario where the reader is zhongli's secretary that always cleans up after his corporate messes wwww (bonus points if he "shows his thanks" with a private moment in his office and an impromptu dinner after >:3)

sobs 

gender-neutral reader.  nsfw.  corporate au with a dominant ceo geo dad in a suit :^)  998 words. 

if there’s one thing you like better than zhongli’s pay, it’s probably his cologne. 

it had taken quite a bit of coaxing from him to tell you exactly what he was wearing – “burberry,” he answered, somewhat awkwardly, and at the time you only chuckled.  zhongli had never struck you as the self-indulgent type, despite being the ceo of a multi-million dollar company and possessing spending whims that spoke loudly about the size of his wallet.  but he was notoriously tasteful with his preferences, so you supposed his keen senses had attracted him toward specific scents in the brand. 

but you’re not one to dwell on details, especially when you think it smells much better on the both of you.  when the doors of his office are locked and you’re pulling at each others’ clothes, making out in the warm hue of city lights below, you decide that there is, in fact, also one thing you like more than his cologne: his voice, in your ear, spilling obscenities that you know only you could make him say.

“so this is what you’re into?” you exhale, taunting, into the side of his neck, body jolting against his.  “making love to your secretary on top of your desk?  i would have never imagined the modest zhongli to be into such things.” 

zhongli’s fingers, long and calloused from nights gripping pens too tight, use your thighs as leverage as you’re positioned upright on the table.  the control he exerts onto his thrusts has yet to falter, something that you’ve committed to influence, and thus has prompted you to be a bit more mouthy than usual.  he has yet to punish you for your cheekiness, although you theorize that, if there’s one thing that betrays his patience, it’s the flash of his eyes to yours as soon as those words leave your lips.

although he doesn’t visibly appear amused by your dialogue, his voice is noticeably lower as he responds.  “i enjoy what i enjoy,” he quips, and for good measure, digs his teeth into the spot just below your jaw, tongue escaping between his lips to tease at your flesh.  your body instinctively shivers; zhongli, emboldened, chuckles at your reaction before continuing. “the table just so happens to be convenient.”

as if the archons would believe that.  the last time the two of you had been alone in his office was about two weeks ago – two weeks since your last “hook up.”  you have half the mind to call him out on his obvious impatience for sex, but you do enjoy the way he tries to keep up his act.

two can play at this.

with a voice as saccharin as honey, you bring your lips next to his ear.  “but there’s a sofa in your office, mr. zhongli.”  your voice sounds too innocent to be yours, but you don’t have the time to be guilty for riling him up; you especially don’t cease your antics as you hear his breath hitch – frustrated –, and for a split second, his pace slows.  “is there a specific reason we’re still using this desk?”

uncharacteristically, zhongli stops his thrusts inside you entirely.  genuinely bemused, as your plan was to keep him going, your eyebrows furrow as he pulls his face away from your figure and out from between your legs.  zhongli, standing upright behind his desk, regards you as one would a disobedient pet, and from his static state, you assume he’s annoyed.  maybe your teasing went to far this time, and you’re about to apologize for ruining the mood, opening your mouth to speak – 

when he silences you by shoving two fingers in your mouth, and pushes your back flat against the desk so suddenly that the force of your body sends utensils crashing to the floor; your legs are lifted up so that they rest against his shoulders, and you suddenly find zhongli’s face very, very close to yours.

“for once,” your boss starts, tone chilling as he leans into you, causing your legs to fold at your hips.  you feel him once more enter your body, and with each word, he pushes himself further into you until he’s hilted.  you’re left, half-choking and half-moaning on his fingers; his eyes narrow, and lowers his face so that his lips are only a breath away from yours.  “i’m grateful i had film installed on the windows.  it allows me to ruin you in this way.”

and he proceeds to fuck you into the desk. 

the position you’re in has left you without any stability, and you resort to clawing at his back, feeling as if you’d need to rip off his coat from how savagely he was pounding himself into you.  each time he thrusts, your body jerks forward, and you can swear that even the desk is moving.  all that your senses register are his breaths, violent and ragged, and his burning length inside your core. 

too far in the haze of paradise, you feel your eyes roll back, zhongli’s fingers still on your tongue.  what escapes your mouth is a mixture between a gag and cry as you relish in the pressure he gives between your legs, all while he’s fixated himself on your expressions. 

“if you wanted this,” he starts again, and you open your eyes to the timbre of his voice.  “you could’ve asked.”

there’s no fun in that, you want to snap back, but your mouth is stuffed with his fingers, and he doesn’t bother to remove them.  what he does do, instead, is laugh, and presses his lips to your neck once more.  

“maybe this will teach you a valuable lesson.”

. . .

"i don’t suppose you’d join me for dinner, y/n?”

“after doing a number on my legs, you expect me to be able to walk outside with you?”

“ah, yes, i guess you’re right.  that’s unfortunate – we can order in for tonight, but i’m sure you’re used to sore legs by now.”

[bluewhale52]

Dopegirl.com

Summary: Someone is a big fan of Cypher Pt. 2

Pairing: Yoongi x camgirl

Rating: Mature, NSFW. No minors allowed.

Genre: idol!au, camgirl!au

WC: 1.7k

Warning: OC is a camgirl, voyeurism, masturbating (f and m), use of a toy, cursing

Playlist: Cypher Pt. 2 (obviously)

A/N: I dont’ know where this comes from, all I know is that Cypher Pt.2 just brings out the inner hoe in me. Also this is my submission to @btscreatorscorner summer games (Song challenge).

“Joon, what did you send me?”

Namjoon looks up from his phone and grins. “Just check it out, Hyung.”

Yoongi looks suspiciously at his phone. “This isn’t one of your questionable links, is it? Do I need to back my phone up before I click it?”

“Geez, Hyung, that was just one time and it was years ago.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Just making sure.”

“Oh,” Namjoon suddenly remembers, “I suggest you put on your headphones when you, um, enjoy it.”

“Now I’m really worried.” Yoongi sighs.

@

Yoongi plops down on his bed. He should be tired after practice and rehearsal, however the adrenaline is still high and he finds himself unable to sleep. He grabs his phone and starts mindlessly looking at cooking videos. Normally it makes him sleepy but tonight, he is feeling especially restless.

Then he remembers the link Namjoon sent him earlier.

He opens the message and for the first time, he reads the URL.

www.dopegirl.com

He tilts his head; there is an odd familiarity about the name.

“What the hell,” he mumbles, tapping the link.

A browser window immediately opens and he is taken to your page. It’s just a dark blank page, but for an embedded video screen in the middle. He scrolls up and down, finding no information whatsoever about the page. How mysterious. He really hopes Namjoon isn’t trying to infect his phone with viruses.

Yoongi’s eyes move to the video. It’s dark, but for the luminous play icon in the middle, taunting him. A thought briefly crosses his mind, to close the browser and go to sleep, but he is in too deep now. His curiosity is piqued, he knows he cannot not find out what the video is all about.

He presses play.

Static fills the screen, and slowly a music beat starts, echoing in the background. Yoongi immediately recognises it as the opening beat for Cypher Pt.2.

The moment J-Hope’s verse comes on, the static disappears to reveal you, naked on a plain bed. The camera angle is such that your face is not visible; only your legs and the part in between, and the peaks of your nipples are in view.

우린 일곱 마리 늑대, 함성이란 양들을 몰이 We’re seven wolves, herding the sheep that are the applause

지금부터 보이는 고장 난 랩들 견인해가지 We tow away the broken raps we see from now

우린 계속 진격, 비트 위의 거인 We keep advancing, a giant on the beat

You are writhing along to Hoseok’s voice, your hands travelling up and down your body, before resting on top of your nipples, plucking them. A particular hard tug elicits a moan that Yoongi hears loud and clear amidst the rap. One of your hands reaches out of sight, only to return with a vibrator. Yoongi is hypnotised.

난 랩 와이퍼, 완전 싸이코 I’m rap wiper, a total psycho

내가 다이서라면 임마 난 다이스 다 있어 If I were a dicer, hey, I would have all the dice

Your legs open up right on time with RM’s first words. Both your hands reach down, one to part your folds, the other to place the toy on your sex. Your body jerks up at the first contact, your gasp loud enough to mingle erotically with Namjoon’s rough voice.

히히하하 뛰뛰빵빵 시속 300 나가

Heeheehaha beep beep, I go at the speed of 300km/hr

Your back arches as you run the vibrator along your slit. Your legs keep parting wider and wider, as your moans get louder. Yoongi gulps. He has gotten hard and he cannot resist anymore. Keeping his eyes glued on his phone, he shuffles to pull down his pyjama pants, freeing his erection. He wraps his fingers around it as you insert the tip of your vibrator in.

“Fuck,” he groans, at the same time as you whine at the breach.

You start to pleasure yourself with the toy, your legs in an erotic V for your viewers’ vouyeristic enjoyment. As RM’s rap picks up, so does your hand, and Yoongi strokes himself faster, keeping in rhythm with the pace of your wrist.

I’m da king, I’m the god so where ma emperors at?

I parachute on my Neverland,

I’mma peter pan, so this will never end

You know when I ride on my G5 you sit first class and satisfy and I keep giggling

You plunge the vibrator in, your body jerks almost violently, your other hand gripping your thighs so tight your fingernails leave marks. Your hand then freezes, leaving your sex pulsating around the toy, squeezing out your juices down to the sheet underneath you.

Yoongi has to stop stroking, he has subconsciously decided he will only orgasm along with you. He squeezes the base of his shaft, half smirking when you pull out your toy and your body shudders at the edging you give yourself. He imagines you are breathing heavily, your breasts heaving beyond your shaking legs.

누구 때문에? 제이홉 때문에 Because of whom? Because of j-hope

누구 때문에? 랩몬 때문에 Because of whom? Because of Rap Mon

다시 누구 때문에? 슈가 때문에 Again, because of whom? Because of SUGA

우리 셋이 모여서 새 시대를 외쳐 Three of us, gathered, shout the new generation

Yoongi’s part is next, and you are so whiny now, your lusty moans sound more desperate. He somehow knows you have been working yourself to his verse. There is a sick sense of pride blooming in him that you are pleasuring yourself to a song he co-wrote.

Your free hand releases your thigh, the marks your nail leaves on your flesh are so red and raw he cannot take his eyes off of them. He is gripping his phone tightly, his veins blue against his pale skin. His breath catches when he hears a whisper from you the moment his own verse starts.

Did you just moan his name?

Yoongi suddenly remembers Namjoon’s advice. He pauses the video then scrambles to get his AirPods from his desk, then he kicks off his pyjamas pants completely. He has half a mind to ensure the Bluetooth is connected properly, before he turns the volume all the way up. Sitting back on his bed, with his fingers back around his shaft, he rewinds the video and presses play.

내 도메인 dopeman.com My domain is dopeman.com

마이크로 여럿 혼냈지 I scolded many with my mic

언행은 족쇄 같어 Your speech and actions are like shackles

내 죄명은 혀로 폭행 The name of my charge is “assault with tongue”

“Fuck,’ he breathes out as he throws his head back against the headboard. He did not hear wrongly, you did moan out his name. It was such a soft whisper, but so sensual that it burns his body even more. He feels his climax coming again, and gritting his teeth, he holds it at bay. He forces himself to slow down and levels his breathing.

The vibrator returns to assault you. You shove it right in and Yoongi swears he hears a squelching sound when you do so. He has never been so envious and jealous of an inanimate object. You continue to pump yourself, your pace matching Suga’s flow and rhythm in the track.

Yoongi licks his lips. He does not miss the way your thighs fell sideways to open yourself up to your viewers. He does not miss the little shakes that jiggle your flesh. He definitely does not miss how your moans getting louder by the second, and how he wishes you would say his name again.

니 여친도 홀리는 내 목소린 좀 꼴림 My voice, which bewitches even your girlfriend, gets them horny

There it is, Yoongi gets his wish. You WHINE out his name, and he groans, wanting to close his eyes to fantasize himself being there, replacing that vibrator with his own shaft. Fuck, he’d even please you on camera if that was what it would take. But he forces his eyes open, focusing on your ministrations you are doing to your own body and the carnal sounds coming out of your sweet mouth.

Your hand is moving faster pumping that stupid toy into you. He knows it, he can feel it, you are working to get to your release at the same time as his rap climaxes. He pants, the anticipation builds more and more pressure in his sack.

내가 어디까지 가나 봐라 Watch how far I go

썩은 뿌릴 싹 다 갈아엎어 I plow the rotten roots out completely

“Aaah, Yoongi!”

Fuck, fuck, you sound so fucking whiny, calling him like that. 

“Cum for me, come on,” he eggs you on. It is getting to the best part, the part where ARMY cheers the loudest and his brothers hype him the most on stage. Now it is also the part where you are going to reach your ecstasy, because of his rap, and his name your only chant of lustful bliss. Fuck.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” Your other hand goes to rub your sensitive button viciously as you wail his name over and over,

“That’s it, cum for me, cum.” He orders you with a firm voice, but his hand is shaky. He is stroking himself fast and hard, the liquid leaking out from his tip providing the lubricant and he pretends it was your juices instead.

아껴 쓰고 나눠 쓴 flow를 받아쓰고 또 그걸 다시 쓰는 너 You, who uses someone else’s the flow that was used frugally and shared and yet again reuses it

hey beat 쪽 팔린 줄 알어 너 Hey bitches, you should know your shame

Your shriek fills his ears as you finally tip over. Your hand that is holding the vibrator stops pumping, but Yoongi is certain your inner walls are pulsating wildly around the toy. Your body convulses, your legs kick out a few times, and it is at the loudest and final scream of his own name that Yoongi finally lets go.

He does not know how, but he keeps his eyes open and on you as white liquid spurts and stains his tshirt. He pants as he watches your hands crumple to your sides, and your legs shudder. And your toy, shiny and slick from your fluids, rolls off to the end of the bed. He can hear you breathing shakily, recovering from the short but intense orgasm. He tugs himself, squeezing out his own release to the last drop. The song is drawing to the end.

난 니 음악의 커리어 동맥에 마침표를 그어 I draw the period onto the artery of your music career

“Fuck, Yoongi.” You breathe out, followed by a sweet chuckle, making it Yoongi’s turn to whine.

Then the video goes back to black.

@

Thank you so much for reading!! Did you enjoy it? If so, please reblog! Reblogs would bring this fic to a wider audience and it would mean the world to me!

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Song translation from doolsetbangtan.  Published on 25062021.

the SEQUEL is finally here >> dopegirl.com/theauction

[animebaby00]

Sneaking Sweets (Brother Ciel Phantomhive x Sister Reader)

(Halloween Special !!! 🎃❤️🎃❤️🎃)

(Ciel is aged at 14 while reader is 13)

Ciel nervously paced around his room, teeth chewing at the skin of his thumb as his feet carried him back and forth across the area at the front of his bed. He pulled at the collar of his sleep shirt, clicking his tongue, every so often glancing at the dark, oaken door to his room, waiting and wondering.

Silence surrounded him, to the point where there was that annoying static ringing in his ears, and while he usually appreciated silence, he found it rather bothersome at this given moment.

Planting his feet on the floor, index finger tapping at his forearm, he momentarily gazed at the large collection of pillows pushed up against the headboard of his bed, slightly tighter together than usual.

That had been his doing. However, one was starting to slip.

With a tsk, he strode over to his bedside and pulled the corner of the pillow case slightly upwards, then, huffing, sat down on the clean linen sheets.

Legs folded over one another, the tapping of his forearm continued, each one subconsciously causing his fingernail to dig deeper into his skin, surely leaving a temporary crescent behind in its place. One cobalt blue eye peered up at the clock on the wall, hour hand on the 9 and minute hand on the 8. 9:40 PM.

Where was she? Surely she hadn't been caught. She was rather crafty and hellishly sly when she wanted to be. This ought to have been easy.

Especially since she had done it so many times before.

~~~~~

*7 years ago

Ciel's small frame pitched forward as he broke into a fit of coughs, body achy and sore from the hellish cold that had plagued it. His throat burned with every painful hack, nose congested, and eyes watery as his lungs showed him no mercy. 

Wiping his nose on his sleeve (even though his Mother told him not to), he sniffed and sadly peered out the window from his room at the bright, full moon that was high in the night sky, its whiteness beautifully pristine against the purplely-blackblue canvas. It was a lovely sight, but he couldn't help it as a small frown etched over his lips.

Out of all of the days of the year...why did he have to get sick on Halloween?

He had been so excited to go out with his parents and sister. To skip around the streets of London in their costumes on the hunt for massive amounts of candy. But of course with an October chill in the air and his costume far from being on the levels of warm enough, Ciel was made to stay home in his mother and aunt's care while his father took his sister out for the night. 

She had been reluctant to go, persistent to stay by her brother's side in hopes that he would get better sooner, but after a few pushes from her parents, and even Ciel in saying that he didn't want her to miss out on the fun because of him, she had, with time, decided to oblige. But not before running into Ciel's room just as she was about to leave with her fists clenched, empty candy bag in hand with the declaration that she would bring enough candy back for the both of them.

Ciel smiled weakly and thanked her, watching her giggle and run off with their father, grasping his large hand with her smaller one. After they left his room (and after another dose of cough medicine) Ciel had stood from his bed, shakily making his way over to the large window of his room. He peered down, watching as the carriage that had picked them both up exit the terrain of their property, horses pulling and clopping towards the city.

That was 2 hours ago, and now at nearly 8 at night, Ciel sat by himself in bed, staring out his window, breathing slightly broken and nose stuffed up to his throat. 

Usually, he didn't go to sleep this early, but he couldn't help the heaviness that had begun to take over his body, most likely from the effects of his cold. Sleep sounded wonderful, but he also wanted to wait for his sister and father to return home. Perhaps he could rest his eyes for a few moments? Surely they wouldn't be gone for that much longer. He could afford to close his eyes for a minute or two. 

Laying his head back on his pillow, Ciel allowed his heavy eyelids to flutter closed, breathing evening out as the fire of candle on his bedside table seemed to flicker out, leaving him in a tranquil darkness. 

~~~~~~~

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. 5 minutes? An hour? Until a soft poke against his arm and light whispers of his name lulled him out of his unconscious state. The tone was innocent,  pure, and though slightly squeaky, angelic.

"Ciel?" the voice questioned softly, "Are you awake?" 

He groaned, head turning a bit, and he opened his eyes.

The room was rather dark, the moon serving as the only source of light as its silvery beams glistened through the window's still open curtains, highlighting the small stature of the unknown individual at his bedside.   

However, once his vision grew less fuzzy, head less foggy, he realized that he was staring back at a face, a familiar one, one that was looking and blinking at him with a pair of deep, matching blue eyes. And upon that eye contact, the individual's face lit up with a grin, hands bracing the edge of the bed, wrists adorned with lace from the nightgown covering her form . 

"Ciel!" She exclaimed in a whisper, grabbing his hand. 

"Mmmh...Y/N?" the boy asked, sleepily rubbing at his eye, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Father going Trick or Treating?" 

The girl giggled, "I already did, silly. We got home over an hour ago!" 

Ciel's eyes widened slightly as he looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Though it was hard to see because of the night's dark shadows, he could make out the face of the clock. 10:37 PM. Guess he had been asleep longer than he thought. 

"You did?" he mumbled, voice slightly scratchy from his sore throat, "Then why are you in here?"

"I wanted to see you!" You chirped.

Ciel sighed, "But Y/N, it's late. And surely mother and father are still awake. What if they catch you?"

"They didn't notice me when I snuck past the parlor." you shrugged, "And I closed my bedroom door so that way they won't think anything of it!"

Another sigh fell from Ciel's lips. You were too cheeky for your own good and sometimes got away with the most bizarre things. But that was something he loved about you. Even being in slight disbelief, he could feel the inklings of a smile tugging at his slightly chapped lips. 

"So what was so important that it couldn't wait till morning?" he questioned, and you beamed, two holes in your mouth from missing teeth. 

"I wanted to give you something!" you squeaked, "One second."

Suddenly, you ducked downwards, a rustling sound below, before you popped up just as quickly and shimmied your body up onto Ciel's bed, kicking your feet in assistance. He could then see that there was a large, tan colored bag hanging from the crook of your elbow, certainly full to the brim with whatever was inside it. Once you were situated across from him, you slid the bag down your arm, using one hand to pinch the top. Then you flipped the bag over and allowed it's contents to fall onto the bed in one giant heap. 

Ciel's eyes widened, mouth going slightly agape at the mountain of candy that stared back at him. 

Packages of colorful jelly beans, foil and cellophane wrapped toffee, chocolates, fudge, peanut brittle, mints, cream filled caramels, assortments of licorice, bonbons, and even confections from their family's corporation, distinguished by one of the Funtom's Seals. 

There was so much it was nearly overwhelming, but Ciel couldn't help but smile widely at the sight. His sister had certainly kept her heartfelt promise. However, that smile diminished slightly once he had raised his intention to thank the female in front of him, only to find her unwrapping a chocolate and popping the whole thing into her mouth. Ciel stared at you incredulously.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

You looked at him, head tilted confusingly to the side as you chewed.

"Eating."

"Well I KNOW that. But chocolate? This late at night? You'll get cavities."

Regardless of your brother's words, you plucked another sweet from the pile, unwrapping it.

"You know you're starting to sound a lot like father, Ciel." you giggled, placing the candy in your mouth, "Besides, it's Halloween! Today was made for eating candy."

Using your thumb and index finger, you gathered several cream colored candies from the pile, and Ciel's eyes softened at the sight, recognizing them immediately as you held them in your tiny, cupped hands.

"I even asked for extra custard drops since I know they're one of your favorites. Oh and lots of chocolate too!" You said happily, kicking your legs, "Father had to help me carry the bag because it was so heavy and I almost dropped it on the way to your room, so I had to drag it instead. But I just wanted to show you that I kept my promise! Just like I said I would! "

Ciel chuckled softly at your excited demeanor, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, which caused you to giggle more, dropping the candies to grab at his wrist.

"And you certainly did," he said warmly, "Thank you, Y/N."

Several more little giggles fell from your lips at your brothers affection, and you could hear as he too started to laugh lightly, until his breath suddenly caught in his throat, dry coughs plaguing the air as his hand left your head to clutch the part of his nightshirt that was draped over his chest.

Each one still rattled his body, deep and congested, stuck in his diaphragm, making him almost struggle to catch his breath. He thought for sure the medicine and hot tea he'd been drinking all day would have helped, but alas, it didn't.

A soothing hand could be felt rubbing comforting circles into his shoulder blades, another moving to lay over his own hand he had gripping onto his shirt. His eyes were shut, tears slightly prickling the edges, and since his sister was the only one in the room with him, he knew it was her giving him the silent support.

Several more seconds went by before Ciel felt he could finally regain his breath, the process slow, but surely occuring. The burning in his lungs gradually began to subside, the clutch on his nightshirt loosening, the pain lessening. He relished in the feeling of being able to breathe normally again, taking as many slow inhales through his nose as he could, the soft, calming touch of his beloved little sister never faltering.

Once the coughing fit was finally over, Ciel couldn't help but collapse onto his pillow, breathing deep, utterly exhausted.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and opened his eyes, only to see his sister staring back at him, sapphire eyes glistening with worry.

"Are you alright, Ciel? Do you want me to go and get Mother?" she asked, voice small.

He coughed again, this time only once.

"No." He shook his head, closing his eyes once more, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

Biting your lip nervously, you looked down at the bed, focused on the pile of candy that still sat next to you and your ill brother. You hated seeing him so sick and only wished that he would get better as soon as possible...

The gears in your brain clicked and you gasped softly, reaching out to the side.

A small crinkling sound could be heard and Ciel opened his eyes to find your fingers working hastily at the rappers of one of the candies, specifically, a custard drop. Once the marble shaped confection was free from it's clear confines, you shifted closer, holding it directly in front of Ciel's mouth.

"Here," you offered, "Eat one. I bet it will make you feel better."

"Y/N, what if-"

"What Mother and Father don't know won't hurt them," you pushed, "Besides, you're sick and I think that's enough of an excuse to enjoy something sweet. Especially after you've been taking that icky medicine all day."

Ciel chewed on his lip. You did have a point there. Even thinking about the doses of medicine he had taken that day made him bite his tongue in disgust, not to mention the horrible taste it left behind. That, and the terrible increments he'd suffered from cotton mouth after waking up from a nap that had made his appetite falter throughout the day, as nothing really tasted that good. But as you held the candy in front of his mouth, Ciel had actually felt his stomach growl for the first time that day, over something that could hardly be called a meal.

You could certainly be very convincing when you wanted to be.

Leaning forwards slightly, Ciel parted his lips, and you smiled, plopping the cream colored drop into his mouth.

It took less than a second for sweetness to blossom over his taste buds, so inviting and wonderful and delicious. Such a simple, little piece of candy was, in that moment, on the pedestal as one of the best things he'd ever tasted.

You giggled at his widened eyes, and you could swear they were sparkling, so pretty in the silver moonlight. Seeing your brother happy considering that just moments before he was anything but was a wonderful feeling.

It shocked you however, to see him reach towards the candy pile after finishing the one you had offered to him, pulling away with a small package of jellybeans in his hand. He wasted no time in opening them, immediately popping 2 into his mouth. You beamed, following suit with a piece of peanut brittle. After that, he helped himself to a chocolate, and you, a Funtom lollipop.

That's how things continued for close to an hour, the two of you helping yourselves to candy, talking and laughing while making sure you were quiet enough so as to not attract your parents' attention. You told Ciel about the houses you visited and about some of the other costumes the other children wore. How you admitted your bag had been even more full than what you came home with, since you had given a small bit of your candy to a few orphans that were eyeballing other children that walked by, to which your father had told you what a noble action it was.

Though you were young, you were wise, smart, caring, and undoubtedly, very sweet. Sometimes the polar opposite of Ciel. But as you two snacked and spoke late into the night, it was a reminder at how strong of a bond you two had. You both had your ways of making eachother feel better and you had only hoped you succeeded.

And that next morning at breakfast (after sneaking back into your room and clearing up any evidence of empty candy wrappers) you were happy to see that Ciel was sitting at the table, eyes bright, smiling, just how you had wanted him to.

You had run over to hug him, taking your seat immediately after to tuck into breakfast and while your parents chatted amongst themselves, you and Ciel couldn't help trying to keep your laughter about your late night festivities to yourselves, which proved to be quite the challenge indeed.

You and your brother shared many secrets with each other, but this was, by far, the best one.

~~~~~

*Present

Ciel chuckled fondly at the memory. To think it had been 7 years since that night. It was still a humorous thought looking back on it. To compare how they were as children to now. It wasn't too often, but you two had been quite the sneaky pair of siblings when you wanted to be, and it was mostly you that had initiated it. And he knew very well that it could get you both into trouble.

But after your parents died, that trouble making had saved him more times than he could count. Dumb little distractions, stupid shenanigans, pointless conversations that wasted time. He was immensely grateful for all of it.

Glancing up at the clock again, the hands showed that it was now a few minutes past ten. 

No harm in getting them out now. 

He stood up from the bed and walked back around to the other side, now face to face with the large pillows that decorated it. Using one hand as leverage against the mattress, he used the other to pull the fluffy mounds back towards him, revealing a brown paper bag that had been hidden underneath, top folded over to protect the items inside. It crinkled slightly when he picked it up, hanging decently heavy from his fingers as he sat back, pushing his pillows around so they sat how they were supposed to. And it was then he finally heard that anticipated knock at his door. 5 knocks to be exact.

With a start, he stood once again, this time leaving the bag on his nightstand, and allowed his feet to carry him to his bedroom door. It was a natural reflex for him to open it since he knew it was only you who knocked like that, as you had done so for as long as he could remember. And sure enough, it was your face that came into his line of sight upon pulling away the oaken barrier between his room and the hall. 

A teeny smile immediately graced his face upon seeing you standing before him clad in your night time attire and robe, yourself beaming as he moved off to the side.

"Happy Halloween." You sang, and Ciel's smile grew, using a quick hand to usher you inside. You followed his silent command and entered, ears catching the soft click of the door as he shut it behind you. 

He turned to face you, back pressed to the door. 

"Did anyone see you? The servants? Sebastian?" He asked. 

"I don't think so," you confirmed, shaking your head.

"Good." He nodded, "Honestly, it's almost foolish of me to ask that anyways. What are they going to do? Kick us out of the manor because of something we've been doing since we were children?" 

A smirk crossed your lips at his sarcasm, taking small strides towards his bed and he followed suit. 

"To think that you were always so hesitant to do this," you chortled, "Now look at you. Nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet like a child in a toy store." 

Ciel rolled his eyes, "Why do you insist on bringing that up every year?" He asked, sitting down next to you, "Do you enjoy taunting me that much?" 

"Why? Does it show?" You teased, and Ciel scowled, causing you to bite back a laugh.

"I'm kidding," You eased, shaking your head again whilst folding your hands in your lap, looking down at them, "It's just nice to see you so happy and excited about something. Surely you can admit it's a rare feat nowadays, even when I'm concerned. I suppose it's sort of... refreshing in a way." 

You glanced upwards at Ciel's face, catching his softened features in the candlelight. With another quickly approaching smirk, you leaned forward and poked his cheek, his once settled blue eye widening slightly.

"Not to mention adorable." You gushed.

A bright shade of pink immediately coated your brother's face and he scoffed.

"S-shut it, you…" he stuttered, pushing your finger away and you stifled a laugh, pulling away to put some distance between you both.

"Alright, all jokes aside," you started, voice now a little more serious,"I think it's about time we celebrate this harrowing night our way."

You tilted your head towards the paper bag on his nightstand, having not gone unnoticed by you and your keen perception.  With a nod, Ciel stood to retrieve it and was next to you once again mere moments later, fingers working to unfold the top. 

It was exactly what it sounded like. Similar to what you had done for Ciel all those years ago on Halloween had turned into your own little tradition. In whatever way you had acquired candy whether through trick or treating or some other factor, you would both save it and bring it to either your or Ciel's room after curfew, dumping it out and having your near sinful fill until satisfied. 

Trick or Treating had indeed been your method up until your parents had died, and having been overage and too busy running the manor, handling paperwork, and taking on requests from the queen to go out, you both settled on a new way to celebrate that was both beneficial to you and the children that would come to the manor for trick or treating just how you both had done. 

When you were younger, you and Ciel recalled helping your parents create goody bags for Tanaka to hand out the children while the four of you would go into town for the night and you both decided to continue that tradition whilst keeping your own, now putting your servants to the task. Of course, this meant purchasing large amounts of candy from the market, sometimes requiring more than one trip into town. But it was worth it to see the happy, young faces of the children. 

And to make it slightly easier for you both to snatch up a few pieces for yourselves.

As Ciel continued to fumble with the paper bag, you scooted a little closer to his side, "How much were you able to get?" You inquired, and you saw his mouth twist into a childlike pout.

"As much as I was able to," he huffed, voice slightly bitter, "Sebastian was watching those three like a bloody hawk the entire time, especially Finnian. I was only able to take away what was left after they finished the first batch."

You laughed. That was completely understandable. You and Ciel weren't the only ones in the manor that liked sweets.

Now having the bag fully open, Ciel turned it over to dump out it's content's, resulting in a satisfactory amount of candy to pile up before you two, wrapped and colorful, glistening in the candlelight. You clasped your hands together.

"Oooo...not bad Ciel."

"There could have been more…" he said lowly, folding up the bag as you smoothed your hand over the decent sized pile.

"Oh, it's fine." You drawled, nonchalantly waving your hand, "Once I add my share we'll have more than enough."

Ciel watched as you reached into the left sleeve of your robe (which was rather big) resulting in you pulling out another brown paper bag, identical to the one he had had, only yours looked slightly more full than his had been, sloppily twisted at the top.

However, despite the messy state of the bag, opening it and releasing its contents showed a heavy amount of candy that was still intact, certainly creating a more than mediocre pile between you both. A satisfactory "humph" arose from you, hands crumpling up the now empty paper bag.

"Just like I thought." You confirmed, "More than enough. I guess volunteering to assist in making the last of the goody bags was a good move on my end."

Ciel's eye shot up, mouth agape "You didn't..." but you broke him off before he could continue.

"Calm down, I didn't take much." You eased, finger grazing your chin, "Just a handful...or three. And just like you it was more leftovers so it's really not that big of a deal."

Sighing heavily, Ciel pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know what's more impressive. Your sneakiness or your cleverness."

"Hm." You thought, " I'd say the latter. But that's only because I prefer to be thought of as such. Besides, you know you can be just as sneaky as me. If not more."

Ciel scoffed, "Name ONE time-"

"When we found that stray dog outside in the rain covered in mud and you convinced me to help you bring it inside." You recalled, a mischievous glint in your eye that made your brother recoil slightly. But then, laughter tumbled from your lips, cheeks tinting a happy shade of light pink.

"Remember how dirty the floors got? And how FURIOUS Mother was? But Father was standing behind her trying not to laugh because we were absolutely drenched? Oh it was such a mess!"

Your laughter continued to flow through the room, arms encompassing your stomach at the memory, and Ciel soon joined in as a few chuckles rumbled from his chest.

"That it was. But it was fun, though."

"Yes," you agreed, wiping your eye, "Loads of fun."

It was then that you both looked down at the untouched pile of candy between you two.

"Ciel?"

"Yes?"

"Close your eyes."

His brow furrowed slightly, "What are you trying to pull?" he asked, and you frowned.

"How childish do you think I am?"

"Well-"

"Nevermind don't answer that." You said hastily and Ciel snickered. But then, you watched as he abided your wishes and closed his eyes.

In a quick maneuver, you reached downwards at the candy pile, grabbing at a certain section where a specific candy lay.

"Good. Now hold out your hand?"

He did so with no hesitancy.

With a smile, you gently laid the tips of your fingers in his palm, releasing the item you had been holding and pulled your hand away.

"Alright. Now open."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Depends." You shrugged, eyeing him, "Are you fearful of your own flesh and blood?"

"I could never be."

"Then there's your answer."

Taking that to heart, Ciel opened his eyes, vision refocusing as stared down at his cupped hand.

Now, sitting in the center of his palm, small and round, wrapped in cellophane, was a custard drop.

One of his favorites.

He glanced up at you, quietly observing how you sorted through the candy pile with a serene little smile on your face, and after a few moments, selected a golden foil wrapped chocolate from the very top. There was a small crinkling sound as you unwrapped it, momentarily revealing it's rich, brown color before you popped the whole thing in your mouth, humming at its sweetness.

Suddenly, an image of you as a little girl, sitting next to him whilst kicking your legs over the edge of his bed, face covered in chocolate flashed through his mind. And now, looking at you, after all these years. The person he was closest to, his family, one of the biggest positives that his life had to offer him, had changed so much but so little at the same time.

He thought back to what you had said earlier when you greeted him at the door as he placed the custard drop in his mouth, and now even he couldn't help but admit...

What a Happy Halloween it was indeed.

[okay-j-hannah]

May The Best Man Win

The Marauders : Oneshot

James x Reader x Sirius

Word Count: 9358

Warnings: I’m not a big swearer, but I did add something in the end 😂 this turned way angsty, like A LOT, which is what I think the requester wanted 

Request: “y/n can’t choose between James and Sirius. preferably tons and tons of angst” - Anon

A/N: A friendly competition turns sour as these best friends fight for your heart without any good intentions

“This is simple.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!”

Sirius sunk further into his chair, covering his eyes with one hand and another holding an ice cold butterbeer.

James stood from the couch, fingers to his temples, glasses askew, “Listen, I saw her first, therefore I get dibs.”

“You shouldn’t call dibs on a girl,” Remus muttered, his quill whizzing across his essay, “That’s not fair for her or for any other potential suitors.”

Peter peered up at his scarred friend from his place on the rug, “Are you saying you fancy her too, Mooney?”

“You can’t claim the girl just because you saw her first,” Sirius reiterated, continuing to block the firelight as it burned his gaze. “Besides, I was the first one to actually speak to her.”

“Is that true, Prongs?” Peter asked, eyes flipping between all those that were talking.

James messed with his hair again, “Well… that’s only because you caught my snitch as it drifted towards her.”

“So you could say that you led me to her.”

The two friends shared a look, one smirking and one grimacing. James paced in front of the fireplace, loosening his tie as Peter followed him with his gaze. Sirius appeared amused that he not only got the first introduction with this girl, but also in flustering his friend.

“Can I ask – are you two interested in this girl because you actually fancy her, or because you want to beat one another?” Remus asked, taking a heavy sigh and corking his ink bottle.

James appeared affronted while Sirius simply looked tired, “I don’t know, I was rather enjoying seeing Potter break his neck while I wooed the lady.”

“Of course I like her, Mooney, why else does a chap make a fool of himself.”

“Oh, come on, Prongs. You only slipped in the corridor twice,” Sirius mused, taking a sip of his drink. “Forgive me, I didn’t count the time you fell through the Fat Friar – that would make it three times.”

Remus rolled up his parchment and added in a delighted voice, “For a gifted quidditch player you can really trip over nothing, can’t you James.”

Sirius chuckled, sneaking a glance at his pacing friend, “Seeking love is a fools errand.”

“If you really believe that then why are you fighting against me asking (Y/N) out?”

“Are you telling us that you’ve found love at first sight?”

James grimaced, leaning against the mantle, “Not… not necessarily.”

“You just think she’s very pretty?” Remus questioned, now settling into the conversation with his homework done.

“No!”

“Beautiful, then?” Peter suggested. And with a swift look from his peer, he shut his mouth.

“Look, I’ll admit that (Y/N) is very attractive, and she caught my eye…”

Sirius cleared his throat, looking off into the distance, “And every other bloke in the Great Hall.” He practically snickered at the sneer coming from James.

“But you need someone to distract you from Lily Evans consistently rejecting your advances,” Remus delivered mercilessly, “You needed a beautiful rebound to make her jealous.”

Sirius finally sat straight in his chair, eyes uncovered, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

James was overly flustered again, hair seeming to frazzle with static, “Well, it sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.”

“You mean the truth?” Remus muttered, folding his arms to warm his cool hands, “If no one’s going to take into consideration the feelings of this girl, I might as well.”

“Alright, I have a bet,” Sirius stated loudly over Remus. He took a mighty swig of his butterbeer, “We both want a girl for the wrong reasons.”

James frowned, wiping a hand over his face, and Peter interjected, “Prongs wants her for the rebound – what’s your wrong reason, Padfoot?”

“Haven’t you been listening to the conversation?” Sirius continued, “I just wanted to spite him, taking the girl right from under him.” His elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together, “How about we make it a proper competition. You’ll be able to take your mind off Evans and I’ll have something to do other than pantsing Filch and backtalking Minnie.”

The disapproval was immediate on Remus’ face, but he let them finish their statements, knowing precisely when to intervene. James furrowed his brow, a finger between his lips as he contemplated.

“It definitely would make Lily notice.”

“Possibly jealous.”

“And you could build cred that you’re the romantic type.”

“And the ladies will be lining up at my door to get a piece of the action.”

Peter again seemed bewildered at the talk, “I’m sorry, what – what is this proper competition?”

Remus sighed, willing his patience to continue, “These two are disregarding the feelings of a fellow classmate in the hopes that she’ll better their love lives outside of their fake relationship.” When the poor blonde boy seemed even more confused, he added, “Essentially these two want to try and win over (Y/N)’s affection, seeing which one gets it first, and then drop her flat with no consequences.”

“Ah, but the reward will be great,” Sirius stated, grinning, “Breaking one girls heart is worth the dozens that will be willingly given to me afterwards.”

James appeared a bit more skeptical, much to Remus’ satisfaction, “And Lily will realize what she’s been missing out on.”

“You two are impossible,” Remus finally uttered, “I will not condone this; I think you sometimes forget that I am a Gryffindor Prefect.”

“No, I could’ve sworn it was Ravenclaw.”

“Smartass.”

“Besides the point,” Remus waved his hands, light igniting his gaze, “I will not have you play with this girls emotions and then drop her brokenhearted and despising you for the rest of our time at Hogwarts, if not the rest of our lives.”

Sirius let there be a pause after the statement before continuing with a kind of vigor, “Well, now that we’ve gotten the grouchy warning out of the way. I’d say we put it to a vote.”

James nodded, “All in favor of this proper competition for the affections of the one (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He raised his hand along with Sirius.

After another tense pause and a threatening glare from Sirius, an intimidated Peter reluctantly rose his hand. Remus gave a heavy sigh, crossing his arms tighter against his chest, “This happens every time – you can’t will Peter to your side in every argument.”

“Well, at least for this one, we have,” Sirius laughed, rising from his chair and waltzing over to his friend for a bone crushing handshake, “May the best man win.”

James returned the aggressive grip, staring into the mischievous glint in Sirius’ eyes, “And upon agreement, we do not let her know of this competition, this is (Y/N) falling for us naturally using our own wit and charm.”

“Therefore, I will be gaining the advantage because I am overflowing with both.”

Peter chimed in with a nervous smile, “And we can’t persuade her to go for one of you over the other?”

“No, we’ll use you as spies,” James continued, massaging his crushed hand, “If she decides to talk to you about one of us, you are legally bound to tell us everything she said.”

“And if we tell you to pass along particular information, you will please do exactly that.” Sirius returned to his chair but opted for leaning against the back of it. “And the competition will only end when she is given the ultimatum and has chosen one of us.”

James nodded, pulling his tie even looser, “And we have by the end of the school year – if she hasn’t chosen by then we’ll give her the final question before exams.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Remus huffed, “Don’t lay a question like that on the girl before exams; at least wait until after when she has nothing else to worry about.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ll have to think about that,” Sirius gloated, “Because I’ll make her fall months before final exams.”

~~~

(Y/N) wandered the corridor, a very peculiar incident waying on her mind. She just had the most bewildering interaction with James Potter right outside the Great Hall. The boy was all in a tither, apparently at the end of a rather exhausted sprint down the main staircase.

“Good – Good afternoon, (Y/N),” he had huffed. “How are you?”

She smiled, puzzled, “I’m fine, thank you. You don’t seem to be, though.” She gave him a hesitant look and watched as he awkwardly tried to gather himself.

“Right, yes – it’s hard to run down stone stairs without falling – takes all my concentration; especially when my focus is elsewhere.” He gazed at her behind his squared glasses, hoping he wasn’t being too subtle.

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, scrunching her face as she thought, “What’s on your mind?”

When he grinned at her reply, she couldn’t help but find him quite cute. His gleaming smile complimented his light eyes and dark hair well. Of course she had heard of Potter, him and all of his boisterous friends, but she’d never found herself caught up in a one-on-one conversation with him.

Just the other day she ran into his best mate, Sirius, in the Great Hall. And from that interaction it appeared he’d never laid eyes on her before. Perhaps he said something to James?

“I saw you crossing the corridor. I was trying to think of something clever to say.”

It was incredibly apparent that James was feigning a kind of bravado that his friend Sirius had once shown her. But all too noticeably she was able to pick out the hesitance and anxiety behind his words.

It made her smile even more as he peered down through his unbalanced glasses.

“And you came up with ‘good afternoon’?” she snickered, readjusting her heavy book bag. “You sure it took all of your concentration? Seems a bit obvious.”

This time he laughed along with her, finding his hands itching to fidget with his snitch. How was he supposed to focus on befriending (Y/N) when he had Sirius’ obnoxious face in the back of his mind? He could practically hear his friend mocking his conversational direction.

“Yeah, you got me,” he sighed, “I saw you and my mind went blank.”

She paused momentarily, letting that sentence tense the room. He appeared to sense the shift, messing with his hair even more, which she noticed with a skip in her heartbeat. What could she say? It was cute.

“Well – I’ve got to get studying.” She gestured her path set for the oak front doors, “I promised myself I would ace McGonagall’s exam.”

James saw his opportunity immediately and chose to seize it, “I’ve been meaning to study too! Do you want a study partner? I’m completely hopeless, but I have no doubt you could put me to good use.”

She couldn’t deny the plea in his gaze. Did he really want to? Why would he, all of the sudden? They were never great friends before. But when his tousled hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the skip in her chest wouldn’t allow her to refuse.

“Sure, if you don’t mind going outside. I like walking along the forbidden forest and sitting in the pumpkin patch.”

Her acceptance was enough to make James bounce on the balls of his feet, “Perfect.” He leaned towards the front doors and she took the hint to lead the way. In another stroke of genius he reached out a hand, “Let me carry your bag; you look about ready to collapse under the weight.”

“Are you calling me weak, Potter?”

He smirked at the use of his last name, “Absolutely not. It’s just, I told you I was hopeless with the studying. Maybe my uses will fall under ‘pack mule.’”

It made her laugh enough that she willingly shrug the bag off her shoulder and into his hands.

He liked the sound of her laugh. It was the kind of laugh that infected everything within its vicinity. It even made him want to join her, but he chose to offer a pleasant smile.

In that unsavory part in the back of his head, James could see Sirius unwillingly placing a point under ‘Potter.’ It looked like he was getting the head start.

Back in the Gryffindor dormitories, Sirius was brooding against his window, staring down at the grounds. He was witnessing the playful interactions between James and (Y/N) in the pumpkin patch.

They each sat on their own massive pumpkins, which were grown to colossal size for the Halloween festivities. They appeared to be laughing, James distracting her from whatever she was reading.

James quickly snatched the book from her hands, and she jokingly nudged his arm in protest. He held the book high and laughed at her pout.

It made Sirius clench his fists against the stone wall. If only he had gotten to her first. He would have to put some extra effort into getting on her good side after today. Just the way she sneaked glances at James when he wasn’t looking already put Sirius on edge.

There was no way James was more charming then him. Sure they were a pair, but James was the one good at sports, family dinners, and sneaking around the castle with his invisibility cloak. Sirius was the one good with wit, flirting, and sneaking them in and out of trouble.

He couldn’t help but think of how much more capable James was with relationships too. He was always a bit more open and willing to share then Sirius ever was.

“If you ground into that wall any harder, I fear the stone will start to turn to dust.” Remus laughed aloud, in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap with Peter.

Sirius had to will his hand out of its clenched fist. “Just look how far he’s gotten. She all over him!”

“Shoving him away is hardly the definition of ‘all over him.’” Remus corrected, placing another card on his tower, “They’re simply being friendly.”

“Your heart isn’t in the game, Mooney. I can’t trust your judgement.”

Sirius watched as the sun began to dip and James offered another stroll towards the Black Lake. How dare he! That was Sirius’ move.

“You spoke to her first, didn’t you?” His tone was flat, but Remus always had the need to cheer his friends. “I doubt she’s forgotten you so quickly.”

“You’re not seeing the way she looks at him.”

“It’s only been a few days, Padfoot,” Peter muttered, always afraid to be snapped at for his opinion. “(Y/N)’s sensible – she’ll weigh her options carefully. You’ve got plenty of time to show her what you have to offer.”

Surprisingly, Sirius didn’t feel the need to belittle Peter, “I’m just going to have to think of a more memorable event. Sure James could bump into her and do some homework outside. But that’s not so significant, students do homework every day.”

“What do you consider an insignificant event?” Peter paused his turn at the Exploding Snap tower, sensing the uneasiness in Remus’ brow.

“Please don’t tell me your intentions include the hospital wing?” Remus asked.

Sirius tried to watch the couple out the window with the darkness descending on them. “It won’t be needed if I can catch her in time.”

Remus widened his tired eyes, Peter attempting to match the mood. “What are you thinking, Sirius? Don’t be doing anything stupid. Getting expelled isn’t worth this bet.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s nothing to be worried about – not by you two.” He retreated to his bed, stretching out with a new air of confidence, “Damsels in distress can’t resist a prince charming.”

“I have to insist, Sirius.”

He rolled his eyes, “If I tell you, there’s a chance James will find out. I don’t need any interference.”

“So help me,” Remus glowered, “If I find out this girl is incapacitated because of your tomfoolery…”

“Relax, Mooney – all’s fair in love and war.”

~~~

The rain was falling into a lazy drizzle, calming the cold that had plagued them that morning. (Y/N) followed the stone steps outside and up towards the owlery, protecting her letters from the last remnants of rainfall.

She dwelled on her conversation with her good friend Mary MacDonald last night. It was a much needed vent about the last few weeks, and Mary was more than willing to listen. She was always a sweet friend.

“James Potter? Are you serious?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) had said, “And we walked along the forest and the lake well into the night. We just talked and talked, and it was actually… really nice.”

“I always thought Potter was a bit of a pompous prat.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Sometimes that does shine through, but I’m getting good at knocking him off his high horse when it does.”

Mary ran a hand through her hair, thinking, “Have you done anything since then?”

“To tell you the truth it’s like he can’t leave me alone. He keeps cropping up in all sorts of places – it’s like I can’t refuse him as a friend now. It’s usually when I’m studying in the Great Hall or the library; he shows up with treats or ideas about walking the quidditch pitch.”

There was a strange glint now entering Mary’s eyes. She let (Y/N) ramble on some more, waiting for some dire information.

“I’ll admit it’s been fun, it’s definitely confusing, but also fun. I’m starting to get used to having him around – he’s always cracking jokes. He knows how to make me laugh. And...”

“Oh, and his hair, right? How he’s always ruffling it around,” Mary put an edge of mockery in her tone, but she was thrilled with the wide eyed reaction from (Y/N). “And his glasses…”

(Y/N) stared at her friend for a moment too long before a blush betrayed her, “… they’re always crooked.”

Mary nodded to herself, a fist under her chin and a smug look on her face. “You like him, don’t you?”

She gave it a lot of thought, “I don’t know. He’s cute and I enjoy being around him. But it’s too soon to tell.”

“It seems pretty obvious to me,” Mary concluded, pointing at her friend accusingly, “You have feelings for James Potter.”

(Y/N) began to retort, “We’ve only been hanging out for a week!”

“And he’s obviously been doing something right because you are still thinking about that week.”

Now as (Y/N) climbed the staircase towards the owlery, she sighed. Maybe she did feel something for James. She couldn’t deny the skipping of her heart every time he brushed her shoulder with his.

After tying her letters to nearby barn and screech owls, (Y/N) went for her favorite spot just outside the tower. She sat on the railing and let her legs swing in the open air, taking a deep breath of the crisp wind.

The stone was still damp from the ceasing rain and it made her fingertips cold touching it. She had hoped the fresh air would clear her head of her recent puzzling thoughts and feelings. But the longer she sat there, the more she found her mind fogging up.

What was she doing sitting on the railing? How did she get up there?

Shaking her head a bit, (Y/N) tried to turn herself around but found another wave of confusion hit her.

Where was she, again?

And reflexively scooching to one side to peer at her surroundings, (Y/N) found herself unbalanced and sliding off whatever she was sitting upon. Was this a railing?

She began to slip off the damp stone, a sudden shriek on her lips. Her feet found no traction as they descended further, and her hands grappled for any kind of purchase. In just a few seconds she was dangling from the edge of the staircase, fingers cold and numb against the rough bricks.

She couldn’t find her voice as she struggled to wedge a foot along the side. Heavy breaths came from her lungs as whimpers escaped her.

But in another few seconds, she heard another’s voice.

“Woah! What are you doing?”

Frantically turning her gaze upward, (Y/N) saw a familiar face. Sirius Black?

“H-Help.”

He copied her panicked face, fumbling with stowing his wand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” His hands found hers and he began to hoist her up.

(Y/N) scrambled over the edge, feeling the numbness that started in her fingers trail through the rest of her body. She could hardly comprehend the way she fell into Sirius’ arms, clutching at his cloak out of sheer panic.

“Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, (Y/N).”

He felt the shivers racking her body as he held her to him. An unexpected pang of guilt shot through him. She had fistfuls of his cloak, fear plain in her eyes as she stared at a fixed point ahead.

“Are you all right?” When she didn’t respond, Sirius tried cupping her face, turning her gaze to him. “Are you all right, (Y/N)?”

She looked at him hard, blinking furiously as warmth began to seep back into her bones. “I – um… I think so.”

“You’re not hurt at all?”

She stared at the way his face changed when he asked it. A crease formed between his eyebrows and his eyes were set upon hers. She started to feel his hands on her cheeks and a sudden rush of heat flooded them.

“No, no – I think I’m good.”

That warmth began to unfreeze her limbs, her mind no longer so foggy. She took a deliberate step away from Sirius, embarrassed by the momentary close contact.

He held his hands up, noticing the swift retreat, “Hey, I’m just checking. You look a little shaken.”

She looked around her, “I don’t understand,” she muttered.

“What were you doing sitting on the edge of the stairs? You do realize it was raining this morning.”

She looked harder but couldn’t find any reason. She must’ve just slipped, though she’d sat on that railing for years and never fallen. “I come up here to think. I’ve never fallen before.”

He nodded but kept a concerned look on his face, “You seem a little dazed. Maybe you should visit the hospital wing – Madam Pomfrey might have something to calm you down.”

“I told you I was all right.”

“I know, but it would make me feel better if you got checked out anyways.”

Was her mind still foggy or was Sirius Black showing genuine concern? She snapped her gaze back to his and realized that the arrogant flirt from that day in the Great Hall was completely gone. It was almost bewildering to see his face without the smugness or the classic smirk.

Her stomach churned, whether from leftover fear or freshly made nerves, she didn’t know. But she was compelled to return the compassion.

“Thank you,” she said, “For pulling me up.”

A smile returned to his features, “It’s no problem. Damsels are my specialty.”

So the arrogant flirt was still in there.

“It was lucky you came over here. I would’ve been a goner.”

She waited for him to say something obnoxious like ‘yeah, you are lucky, princess,’ or ‘just call me savior from now on.’ But he caught himself with his mouth agape, it was a calculated hesitance.

“I’m glad,” he said, more sincerity in his tone. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Her stomach did another involuntary flip. Did Sirius always have such a nice smile? She never realized how kind it was, or how warm his eyes were.

“Can we stop by the hospital wing real quick?”

“We?” she murmured, still dazed by the sudden rush of epiphanies.

He chuckled, “I’d like to follow through, if you don’t mind. What if you slipped on your way down to the castle?”

(Y/N) recognized the chuckle as something to accompany a witty remark, but this time it was partnered with a warm gaze and a slanted brow.

“Sure,” she said, hesitantly. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re acting strange.”

He laughed again, leading the way back down the stairs, respectfully keeping his distance from her now. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” (Y/N) hid her hands in her pockets, hoping the redness had dulled in her cheeks, “You haven’t said anything irritatingly pretentious yet.”

He let out a low whistle, “The damsel bites back.” She didn’t say anything more so he shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to assume I’m like that all the time.”

Had she made assumptions? She had only spoken to him that one other time in the Great Hall.

~~~

There was a very clear thwack as the portrait swung closed. Mumblings could be heard from the Fat Lady and a string of first and second years scrambled to move their things elsewhere and avoid the coming carnage.

James came tromping towards the corner of comfy couches the marauders normally occupied, finding the trio he was seeking.

“You have some explaining to do,” he pointed at Sirius, “And it better be lengthy and detailed.”

The venom was perfectly seen in his words, and it only made the victory that much sweeter in Sirius’ eyes. “Yes, Prongs?”

“How unrelentingly pig-headed are you? How much of a conniving, thieving git are you?” James began to rise his voice much to the growing grin on Sirius’ face.

Remus began to contort his brow, “What’s happened, James?”

“What’s happened is that Sirius has no regard for (Y/N)’s safety. Apparently it was thrown out the window when he decided to toy with her to get back at me.”

“Who said anything about getting back at you? I’m just playing the game.” Sirius was much too relaxed on the sofa for James’ liking.

Peter piped up, “What’s happened to (Y/N)?” He had grown quite fond of the girl whenever they met in the library. She was always kind to him when he struggled with assignments.

“Sirius landed her in the hospital wing!” James hissed, “She just told me downstairs.”

Remus rounded on their friend, “You said you wouldn’t let it get that far!”

“You knew about it!”

“Is (Y/N) all right?”

Sirius yelled the loudest, “Alright, you pansies, calm yourselves. (Y/N) is fine.”

“Not before she was almost thrown off the side of the owlery.”

Remus felt his jaw drop, “You shoved her off the stairs?”

Sirius jumped to his feet, “Now, now, Mooney – let’s not fall to any conclusions. (Y/N) was sitting on the railing and I simply nudged her into the perfect position for a rescue.”

James was fighting the urge to sock his friend in the face. “By having her fear for her life, dangling on the side of a mountain?”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t meant to go that far.”

“Then how far, exactly?” Remus urged, “Be careful, Sirius – I might not hold James back from hitting you.”

“I just sent a little confundus charm her way while she was sitting there so she would forget why she was there in the first place. Then I thought I’d surprise her, she’d jump a bit, I’d steady her so she wouldn’t fall… easy.”

James had to cross his arms very tightly to keep them from swinging, “And you took the charm too far?”

Sirius felt a familiar pang of guilt, the look of terror on (Y/N)’s face as she clutched at him resurfacing in his memory. “Perhaps. But she’s all right, isn’t she? I took her to the hospital wing just to make sure, and Madam Pomfrey said after a nights rest she’d be fine!”

The silence was tense and anxious. Remus looked ready to attack Sirius just as much as James wanted to, but maybe not as ferociously. Peter cowered in the corner, wishing to run from the fight.

Sirius was the only one with a casual look on his face, “You two are overreacting.”

“I can’t believe you would put (Y/N) into such unnecessary danger,” Remus remarked.

“You’re overlooking the benefits, though,” Sirius continued, “Clearly (Y/N) has been talking about me. Clearly she has me on her mind, exactly where I want to be.” He stared smugly at James, relishing in his fuming state.

James couldn’t comprehend the fury he was feeling. How dare Sirius take such measures. How dare he hurt someone he cared about.

Wait.

Someone he cared about?

“This isn’t a game anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is (Y/N) we’re talking about,” James reiterated, “She isn’t a chess piece – she’s our friend. You clearly are taking it way too far. I thought charm and flirting would’ve sufficed, but you want to throw in some death defying stunts…”

Sirius held his hands up, his smugness melting away, “Easy – you don’t think I was worried about her too? I’m sensing a little more than anger here, Prongs.”

James swallowed hard, his face set, “That might be my restraint in killing you right now.”

“No, no – I think you’re hiding some other unresolved feelings.” Saying the words did uneasy things to his chest, much to his chagrin. “Perhaps you’ve been enjoying your time with (Y/N) more than you thought.” Just the idea made unwanted jealousy bubble in his stomach.

Why would he feel that?

James had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something rash. From giving himself away.

“Just stay away from her – for a little while. I think you’ve traumatized her; she won’t go across a bridge without someone with her.” He began to retreat, coolness to his tone, wishing to be alone now.

“And let you get ahead? I don’t think so.”

James stopped in his tracks for only a second before thinking better of the situation and leaving the common room.

The remaining three sat in silence for a few minutes, Sirius finally feeling able to let his guard down and appear sulky. Peter flickered his beady eyes between his companions as Remus attempted to study Sirius’ face.

“Are you all right?”

Sirius barely sneered, “What?”

“We were so busy worrying about (Y/N), we didn’t ask how you were.” Remus tilted his head in thought, “You did almost send the girl to her death.”

The unwanted heat in his chest made Sirius stir uncomfortably, “It was a surprise.”

Remus knew better and waited for his friend to build up the courage to continue.

“When she fell over… for a split second – I didn’t know what to do.” He paused and waited to see if someone would stop him. He tried with difficulty to gather his thoughts, “I was terrified. I was angry at myself.”

There was another bout of silence and it appeared that Remus was satisfied with the outcome of his questioning. Sirius was relieved, it was overwhelmingly hard for him to describe his feelings.

“James isn’t going to forgive so easily.”

“I know that.”

“And (Y/N) doesn’t know her fall wasn’t accidental?”

“If she did I doubt she would’ve let me walk her back to her dormitory.” There was a distant look in Sirius as he thought of the memory. He was finally able to get her to smile again right before saying goodnight.

~~~

Mary was more skeptical than ever as they trudged through the snow covered grounds. It seemed impossible.

How could both James Potter and Sirius Black be fawning over her best friend?

“And then what did he do?”

“He pointed out the mistletoe and looked at me expectantly. And what was I supposed to do?” (Y/N) mused, almost embarrassed by how much she liked the moment.

“So you kissed him?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed – I thought you were team James from the beginning.”

Mary didn’t respond right away, “How was it?”

(Y/N) appeared to like that question, “Merlin, I’ve never had so many butterflies. He kissed me once, real quick. And it looked like he was going to say something, so I just went for another one!” She kicked a pile of snow, entirely too happy to remark on the few flakes that fell on her face. “And before I knew it, we were on the couch.”

“You didn’t…?”

“No, we just kissed.” (Y/N) said quickly, “But it was the best kiss I think I’ve ever had.”

The retellings of the Christmas weekend were definitely something to behold. Both Black and Potter decided to try and one up the others time with (Y/N). It appeared that Mary was the only one to have noticed. Merlin only knows what Sirius will do once he figured out James had kissed (Y/N).

“Well, what about Sirius? Did you two do anything over the weekend?”

“We spent Sunday with Remus and got in a snowball fight. Sirius shoved snow down my cloak like the git he is. But when we walked back to the castle he asked if I was all right.”

“He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Seems to wait for when no one is around.”

(Y/N) felt defiant, “Sirius doesn’t like people to know he’s a good guy. He has to keep up appearances, you know.”

Mary found the sudden urge to list the pros and cons of the boys laid out before them. “But James has never struggled with showing you how he feels.”

“But have you seen him around the quidditch pitch? I could climb to the moon on the ego he has while on a broomstick.”

“But he also is a gentleman – he carries your books, takes you out to Hogsmeade, brings you treats…”

(Y/N) blew hot air between her numb hands, “Yeah, but no one asks me how I’m doing more than Sirius. And he is determined to make sure I’m not lying; he hates it when I say, ‘I’m fine.’” She fiddled with her pockets as a frown soured her face, “And I’m pretty sure I caught James pining over Lily Evans the other day.”

That startled Mary a bit, “Did they use to go out?”

“No, but James fancied her a lot! Peter told me. She rejected him something fierce.”

“And you think he’s still stuck on her?”

“Maybe.” The grimace didn’t suit (Y/N). “And then there’s Sirius – the perpetual bachelor.”

Mary snuck a smile, “Yeah, but Sirius always has a string of girls wanting to go out with him. He lets his good looks get to his head.”

“Sometimes I think he doesn’t believe he’ll ever find someone,” (Y/N) mumbled, “I know his arrogant, witty side is a front. He almost gets nervous whenever I try to make a move.”

“Really?” Mary dramatized, “I thought Sirius Black never got nervous.”

“That’s cause you haven’t taken the time to get to know him.”

Mary nudged her further, “And what about James? Does he have some secret?”

(Y/N) pondered thoughtfully, “I think he’s scared no one likes him compared to Sirius. He has a good heart and comes from a wealthy family. But he wants to make a name for himself, so he puts everything he has into his friends and quidditch. He gets jealous quite a lot.”

“Interesting.”

“And that’s not even mentioning Sirius and his family. Man, I thought I didn’t get along with my parents, you should look at his.” She found herself taken slower and slower steps, her voice now lowering, “You know his entire family is in Slytherin? And he’s a Gryffindor… that should be enough to speak for his character. He despises what his family represents.”

“I didn’t know that.” Mary was now beginning to understand the predicament that (Y/N) had found herself in.

Both of these boys were setting up a dangerous game. One that was going to end only in heartbreak and guilt. And Mary didn’t like that her best friend was tangled in the middle of it.

“What are you going to do?”

(Y/N) paused, halting her steps. “You mean – who am I going to choose?”

“I don’t think you should let it go on much farther. I think both of them are falling for you and eventually one of them is going to be let down, and you’re going to feel terrible for doing it.”

They stood there ankle deep in snow as the gears turned in (Y/N)’s head. Mary could’ve sworn steam was beginning to come out of her ears.

“I don’t know if I can choose.”

Mary frowned, “Well, you need to explore your options. You obviously care for both of them, now you just need to figure out which one you love.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard at the thought: love.

“I haven’t kissed Sirius yet.”

“No, you haven’t,” Mary continued, helping the thinking aloud process. “But just because you can kiss them doesn’t mean you love them.” She was painfully aware of the numbness creeping into her stone cold feet, but (Y/N) didn’t appear to be.

And another set of footprints was coming their way, crunching in the snow.

“Oh, I think that’s James now. Act as if we haven’t been talking about him this whole time.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as they were joined, “Hello, James.”

“Hi, (Y/N) – Mary. How are you?” His cheeks were rosy with the cold, his pale complexion making his ruffled hair stand out. He was staring only at (Y/N) as he asked the question.

She felt her heart throb, “I think my fingers are frostbit, but other than that, perfectly fine.” She laughed his favorite laugh.

“Well, no wonder; you’re not wearing any gloves.” And there was no hesitation as he reached for her hands to warm them up between his. He blew hot air between her fingers and rubbed them together.

(Y/N) was mesmerized, her flushed cheeks growing to down her neck. Mary noticed but didn’t say anything, only smirked.

“Better?” He stared at her with eyes alight with something Mary could only describe as adoring.

(Y/N) smiled, “Much.” She intertwined their fingers, asking him to join them back towards the castle.

~~~

“I think we have a problem.” Remus saw first, peering down the table at where James and (Y/N) were eating together. “I think our friend is losing sight of the goal.”

Sirius sat begrudgingly beside him, “Doesn’t he realize that every time he looks at Lily, (Y/N) notices?”

Speaking of the redhead, Lily Evans made her way down the aisle of seats to take one beside some other Gryffindors. James flickered his eyes to her before returning them to a suddenly much more sullen (Y/N).

Sirius practically growled into his dinner, “If he actually cared about (Y/N), he’d spare her feelings and go for Evans.”

Remus didn’t dare remark how at the beginning of the school year the pair of them were both ignoring (Y/N)’s feelings for a petty competition.

“Don’t be mean, Padfoot,” Peter whispered across the platters, “Just because they’ve kissed…”

He didn’t want the reminder. His fist clenched involuntarily beneath the table. “I can’t believe I’m losing. There’s no way he wants her more than I do.”

Perhaps he meant to say it just to himself, but it was loud enough for Remus to hear. The scarred boy felt sympathetic, looking to Sirius with a wary glance.

“Do you mean that?” Maybe he could give Sirius a much needed epiphany. “You want her?”

There was a silence as Sirius pounded away at his feelings. He felt them creeping up on him – making his heart race, his lungs constrict, his palms sweaty. He never used to feel that way. He was afraid to feel that way.

But he had tried to deny them for months now. After the mistletoe incident during Christmas, he had seemed to lose much of his persistence. His resolve was that he wanted (Y/N). Wanted her badly. But James had gotten there first.

Stupid, wonderful James. Of course she’d go for him.

Sirius looked at his best friend and knew he couldn’t ruin it for him. James deserved to be happy. Sirius couldn’t be selfish. As much as it now pained Sirius to see them together, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he stole (Y/N) right from under James.

But what if she came willingly?

Oh, shut up.

Sirius had simply given up trying to win (Y/N)’s affections. At this point, he was just waiting for the final verdict. He still spent as much time as he could with her without breaking his heart. He just knew that she preferred spending that time with James.

And he was okay with that…

He was learning to be okay with that.

Remus caught himself falling into a pained grimace as he watched the rainbow of emotion reflect in Sirius’ face.

His friend was suffering while the other prospered. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve known it for a while now.”

Sirius swallowed hard, flexing his fists on his knees. “I think we have to give her the ultimatum soon. The Easter holidays are next week – we could give her till after. She could have the whole break to think about it. James and I are staying here anyways, it’ll be perfect.”

Remus still looked at him skeptically, “I should’ve stopped this bet before it got so serious.” They didn’t say anything, and Remus continued, “I think you both didn’t expect to fall for her so easily.”

“She’s easy to love.”

Remus tried not to have such a noticeable reaction. He knew the slightest hint towards that conversation would scare Sirius right off. “Maybe you should talk to her.” He pointed towards the couple rising from their seats, James kissing the back of (Y/N)’s hand.

Sirius didn’t respond as James came waltzing back towards them. He didn’t even see the still sullen look on (Y/N)’s face as she retreated.

“Evening, boys,” James mused, “I would like to say that I’m feeling rather good about my prospects. I do believe I’m going to win this bet.”

Sirius felt his hands shake, “And once you do, are you going back to Evans?”

“Sorry?” James wiped the smirk from his face.

“That was the point, wasn’t it? Get the rebound to make Lily jealous.”

James paused to think of a proper response, “Sure, to make Lily jealous, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go for her again.”

A slow nod, “So you’re planning on going steady with (Y/N).”

Remus flickered his eyes between his two friends, he tried to interpret the look on James’ face. Did he realize what these words were doing to Sirius?

“If she’ll have me, yeah.”

Sirius had to rise from his seat after that. “Excuse me.”

He sped down the aisle of seats, heart beating rapidly beneath his burning chest. There was only one face he wanted to see, one that he wanted to hold. It was almost involuntary how fast he scoured the corridors outside the Great Hall. All he knew was that he wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her, show her.

And there she was continuing her retreat back to her common room.

“(Y/N)!” he sped ever quicker, a painful throb echoing in his chest. He noticed her slow her steps, but not turn to look at him. “What’s going on?”

He was met with a distressed look on her face, “Hello, Sirius.”

“Are you all right?”

There was a flicker of a smile gracing her features, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me,” he stated, staring into her downtrodden eyes.

“I don’t know what to do.” When she met his gaze it was like fire. “I – I don’t understand how I can choose.”

Sirius had an inkling about what she was referring too. As always he kept a respectable distance, not wishing to overwhelm her, though the burning in his chest tried to will him to hold her.

“Choose?”

“I’ve noticed James sort of pining over Lily. And when he does it makes me sad. Like I’m not the only girl for him.”

You’re the only girl for me.

“But when it’s just us two it’s like nothing else matters. I really do like him – but he’s not the only one on my mind.”

Sirius swallowed hard, “Yes?”

She stared up at him, guilt plainly visible. “But I don’t exactly know how he feels.” She remembered the way Sirius had held her face back when she tumbled off the owlery tower. The thought made her cheeks redden.

Sirius noticed, feeling that familiar churning in his stomach, something he usually fought against. But his hand betrayed him, reaching out to graze her blush with just his fingertips. His head yelled at him to stop, but his heart yearned to go further.

“And if you knew, it would help?”

“The plainer the better.” Her breathing hitched at the way his gaze melted into hers.

And then he was just inches away, his breath just as unsteady as hers against her lips. The fire seared through them as they connected, (Y/N) going limp but Sirius clamping his hands on either side of her face.

Every ounce of him screamed of desperation, of a longing for this moment. It was making (Y/N) dizzy, her lungs momentarily forgetting how to work. Sirius pulled away, catching his breath and leaning his forehead against hers.

“Does that tell you plain enough?”

She shivered at his whisper, “In the only way you can tell it. That’s always been you, Sirius – few words, full action.” She caught herself smiling but being confused at the contorted look on his face.

“You should take the Easter holidays. Think it through.” He finally backed away, though his hands held onto her for a fraction of a second longer, “We’ll respect your decision, no matter what it is.”

And unable to stand her gaze any longer, he ran off to the solitude of the Black Lake.

~~~

Peter shuffled uncomfortably at the Hogsmeade train station, Remus steady at his side. Steady, but concentrating on calming his nerves.

“How long does it take to get off the train?”

Remus sighed, “She’s probably getting every free second she can before facing us.”

The two of them were instructed to escort (Y/N) back to the castle, both James and Sirius agreeing the coming conversation would be handled better nearer to their dormitories.

James was afraid (Y/N) would pull a fast one and choose Sirius, even though they had a more intimate relationship.

Sirius was afraid that (Y/N) would pick James regardless of his moment of vulnerability with her. He couldn’t help but convince himself that she would want someone more apt at demonstrating public displays of affection.

Therefore, the duty was laid to Remus and Peter, the two that would ensure her safety and counsel her where it was needed.

Remus was collecting his thoughts as she quietly stepped off the train and onto the platform. He quickly offered to carry her trunk to the nearest carriage, “(Y/N)! How was your holiday?”

She gave a heavier sigh than expected, “Not long enough.”

Peter tip toed around to give her a hug, “We missed you. All of us.”

She tried to hold back a grimace, but followed them to the carriage, “They haven’t been giving you grief, have they?” There was a pause that confirmed her suspicions, “Of course they would be.”

“They’re anxious to see you,” Remus stated, sitting beside Peter, “They’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sirius more depressed. And James has dug an imprint in the rug from all his pacing,” Peter prattled, not taking much heed to his words. “It’s been a long week for them as well.”

(Y/N) frowned, “Yeah, I’ve been much the same. Thank you – for meeting me.”

The ride back up to the castle was mostly silent, Peter squirming and Remus remaining rigid. (Y/N) could feel them both wondering the same thing: what was her decision? It sent more anxiety flooding threw her at the thought.

Peter appeared to be getting at his wits end as the school loomed every closer, “(Y/N)… can I ask?”

“Hmm?”

He swallowed, “Who won?”

That took her aback. What an odd way to phrase it. “Won?” Remus attempted to subtly nudge his friend a warning, but (Y/N) quickly caught it. “You mean won my affections? Who beat the other? How silly – you make it sound like a competition.”

She smiled but felt a wave of paralysis at the stony response from the other two. Peter looked absolutely petrified as Remus seemed to collect himself quicker.

“Yes, a very silly way to put it. He meant, who did you choose? Of course.”

“Are you…” she peered at them, her mind overworking. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, not at all,” Remus said all too quickly, “We’re just looking out for our friends.”

(Y/N) seemed more and more skeptical. The way these two were sitting uncomfortably put her on edge. There was clearly something going on and she knew exactly who to target for further questioning.

“Peter?”

The small blonde boy widened his eyes in fear, knowing his own resolve will be corrupted immediately. Remus seemed to think this too, closing his eyes to hide his exhausted defeat.

“What are you hiding? Has it got something to do with James and Sirius?”

Peter felt his own head nod without consent from his mind. He also felt a second jab to the ribs from Remus.

“Well, what is it?” She felt her heart beat faster. She knew it had something to do with what she said before. “Is… does it have to do with some competition?”

Peter turned towards his taller friend with a pleading look, very quietly saying, “It was a kind of competition.”

~~~

James and Sirius waited in the grounds near the pumpkin patch that was now filled with spring weeds and flowers.

A new imprint in the dirt spoke of James’ pacing, his hands being wrung before him. He kept straightening his hair to no avail, his skewed glasses falling farther and farther down his nose. He couldn’t understand how Sirius could stand so still near him.

Sirius was a statue, the only evidence of life being the quickened pulse and strenuous breaths working his lungs. He was determined not to show his reaction to her picking James. He was practicing now – practicing in keeping his composure.

It got harder as he saw students begin to flood the school gates. He watched James pause his frantic steps, straining to find their friends. Sirius refrained from doing it too, knowing that if he let himself he would begin to unravel.

James clutched his fidgeting hands together, spotting (Y/N), Remus, and Peter near the back of the crowd. A grin split his features and he bounced on his toes, “There they are!”

The two of them had hardly spoken a word all week, each wondering how their friendship would be after one of them was chosen. It was still hard to feel that the ‘best man should win,’ when each hoped that they’d be picked.

Sirius peered at the three figures making their way towards them across the grounds. Remus and Peter seemed less eager to reach them, carrying a trunk and keeping their heads down. (Y/N), on the other hand, was determinedly marching her way over.

It was plain to see that those steps were fueled with a kind of vigor. A kind of anger. And it seemed like James was beginning to recognize it too. He retreated a few steps to stand beside Sirius.

“Does she look upset to you?”

“It looks like she’s crying,” Sirius muttered. He could feel himself beginning to snap and unravel against his better judgement.

And the closer she got, the truer the assessment was. Her face was blotched and twisted in a kind of fury, one that made her breaths come out in sputters.

“You…” her voice was weak and betrayed.

And both boys had an idea on what was happening, though neither wanted to admit it. James craned his neck to see the ashamed looks on Remus and Peter’s faces.

“Now, (Y/N),” he stated, his anxious excitement plummeting to fear. “I don’t know what you heard…”

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. What little hope he was experiencing distinguished in an instant.

(Y/N) finally reached them, raising her hand and giving an almighty smack across James’ cheek. She stumbled backward and looked ready to deliver another to Sirius.

James staggered, holding his face, absolutely stunned. But Sirius straightened out, knowing that he deserved it. But (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to do it again; she resorted to shoving Sirius away, hitting and pounding at his chest where she could.

“You… complete… arrogant… selfish… FUCKS!”

Cracks appeared in Sirius’ heart, his shoulders sinking to block her blows but not to stop her. She fumed, using her full force to push him away and retreat a few steps.

“A bloody COMPETITION? I suppose it was all some grand joke to you two.” She was sobbing now, fresh tears streaming down her already puffy cheeks. “Let’s see if we can get the stupid, naïve girl to fall in love with us – was that it?”

She paused for only a second, not wishing for a response just now, “I should have seen something what with the both of you wanting to suddenly be best friends with me out of the blue – and at the exact same time!” She ran her fingers harshly into her hair, “And it was all a LIE.”

Sirius started to shake his head, but James beat him to the first spoken word, “It’s not like that, (Y/N), not anymore.”

“Not ANYMORE?”

“Honest,” James tried to continue, “At first it was just to see who’d you like more. And now we – we both – feel very, very different.”

(Y/N) had her hands on her hips, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. “And that’s supposed to redeem the fact you did it in the first place?”

“No! Of course not, it’s just…” he looked towards the paralyzed Sirius, “You need to know that regardless of the intentions, we’ve both developed very real feelings for you.”

“Real enough to forget about Lily Evans?” she practically shrieked, “Did the rebound work for you?”

James stuttered, unable to form a worthy enough response. But (Y/N) didn’t need it, the look on his face was good enough. She instead rounded on Sirius, “And you.”

He set his jaw but blinked a few times. The burning, yearning in his chest was now aching – destroying him from the inside out.

“I suppose you think it’s funny trying to kill me to get my attention.”

The air left his lungs, “I… I never – I could never – find that funny.” But the hatred in her eyes was so real he thought nothing he said would take it away. It made him want to cower. “It was foolish and accidental how you fell. It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

But she didn’t want to hear it. How he wished he could wipe her face clear, to kiss the pain away.

James outstretched a hand, “Please, (Y/N) – let’s go sit and talk. Allow us to apologize.”

She immediately started to shake her head, “I don’t need an apology. I couldn’t trust it anyway. I just wanted to see the look on your faces when I told you my decision. That I’ve made my choice.” She contorted her face into an unflattering sneer, “That neither of you get to win.”

She retreater farther, edging towards the castle, “Don’t you dare speak to me. Don’t you dare look at me. From this day on, you don’t exist in my mind. And you’re going to keep it that way.”

James took a hesitant step towards her but knew it was too late. She was stumbling away, uneasy on her exhausted feet. He felt his own eyes burning, not realizing that tears were flooding them. He let out a breath that stuttered and whimpered.

Sirius thought he could describe without a doubt the feeling of your heart being torn from your chest. He was beyond tears, beyond regret. There was no way he could recover from the despair that now encumbered him. He turned to the pained looks of Remus and Peter.

He saw their lips moving but could hear no noise. He found he couldn’t catch his breath.

This quite possibly could be the biggest mistake that either of them will make in their entire lives.

~~~

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[fndmxreader]

fandom: harry potter. pairing:  remus lupin x reader | the reader simps for lupin because isn’t that all what we do daily ?  summary:   connected to the self indulgent series where the reader is a slytherin muggle born witch working alongside the teachers at hogwarts.   note: this series will bounce around a lot involving timelines, but a lot of them don’t really have a coherent story line anyway.  movie setting:  prisoner of askaban.  pov:   she/her pronouns.

you were looking off into the distance in a daze, end of pen in mouth as your writings came to a halt and instead getting caught up in thoughts.  your summer hadn’t been great,  if you were being completely honest :  your muggle friends were getting on your case regarding being missing for a year,  you knew at some point you had to pick : the wizarding world or the muggle one,   living two lives was absolutely exhausting,  living them meant being two types of people - like one example,  you had accidentally used a levitating spell to put a cup back and last minute your friend walked in, smashing on the floor as your hand flinched down to your side.

“ what was that crash ? “  “ i put the mug too close to the counter, “ you had laughed nervously, quickly walking towards the glass to pick it up “ it fell off as a result ”  “you’re clumsiness is going to be the death of you “    

that was only one of the close calls,  there were far too many to keep track of,  including dropping hints to the wizarding world in conversation, only to stutter and try and say you were referencing a bizarre indie movie from overseas. at this point you were trying to pick would it be even possible to choose a side ?  it seemed impossible just to pick one over the other,  especially knowing that no matter what route you take it would result in an empty, hollow feeling left inside of chest.    you’re not sure who you could go to for guidance,  you weren’t familiar with any muggle borns your own age,  and talking to a pureblood or half blood would go in vein,  the latter would understand to some degree,  but ultimately it’s not the same and with it being so complicated,  listening to people who barely got it would be a waste of time and only twist the knife in gut. 

 “ everyone,  i would like to introduce you to remus jo - “     that was all you really heard dumbledore say before ears blocked out the world like static,  everything beyond the screaming in your head made everything else seem like a distant hum with no tune,  a crackle of a tv that can’t quite catch signal.  your pen tapped against your bottom lip,  perching against it as you eyebrows knitted together in deep thought.   

maybe professor dumbledore could help,  he wouldn��t get it but maybe he could shred some light on the situation ? he was always good at that. 

“ miss l/n - “

perhaps it’s all just being blown out of proportion,  work leave would surely be something the muggles would understand that.  even if they are after photos, work gossip and other details - 

“ y/n “  between the firmness and the sudden block of your view as the men stepped into eyesight causes you to flinch,  reeling away from nothing in panic as you try and grasped your surroundings once more,   blinking up in a rapid succession that causes concern to flash on the two men’s faces.  it takes a moment to register where you were,  the surroundings,  what the hell was going on in general... 

“ huh ? “  your tongue pokes out to roll against your bottom lip,  eyes wide as you stared up at dumbledore,  only for sight to break away from the one your most familiar with to the new guy...    you won’t lie to yourself,  you weren’t ready for seeing someone like him,  especially in your state.  his eyes were beaming with life,  amusement dancing behind dark hues as a faint smile tugged at lips,  hands pushed far into pockets as eye contact seemed to lock,  your lips part to say something,  anything but much like before your brain seemed to short circuit,  this time for an entirely and much more embarrassing reason,  “ huh ? “ you repeated again,  cheeks coming to life with colour as you kept looking at the new guy.

“ this is professor lupin, y/n.   the new defence against the dark arts teacher - “  speaking slower now,  and you’re rather grateful for the approach because you really needed things to stop going by so quickly,  the whole world seemed to flash in front of you at lightening speed.

“ oh “ a pause,  then it really began to register “ OH ! “  it was the most beautiful example of a pin drop ever to grace hogwarts’ walls  (  yes,  dumbledore will be thinking about it years to come  )   -  you jump up rather clumsily and hold your hand out to the man  “ hi,  sorry  -  i was just ... never mind,  hi  ! “ you repeated again,  the embarrassment settling deep within bones,  making itself at home in the creases of mind that would take weeks to weave out.  but regardless of the mocking in head, you do your best to not feed it and give it anymore attention... at least for the time being.   lupins much bigger hand wraps around yours,  a firm but gentle grasp as he finally takes the moment to speak himself. 

“ that’s quite alright,  i can tell that we disturbed you.  in fact i believe we should be the ones apologising, however professor dumbledore here insisted on the introduction - “ it came easily,  between tone of his voice and the warmth of his hand, you’ve never felt safer, it was like being in a warm hug beside the fire on the night of winter;   you mentally slap yourself for acting like a teenager towards a complete stranger.   your eyes however, narrow towards dumbledore,  in a way blaming you own pathetic display on him.  a faint smile on his lips as he made up some excuse to leave the pair of you alone,  not at all hiding the way his eyes twinkled with amusement at the scene that played out. 

your hand flexed around remus’,  far too busy sending daggers at dumbledore walking away than the fact you were still holding the older man hostage,  not helping the murmured   “ ugh,  he can be such an arse sometimes - “ 

“ i believe that’s apart of the charm “ remus chimed,  your eyes moving back to his as you smiled up at him once more,  less tense than what your face was previously  “ um,   miss l/n ?  your hand - “ 

“ oh, fuck, sorry - “   instantly your arms folded across your chest,  the blush only darkening your cheeks “ i promise i’m not this socially inept,  well,  at least to this extent - “ 

“ oh,  don’t fret.  i’ve met much worse people,  i myself tend to panic in social situations.  they’re not my forte “   you shoulders relax,  though you can’t help but note that he seemed surprisingly at ease even with the confession. your eyes dance around the staff room,  much to your own relief they seemed to be back to focusing on their own work. 

“ well,  you’re doing much better than me if that’s any help.  so,  you’re teaching dark arts -  ? “ then the conversation seemed to spark to life without much spluttering after that,  eventually both sitting on the couch and bonding over lessons;  including how you got your position in the first place,   your arm rested on the back of the furniture as your body turned fully to him,  the longer the pair of you were sat there,  the more they progressed beyond work and more into personal ones, about experiences outside of hogwarts and within the walls, not helping the fits of giggles that bubbled in your chest. 

“ being a slytherin comes with the natural title of ‘dark pranks,’  most of us tend to live up to the name.  people demonise us,  so we give them a reason to continue it.  that certainly doesn’t end at our humour, i think it shows more than ever in that aspect - “ you giggled again, head shaking  “ i remember my friends putting a real snake in one of the gryffindors bed covered in animals blood, the girl panicked for weeks  -  but they started it  ! “   

“ i must say being a gryffindor myself,  i feel like i should be offended on behalf of them.  then again,  my friends here were trouble makers as well.  their pranks could... “  wrist rolled in the air,  and while there’s a hint of pain twisting in features and a haunted look that seemed to cover bright eyes,  there was still a fondness in how he spoke  “ extremely, well and truly out of hand ? “

“ ahah  ! “  it’s like a triumph,  finger pointing at the others face   “ you can hide behind the fancy wording all you want, professor.  but you gryffindors can be just as over the top as the rest of us,  if not more so ! “  he knocks your hand away from his face playfully,  grin widening as mock offence does its best to take over features.

“ firstly,  you may call me remus,  second of all,  i will agree with nothing you say,  i would never stoop so low. “ 

your heart skipped a beat at the notion. 

“ you may call me y/n, only when you admit i’m right - “ 

a nice joke to push down the giddiness of calling him by his first name the short hours of knowing him. 

“ how very slytherin of you - “ 

“ how very gryffindor of you to point that out, remus “ 

the back and forth banter eventually came to a halt, as minutes ticked by it was time to go to the great hall for food and to sort out the new years. you and remus walked in a comfortable silence,  a lightness surrounding you both as it showed in your steps, and showed in the way his lips remained locked in a subtle smile.  you were left with one feeling...  finally, dumbledore hired someone worthwhile. you would also give him a hard time for that awkward bow that he did at dinner. 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Same Smile

Huge thanks to my wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian and my amazing friend @minky-for-short for the inspiration and listening to me reigniting my widomauk obsession.

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

------

Caleb Widogast did not know his husband, Mollymauk Tealeaf, had an identical brother.

He didn't know his husband had two identical brothers.

He didn't know one of those identical brothers is on shore leave and was sitting on his couch. Not until he kissed him, anyway.

Basically a Modern AU where all of the tenants of the Tealeaf body are identical triplets!

------

Caleb dropped his satchel on the floor with a dull, heavy thunk. He tried to find it in him to care when one of the overtaxed buckles popped open and a pen, some student’s papers and a handful of crystals spilled across the hall rug. That could be a problem for tomorrow morning.

But for tonight he’d had a very, very long day. He’d had two seminars where none of his students had done the reading, a lab demonstration that had gone horribly wrong and made him smell like ammonia all day, he’d had to eat lunch on the train to make it to the bookshop on time only to find the day’s delivery was wrong and he’d ended up with hundreds of copies of a medical textbook that was very informative but probably weren’t going to sell very well. All in all it had been a pretty shit day and a burst buckle was not going to muscle its way in on top of all that.

Caleb had a very narrow, very selective list of what was going to be allowed in the rest of his day. And top of that list was finding his husband, slumping down next to him and pressing his face to the curve of his neck where the scent of his perfume was the strongest. Next on that list was letting his son sit on his lap and do that adorable thing he’d been doing lately where he rubbed his head all over his papa while babbling contentedly, almost like he was just telling Caleb about his day. Next was his daughter curling around his shoulders and purring loudly right next to his ear.

And that was about it, honestly. Maybe a cup of tea.

Caleb hung up his coat and scarf, both of them still dusted with drizzle from outside, kicking his shoes into the corner. He half considered going and putting his pyjamas on but that wasn’t on the list, he just needed to have Molly run his fingers through his hair to work the knots out of it and tell him everything was okay, that he was home now.

Molly was curled up on the sofa, the slightly tatty one with it back to the door. He had his hair loose, just pushed back from his face with a thin leather headband. It looked nice, Caleb made a vague mental note to tell him so.

“Hey,” Caleb leaned over the edge of the sofa, already smiling just from the closeness, “You would not believe the day I’ve had…”

He didn’t give his husband a chance to answer, just kissing him softly, catching his lips halfway through forming a word. Caleb melted into it, putting his hand to his face, stoking his thumb across a cheek that was slightly rougher than he remembered it being that morning.

Caleb froze, eyes snapping open.

He yanked himself backwards, face completely expressionless as he stared at this person he’d just kissed. This person who absolutely, definitely was not his Mollymauk.

That person grinned crookedly, “I think you’re still having it, Red.”

Whenever Caleb was confronted by sudden panic, his brain chose to cope with it by shutting down entirely, by going into some kind of distant stand-by mode like a computer overwhelmed by a virus and choosing to simply crash in response.

Which was probably why he responded to this stranger that looked exactly but not exactly enough like his husband, sitting on his sofa and who he’d just passionately, mistakenly kissed, by opening his mouth and saying, “You’re not on the list.”

The stranger’s lopsided grin didn’t fade, the same sharp teeth that lived in Mollymauk’s mouth flashing but a few of these were cracked, one entirely made out of dentist’s acrylic, like this person had been punched in the face a few times. They were also wearing black leathers mostly, a sleeveless tunic that billowed out into a coat, a tight white shirt underneath and close fitting pants. And the tattoos weren’t right, he had them for certain but the designs and placement were wrong, these were heavily done in stark black and showed mostly waves and coordinates and compasses. They looked like homemade stick and poke jobs. The jewellery wasn’t as heavy either, seaglass threaded onto leather and thin gold chains.

Not Mollymauk. Definitely not Mollymauk.

“You must be Caleb,” they chuckled knowingly, “Nice to finally meet you.”

Caleb was saved from having to think of where to go from there by footfalls on the creaky floorboards in the hallway and Mollymauk appearing in the doorway. His actual Mollymauk, he glanced up and down him and confirmed it- the heavy gems hanging from his horns, the bright flowing coat and high boots, the scars that littered his neck and collarbone, the stretch marks that peeked between the waist of his leggings and his crop top.

What threw Caleb for a moment was the slightly harried, slightly exasperated expression on his face. He could count on both hands the amount of times he’d actually seen Mollymauk look stressed like that. Also the fact that he was holding a tray on which he’d actually gone to the effort of arranging two mugs that almost matched, sugar in a little bowl, a milk bottle, a handful of spoons.

Molly’s red eyes flickered between them for a moment before his face slumped into an expression of equal parts guilt and defeat. Like the face of someone who’d forgotten to water someone’s beloved houseplant and had been caught in the middle of replacing it.

“Oh,” he said in an attempt at cheeriness that was edged with too much tiredness to be convincing, “So you’ve met already…”

“A little more than that,” the Not Mollymauk laughed, leaning back casually and kicking their boots up onto the scuffed coffee table, “Your husband’s a good kisser, Moll.”

Caleb gave a strangled squeak of alarm, all that he could come up with in his own defence while his brain was still in static mode, feeling his face flush a hot, prickly red.

Molly just shook his head, an exhausted kind of realisation tightening his already tight smile, “Um...Caleb, this is Kingsley. Kingsley is, uh...he’s my brother.”

Caleb stared at him blankly, metally tearing through his files for any hint that his husband had mentioned a brother before and coming up empty, “Your...he’s not on my list, Mollymauk.”

Molly tilted his head slightly and gently skipped over that, shooting Caleb a brief, pleading look that promised an explanation later. He moved past Caleb to set the tray down on the coffee table, his tail giving an irritated flick to move his apparent brother’s feet out of the way first.

Kingsley moved, apparently completely unfazed by anything that had happened so far, “He’s cute, Moll, where did you find him? When you told me you’d shacked up with a professor of all things, I was expecting someone a little more-”

“We met at one of my shows,” Molly cut across him, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence, “We were friends for years and then we got together. And he isn’t just a professor, he’s got the bookshop too.”

“Gods, your band!” Kingsley laughed, folding his legs up underneath him instead, “I remember that, you and Yash and that busted old guitar you had...I mean, fuck man, if he still married you after hearing you play, you know it’s true love.”

Molly gave a noncommittal grunt, pushing one of the mugs at him perhaps a little harder than he needed to.

Caleb hesitantly moved to sit in a chair off to the side, still quite unsure what to do. He was so distracted he almost sat on Frumpkin, who huffed and slithered into his master’s lap, glaring through slitted eyes at this doppelganger of someone he already wasn’t fond of.

“But yeah, like I was saying,” Kingsley, cradled the tea between cupped hands as scarred as his brother’s, “The Revelry’s got me running this cargo to Nicodranas and I thought hey, if I’m going to be in the area, why not drop in on my favourite brother?”

“Why not,” Molly repeated, a little thinly, “Without calling or sending a letter or anything to let me know you’d be stopping by…”

Caleb winced a little at the undercurrent of annoyance underneath his love’s voice but Kingsley only laughed, like it was a joke.

“C’mon, you know that’s not how I work, Moll. I never know where I’m going to be heading or when. I’m just glad I got to see you! Especially seeing as apparently you got married since I last saw you? And popped out two kids, what the hell?”

“Una is adopted,” Molly mumbled, like that was the important point.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kingsley continued brightly, now smiling wide enough that Caleb caught the wink of a gold tooth, “I mean, you’re easily the most responsible out of all of us but still, married with kids, that's actually insane…”

Caleb’s eyebrows rose. He adored his husband but one thing he’d never be able to call him was responsible. Molly caught the movement from where he was sitting next to Kingsely and his cheekbones coloured.

Feeling a sudden stab of guilt, a sudden need to rush to Molly’s defence after he’d done it for him, Caleb blurted out, “Mollymauk is a great dad.”

Kingsley looked over to him, smiling crookedly, “I bet. He was always running around after me and Luce, making sure we didn’t get into trouble...well, as much trouble, I guess. Hey! Have you heard from Lucy lately, Moll? I haven’t spoken to him even longer than I hadn’t spoken to you.”

Molly tensed instantly at the question, jaw growing taut like a bowstring, his quietly simmering frustration igniting into full blown, barely concealed fury.

“I don’t speak to Lucien,” was all he said, voice tight and tense and, above all, final.

Even Kingsley seemed to pick up on that, backpedalling quickly, “Sure, sure...so where are these sprogs of yours, then? I’m so excited to meet them...”

“Yasha offered to take them for a few hours after I realised we had our unexpected guest,” Molly bit off the end of the sentence sharply, clearly struggling to maintain his control. He shook his head tightly, standing up and sighing, “Excuse me…”

Kingsley opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, finally falling silent as he watched his brother disappear in a swirl of his coat. Caleb didn’t hesitate, getting to his feet and moving after him, throwing Kingsley an apologetic glance.

“I’ll just, uh...see what he needs.”

Kingsley just nodded, flashing him a quick smile that didn’t quite shine as bright as his other ones, then just staring into his drink. Frumpkin jumped up next to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

In the kitchen, Caleb found Molly with his head in his hands, in the middle of a long, deep breath. Caleb tried to remember everything his husband did for him when he got overwhelmed, coming up behind him and gently wrapping his arms around his middle. Instantly he felt Molly lean into his touch, aching into it.

“I’m an asshole,” he heard him groan, muffled by his palms.

“You’re not,” Caleb murmured into his purple curls.

“I am,” Molly dropped his hands, “Gods, I haven’t seen my brother in years and he comes here and I didn’t even tell my husband or my kids about him, what does that make me look like to him? To you?”

Caleb shrugged, “It was a bit of a surprise...um, why didn’t you tell us? Just out of curiosity…”

Molly turned in his arms, pressing his face to the curve of his neck, having to bend as Caleb was just a little shorter than him. It was long enough that Caleb had accepted he wasn’t ready to talk about it, content just to hold him and let it pass, but then he felt him murmur.

“I hardly ever see him. He’s a pirate with the Revelry, he’s always off sailing somewhere and...and I try, I used to try but he never replies and I’d spend ninety percent of the time having no clue where he was before he’d just pop up suddenly and I’d have to bend my life around him for however long he’d stay and then have him just run off again…”

“And...Lucien?” Caleb asked hesitantly, “He’s your brother too?”

Molly moved back, eyes suddenly solid and serious, “Caleb, I need you to promise me, if you ever hear anything from Lucien, if you ever see him or he contacts you, you ignore him completely and you come straight to tell me. Don’t let him get anywhere near the kids, don’t listen to a word he says, just ignore him and find me. Understand?”

Caleb swallowed hard, more than a little taken aback, he’d never seen Molly like this, “I promise.”

At that, Molly relaxed a little, “He just...he’s not a good man, Caleb. He’s in deep with this cult shit, just...we’re having nothing to do with him anymore.”

Caleb nodded but a question was pressing irritatingly at the base of his tongue, wanting to push forward, as much as he worried it would upset Molly. His husband noticed, reading his face as easily as he ever had, a tired but fond smile chasing the last of the severity off his face.

“Go on then,” he prompted gently, “Ask me.”

Caleb almost groaned in relief as he nearly blurted, “How do you know they’re your brothers?”

Molly gave a rough laugh, “You mean aside from the obvious, that they look enough like me that you sucked Kingsely’s face thinking it was mine?”

Caleb’s face went up like flashpaper as he started to splutter, “It was an accident!”

Molly grinned, looking a little more like himself, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, “I get it, babe, don’t worry, I’ll take an IOU...but I get what you mean. You’re right, I don’t actually remember growing up with them, I don’t remember actually being their brother. And that’s kind of why it kind of hurts having him around, honestly.”

Caleb nodded sympathetically, “So they just sort of showed up after you woke up again?”

“Yeah,” Molly huffed out a laugh that didn’t have much humour in it, “Imagine you’re just walking down the street one day and some guy with your own face runs up to you and hugs you so hard it knocks you off your feet.”

“I can see how that would be...disconcerting?”

“Somewhat,” Molly sighed, moving to look at his reflection in the microwave door, trying to sort out the mess he’d made of his makeup, “Kingsley just...he’s a sweet enough guy even if he is a flit but...when he looks at me he sees this big brother he thought he’d lost, someone who apparently looked after him and ran around after him and held things together for him. Someone I absolutely am not. And he can’t seem to get it through his skull that I can’t be that person.”

Caleb gently but firmly stepped in front of Molly, taking his hands in his own. He didn’t seem to realise how badly they were shaking.

Molly gripped his fingers tightly, like he was holding on for dear life, like he hadn’t even realised how deep the water around him was until Caleb reached out.

“Honestly,” his voice was a shaky exhale, “I’m kind of glad he doesn’t stick around. He’d realise his brother’s gone for good.”

Caleb took a moment to consider his words, wanting desperately to say the right thing, willing his brain to kick into gear and let him help.

“Maybe if he met you now he’d realise he liked the brother he has?” he murmured gently, running his thumbs soothingly across Molly’s knuckles, “I am biased but I think you’re pretty fantastic.”

Molly smiled softly, leaning forward until he was resting his forehead on Caleb’s, “Thanks…”

“I don’t think you need to pretend to be anyone else,” Caleb promised, shifting slightly so he could press his lips to his forehead. It wasn’t quite the kiss he was imagining but he could tell it made Molly feel better and that was all that mattered.

Maybe so he couldn’t lose his nerve, Molly quickly returned the favour with a gentle kiss to the cheek and moved back into the living room. Caleb decided it was best to give them a moment, making a cup of tea of his own. He lingered over it, holding the warmth between his hands, watching the light outside of their small window turn from the full, deep orange of sunset to a cool blue.

Only then did he pad into the living room, not entirely sure what he was going to find. Of course he trusted Mollymauk but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little prepared to break up a fight. He mentally catalogued the components in his pockets, just in case.

But when he stuck his head around the corner, there were no flying feathers or drawn swords. The two Tealeafs were sat on the sofa together, Kingsley in the middle of another ramble, hands moving through the air as he gestured widley. Molly had an expression of bemusement and vague surprise.

“-and I was thinking I could show them how to tie knots, I swear man, you don’t even know how many godsdamned knots there are,” Kingsley was saying, eyes alight with excitement, “And maybe, if it was okay with you and Red obviously, I could take em out on the ship sometime! Just a little day trip and you guys could come too, there’s a place where you can always see dolphins and there’s seals and I even saw a whale once! Kids would be into that, right? Kids like animals, don’t they?”

For the first time, Kingsley looked something other than blithely amused. For the first time, a kind of hopeless uncertainty edged into his eyes.

Molly clearly caught it, something in him softening, “You...you really want to spend time with my kids?”

“Of course I do!” Kingsley blinked, “I mean, okay, I’ve not been the best brother on the planet but I’m an uncle now. Like, I’m someone’s actual uncle! That’s the most incredible thing and I just really want to do a good job at it. I want them to like me.”

For a moment, Molly looked startled, like he hadn’t expected him to say that. But once it had sunken in, his face cracked into a smile.

“I’ll be honest, Kingsley, I don’t think you’re going to have to work that hard to get them to like you. You’ll see.”

Kingsley looked like that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, his face lighting up like the dawn.

“And look,” Molly shrugged, “You’re not a shitty brother or anything just...just call more, damn it.”

“Okay, I promise,” Kingsley was back to laughing, looking like he was a second away from pouncing on Molly and hugging him, “I mean, I'm gonna be checking in with my little niece and nephew all the time, right?”

“Yeah,” Molly grinned back at him, “I guess you will.”

For all the broken teeth, they really did have the exact same smile.

Caleb leaned against the doorway, eyes warm as he watched them, as he watched Kingsely loudly announce that he’d even brought a present for his new family members before pulling an entire cutlass out of a holster neither of them had noticed under his coat, as he watched Molly choke down a laugh and start to explain why, as cool as they’d find it, a pirate sword really wasn’t an appropriate gift for two toddlers.

None of this had been on his list. But there was something to be said for surprises.

[indianamoonshine]

two to tango | javier x reader

*please note that i have no idea who created this gif. please let me know who did so i can give them credit.

summary: you’re pregnant and javier is the father. unfortunately, the two of you also haven’t spoken to one another in over a month. he’s starting to notice how easily startled you’ve become and how pissed you’ve been getting around the office. maybe it’s time to finally tell him.

contains: pregnancy. fluff. mentions of open relationships and an age-gap. (reader is well over eighteen.) your relationship is a bit wack but the two of you mean well.

author’s note: i’m barely getting by in quarantine, so here’s a really crappy one-shot. my first javier fic!

you felt him watching you.

the way you stumbled more frequently but was more apt to catch yourself less you actually did. the way your hands shook as you wrote down information called in through a hiss of static and how the noise pissed you off more than usual. it was the way you made sure not to walk too close to his desk, how your hands passed him folders marked with “confidential” as though he were infected with something.

javier was fuckin’ clueless though.

how he didn’t see earlier was beyond you. it’d been a month and a half since the last time you’d slept together. it’d been a month since the argument between the two of you ended things abruptly. javier and his informants and you and your jealously.

not to say you were wrong to be jealous. because you weren’t. you weren’t wrong to be angry when javier had to bail on you to collect some intel by whatever means necessary. and, granted, you had given him permission to do whatever it was to take out that escobar fuck. but certainly he had to have seen through that “cool girl” demeanor.

maybe it was because you were younger than him. javier didn’t play games - it wasn’t his niche. and usually it wasn’t yours; that is, of course, until the game reared its ugly face. you called him out on his bullshit only to cast the line; to get a rise out of him just to see how much he really cared. and when he didn’t take the bait (or didn’t understand what the fuck you were trying to get at) you grew restless at his lack of passion. this is the game that fucks up many relationships and it certainly fucked up yours.

but not until javier fucked you. a lot. every night really because the two of you lived down the hall from one another. then when your jealously and his nonchalance finally came to a head, the game stood on its platform and bit into its shiny gold medal. one comment led to another and soon enough you found yourself slamming the door in his face, unable to breath, and giving him the cold shoulder for thirty whole days.

but that thirty whole days was up a week ago.

it’s almost quitting time. well, for you anyway. you had a set schedule. you didn’t go out on the field or get your fingers dirty like steve or javier did. no. you sat in a square protected by bulletproof glass, phone to your chin, and breaking pencils by the dozens while you doodled mindlessly. the clock on the far wall ticks lazily, your kneecaps bobbing anxiously with the beat. you want so desperately to go home, to get out of this sauna of an embassy and drink...shit. well, to drink water, you suppose.

you let out a slight groan.

there’s a knock on your cubicle which rattles the glass a little. it’s always startled you, but considering the circumstances the sound the glass makes is enough to make you jump in your seat just slightly.

you place a hand on your chest, eyes tearing away from the clock, and find javier with his hands on his hips. he watches you with frown on his face, though the mustache hides most of it.

ah, fuck. it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. you were supposed to approach him. he wasn’t supposed to feel obligated to ask why you were more fidgety or anxious than usual; why you were now staring him down with a grimace on your face, eyes dropped with fatigue, and heart skipping a little.

well, shit. maybe javier peña was more observant of your behavior than you thought.

he says your name softly and raps his finger on the window again so you’d open it. you find yourself doing just that but not without sighing in defeat. the whiff of his cologne immediately intrudes your space, making your head dizzy with...all sorts of feelings, really. javier didn’t wear that much cologne. must be another lovely effect of pregnancy, you suppose.

he leans forward to say, “we need to talk.”

he’s being tactical - clever - in the way he speaks in such a hushed tone, eyes scanning the room to watch people leave their desks. it’s five now. lights are being flickered off, goodbyes being said. javier raises a hand at a few cadets who wish him a good night.

and then finally the room is empty. steve’s not even here - he’s on the field today - boots on the ground and whatnot. but javier was here.

and he was staring right at you.

his voice rumbles loudly from his mouth. “what’s going on with you?”

god dammit. you clench around nothing, palms sweating, and wishing he’d just fucking leave. especially with the way he smells. especially with the way his voice is heady with testosterone and authority.

“nothing,” you lie. it’s a bad show of dishonesty. you’ve never been that great at fibbing anyway, but this has to be one of the least convincing displays you’ve ever attempted.

javier isn’t persuaded by the way you choke on your own words. and with all the sweat gathering against your chest, who would be?

“i’m worried about you,” he murmurs. “you’ve been acting...strange.”

he seems genuinely concerned which both pisses you off and excites you at the same time. on one hand, he’d been watching you. making sure you were okay. healthy. safe. on the other hand, he had the audacity to fret himself over your demeanor when he’d been ignoring you.

in his defense, you’d been the one to kick him out.

you swallow a lump in your throat. acid, mostly, and then pride. “okay,” you finally squeak. “let’s talk.”

javier watches you cautiously, taking stock of your color and expressive eyes which probably looked a bit dilated at the moment. finally he says, “fine. over drinks?”

drinks. shit.

--

“your place or mine?” he’d asked after.

you told him ‘mine’ in a pathetic manner as he drove you. this area of medellín didn’t have a lot to offer as far as views go, but there was enough to keep your mind occupied as you passed. food carts that wafted delicious smells. children playing games. lovers quarreling. and then finally you arrive at the apartment complex where everything felt a little more beige and lonely - where culture was almost sucked from the grasp of the american embassy.

but javier was here now, and as much as you wanted to hit yourself for thinking so, the night felt a bit brighter when he opened the door for you. you thank him as the two of you enter the building and then wait in silence as you fumble with your keys.

javier takes a deep breath and makes himself at home. he’s been here hundreds of times. he even has his own sock drawer; one you hadn’t cleaned out yet (you told yourself you were too busy but you know...). he shucks off his boots and places them in the corner because he knows that’s where you like them, and when he sheds his jacket he lays it on the back of the couch just like you do.

you beeline for the fridge, desperate to busy your hands. there’s not much in here drink-wise save for some water bottles and some of his leftover beer. there is a bottle of red wine, chilled and tempting, but you ignore it with a frown and fetch javier’s choice of poison.

he sits on the couch, elbows at his knees, and staring blankly at the floor beneath him. when you enter the room he blinks up at you and accepts your offering with a small “thank you”.

“water, huh?” he notices as you uncap the bottle, brow furrowing a little. he knew how much you loved wine after a long day, and he definitely knew there was some in that fridge.

you nod a little too quickly for your liking. “yeah,” you say, taking a swig. “is that alright with you?”

javier grins at your snark. maybe it was bubbling up old feelings in him. you try to pretend like that doesn’t make you...well, feel something other than frustration. you wanted to be mad at him. you did.

there’s a silence between the two of you. it’s heavy. stifling. not awkward, but tense. tense enough that javier starts first with a great sigh.

“i miss you,” he says abruptly. he’s fingering with the lip of his bottle - can barely look you in the eyes when he says it...as though he’s ashamed of it or something.

“i know i shouldn’t because...” he sets the beer on your coffee table and folds his hands together. “because i was the one that fucked it up.”

you want to correct him but he’s not entirely wrong. while you played a hand in this as well, it takes two to tango and it certainly did take two to tango in this situation.

“i...” you start, but fall short. you weren’t keen on admitting you were wrong. you hated admitting you were wrong. always have. “i’m to blame too. i lied to you.”

javier perks a brow, lips pursing for a moment before asking, “lied?”

you shrug and nod at once, a little skeptical of your show of honesty. you hope it didn’t look too forced or shallow. pathetic. typical of you to overthink things...to make it about you.

“i wasn’t okay with you sleeping with other women,” you admit. and it feels so fucking good to say it aloud to the one person who matters.

javier sets his jaw and nods at his feet. “i shouldn’t have done it.”

that part was true.

“still, i should’ve told you straight out. i just felt like you didn’t...” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose, a wave of nausea washing over you rather suddenly. “i just felt like you didn’t care enough about me to stop. and i was being a child for pushing you to admit it. or trying to push you to admit it. i don’t know...”

you shake your head, stunned by your own stupidity. when saying it out loud to an actual person and not your shampoo bottles it doesn’t make any sense. how manipulative can someone be?

“i should’ve just been honest with you and i’m sorry i wasn’t...” is all you can say. that was the simplicity of it.

javier shifts beside you on the couch. you don’t look up at him - you’re way too ashamed. he sets a hand on your thigh and you can’t help but shudder vibrantly at his touch.

“i knew you weren’t okay with the...” he considers his next words carefully. “informants. and, to be honest, i wanted you to break first.”

you glance up at him through your lashes. “why?”

he chuckles softly all of a sudden. “you know i’m not an open book. but you...” he pauses and takes your hand that’s limp in your lap. “you’re more stubborn than i am.”

he presses a delicate kiss to it, mustache tickling the tender flesh. “please come back to me.”

he...wants you back.

tears swell in your eyes before you can even acknowledge their existence. they’d come on so suddenly - without warning.

damn these hormones.

you use your free hand to wipe a lone tear away, noting how a wrinkle of concern puckers his brow when you do.

“i have to tell you something first.”

he scoots closer, eyes narrowed, but mouth soft in dismay. he massages the space between your forefinger and thumb which, strangely enough, alleviates some of the leftover nausea in your gut.

might as well spit it out.

“i’m pregnant, javi.”

you’ve imagined this scenario hundreds - and i mean hundreds- of times since seeing those pink lines on that piece of plastic. you imagine he’d shut down, sort of like a fax machine when it overheats, and walk out the door. maybe he’d throw his hands above his head, pace around the room, and spout off ways of how it couldn’t be possible despite the fact that you rarely used protection.

how it happened, you couldn’t be sure. the technicalities of it, at least. you’d been on birth control but maybe you’d missed a dose. maybe you were just really fuckin’ fertile and javier was really fuckin’ fecund. but either way it happened and there was nothing to do but say it did - indeed - happen.

and just as you think he’s had a stroke...that you should either call for an ambulance or at the very least steve, javier cracks...a grin.

not a joke. he doesn’t crack a joke. he cracks a smile. it starts off subtle until it doesn’t; until his teeth and all are showing. he laughs, but in good humor too. not snickering - but laughing.

you can’t help but jolt back from his touch with dubious reserve. “are you...laughing?”

javier’s smile falls into a pleasant smirk and then he’s holding your face between two calloused palms. palms that are familiar and warm, that have touched every inch and frailty of your body. the ones that helped make life within you.

and before he even says it, you know it’s okay. that it’s all gonna be okay.

“is that why you’ve been so goddamned jumpy lately?” he beams, thumb rubbing a small and gentle circle against your cheek.

you stare at him incredulously before you begin to giggle well. it was only a matter of time, especially by the look of sheer delight in his eyes. you were stunned by his bliss of it all.

you nod in his embrace. “yeah,” you admit meekly. but you’re smiling now too.

javier presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent with a great inhale. “i knew there was something going on.” he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and takes in another deep breath. “you smell different.”

you roll your eyes in jest. “bullshit.”

“i’m serious,” he says, perfect nose gliding along your skin. “i’m positive that’s a thing.”

your hands grip his cheeks, stubble itching your skin when you do. he looks luminous- maybe even more than you.

“so...” you caress the top of his eyebrow, thumb brushing over it ever so slightly. he always loved it when you did that. “are we okay with this?”

javier leans into you, eyes trained on your lips. “of course we’re okay with it,” he confirms softly. “we’re more than okay with it.”

[sluttyten]

This Dance

summary: you’re a trainee close to debut under SM, Ten is a very helpful sunbae who helps teach you how to dance better, becomes your best friend, and becomes a lot more.

words: 12,373

tags: idol!verse, friends to lovers, secret relationship (kinda), face riding, oral sex, loss of virginity, etc.

Ten was there to witness your great breakdown. Stress and many sleepless nights, a lacking diet, and your personal failure to do seemingly anything right brought on a bought of hyperventilation and tears and an aching chest, so you stole quickly from the practice room before the other trainees or your trainer could see.

The hallway wasn’t nearly enough of a private place to deal with the panic coursing through you, so you ducked away, wiping at your tears, barely able to see or breathe, so you definitely had no idea where you were going.

And then you bumped right into Ten as he was coming out of one of the other practice rooms.

“Oh, hey.” He caught you before you could fall. 

A few other boys gathered in the doorway behind them, and feeling all of them gazing at you, all of them judging you and your tears only made everything worse for you. So you just dropped down into a crouch, trying to fit your head between your knees so you could maybe finally breathe.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ten knelt down in front of you, clearly somewhat uncomfortable as well with your display of emotions. He hesitated to touch you, but when you gave a great wheeze, he took hold of both of your wrists, and you looked up at him. “Breathe with me.”

Ten took a deep breath, held it, and then let it flow out slowly. You tried your best to match it, but it was difficult, and it took a few repetitions before you could manage your shaky breaths in time with his. His thumbs stroked the soft skin of your wrists, his eyes locked with yours as he helped you regulate your breathing. 

At some point you noticed that it was just the two of you. The other members of WayV had left. Just Ten holding your wrists, helping you breathe, and when that was under control, you fell back onto your bum.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asks again, his voice so gentle. Tears still drip from your eyes, trailing down your cheeks, from the tip of your nose and chin. Ten carefully reaches over, cautiously swipes the pad of his thumb under your eyes, and then he pinches his sleeve between his fingers to dab at your tears. “Is it the training?”

You nod, choking down a breath, blinking away the tears as best you can. “It’s just a lot. But I don’t need to tell you that, you’ve been through it too.”

“Every experience is different for everyone.” Ten’s sleeves are warm against your cheeks, dry and comforting. You want to lean into him, but at the same time you are brutally aware of the impropriety of this interaction. He’s your senior in the company, a debuted famous idol, and you’re just a trainee who is failing.

“i’m just so bad at everything.” You sigh, sniffling a bit. “Jihye keeps telling me that my timing is off with the song. I know I’m messing up the choreo. And she keep telling me to lose weight, but I’m already--”

Ten shakes his head. “You don’t need to lose weight. You look perfect just the way you are. Well, you’re a little too damp right now, but once your cheeks dry a bit more, you’re perfectly perfect.”

Your face feels like it catches fire at the compliments. They’re certainly nothing that you ever expected to hear from Ten. 

“And as for the choreo, I could help you out with that a little, if you’d like. I’m actually, miraculously not too busy right now.” Ten slips his phone out of his pocket and glances down at it, then looks back at you. 

“Are you serious? Why would you help me? I’m just a trainee, and not even a very good one. Why help me?” 

“I’ve been there.” Ten nods. “Stressed and feeling inadequate. It’s shitty. And I’ve seen you and the others training. You’re good, I promise, but you do need just a little bit of work, and I’d like to help because I think I can and stuff.”

His and stuff seems like a bit of a weak answer, but as your tears dry sticky on your face, you don’t mind the weakness of his answer because you want it. You want Ten to help you train, to help you improve to the standard you need to be at to debut.

“I want to say yes.” You tell him, “But I think right now I should get back in there before they notice and I get in trouble. Hanna and Heeyoung unnie definitely saw me leaving.”

“Of course, but if you still want, just let me know.” Ten rises to his feet.

You sit down there for a second longer, looking up at him. 

“I’ll be around, so don’t give up on all this. Next time you’re feeling a bit--” He makes a face and kinda wiggles his fingers in a way like static coming from his head. “--frazzled, come find me. I’ll help you out.”

So you return to the practice room with a bit more confidence, and also the hope that soon you’ll be able to take Ten up on that offer.

That opportunity comes a week later. 

You’re surviving the day on exactly one hour and fourteen minutes of sleep, several bottles of water, a handful of vitamins, and pure will to remain as a trainee in this company. While several of the other girls, especially the younger ones, have headed home for the night, you decided to hang back with Miyeon, your closest friend among the trainees.

But she’s currently dozing off in the corner while you drip sweat in the middle of the room, staring down your reflection to analyze your every move as the song plays on repeat from the speakers. 

“Can we go home yet?” Miyeon groans. “I’m tired, it’s getting late. We’ll be back here tomorrow. Let’s just go rest.”

But you can’t rest, no matter how much your body begs you for a break. You have to perfect this. 

“You go.” You tell her, taking a few seconds to catch your breath, gulp down some water to quiet the hungry rumbles of your belly. “

“I’m not going to leave you here to work yourself to the bone, dummy. And also, knowing you, you’re going to actually work at this until you pass out or hurt yourself in some way. I’m here to supervise.” 

You wipe at the sweat under your chin. “You’re falling asleep over there, so you’re not doing a very good job of supervision, Miyeon.”

She frowns at you, but stands up, grabs her bag from beside her, and slips into her jacket. “Fine, I’m leaving, but if I wake up in the morning and you’re not in that bed across from mine, I’m going to beat your ass, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll just be here for a little bit longer, then I’ll be safe and asleep in the dorm. Swear.”

Miyeon holds you to that promise when she stretches out her pinky to you and waits for you to wrap your pinky finger around hers. You stamp your thumbs together to seal the promise.

She’s been gone for maybe a song and a half when you hear the door open behind you. You spin around, ready to tell her off, when you notice that it’s not Miyeon standing in the doorway watching, but Ten instead.

“Your shoulders are too tense. That’s why that move looks weird.” Ten tells you then he walks forward, leaving the doorway behind to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “Watch.”

And then he perfectly executes the choreography you’ve been struggling with for the past few days. 

“That’s not fair!” You groan, collapsing onto the floor with your legs folded in front of you. “How are you just going to come in here and do it that easily on the first try?”

“Loosen up. You’re thinking about it too much, you just need to feel the music, let it move you.” He takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out. You mimic the motion, but Ten shakes his head. “You’re still tense. Stand up again.” Ten offers his hand down to you, and you place your hand in his, let him help you to your feet. 

When Ten smiles, his eyes shimmer.

“Now, I want you to shake out the tension with me.” 

He holds out his arms and starts moving them, shaking them, whipping his head around, bouncing on his feet. He looks silly, but relaxed and happy. You feel silly when you start doing it too. Like Ten just looks so loose and everything, and now that you’re doing this, you feel how tense you are, the stiffness in your arms. But as you shake it out with Ten, a laugh bubbles its way up to your lips, and when it breaks free, Ten laughs too, looking up at you as you both shake out the tension, your body growing looser.

“Now dance!” Ten laughs, stopping the silly moves and sliding right into the choreography to match with the music that’s been playing all this time in the background.

You hear the music, feel it like a thread slipping through your ear, streaming down into your body, and you move. You watch yourself in the mirror and you watch Ten beside you, and for the first time you feel like you’re doing it right. You feel the difference in before and now, the ease with which you let the moves move you. 

As the song ends, Ten turns to you. “Perfect!” 

You laugh and wrap your arms around him, dragging him into a tight and happy hug. “Thank you. I know it’s silly, but that really did help.” 

Ten’s arm curls around your waist. “Happy to help.” His breath is warm on your cheek, his heartbeat pounds against yours, and all at once you’re reminded that he’s your senior, you’re a trainee, and you’ve been practicing like this for hours and you’re drenched in sweat.

You step back quickly.

A few more hours pass, Ten helping you with choreography, but mostly it’s just the two of you goofing around, dancing to whatever songs he plays. It’s getting late--or maybe getting early--so finally you call it quits. 

“I have to get back to the dorm. I swore to Miyeon I’d actually get some sleep tonight.” You press your back to the mirror, sink down to the floor. “Though, I am half-tempted to just stay right here and fall asleep.”

“Don’t do that. Come on.” Ten offers you his hand again, and you take it to let him pull you to your feet. “Don’t let Miyeon down. And if you’re just reluctant to leave my wonderful company, don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

Every night for the next week, when the other trainees leave, and it’s only you left in the practice room, Ten arrives. You spend hours together dancing and laughing. Ten gets you to take breaks to just relax for a few minutes watching funny videos or just talking, sometimes he convinces you to eat with him, sometimes he sings, sometimes he convinces you to perform for him too.

Before long you realize that Ten’s more than just mentoring you. He’s not just helping you through this training period, he’s become a friend. You look forward to seeing him, and in those rare moments when you’re in your bed at the dorm scrolling through your phone, you sometimes see things that you know Ten would like to see. So sometimes you send them to him. He always replies. Sometimes he sends you funny things as well. 

And then one morning, after a practice that ran nearly all night, Jihye hangs around later than normal to perfect her facial expressions while performing the choreography, and just as she’s walking toward the door to leave, Ten walks in looking freshly scrubbed, wide awake even though the world outside is only just waking.

“Oh?” He looks at her and then looks at you. “Hello.”

She greets him respectfully, throws a curious look back at you, and then cocks her head slightly to the side, but she says nothing. She just excuses herself and leaves you and Ten alone in the room. 

You turn away from the mirrors, grab your phone and your bag, and then you face him with a wide smile breaking across your face. “Ten! I wanted to tell you . . .” Before you can say anything else, you yawn.

“Tired?” Ten asks.

You shake your head, but the yawn that immediately follows the first betrays your lie. “Okay, I’m a little tired. I definitely can’t do any more practice with you this morning.”

Ten shakes his head. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But do you want to get breakfast instead? My treat?”

“Oh, well, if you’re paying, then of course I want some.” You bounce toward him. “I need some coffee and probably something delicious to eat. What do you think?”

Ten buries his hands in the pockets of his black jacket, shrugs his shoulders, and tells you, “I thought we’d just see where the morning takes us.”

You’re actually not sure where the morning takes you.

The city is still half asleep as you walk out of the building and start down the street. Ten sticks close to your side, warm in the chilly dawn light, and when you shiver he makes you stop so he can give you the hoodie he wears under his jacket. 

“What were you thinking not having a jacket in this weather?” He clucks at you, and you never took Ten for a mother hen sort, but he chastises you even as he hands you the hoodie still warm from his body, smelling like his body wash. You try your best to not make it obvious that you’re trying to inhale the scent of him from the fabric.

Ten leads you along streets, wandering with you until the sun begins to peer over the city, painting the sides of buildings golden, turning shadows blue, and when the sweet, delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee greets your noses, you duck inside a cafe.

It seems a magical little shop with a wall of french windows looking out onto a garden. Cute tables fill the shop, shelves line the walls, old bulbs hang from the ceiling and drape along the walls, and flowers decorate each table. You find a cushiony rounded booth in a corner of the place, and you sink into it while Ten orders something to drink for both of you. 

You’re not falling asleep, but you are zoning out by the time that Ten arrives at the table with two steaming drinks. He slides in beside you, his shoulder against yours. You lift the drink to your face, inhale deeply the aroma of coffee and cream, and you take a sip before sitting it back down on the table.

Ten laughs quietly, and when you look over at him, he reaches up to wipe his thumb right above your top lip. His thumb comes away with some foam, and you watch as he brings his thumb to his own mouth. You stare as he sucks his thumb clean, and even once he lowers his hand, you can’t look away from his mouth until he clears his throat and turns back to his drink on the table.

You sigh, turning to the side as you sink against the back of the booth, resting your chin on the soft cushioniness of it. “I think I’m really sleepy. The coffee’s not working.”

“Do you want me to help you to your dorm?” Ten asks. 

“Not yet.” You shake your head. “I wanted to tell you something earlier.”

Ten takes a sip from his mug. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sit up as you stifle another yawn. “We got the news while we were practicing earlier. We get to debut. All five of us.”

There’s a loud clang as he sits his mug down hard on the little saucer. “That’s amazing! Do you know anything else yet?”

You smile, unable to fight it. You’re so excited, and it’s all thanks to Ten, you feel like. Without his help, there’s no way that you would’ve been able to improve as much as you have over the last few weeks, and there’s no way that you would have been good enough that SM would want to debut you. 

“All we know is that we’re debuting, and we’re not going to be put into NCT.” You laugh, fighting back another yawn. You drop your head onto his shoulder. “It’s all thanks to you, Ten. Thank you.”

“What did I do?” His voice is soft.

You know you should probably sit up, stop using his shoulder as a pillow, but he’s comfy and you’re tired and you don’t want to. So you leave your head there as you tell him, “You encouraged me to not give up. All these nights of practicing with you, you’ve really helped me. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“I think you’re underestimating yourself. And what would Heeyoung noona think if you didn’t attribute anything to her? I know for a fact that she’s been trying to help you too.”

You push at his arm then, and sit up. “Just take my thanks, Ten. Thank you for being wonderful, for being kind and helpful. Thank you for the coffee. Thank you for wiping my tears that day and supporting me ever since then.”

He ducks his head, but still you see the way his cheeks flush pink. “Just drink your coffee, so I can get you home. And I hope you enjoy it because the next time we get coffee you’re going to be the one paying, in the best new girl group in the industry.”

Leading up to and after debut, you don’t get the chance to see Ten nearly as much. For one thing, you’re constantly busy, and he’s pretty busy as well. 

Heeyoung, Jihye, Miyeon, and Hanna are all pretty good company as well as your other staff members, but you miss Ten. Even though you message each other whenever you can, it’s not enough. It’s only occasional messages, usually with long lulls in between responses.

There’s a show that the five of you are invited to where the hosts play a song and you have to dance along to the song. Everyone had expected that Jihye and Miyeon were going to be the aces of the game, but you surprised everyone. Those many nights practicing with Ten had given you an extensive knowledge of dances for a lot of the more popular songs. 

When the five of you did a VLive the day after that episode aired, several fans were asking questions to just get to know you better. Some asked questions about how close you were with other artists in the company.

“You’re really close with WayV’s Ten, aren’t you?” Jihye asks, nudging you. 

You look at her for a few seconds, wondering why she’s decided to say that. If people misconstrue that, it won’t be good for you. The last thing you need as a rookie is to be in a scandalous rumored relationship with Ten. Why couldn’t she have mentioned that you and her are actually quite close with Yeri as well, and Taeyong was close to all of you, kind of like an older brother.

“Yeah,” You shrug at the camera. “Ten’s a good friend, a good dancer. When we were trainees he helped me practice my dancing. Taeyong oppa is really wonderful too. And Yeri, like we just had dinner with her the other night.”

Luckily, the other girls leap onto that bit, gushing to the fans about dinner with Yeri and all the fun it had been. You sit there and pray that everyone will skip over the part about Ten.

Of course they don’t. Shortly after the live is over, you’re online and you see many fans talking about Jihye’s comment, talking about you and Ten and your friendship that they really know nothing about. You even see screenshots and clips and gifs of you talking about him, fans suddenly shipping you together which - okay, weird, but even weirder the way it makes you feel kinda fluttery inside but also gross and watched and judged - and then you see that Ten did an Instalive where fans asked him about you which only fed their fire.

But you don’t get the chance to talk to him or see him until a few weeks later. It’s late and you’re at the practice room to perfect the choreo you and the girls are practicing for a performance you have coming up.

Hanna begs for a break so she can go pee, and as she runs from the room, you see a shape lingering outside the door, looking in.

Ten.

The other girls are gathered around your choreographer, not paying you any attention, so you slip unnoticed from the room.

“Ten!”

“Hey,” He smiles. “I heard you were practicing, so I just wanted to come watch for a minute.”

You sink back to lean against the wall. “And? What did you think?”

“You’re good.” Ten smiles an adorable yet cocky thing. “You must’ve had a good teacher.”

With a laugh, you push at his shoulder, and tease him, “Miyeon and Jihye have taught me so well. Just them, no one else.”

“Oh, really? Because I’ve heard it a little different. And I remember it a little different.” He steps closer to you as Hanna comes bolting back past to squeeze through the door of the practice room. “I remember late nights, just us dancing until you physically couldn’t dance anymore.”

“I miss those nights,” You admit quietly, looking him in the eye as you say, “I miss hanging out with you, both of us sweaty and exhausted and honestly pretty gross, but those were the best times.”

Ten smiles and makes a little face like he can’t believe you would admit to something so cheesy as missing him. And then he softly says, “Me too. You should probably get back in there.” He nods toward the door, and when you look, you see Hanna and Miyeon staring through the glass pane at you and Ten. “I’ll text you later.”

No sooner have you entered the practice room again than the girls all begin teasing you, and no amount of you insisting that “It’s not like that!” they don’t stop until you’re feeling positively flushed, your stomach fluttery and funny, and the thought clings to the back of your mind, is it like that?

The next time you get to see Ten you’re on the verge of another breakdown.

You’ve not had a proper sleep for a week, nor a proper meal in nearly as long. Your group has wholly been a success, and because of that, your schedule as you prepare for this comeback has been extremely taxing on you mentally and physically. Your emotions are a wreck, your body aches and feels heavy. You’re fatigued, but there’s no opportunity for rest. They’ve been working the five of you relentlessly, and finally young Hanna slips, falls, and knocks her head against the practice room’s floor.

While your manager takes her to the hospital just to get her checked out, you and the other three are told to just continue practicing. To perfect yourselves.

The staff member who stays to observe is one that you don’t like. She’s mean, she’s rude, she’s just an intolerable person, in your opinion.

All it takes is a few sharp comments from her on top of you worrying about Hanna, being sleep-deprived and hungry, and then also worrying about the reception of this comeback by the fans. You feel the panic begin to seep into your, dark and cloying, thick like ink running through your veins, constricting your chest, and darkening the edges of your vision.

You walk out and don’t look back.

When you call Ten, he answers on the third ring, sounding sleepy and it’s then that you remember that it’s actually late.

“Ten?” You say his name as soon as you hear him answer. 

The panic you’re feeling must come through in your voice, because immediately Ten sounds more alert. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, you were probably sleeping. I just--I’m kind of freaking out, there’s just... everything, and right now I just can’t--Hanna’s on her way to the hospital because she hit her head, and Soyeon unnie is a bitch, and I’m just freaking out about it all, Ten. I walked out of practice and now I’m sitting right outside the building and....” Your chest aches and it’s kinda hard to breathe and you realize that you’ve been crying and why is there not enough air in the world right now?

“Hey,” Ten’s voice is soft, the same way it was that first day, the last time he saw you like this. “Hey, I’m actually right around the corner. I’ll be there in a minute, just breathe for me, okay? Come on, I know you know how. In.” You hear him inhaling deeply. Holds it. And then releases it slowly. “Out.”

You try to do it, but for some reason your lungs won’t cooperate, only sucking in jagged breaths that don’t seem to fill your chest at all before you’re exhaling, and tears pour out of you and a disgusting snotty sob sounds, and all the while you hear Ten’s voice in your ear and everything is just so much, so overwhelming, so everywhere.

And then he’s in front of you, crouched down before you with gentle hands on your wrists. He pries your phone out of your hands, takes your hands away from your face, and the way he’s looking at you makes things worse because he looks at you so tenderly and pitying, and you’re sure you look a mess right now after hours of practice and now your tears and snot and all that.

He says your name, quietly at first, and then when you don’t respond he says it more sharply.

You meet his eyes. 

“Breathe with me. I’ve got you.” 

And slowly but surely it works. Your breathing is still a bit shaky, and you still feel about one second away from bursting into tears, but Ten holds your hand and keeps talking to you, and for the first time you really feel a surge of love for him. Friendly love and romantic love and just appreciation for this godsend of a human being in front of you.

You collapse against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and Ten takes it with a little laugh, his arms wrapping around you. 

“Thanks for coming.” Your murmur into the softness of his hoodie. “What were you doing around here anyway?”

Ten squeezes you a little bit, and says, “The rest of the group’s in China to film something, but I have another schedule so I’m here alone for a few days. There’s this place around the corner that I was craving since we get it delivered sometimes while we’re training. I was about to head in when you called.”

“Sorry to make you miss your food.” You sit back, wipe the backs of your hands over your cheeks, under your nose. “And I probably look like a mess, don’t I? I should head home. There’s no way I’m heading back in there; I already know Heeyoung unnie’s gonna bitch me out for walking out like that.”

“Let Heeyoung noona be mad at you. Come eat with me.” He stands, tugging on your hand still tangled with his. “Come on.”

So Ten holds your hand, wipes at your cheeks again, and together you walk the few streets over to the small restaurant he’d been craving. It’s a tiny place, and they look as if they’re about to close, which you tell him as he starts to open the door, but Ten shakes his head. “They love me here, just watch.”

He pushes the door open and immediately the older woman behind the counter cheers, grinning from ear to ear as she says Ten’s name. They are about to close for the night, it turns out, but that just means that they’ve got some unsold food that they need to get rid of, and they just pile it all into Ten’s arms and send the pair of you off with more than enough food.

“Well,” Ten sighs, shifting the weight in his arms. “Do you want to come back to the dorm and eat with me?”

You think of Heeyoung, of Miyeon and Jihye all leaving practice and returning to the dorm to find you’re not there. Maybe you’ll text them and tell you where you are. . . . But they’ll tease you about Ten, make this into more than it really is. You could just part ways with Ten right here, go back to your own dorm and wait for your members to return, though you’ll get an earful from your leader, and Miyeon’s inevitably going to worm the information out of you about how you’d disappeared with Ten to calm down.

You spend so long deliberating that Ten makes the decision for you. He passes one of the bags over to you, and then another, and when you’ve got bags of food in each hand, Ten starts walking in the direction of WayV’s dorm. You follow quickly behind.

The dorm is dark and quiet when Ten forces the door open. He slips off his shoes, drops his keys in a basket by the door, and trots on into the darkness. You hesitate, suddenly aware of how you’re alone with Ten and no one else knows where you are. Not that you think he’d, like, murder you or anything like that, it’s just an instinctive kind of paranoia you’d feel if it were any man leading you into a situation like this.

“Are you coming inside?” Ten calls, and a second later the lights flip on, illuminating the entry way and the rows and rows of shoes beside the door. You let your shoes join the ranks, and you slide across the floor in your socks, stepping into the open area of the living room and kitchenette. 

Off to the left is the living room area: a wide bay of windows looking out to the street with vertical blinds slightly hindering the view. There’s a rather comfy looking sofa, a beanbag chair, a large TV, and various video game consoles. 

Directly to your right is the kitchenette, just a fridge and a stove, a microwave, a toaster, and a blender. Ten’s shoving some of his load of leftover food into the fridge, and you sit yours carefully on the limited counterspace. It doesn’t stay there for long. Ten unpacks it and the pair of you move across the room to the sofa (which is just as comfy as it had looked), and he turns on Netflix. You eat and watch, and finally when the last of the food is gone it’s very late and you’re very full.

Ten takes the take out containers as one episode ends, and you wonder if this is the moment when you should tell him that you should leave, head back to your dorm. But a large part of you doesn’t want to leave. You’re really comfortable on this sofa, with Ten, watching this interesting show. 

“Are you feeling better now?” Ten asks, falling back down beside you, he lifts his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. 

“Mmm, but now I’m stuffed.” You sigh. “I don’t think I can even move.”

“So don’t,” Ten says, “Text your members and tell them where you are so they don’t worry. Stay. We can finish bingeing this.”

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for a few moments to collect your thoughts, and while you’re in there you rinse your face and stare at your reflection. Then you pull out your phone and text your members that you’re staying at a friend’s place tonight.

Come tomorrow, you know you might have a few regrets. You might regret all that food you’d just eaten when you wake up feeling bloated. You might regret walking out of practice earlier. You might regret not sleeping in your own bed for an attempt at a good night’s sleep. 

But as you rejoin Ten on the sofa, you somehow don’t think you’ll regret this. 

He produced a large, fluffy blanket from somewhere and as you scoot closer to him, he drapes it over you and you huddle together side by side. Not that the dorm is really cold or anything, it just feels so nice to be so close to each other, sharing body heat under the blanket.

At some point, the day’s stresses finally hit you. Your eyelids droop, your head nods, and you barely even feel when Ten guides your head to his shoulder. 

You dream of a stage, performing up there all alone, a single blazing spotlight focused on you and only you. You can hear the murmurs of the audience as you dance, every sound magnified in the odd quietness of the crowd; every squeak of your shoes on the stage, your breathing thunderous, even the sound of your hair flying loosely around your face has sound. It’s such an odd and mildly terrifying experience, to be so alone and so observed.

You wake with a start.

The TV shut off at some point, and the room is built out of slate gray and black shadows except for the muted blue glow coming from the clock on the microwave across the room. You’re on your side, the blanket still draped over you, and then you hear the quiet of Ten’s breath, feel the flutter of it against your skin, the warmth of his against your back, his legs tangled with yours.

You don’t know how exactly you got like this, to be spooning with Ten on the sofa. But you’re not mad or perturbed or anything other than comfortable and content. 

He shifts a little in his sleep, makes the quietest whispery murmur that could almost be a word, though in what language you’re not sure. You press back against him, sink into his warmth, and you fall back asleep.

It doesn’t seem much later when you wake again.

Your phone is vibrating loudly on the floor, chiming quietly as well. Blearily you reach for it, and through the haze of your half-lidded eyes, you read that it’s your manager calling. 

“Turn it off.” Ten mumbles, reaching over you to try to lower your phone. When he misses, he doesn’t pull the arm back, just curls it over your waist, dragging you more firmly back against him. You let the phone fall back to the floor because you know you’re not going to answer your manager.

For one thing, it’s quarter past five in the morning. You crave sleep and relaxation, and you know that as of yesterday, your schedule for today was empty until after noon. 

For a second thing, Ten’s scent and heat encompasses you, drawing you back into him, and as you sink against him, you feel him pressing back against you.

You roll over carefully to face him, not that it really helps the situation. You can still feel Ten--a hard rigid line in his pants--pressing against your hip. And when you lift a hand to touch Ten’s chest, he stirs, eyes only opening a crack, but it’s enough for him to see you so close and he covers your hand with his, laying your palm flat over his heartbeat.

You make the next first move, lifting your hand toward his jaw. Ten’s fingertips burn against the back of your hand, following you to caress his face with your fingers, admiring the shadows of his face. He watches you carefully, and when you lean closer, lifting your mouth to his, he doesn’t flinch but lets his eyelids flutter closed.

The first press is gentle, soft, not more than a peck.

Ten sighs as you pull back just an inch, and then you dip back in for more and he opens his mouth to let you in. The taste of his mouth is so sweet, but there’s a bitterness to it as well like the take out you’d eaten together hours ago, but you crave more of him, press closer.

Slowly, Ten pulls you over him, your legs slotting together, your chest laid against his. You absentmindedly grind down against him until he moans and drops his head back to swear, “Fuck, what are you doing to me?”

You push your fingers into his hair, and Ten looks up at you as if he’s beholding the entirety of the universe above him. You squirm, pushing your hips down against his thigh, grinding against his bulge again, and Ten’s hands grasp at your waist. You bite your lip, toy with his hair, and Ten swears again and the sound of it is so unrestrained and hungry that you feel a burst of heat in your belly, a gush of wetness where his leg presses between your legs.

This all feels very sudden, but also long overdue. 

You think of all the late nights alone together practicing and laughing and talking. Imagine what it would have been like if you’d just kissed him one of those nights. Not that you would have at first. For the first few weeks you made sure to not say or do anything that he would think was you coming onto him in anyway because for those first few weeks you definitely believed that Ten was probably gay. 

He’d done little to dissuade you from that notion until a night when you mentioned dating in the industry, and Ten said, “I’ve never had the guts to bring anyone I liked into this. Fans can be so hateful towards girlfriends, I’ve seen it with like Kai hyung. I wouldn’t want to bring a girl I liked under criticism like that.” To which you’d asked, “A girl you liked?” And Ten had nodded, not really noting your ever-so-slight tone of surprise then, and he said, “Yeah, right now there’s not really anyone,” he gave you a sideways look and a smile, “But maybe someday I’ll find a girl who I just won’t be able to get out of my head or my life.”

And now here you are, straddling his thigh on his sofa in his otherwise empty dorm. Are you a girl that he likes enough to not be able to get you out of his head?

His fingertips dip under your shirt, warm on your bare skin as they push just inside your waistband, holding there.

“I was dreaming about you,” Ten tells you. “It all felt so real. The heat of you on me, your perfume and shampoo. How soft you are.” His fingers sink a bit deeper under your clothes, and you want them even deeper, touching you where you need him. Your breath hitches when he does push the waistband of your pants down a little more, the cooler air of the dorm meeting your heated skin. You feel Ten’s heartbeat thundering against yours where your chests are pressed together.

When his fingers skim over the curve of your ass, your breath stutters out of you, and you drop your head to his shoulder with a whimper.

“Is this okay?” He asks, turning his lips to touch your hair. You nod, but Ten waits until you murmur a “yes” before he continues. 

You lift your hips to help as he pushes your pants and panties down your legs, and when your hips sink down again, you feel the fabric of his jeans against your bare wet pussy. And a moment later, his nimble fingers brush against your heat. You bite back another sound, tucking your face against his neck.

“Have you done this before?” Ten asks.

“I fumbled around with a boy when I was in high school.” Your lips touch his throat with each word. “But he was the only one. It’s been a while. You?”

Ten only gives you a “Yeah,” and doesn’t elaborate with any details.

You grind down against his thigh, attempt to push back to get his fingers to touch you more, but Ten’s hands return to your hips, holding you still. You sit up to look down at him, and his eyes fall down your body to where your shirt ends and your bareness begins. Heat flushes through you, embarrassment a bit, but Ten’s eyes show nothing but appreciation as he takes in the sight of your pussy against his thigh.

He clears his throat.

“Can I eat you out?” 

By this point, the morning light is starting to turn the room from darkness into pale blueness. So there is absolutely no mistaking the hungry way he looks at you. No mistaking the way he licks his lips, the way that his hands flex against your hips and his dick twitches within the confines of his pants against your thigh. 

“Please?” Ten asks, and his hold on you has you shifting up his body slightly. Your pussy throbs when you look at his lips again, at his whole pretty face, imagining that tucked between your thighs, his tongue working magic on you. 

Ten shifts and wiggles until he’s more comfortable, and to accommodate for that, you shift as well so you’re straddling his hips instead of just the one thigh, and now you sit fully against his bulge. You feel him pulse against your wet heat, divided only by a couple layers of cloth. He feels a decent size, and you wish you could just have him inside you, but Ten once again licks his lips and pleads a soft, “Please sit on my face.”

Hearing him beg for you like that is like nothing else you’ve ever experienced. You go immediately, letting him shift you up his body until your knees rest on the cushion on either side of his head. Ten looks up at you, his thumbs stroking your hips, gentle circles with his fingers, his breath warm and wet.

And at the first touch of his mouth on your needy pussy, you moan for him.

His eyes are half-lidded, his tongue pleasant and warm as he tastes you, and the first beams of morning sunlight break into the room. 

You squirm and wiggle and Ten laps at your juices, you grind down against his tongue. He moans, hands grasping at you, pulling you down harder against his face. You press your fingers into his hair, sighing his name as he sucks on your clit, and when he twists his head to the side to nip at your thighs, you swear quietly, but Ten quickly buries his face back against you again, licking and sucking and drinking your wetness.

Your thighs shake on either side of his head as you get closer, and you can feel him smiling against your, loving how he’s getting you to fall apart for him. 

You rub yourself against his tongue, grinding against his face, and Ten pushes a hand up the front of your shirt to get at your breasts, massaging his palm against your chest. 

Sunlight spills into the room, the full golden warming glow of it breaks over your body just as Ten pulls your orgasm from you. You twist your fingers in his hair, whining and moaning and shaking, squeezing his head with your thighs, and yet he just keeps licking at you sweetly.

Dismounting his face is easier said than done. Your legs quiver, and Ten laughs at your wobbly movement as you attempt to balance on one knee. He slides onto his side, his back against the sofa’s back and you just collapse back in front of him and push at his chest, hiding your face in embarrassment.

Ten’s fingers brush over your forehead, fixing a few strands of hair. His other hand pulls your leg up to his waist, fingers tapping a rhythm against your thigh. “Was that good for you?”

“What a stupid question.” You mumble, tucking your face against his chest. “Did I cum that hard and not feel good?” 

“I don’t know, should I do it for you again and see how it compares?” Ten asks, his voice light and amused as his fingers skim up your thigh toward your pussy again. You squirm and whine, and he stops, just massaging your thigh instead. You can still feel his erection against you, but he doesn’t seem in any rush to take care of it. 

Instead he kisses your cheek, nuzzles into your hair, holds you against him like that. He pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa to cover you, and you cling tighter to him and ignore the persistent rising of the sun outside, the passing of time. You don’t want to leave. You want to stay cuddled together on this sofa instead of leaving, returning to your dorm with your group members. 

You slip your arm around his waist, your leg still hoisted up to his hip where he’d brought it, and though Ten makes no effort to do anything about his erection, you still feel it hard against you, and the longer you do, you wonder why he’s not making a move. So you do.

Ten makes an inquisitive sound when you slip your hand inside his pants, but that sound quickly becomes a moan when you curl your hand around him. His tip is wet, his length warm and achingly hard, and when you ease his cock out of his pants, Ten shivers. Especially when you shift and guide him toward your entrance.

“This bit,” You whisper to him, “This bit I’ve not done.”

Ten pauses, holding back even as you try to get him inside you. “You’re still a virgin?” 

You meet his eyes and shrug. “In some ways. Not in others.”

“But in this way?”

“Right.” You nod. You’d only ever messed around with the one guy before. You’d done pretty much everything except have his dick inside you. And then you’d come to SM, became a trainee and you were too focused on perfecting yourself for debut. You’d not had time to waste on dumb boys who you were just going to have to dump before debut anyway. 

But Ten is so much more than just a dumb boy. He’s one of your best friends. A mentor, a friend, someone who you’ve got feelings for, someone who’s in this industry too.

Ten kisses you now, still holding back but his bare cock slides against your wetness. You’re so ready for this, you just want him inside you, but he rolls you onto your back and leans over you.

“Ten.” You whine and grip his shoulder. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth and then your jaw, your neck, down toward your collarbones. And then he sits up, and you watch as he tucks his cock back into his pants.

“What are you doing?” You pout, reaching for his waistband, but Ten gently pushes your hands away. “Don’t you want me?”

“I want to make sure you’re ready for this. And also, I don’t have any condoms. I was just getting carried away. We can’t right now.” Ten explains, slumping back onto the other end of the sofa, running his hands over his hair. He looks at you there like this, looking flushed and wet and ready, your legs spread open so he can see your pretty pussy. 

He swallows hard.

“I want you so much, trust me.” Ten tears his gaze away from between your legs. “But not now. Not like this.”

You sit up, tug your shirt down and yank the blanket back up to cover you. “What’s it going to take? How does it have to be?”

Ten shakes his head a little, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “When we’re more ready. When you weren’t just sobbing and having a panic attack a few hours ago. When I’ve got condoms and an empty dorm again. I want you, I really do, but I don’t think we should risk all of this. Unprotected sex is never a good idea. Plus, it’s going to be your first time, I don’t want you to rush into this.”

“I’m not rushing! I’ve had months to think on this, to think about how much I want you, Ten! You’re handsome and kind and smart and wonderful. You’re gentle and strong, and all of those nights you spent teaching me how to dance better, watching you like that made me want you. I love the way you move, and how you’ve taught me to move like that. So teach me how to fuck, teach me this dance.”

He smiles and reaches for you, and you crawl down the sofa toward him, let him draw you into his lap, and then in for another kiss, sufficiently distracting you for a handful of minutes.

But then he still pulls away from you, strokes your hair back from your face. “Don’t you have a schedule today?”

You pout and sit back on your heels, drop your hand to palm at him (he’s still hard, and you don’t understand how he can be so focused on not getting his own pleasure), and you tell him, “Yes, but not for a few hours. Let’s run out and get some condoms.”

“You’re so horny.” Ten laughs, giving you a nose-wrinkled smile. “Honestly, I’m fine--”

But you don’t care to hear what else he was going to say, you drop down, flatten yourself on the sofa between his stretched out legs, and bring his erection back out into the morning sunlight. 

He moans out loud when you take him into your mouth, lips wrapped gently around his tip, tongue warm against the underside of it. Ten’s hands fly to the back of your head, and he doesn’t pull you off or push you down, he just rests them there as a comforting presence when you start bobbing your head and sucking. 

You find you like the taste of him, the weight of him, on your tongue. You like the way his legs twitch when you push down until you choke around him. You like his moans when you get a hand down to massage his balls. Ten bucks up into your mouth, choking you on his length again, and you love it even more when he gasps your name and swears and babbles in all the different languages he knows and you wish you understood them all too.

“I’m close,” he warns you moments before he spurts over your tongue, his hold in your hair keeping you there as you swallow around him, trying not to choke on his load, just swallowing it down. 

You’ve not even finished and neither has he when he pulls you up. Semen is still dripping from your lips when Ten crushes your mouth to his, and he kisses you with his own cum still on your tongue. He kisses you until your lips feel raw and the cum has dried tacky on your chin and hands and his dick, but then Ten still tries to wipe up with the blanket.

When that fails, he suggests, “Want to wash off?”

He throws the blanket in their laundry machine, and then he fills their shower-tub combo with warm water that fills the room with heat and a light floral scent when he drops in some petals. It’s soft and pretty, much like him and the pretty blush that spreads across his cheeks when you tell him that.

Ten kisses you again for that.

Each of you take your own clothes off, and you spend the whole time checking Ten out, watching every inch of newly exposed skin like you’re ravenous for the sight of him. 

He self-consciously covers his dick, although you’ve already seen that part of him. You appreciate the rest of him, the sight of his bare chest, his thighs, the soft tone of his stomach. You feel his eyes on you too, but you don’t care to cover yourself; you want him to see you.

Ten sinks into the bathwater, and after a moment you follow him in.

“This is nice.” Ten’s words echo around the bathroom. You lean back comfortably against his chest, his heartbeat thumps against your back and you rest your cheek against his shoulder. In a softer voice, he admits to you, “I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to. Let your members find us like this. Let mine come looking for me here.” You like this casual intimacy, being naked with each other, bathing together. If he won’t have sex with you just yet, then at least there’s this. His hand finds yours in the water, and he twists his fingers with yours. “We can stay here until we’re fully pruned, Ten-ah.”

There were days when you wished that you had truly never left that bathtub with Ten; when you wished that you wouldn’t have so easily let him talk you out of having sex. The bliss of that morning had lasted only a few more hours before your phone’s insistent ringing had drawn you out of the tub to finally answer your manager’s call. 

You were in trouble.

And now, weeks and weeks later, you were still in trouble, still on lockdown basically. It sucked.

You weren’t allowed to go anywhere without one of the other members or your manager knowing. You weren’t allowed your phone hardly at all. You were only allowed to see Ten if you ran into each other on company premises. Your manager insisted on supervising those interactions, which drove both you and Ten wild. 

You wanted to kiss him. You missed his lips on yours. Just that one morning had made you an addict to his kiss, his touch. 

You couldn’t even text or call him, which made everything worse. 

So you missed him. Terribly. 

But it made sense to you why you were in trouble. You’d not answered any of your manager’s calls for hours that day. You’d run off the night before. Even once you had answered the call, you hadn’t come back to the dorm as commanded for a few more hours. And to top it all off, someone (likely a sasaeng of either yourself or Ten) had taken photos of you and Ten together that night, just walking together along the street.

Representatives from the company had assured the masses that you and Ten were not dating, and now you were being totally kept apart from each other.

Well, until the day of the big SMTown concert. 

You were buzzing around backstage, the adrenaline of performing pumping through your veins as well as the opportunity to see Ten. 

“Unnie, calm down just a bit.” Hanna suggested as you were sitting beside her getting your makeup done, but your leg was bouncing so intensely that you were shaking your whole body, making it difficult for your stylist. 

“Sorry. I’m trying. I’m just so pumped for the show.” You said.

Hanna rolled her eyes and caught Miyeon’s eyes in the mirror too. You watched your two groupmates share a look.

“What?”

Miyeon rolled her eyes too. “We all know that you’re excited to see Ten.” 

You’d confessed to Miyeon, as your best friend in the group, about what had happened that night and morning with Ten. The others didn’t know all of the details exactly, but they knew that you were with Ten and that you were actually really good friends and probably more.

“Their dressing room’s just down the hall. I’m sure you could accidentally walk in there,” Hanna suggested. “Or I could, and you could come looking for me. I’m still not too good at reading Korean as a foreigner, you know.” She made an innocent expression that was totally bullshit. She was fantastic at Korean, though she often played it up to the fans that she wasn’t just so she would seem cuter. “And maybe while we’re in there I’ll get a look at Jaemin.” 

“You’re drooling, Hanna.” Heeyoung came over to stand behind you. “But she’s right. They’re just down the hall, spread out through like three different dressing rooms, so you’d have to pick the right one at the right time to get them both in the same room at the same time. Better to just wait until we’re all on stage.” 

And you know she’s right.

But that doesn’t mean that you don’t peek your head out the door of your dressing room once you’re fully ready to go up on stage. 

You can spot several of the NCT members wandering around outside their dressing rooms, but you don’t spot Ten. Though you do see Jaemin and he stares down your direction when Hanna passes by you so she can go down to Red Velvet’s dressing room to hang out with Yeri.

And finally, you see Ten come out of one of those doorways. His arm is slung around Kun’s shoulders and he’s laughing, then he sees you and he just smiles and waves. You would go approach him, but at that moment, your manager appears and pulls you back into your own dressing room for you to film a little clip to be posted later.

When you and your members are taken to the stage for your turn to perform, you pour your heart and soul into it, but a good portion of your mind is still on Ten, wondering if he’s watching your performance, if he’s been as excited to see you today as you’ve been to see him. You wonder if after the show today you might be able to sneak away.

The performance goes without a hitch. The rest of the concert passes by splendidly, and then at last it’s time for the closing stage with the whole SMTown family on stage.  It’s crowded with all of the artists milling around the stage, smiling, waving, greeting each other and fans, singing and dancing around. 

You almost bump into Ten.

He catches your arm, and though you know there are hundreds of fans around, virtually even more watching, you stand there with Ten and you smile at him, feeling the heat of his hand trailing away from your arm. 

“Hey!” You call loud enough that he can hear you, though with the volume of the place, it’s nearly impossible to hear unless you’re speaking directly into each other’s ears. So when he tries to speak to you, you don’t make out very much of what he says at all.

You lean closer, trying to hear him, and when you do he shakes his head, and shouts louder, “Dance with me!” 

His hand circles your wrist, and he lifts your arms into the air, swaying along to the music. It barely counts as dancing, but you don’t care. 

You smile and wave with your free hand at the audience in front of you, but you hold onto Ten’s hand and sway to the music. Someone says something over one of the microphones, and you and Ten turn to where most everyone’s walking back to the main stage.

Letting go of his hand is the last thing you want to do, but you must. He stays by your side though, still waving at fans, though his smile is more often than not turned to you. You talk nonsense with him, unable to tell him in front of this whole audience that you want him to fuck you, so instead you compliment him on his performance.

You take the final bow beside each other, holding onto his hand with one, onto Miyeon’s with the other. 

The moment you’re offstage, out of sight of fans, you turn and look for him again. Your members move by you, the Shinee members run by, and then you see some of the NCT members coming by, and finally Ten.

You grab his arm and he wraps his around you, squeezing you in a tight hug, his cheek against yours. “I miss you.” You tell him, “I want you.”

Ten looks around, notices that the other artist slipping by aren’t paying either of you any attention. He presses his lips to yours in a relatively chaste kiss. It’s not enough and you both know it. You fist your hands in his shirt, bring his mouth crashing back onto yours. 

You have no plans the following day. Your flight back to Seoul isn’t until the following day, and then several of the girls are going home to visit their families since you’ve got the whole week off. You know Ten’s schedule’s clear the following day too because you’d bribed your manager to find out his flight information and he’d relented, maybe finally taking pity on you in this whole situation.

“Not here.” Ten tells you even as he continues kissing you. “Can you meet me at the hotel gym? At midnight?”

“The gym? Tonight?” 

Ten nods, kisses you again, and then disappears down the hallway, and you have to navigate your way back to your dressing room alone. 

Life seems to always get in your way.

Your manager insists that if you’re going to go down to the hotel gym at this hour alone, then you can’t go. But if he accompanies you, then you can go. “It’s too late, and you definitely shouldn’t be down there working out alone.”

“It’s not even that late?” You direct his attention to the nearest clock, showing that it’s only almost ten o’clock at night.

He shakes his head. “You can’t go alone.”

“But--!” 

He shakes his head sharply. “No. And why do you even want to go work out? You just finished performing. You should rest tonight. I already know you’re going to be complaining for the next few weeks that you’re tired and never get enough rest. Well, take this chance to take a rest. You have a whole week off. If you really want to work out, go then. But tonight, stay in and relax.”

You can see that there’s no way that he’s going to let you leave your hotel room. So you sigh, “Can I at least have my phone back? It’s been weeks. I’ve been good. Followed all of your stupid rules and restrictions. And I’m an adult, oppa. Stop treating me like a kid by taking my phone away.”

“You’re right.” He makes a face. “Every time you act up we should tell you we’re going to restrict your Ten access. Stay right here.”

He leaves your room for a few moments, and when he reappears, he’s got your phone. “Behave, okay? You’ve got your phone. You got to see and talk to and touch Ten earlier. Please, don’t cause me any more trouble. Jihye and Hanna are doing a VLive in their room. Miyeon and Heeyoung are right next to you. My door is right across the hall, remember, so if you try to go down there tonight, I’ll know.”

“I won’t leave my room, oppa. Good night.” You hurry him out, and as soon as he’s gone you lock the door and leap onto your bed, rejoicing that you got the lucky draw for the single room. And then you call Ten.

His phone rings. And it rings and rings and rings. 

Right before it sends you to voicemail, he answers, speaking your name breathlessly into the phone. “You’ve got your phone back?”

“Yes, and my manager won’t let me leave my room to come down to the gym.” You sigh and stare up at the ceiling. “But he never said anything about anyone coming here. I have my room all to myself.”

Ten’s end of the call is silent for a moment, just crackling static, and then, “What’s your room number?”

He’s at your door fifteen minutes later, softly knocking, and you quietly open the door to let him slip inside, then you close it just as quietly.

Ten slides his arms around your waist, and you spin in his arms to face him, cling to his shoulders and let him press you back against the door as he kisses you breathless, until your belly is in knots.

You untangle yourself from him, taking one of his hands from your waist, you begin to lead him away from the door, toward the bed instead. And that’s when Ten spots your bluetooth speaker. “I’m gonna play some music,” he tells you, pulling out his phone from his pocket, and when he does, a whole string of condoms falls out. 

You stoop to pick them up, toss them over onto the bed. Ten quickly taps through his phone, and soon music is playing through the speaker, and he drops his phone to put his hands on you again. 

You start by pushing his jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you lift his sweatshirt over his head, groan when you see the tshirt he’s wearing beneath that. “How many layers have you got on?” You whine, dipping your fingers underneath to push it up his chest, getting him naked from the waist up. Ten laughs, his hands moving to strip you too, a much easier feat as you’re only wearing a tshirt and a sleeveless top beneath, which he pushes down to your waist before unfastening your bra.

He touches you lightly, his hands skimming up your side, cupping your breasts, a thumb teasing over each nipple as they harden under his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” Ten tells you, backing you toward the bed, kissing you once before you turn away, pushing your pants and panties down and slinking back onto the mattress.

As you look at Ten there at the foot of the bed, carefully stripping out of his pants, you’re filled with an overwhelming want and need for him. You’re wet and hot, and when you slide a hand down to touch yourself, Ten groans, and his cock appears in his hand as he moves onto the bed too. 

You sigh his name, reaching for his hip, drawing him closer.

The music flows through the room, filling the silences, masking any of the sounds you might be making that would otherwise be audible to the rooms on either side of yours. 

Ten watches as you play with yourself, your wetness glistening in the room’s lighting. You’re about to actually get a finger inside yourself when Ten’s hand touches your wrist. “I want to do that. Let me do that for you.”

As if you would tell him no?

Ten sinks over you, and his fingers dip between your legs, touching your clit, slipping through your wetness, and then at last, he presses one finger inside you. You squirm and whimper softly, touching his shoulders and his chest, tangling your fingers around the back of his neck to pull his mouth down against yours.

“So pretty,” Ten coos, kissing you once before he moves his kisses to your neck. “Watching you perform earlier tonight, all I could think of was how pretty you are, how talented. How much you deserve to be happy and feel good. Like this.” He slowly pumps his finger inside you, but you want more, and when you buck your hips and whine about it, he gets the message and fits another finger in beside the first. 

He fingers you gently, taking his time in getting you nice and wet, stretched for his cock. He kisses you, whispering praises that make you wetter and needier, until you’re certain that you’re dripping onto the bed, creating a puddle on the sheets, but Ten doesn’t let up. He uses his thumb on your clit, swirling it in circles while he presses three fingers inside you, massaging that spongy pleasurous spot inside you.

“Ten, please.” You beg. “Please let me cum.”

He nods, kisses your throat where he can feel your heartbeat. “Cum for me.”

His fingers curl, his thumb rubs your clit just right, and you close your legs around his hand, twist your fingers in his hair, and keen his name. Your orgasm pulses through you in waves as Ten keeps fucking you on his fingers. He even kisses down your throat to your chest and leaves little love bites on your breasts.

And you feel satisfied, but still hungrier for him.

No sooner has he pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the bedsheets, than he’s moving forward, reaching for the string of condoms you’d tossed aside earlier.

Ten tears one open, and you watch as he rolls it down his length, and then you reach for him, pulling him in between your legs where you’re warm and wet and needy. “Fuck me, Ten. I need to feel you fill me up. Please.”

You’re ready for him. Never been readier.

His tip pushes inside you, a strange feeling but not painful or uncomfortable really. And then the rest of him follows slowly. He eases into you, gazing down at you and the way that you bite your lip to keep from moaning, the way you turn your head to the side so you don’t have to look at him looking at you feeling embarrassed about your body and the way that he’s inside you. It feels so strange and intimate and good and sweet and right to be doing this with Ten.

“You okay?” He asks once he’s fully inside you. You breathe shortly feeling odd with something as long and wide around as a penis inside of you. It’s much different than fingers or a tampon. “Alright?”

You nod. “Fine. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Ten laughs. “Just chilling inside a beautiful girl.”

You lift your hips slightly, and something in Ten’s expression changes. He pulls back just a bit and then pushes into you again, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth until you reach up, drag your thumb just under his bottom lip and then lean up to kiss him.

You find very quickly that the rhythm of his hips moving against yours, his cock thrusting inside you, it’s a rhythm that you can follow with your own movements, the rise and fall of your chests against each other, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. It’s all just a dance. A very, very intimate dance, but a dance nonetheless.

Ten soon is moaning for you, burying his face against your shoulder to kiss and bite at the sensitive skin there. Marking you, but in a place where no one will see. He pushes one of your legs higher, giving himself a different angle to thrust in at, and you drag your nails down his back and cry out his name.

When he cums, it’s sudden. His teeth drag against your skin, his breath hot and fast as he moans, bucking into you and filling the condom, though you do wish that you could feel him cumming inside you. His heartbeat races, you can feel it where your hand rests against his back, thundering under your palm.

And you’re not sure what comes over you then, what confidence it is that convinces you to push him over onto his back, and you sit upon him, and ride his cock. 

Ten lifts a hand to your breasts, watching you with warm, sensual eyes as you seek your own orgasm. His thumb of his other hand finds your clit again, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub until you feel a pressure building low in your belly, the sweet build up that tingles from your belly to your toes and in your fingers, and Ten sits up, wraps an arm around your waist, his lips dance over your shoulder again, his thumb still building your pleasure, and you cry out, moaning and swearing and your orgasm overflows through you, and it grows more intense and then you hear Ten swear and you can feel your orgasm literally spilling from you as you squirt on his cock.

But it feels so good even as you’re overwhelmed with embarrassment. It takes you a moment to come down, wrapped around his softening erection, your belly and his sticky from your essence.

“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble when you’ve somewhat recovered. 

Ten laughs. “No, it’s cute. I promise. Very cute.” He dips forward to kiss you. “You’re the cutest. I wish you could’ve seen yourself just then. So sexy and cute, pretty and wet and warm around me. Never wanna let you out of my arms again.”

He wrapped his arms tight around you and rolled you under him once more, showering your face in kisses until you’re laughing with him still inside you, a stranger sensation than anything yet.

After a while, Ten does pull out of you, leaving you to dispose of the condom. You go pee and get a glass of water, and then the pair of you crawl back into the big bed, drawn together under the covers like magnets, and you fall asleep tangled together like that.

In the morning, you’re woken by your manager knocking on the door, telling you that it’s already late, and you should be awake by now. You hear Miyeon’s voice as well, calling that she wants to go exploring, and she wants you to come with her.

But Ten’s still beside you in bed, looking sleepy and soft. You want to spend the morning with him, wrap yourself around him and draw pleasure from each other again, but Ten kisses your shoulder and climbs from the bed. “You should go. I’ll see you back in Seoul.”

You dress quickly, brushing your hair into a messy bun, and before you walk out the door, you snag Ten’s sweatshirt from the pile of his clothes on the floor and put it on. 

If Miyeon or your manager notices the love bites peeking out from the collar of a sweatshirt that’s not yours, neither of them says a thing.

The End

a/n: this was not the story I originally intended. like I was going to write a bakery friends to lovers au with ten, but it became this instead oops. anyway I hope you enjoyed it! please let me know what you thought, like and reblogs are appreciated!

[spinster-sisters]

Sunflower. LTY

Warnings: Face fucking mostly, a toxic as fuck relationship, swearing

A/N: THIS RELATIONSHIP IS TOXIC AF SO PLEASE DON’T THINK IM SAYING THIS IS OK OR THAT IM ROMANTISIZING THIS

also, guess which song this is based on lol

This is gonna b like a 3 part mini series so stay tuned

THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG

You don’t know how the fuck you got here, standing outside the looming apartment building. It was going to rain soon, you could tell because not a star was visible in the night sky, covered by clouds. Distant thunder rumbled in the air. You told yourself never again, yet here you were.

It started almost a year ago,

You meet Taeyong in at a frat party. You hadn’t spoken much, both of you too drunk to care. It didn’t take long for you to take him home.

When you woke the next morning, your bed was empty, no note, no text, nothing. At the time you didn’t care, it was just a one night stand right?

Then, not even a week later it happened again, this time you were both completely sober, having spoken for almost an hour before, only this time you didn’t even make it out of the party before you found a closet for a quick fuck. Once again, total static after. After the fourth time, the man ghosted you, you told yourself no more. You had become somewhat invested in this man, each time believing you might have a future, only for him to disappear the next day. So you promised your self that it wouldn’t happen again.

It was only 2 weeks before the man had once again lured you into his bed. You didn’t mean to fall in love, you didn’t. You tried fucking around, just as he did. You tried blind dates and parties, and even binge drinking to try and keep your mind away from Taeyong. Yet every time, you would scramble to meet him, anytime, any place he desired. You were at his beck and call.

It got to the point were others knew not to even bother, you were Taeyong’s. No matter how much you flirted, how hot you looked, how desperate they were, no one dared to touch what Taeyong had successfully claimed. Even if he didn’t seem to need you.

He continued to sleep around as he pleased, going days without even texting you, then calling you at 2 am to come for a quick fuck. And every time you came running.

It was clear to everyone that to you, he was everything. But to him, you were nothing.

This reality hit you especially hard 3 weeks ago. He had been out with a girl, but she got to piss drunk before he could get his dick wet. And instead of jerking off he called you. You were there in 12 minutes. Though your time was cut short when he got a phone call, it was the girl from earlier, sobered up and ready for a good time.

He left before you had even got your clothes on.

That hit you hard. For 3 weeks you ignored his calls, for 3 weeks you avoided him at parties, for 3 weeks you were strong.  

Yet here you were, standing outside his apartment. The rain had just begun to fall. You were broken, you missed him, you wanted to see him, talk to him, feel him. He was like a drug or a god, in your eyes. You craved his attention, reveling in the few moments you had it. Those moments gave you a better high than any recreational substance ever could.

Which is why you are here, you are an addict going through withdrawals. And you needed your fix.

You walked up to the steps to the heavy metal door, and pressed the button next to his name, buzzing up to his apartment. You stood silent for a moment, wondering if he was even going to answer, it was nearly midnight.

“Hello?” Taeyong’s voice sounded over the intercom. Your heart cried out at the sound. It was pathetic really. You breath soon stopped though, you had no clue what to say. There was always a chance he would simply turn you away. You finally reached out a shaky finger, pressing down the button once again. A low buzzing sound told you he could hear you.

You were still at a loss for words. So you only squeaked out,

“Tae?”

Before releasing the button.

This seemed to be enough though, because soon a high pitch buzz rang out, signaling that the door was open. You heaved open the heavy metal door, before walking up the many flights of stairs to reach his apartment.

You stood outside his door for a minute, contemplating leaving. You had barely had the time to consider it before the door swung open.

And there he stood, in all his glory. A loss barely their white t hung off his slim frame, grey sweat pants loosely tied around his waist. The sight of him was enough to make your mouth run dry, you were practically gasping for water. You quickly swallowed in an attempt to fix the sensation, your heart racing for him.

He lifted the corner of his mouth into a slight smirk.

“Almost though you forgot which one it was,” He spoke, his voice deep and smooth enough to bring you to your knees. But in truth, he was almost mocking you with that statement. He knew as well as you did there was no way you could forget the way to him. You suppose that’s the reason your friends begged you to let him go, to ditch him completely. Because he knew how crazy you were for him, he knew you would come when he called, he knew the hold he had over you.

He chuckled at your slight pout, reaching out and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into his chest. You fell graciously into his arms, closing your eyes as his arms wrapped around your waist. You breathed in his sent, feeling your mind cloud over at the strong musk. Though your face was in his neck you sensed him moving close your ear, moving your hair out of the way with his nose.

“Miss me?” he whispered into the shell of your ear. You almost cried out to him, yes, yes you did miss him. But instead, you simply wrapped your arms around him and nodded into his shoulder. You finally saw his smirk when he pulled you back, admiring you at arm’s length. He looked up and down your body.  You blushed madly under his gaze.

Taeyong finally leads you inside, closing the door with a thud behind you, only to lean against the dining table, arms folded across his chest, now grinning wildly.

“What made you decide to come back to me, baby?” He asked, thought the sweetness in his voice didn’t reach his eyes, which showed how amused he was by your sudden appearance.

Something had happened, though you were reluctant to share. But it didn’t take much more of his intense gaze to have your resolve cracking.

“umm,” You began, not sure how much you wanted to share. “There was this guy” You eyed him, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t have one. “ Well, we were hanging out, and one thing leads to another,” You continued in a shaky voice, “ I hadn’t told him my name,” You explained, seeing how that was the only way any guy would be willing to risk sleeping with Taeyong’s girl. “But Tae it was-”

“Bad?” He filled in the blank. Still clearly finding the whole thing very amusing.

You swallowed again and nodded. At this, he audibly laughed.

“Well, what did you expect Y/N?” He chuckled out, pushing off the tabled and stalking towards you. “And I’m guessing you finally realized that no other guy can please you the way I do?” He asked mocking you slightly. You nodded again, shamefully.

“Did you finally realize how much you need me?” He asked, this time looking expectantly at you, waiting for an answer. You finally looked up to meet his dark swirling eyes. You had fallen in love with those eyes. You nodded, practically lunging froward to once again attach your self to him.

He chuckled at you once again, hand stroking down the length of your body, from the back of your neck to the swell of your ass.

“Show me how much you need me,” He orders in a soft voice leading you over to the couch. He was so fucking beautiful, your mind was clouded, practically drunk off his attention. You wanted to please him. Make him see how much you wanted him.

You knelt on the couch beside him, taking his hand into yours and raising his wrist to your lips. You trial your lips down the length of his arm savoring the way his soft skin felt against your lips.

Although you found him to be perfect in every way, Taeyong was not with his blemishes, one of these was how possessive he could be over you. While you often deluded yourself into thinking it was out of love, the truth was that Taeyong was greedy, and to put it simply, didn’t like to share toys.

So you continued to shower his body in affection. You moved yourself to straddle his lap, lips now reaching up to his shoulder, you hands skimmed underneath his shirt, tugging lightly, asking him to remove it. He obliged you, pulling the fabric over his head, his hands then resting on your hips, rubbing soft circles into your jeans.

Your lust had you practically drooling over the man in front of you. Just as you were about to dive back into to worshipping his golden skin, he reached up onto the hair at the base of your neck, taking a fist full into his hand by the roots, keeping your head immobile. He tugged at your hair, causing your head to fall back slightly, exposing your neck to the man. In your vulnerable state Taeyong tutted at you.

“So, this man,” He started, your blood ran cold “What was his name?”

Though the question was innocent, it held a deeper meaning.

“umm,?” You wondered aloud. Your mind was so swirled with thoughts of Taeyong, you honestly had a hard time recalling. His hand tapped your hip, telling to hurry up. Though just as he did so he also pulled out tighter onto his lap, bulge pressing into your core deliciously. You got lost in the feeling, starting to swirl and grind your hips absent mindedly

“Uhhh, I think it was-” You trailed off quietly, one good tug on your hair, reminding you of the question, “Umm- it was- I think I was Doyoung?” You wonder aloud. In reward for answering Taeyong began to grind up into you, matching your pace. The seam of your jeans was rubbing directly onto your clit, his hips swirling the bud onto the rough fabric. The outline of his cock was pressing perfectly on your slit, practically sliding between your folds through the fabric. You were already in pure bliss, happily chasing your high.

“Hmm,” He spoke aloud, almost casually as if he wasn’t one particularly strong thrust away from making you cum in your pants, which were already damp from your wetness.

“ You should know better than anyone, baby, how angry that makes me.” He adds, bringing a hand down to add pressure directly onto your clit, you cried out, picking up your pace.

“I think you need a reminder that your mine,” He comments. You were hanging off his every word, seconds away from release your stomach clenched in anticipation. You swirled your hips, once, twice, a third time. You were about to cum, hard, a fourth.

Taeyong quickly released your hair and took you by the hips, lifting you off of him. You nearly toppled over back onto him in shock. You stared at him, mouth agape and wide-eyed, a loud whimper ripping through your body. You were crying out for a release.

He laughed at you once again

“But first you need to thank me for letting you come up here after that stunt. Not listening to me for weeks? Ignoring me? You’ve been bad, baby” He practically spat at you as you collapsed onto the floor at his feet.

“Get over here and apologize.” He demanded, spreading his legs enough for you to sit comfortably between them. If you had thought for a moment you might have noticed the hypocrisy in his words, but you didn’t. Instead, you eagerly crawled into place. Mouth already hanging open, like an eager pet waiting to be fed.

Taeyong sat up straight, hand once again finding purchase in your hair while the other took his now fully erect dick out of his sweat pants. Your cunt throbbed in anticipation, mouth-watering at the sight. You straighten your back, leaning as far forward as the hand in your hair would allow.

“So eager, baby” He chuckled, before guiding your head onto his length. You happily let your jaw go slack as he guided your head up and down his cock. You loved him so much it hurt, so to you, his pleasure was worth the dull pain in the back of your throat. Though clearly, this was not enough, as soon he started thrusting into your mouth harshly. Tears began to stream down your cheeks as his throbbing dick moved down your throat. You choked and gagged frequently, trying your hardest to breathe through your nose.

“Hmm, such a good pretty baby,” He remarked, watching the drool that escaped your mouth drip down your chin. You looked up at him with big round eyes, causing him to groan. As his thrusts become more sporadic. He threw his head back, halting his movements. Soon, thick ropes of cum came pours down your throat. It was sticky and warm, already sliding down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow it, not that you minded.

You finally were released, pulling yourself off his dick. You were panting, throat feeling sore.

His hooded eyes watched you amusement still in his eyes.

“Oh, baby, you’ve always been so good for me,” He praised. “You’re never going to ignore me again are you?” He asked, as though talking to a child. You nodded in affirmation, completely, madly in love with the man before you.

Both of his hands reach out and cupped your face.

“Mine,” he said, more to himself than to you, as your eyes shown with adoration, practically sparkling with devotion.

I love you, I love you, I love you. You brain chanted over and over and over again. Staring longingly at his perfect face. It was as if a red glow surrounded him, everything aside from his figure was a blur, all you could see was Taeyong. You rested your cheek on his knee, eyes not leaving him.

Just as he was about to open his mouth a sudden ringing erupted from his phone. His eyes left your face. Hands leaving your head, and you felt a crash.

He reached forward without missing a beat, answering the phone on the second ring. Your head stopped spinning

“Hello” He spoke, voice clear and unbothered. The person on the other end talked for a moment before Taeyong responded,

“Of course,”

You came down from your high,

Without another word, he hung up the phone, stood abruptly, fixed his appearance, and walked out the front door.

Leaving you in a pile on his floor.

You were back where you started.