#hadn't gone through the events

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

The Warrior Inspector couldn’t have been more surprised when The Coordinates took the form of Lily Weaver (as the Good Lamb Entity),

as he’d yet to meet Lily and go through the events that led to the Spirit of the BOOTH inhabiting her body.

[kenananamin]

Tie my tie, marry me

Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him

It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.

You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.

Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.

He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.

"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.

Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.

Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.

The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.

It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.

You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.

"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"

You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.

Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.

Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."

His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.

Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.

Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.

Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.

"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"

Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.

[ckret2]

At some point, the Axolotl must've witnessed the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre.

As you can see, Bill is very happy and definitely not at all traumatized and doing great and look at all these followers he's found who are definitely alive.

Here, have a fic about the Axolotl, the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and Bill trying so so hard to convince himself that he's the hero.

####

To the mortals he swam past, with their different calendars and their different ways of perceiving time, the great Axolotl's migration through space and between dimensions was an event of great note: his passing marked eclipses, tsunamis, festivals, omens, meteor showers; his migration was studied by astronomers and his position was marked in astrological birth charts.

To the Axolotl, he was on his daily commute home. He could take an interdimensional portal, but swimming was better for the environment and he could use the exercise.

He passed by the same two dimensional wall every day. It was covered with many little worlds, and so many of them populated with little mortals, and he'd never paid any particular attention to the wall—until yesterday. A bold little triangle had shouted at him as he passed. It had been an amusing conversation—first contact was always fun—but he'd been busy and couldn't talk more than a moment, just long enough for the Axolotl to be charmed that a lower-dimensional creature had yelled at him and for the triangle to be shocked that a higher-dimensional creature had answered. The triangle had told him that, to his two-dimensional people, these shadows on the wall, the Axolotl was an eclipse: they marked the time by the shadow he cast on their flat world during his commute.

He hadn't even learned the triangle's real name. The triangle had refused to tell him, instead introducing himself as the "Magister Mentium." Teacher of minds? Maybe it was a job title.

Between the nightmare of a case the Axolotl was currently handling and the fact that he'd had to stay late working, he'd nearly forgotten about yesterday's fascinating little meeting until he was leaving on his nightly commute. He didn't know how long the tiny shapes' life cycles were; he hoped the little triangle was still alive today. If not, maybe he'd left behind descendants.

But when he came up to the wall, it was gone.

The vacuum reeked of burning hydrogen.

The Axolotl stopped, puzzled. The wall wasn't empty, wasn't damaged, wasn't going through heat death—the entire thing was missing. No rubble. Surely it hadn't been demolished for some new construction? It had been in good condition. It was a fairly new plane of reality, likely under fifty billion years old. And it had admittedly been a few eons since the Axolotl had studied dimension use & zoning law, but last he checked it was unlawful to demolish a populated dimension without transplanting the growths first—which took much longer than a day. So what could possibly have done this? And what he saw behind the wall...

Something was very wrong. He started moving again, faster, looking for someone who could tell him what was happening. He kept the ragged rip in reality left by the missing wall in his peripheral vision. Stars and stardust slowly fell in, sucked through the tear. The wall must have come down by accident.

Nobody would have knowingly left behind such a large hole to Dimension Zero.

Assuming he was looking at Dimension Zero; he wasn't sure he was. Beneath all other dimensions was supposed to be a void, an empty in-between space. The zeroth "dimension" was simply reality's center point, the not-dimension between all dimensions; it wasn't a place. But with the two dimensional wall gone, he didn't see reality bending in toward a point like he should. He saw a roiling, nauseating mass of blinding colors, thrashing around each other like a frightened pile of injured worms.

Far in the distance, a full reality away, he saw a faint line of blue light.

It was several minutes before he began to run into other people. He passed a crew of cosmic firefighters and their ships, spread out over a span of space wider than an asteroid belt. The fact that they didn't appear to currently be fighting any fires was more disconcerting than a full blaze would have been. An eerie tension hung thick over the scene like invisible smoke. As the Axolotl swam by a couple of firefighters, he overheard them saying, "... orders of magnitude higher than anything we've been trained to handle. An entire reality catching fire is one thing, but the concept of realitycatching fire...?"

"And the speed it's moving..."

"Excuse me," the Axolotl said, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. (Why was he so afraid? He was barely acquaintances with one resident on the wall.) "Can you tell me what happened to the wall? It was just here yesterday."

Rather than explain, one of them pointed in the direction he'd been going. "Sorry, we don't know any more than you do. Look for the storm. You can't miss it."

The other asked, "Are you one of the guys with the apoc cops?"

His fear leaped higher. The "apoc cops" were members of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force. "No. Sorry, I have to go." He swam onward toward the blue line of light.

The stench of burning hydrogen grew stronger. He smelled something else acrid underneath.

####

To his slight relief, the "storm" wasn't the disaster that had brought down this wall. Rather, it was a person: a lightly raining storm cloud with a gray rain-soaked fedora perched on top, hovering in space.

It was talking to a hapless-looking furred serpent twice the Axolotl's length with four mismatched limbs: she clutched a can of spray paint in her claws, and was so nervous he could hear the marble in the can rattling. A disembodied sunbeam pierced the eye of the storm cloud to shine in the serpent's face as she spoke, and a tornado swirled beneath its cloud, carrying all its personal effects—including a tumbling badge from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, its logo of a mushroom cloud struck out with the "no" symbol still visible through a thin glaze of sleet. A chill ran through the Axolotl at the sight of that badge.

The cloud wasn't the only one with the apoc cops on the scene. There were several other investigators nearby, taking readings where the wall used to be. The Axolotl didn't like just how many were buzzing around. They seemed far too busy for far too empty a space, and they steered far too clear of the thrashing, multicolored miasma covering the emptiness that should contain Dimension Zero.

There were several stars in the area that the investigators had to work around. Between the crowds and the missing wall, it took the Axolotl a moment to realize where they were: this was the spot he'd met the triangle yesterday. He was sure of it. He recognized the star right next to the missing wall, the one the triangle had told him he eclipsed during his commute. He'd passed it millions of times.

Why had the apoc cops set up here?

The star was slowly falling toward the roiling miasma where Dimension Zero should have been. He nudged it back into place as he passed.

As the Axolotl approached the duo, the serpent was saying, "I told you, I don't know how it caught fire! I was just passing by..." The storm cloud's sunbeam dropped from her face to point skeptically at her spray paint. She hid it behind her back and quickly went on, "I was just passing by, minding my own business and not doing anything illegal, and suddenly the whole wall went up in flames!"

The cloud said, "The whole wall? Simultaneously?"

"The whole thing! I mean... it kind of rolled across the dimension, but—it took less than ten seconds to cover everything I saw!"

"Which direction did the fire travel?"

While the serpent tried to remember, the Axolotl swam up to the storm cloud. "Excuse me, the firefighters said you're in charge of the investigation?"

"Currently," the cloud said, in a tone that suggested it very much wished it wasn't. It looked over the Axolotl, then turned back to the serpent—she flinched when its sunbeam hit her face again—and it asked gruffly, "Is this your lawyer?"

The serpent looked hopeful. "Are you my lawyer?"

"No, I'm not," the Axolotl said, perturbed. Potential defendants aside, nobody ever insinuated he was somebody's lawyer and meant it in a nice way—and he was on the receiving end of such accusations more and more often lately. His reputation was beginning to precede him. "We've never met. I'm trying to find out what happened to this wall. I know a—friend in there. You said something about a fire?"

An active ATTF investigation was in no way the Axolotl's business. But people had a tendency to cooperate with professionals, whether or not their profession had anything to do with the situation at hand. The ATTF agent turned to the Axolotl and said, "You had a friend in there. The wall that used to be here, Dimension 2 Delta, has been completely incinerated."

The Axolotl stared at the cloud, trying to process that. But the whole wall had been there yesterday. Billions of galaxies, each with trillions of stars, each capable of supporting trillions of species—never mind lives. "You can't mean completely. Surely there are some survivors?"

"Not a single one," the cloud said. "Not even gods and ghosts made it out."

"How?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the storm said. "Right now, the only witness we've found was the person who called in the emergency." A branch of lightning pointed toward the serpent. "And she doesn't know a damn thing." The serpent nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"But that's... How does an entire dimension disappear with only one witness?"

"Very quickly," the storm said. "The apocalypse Origin & Cause investigation can't make heads or tails of the scene—" a gust of wind swept demonstratively toward the other apoc cops taking readings near the missing wall, "but far as we can tell, the damn thing spontaneously combusted—somewhere near here."

The Axolotl stared helplessly between the serpent and the storm. "Dimensions aren't supposed to spontaneously combust," he said, very reasonably and very unnecessarily.

"Tell 2Δ that," the storm said. "Only time a dimension moves that fast is during a Big Bang explosion or a Big Crunch implosion—and 2Δ wasn't undergoing a Big Crunch. No natural one, anyway. In all my eons with ATTF, I've never seen anything like it."

The Axolotl had been around enough eons himself to know that, after a certain point, novelty became very, very scary—because things working like they should shouldn't do anything you'd never seen before. He worriedly searched the roiling chaos exposed by Dimension 2 Delta's collapse for any sign of what had happened.

The chaos simply thrashed. It moved like it was in pain.

"Did that..." the Axolotl gestured vaguely toward the chaotic foam, "have anything to do with the wall's combustion?"

The serpent shrugged. "I didn't see it until after the fire went by."

The storm grunted uncertainly, a low, thunderous grumble. "Heck if we know. It's connected, no doubt about that—but we haven't even figured out what it is yet. All we know is, it shouldn't have been behind the wall."

The Axolotl stared into the roiling colors, looking for anything visible through the thrashing kaleidoscopic colors.  "If you don't know what it is yet—then, how do you know there aren't survivors in there?" The Axolotl couldn't stop seeing that poor, frightened, awed triangle he'd met yesterday. All the people who'd once been in Dimension 2 Delta mattered—of course they did, those billions of trillions of trillions of billions of lives; he wanted any of them to survive—but that triangle was the one he knew, the one he saw in his mind's eye now. The whole dimension was contained inside that triangle. He had to hope. "I'm going to check."

"What—? You're crazy! Don't you know falling into Dimension Zero will destroy you?!"

"I know falling into Dimension Zero destroys you; I don't know what falling into that thing will do." He squared up with the chaos and steeled his nerves. "Besides, I can regenerate. I'm an axolotl."

"But—!"

"Sorry, there isn't time for more questions." He swam into the maelstrom.

####

Dimension Zero was supposed to be a singularity. Like a black hole, but even smaller—a point so dense it broke physics. If you fell in you'd be crushed into that point by the weight of all realities, a point so small it had no volume.

But whatever was behind where the wall had been, it was certainly no point.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was barraged with a psychic hurricane. Reality frothed and foamed like a flood spilling from a burst dam. Distant baby stars were born and popped like bubbles, and old stars fell in and were gloriously reignited. His every sense was bombarded with infinite sensations—every color and image in this dimension all at once; every song that had ever been played playing in the same instant and the instant extended indefinitely; strobe lights that were both flashing on and flashing off at the exact same moment. Beneath the music was a constant hiss like the background radiation of reality, the static echo of a universe's birth, but much too loud; he could swear it sounded like gibbering, babbling voices, their desperate messages unintelligible. He smelled every scent, including the lingering smell of burning hydrogen that he'd noticed outside; but above and beyond all that, he smelled the stench of burning life.

He knew now, this was Dimension Zero: it was as if all of spacetime had been crushed into a singularity, but then the singularity was bloated up to the size of an entire universe. Dimension Zero was never supposed to be this bloated.

And the most terrifying part: there were people in this bizarre ruin of a dimension. Millions of them. (Just as horrifying: there were only millions of them.) He was sure he must have been hallucinating—here, dreams and reality swirled around each other like a bottle of water and oil shaken until they were forced to mix—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was that the people were a part of reality. They were, perhaps, the most real thing in the entire dimension.

They were all dancing.

They were all dead.

"Heeey, look who's here!" Suddenly, in front of the Axolotl, there he was—as if he'd always been in front of the Axolotl, as if he were always everywhere at once. The ghost of the little triangle he'd seen yesterday, neon incorporeal. "Happy New Year, everybody!" He laughed. "Get it? That—that's a joke, time doesn't pass in the dream realm, so..." The triangle waved off the Axolotl. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. Screw you. Anyway, introductions! I should do that." 

The triangle was extremely inebriated. He was blinking blearily, floating crookedly, moving in odd uncoordinated jerks, his pupil expanding and contracting with no correlation to the light it was taking in. He seemed to flicker across multiple timelines that had been collapsed into one, like a drunk that couldn't walk a straight line: appearing here then there, then multiple places at once, then everywhere; and then became everywhere, and then collapsed again to a single triangular point. The Axolotl had the worrying impression that the triangle hadn't been sober for a long time.

"So! These are my people!" He gestured with a flourish to the dancing corpse puppets. The strobe lights—which, the Axolotl only now realized, didn't actually have a source, but were rather disembodied rays of light emanating from nothing—turned to highlight them from every angle. It was like a cloud of glitter, all these tiny, flat, jewel-tone flecks, emerald and citrine and ruby and sapphire, triangles and squares and pentagons and hexagons. Each with two spindly arms; some with legs and some without; a single dull eye or a slack mouth; some of them cracked and chipped like broken glass, some of them crushed and melted together into multi-corpsed horrors, some of them fraying and peeling apart around the edges like fabric; so much silvery blood dripping and floating around them. Such beautiful, colorful dancing gore. "All my followers and friends! They love me! They couldn't see you last time you flew by, but thanks to me, they sure can now! Say hellooo!"

It took the Axolotl a moment to realize that the triangle's eye was boring into him and the instruction was for him. "Hello," he said weakly. 

"Very nice." The triangle turned without turning to the millions lost inside Dimension Zero, reality shifting around him to put all of the dimension's prisoners in front of his eye. The Axolotl reeled from existential vertigo. "Now check this out!" The triangle gestured at the Axolotl for his people's benefit. "Behold! Your Magister Mentium presents to you: the eclipse! In the horrifying pink flesh! Quite a sight, huh?"

Many of the dancers turned toward him. Some aimed their dull, dead eyes in his direction. He shivered under their chill stares.

Heedless of the Axolotl's horror, the triangle elbowed him. "I didn't peg you for a party crasher, pinky!" (The triangle's touch was so cold.) "But hey, the more the merrier. Welcome to the dream realm, have a drink!"

A 2D cup manifested in front of the Axolotl that, based on its smooth, featureless yellow surface and its glow, appeared to be made from the triangle's own ghostly flesh. It seemed to be filled with watered-down raw existence. He didn't touch the cup. "What's the dream realm?" He couldn't stop staring at the dancers macabre.

"This is!" The triangle stretched out his arms—and stretched them, and stretched them, seeming to embrace all of reality at once. The Axolotl got the terrifying impression he was within the embrace too. "The realm of dreams! My realm! Paradise of color and light! Realm of spirits and muses!"

"It looks more like a nightmare."

"Do I come to your house and insult your wallpaper? Buzz off."

When the triangle dismissively floated away from him, the Axolotl again got the dizzying sensation that he was the one moving. The truth finally dawned on him:

The triangle, somehow, was literally the center of this universe. Point 0,0,0 on the cartesian plane of reality. Whenever he moved, Dimension Zero moved with him. When he backed away from the Axolotl, Dimension Zero backed with him, rushing past while the Axolotl held still.

And not once during their conversation did any of the millions of dead shapes stop dancing. 

"What are you doing?" the Axolotl asked, voice hushed.

"Partying," the triangle said. "We're having a party."

The Axolotl couldn't tear his eyes from the choreomaniacs' forced revelry. "How long have you been partying?"

"Uhh... pfff... I dunno, hard to keep track. A few months?" The triangle turned toward his tortured people. "Hey! How long have we been partying?"

One of the bodies mixed in amongst the dead, boogying deliriously, faintly cried back, "Time has no meaning and eternity has collapsed into a single unending moment of bliss!" (The Axolotl shuddered at the grotesque ventriloquism act.)

"Oh, yeah, right, forgot I decreed that. Thanks, pal!"

"You're welcome, oh wise and glorious Magister Mentium!"

The triangle turned back to the Axolotl. "An eternity."

The Axolotl tore his horrified eyes away from the dancers. "What about all the others?"

The triangle paused. "I don't know who you're talking about." The background radiation hissed in agitation.

The Axolotl very much suspected he did. "Your other people."

"There aren't any others," the triangle said defensively.

"There were! All of the other shapes around your world! All of the lives on other worlds! Where are all those people?!" He hoped that they might have gotten evacuated to a neighboring wall, or that they'd been concealed somehow, or even that they'd been collapsed together into the shapes he saw before him and could still be separated—

"It's fine," the triangle said stiffly. "Nothing important was lost."

"Nothing important?" the Axolotl repeated, shocked. "This was an entire dimension—!"

"A wall," the triangle said.

"A wall with lives on it—"

"Shadows."

"And do shadows not deserve to live?!"

The triangle flinched at the question as his good cheer crumbled. He didn't answer, but he gave the Axolotl a heavy, hard, emotionless look—a wretched, empty look—and the Axolotl knew he knew they did deserve to live.

"They don't matter," the triangle lied. "Nothing important was lost. Only the true believers and the worthy remain."

"Your dimension had billions of trillions of stars alone. All the people surrounding them—"

"I didn't see any stars!" He said it so vehemently—as though, if he didn't see them, they must not have existed. As though he refused to acknowledge their existence. "I told everyone about the third dimension, I told them we were going, they had their chance to join me!" His voice was shaking. As he spoke he grew larger, until he was as large as the Axolotl—or perhaps the universe had contracted around him. "And if they refused to join the liberation, then they are what we liberated ourselves from!" Distant bolts of lights flashed through Dimension Zero, responding to the triangle's outrage; the nearest stars blazed brighter for him. His dead people screamed in terror. They didn't stop dancing.

"You... tried to leave your dimension before the fire reached them?" Had he tried too late?

The triangle flinched again; his appearance flickered, like a TV that for a moment had picked up a pirate station broadcasting on the same frequency. The whispers hissing beneath the music grew more excited again, but the Axolotl still couldn't make out what they said beneath the party music.

The triangle said, "The... the fire came second."

"What came first?"

But he didn't answer. "Yeah, I brought them here." He spread his arms again, gesturing at the other shapes. "They followed me, and I freed them from our flat, restrictive dimension. They're all fine. And they all love me for saving them."

"Saving them?" he echoed. He wanted to laugh in disbelief, but it felt too much like laughing at a stranger's funeral. Laughing at an open mass grave. "But—everyone here is already dead. Even you." The triangle should be in an afterlife. Whatever afterlives his dimension once had, they were gone now. The Axolotl would have to help the triangle find one in another dimension—the paperwork alone would take time he didn't have to spare; he'd probably have to split off a timeline or two to squeeze it in...

The triangle snapped, "Whoa, hey, hey! Watch who you call dead, buddy! Look at me!" He stretched out his limbs, glowing dazzlingly bright. Brighter than a star. Even the Axolotl had to turn away from the blinding light. "I transcended my body! I'm made of pure energy! This is the most alive I've ever been!" A being of pure energy that had lost its physical form was the very definition of a ghost; but the Axolotl didn't have a chance to argue before the triangle went on, "And does anyone here look dead? Everyone's dancing! We're all having a great time, aren't we?" A few corpses groaned and gurgled in response.

If the triangle wanted to be a wandering ghost, fine. That was his prerogative. But he had no right to force the remains of his followers to deny their death with him. "Look—look at your people," the Axolotl commanded. "You're making them dance! You must know what state they're in!"

Without actually moving, the triangle had somehow become the space in between the Axolotl and his choreomaniacs, forming a sharp shield in between them. "You don't know what you're talking about. They're fine. They're immortal!"

The Axolotl gestured furiously past the triangle. "LOOK AT THEM!"

The triangle's gaze flickered toward them for a split second. The Axolotl saw guilt flashing in his eye; but then he squeezed his eye shut. "No, you look at them. Maybe it took me a little bit to get it right, but they're all great now."

To get it right? The Axolotl peered around the triangle at the shapes again, and only now saw that he was right.

Not all of them were dead.

Some were trapped in ecstatic trances; some were numb with terror; some were already long dead, and yet the corpses weren't being puppeted like he'd assumed—they danced under their own power. There were amalgams of a dozen, a hundred bodies fused together into shambling, gyrating horrors—but there was still life in their horrified eyes and their limbs twitched independently. The ones that were bleeding just kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, unending, blood never clotting nor running dry. The corpses and the comatose and the ailing and the bleeding dancing with the living that craved death.

The triangle was responsible for their condition?

He glided between the corpses, sliding his arms around a few of them. They kept dancing.  "I didn't quite get to a few of them in time, so I took the empty space where their souls used to be and filled them with an insatiable hunger to party," he said. "And look, they're good as new! Probably better than they were before, even!"

"These bodies should be laid to rest," the Axolotl said heatedly, "and the rest of you should be dead."

The triangle went still.

The Axolotl remembered, a second too late, that that was a perfectly normal thing to say to deceased clients and other gods in his line of work, but the kind of thing that scared the living daylights out of mortals.

"So that's a threat." His arms slid off the shapes; his fingers were stained with silvery blood that shimmered like static noise.

"No! No. But the condition that you're all in..."

"You'd better check yourself, frills," the triangle snapped. "You crash our party, in our eternal paradise, and start threatening us! Who the hell do you think you are, telling us we should be dead?!"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "A fully licensed psychopomp...?"

"Well you'd better keep your psycho, pompous paws off my people!" The triangle blazed bright red, literally incandescent with rage. Some of his "people" slowly stopped dancing and turned their hollow eyes toward the Axolotl.

And the Axolotl couldn't say why, but he was suddenly sure he was in very grave danger.

He backed up from the triangle, moving in the direction that the edge of Dimension Zero should have been, although he was no longer sure whether it was still behind him. "I... think I should leave."

"I think you'd better."

He turned and fled. He couldn't explain his panic, but he felt in his bones like something was chasing him. He had to spend longer than he wanted searching for the edge of this bizarre reality—the triangle had turned and twisted and moved the borders so many times that he'd completely lost his bearings—spied the nearest exit, and darted for it between two unfinished planes of reality.

He thought he felt flames at his back.

The triangle's voice followed him out: "Next time, poop on somebody else's party!"

He tumbled through the membrane between the overbloated Dimension Zero and the higher dimensions with the relief of a suffocating fish escaping its net to plummet back into the water. He had to take a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings—time passing so that each moment took its turn and ended when it was over, space that felt like space rather than all distances collapsed in on themselves—and looked back at Dimension Zero.

The longer he stared into the kaleidoscopic miasma, the more sure he was that, no matter where he looked, right at the center of his field of view, he could always see a shining yellow fleck of triangular glitter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I am glad that you—" well, "survived" wasn't the right word, "—still exist. And it was heroic of you to save as many people as you did. I shouldn't have said they shouldn't be alive; just..."

He felt like he could still see the shapes dancing in the corners of his eyes.

"... Just not alive like that."

####

Who was the triangle?

At their first meeting yesterday, it had been clear to the Axolotl that the triangle could see and perceive things off his wall while the rest of his people could not; he'd identified himself as "Magister Mentium" rather than by name; and he'd been surrounded by shapes, all turned toward him, listening: so perhaps he was a leader of some kind? He must have seen whatever destroyed their dimension coming and been able to use his position to evacuate a few people. The true believers and the worthy, he'd said—maybe his... congregation? Maybe he was a religious leader? At any rate, it was a miracle he'd saved as many people as he had with what must have been very short notice.

But... their forced dance... the bodies fused together... the living-who-should-be-dead bleeding and bleeding and bleeding without end...

The Axolotl didn't want to believe the triangle had any ill will. He reminded himself that he didn't know anything about his people or their culture. These shapes had been through something unimaginably traumatic. They'd watched an entire reality die; many of them were stuck in the process of dying in a place where they couldn't complete it. Any mortal would be insane with grief. Perhaps their magister was just leading them in some sort of cathartic dancing mania; perhaps this was how the shapes processed their grief. He hoped that was what it was. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak to the others—he didn't know how many could speak—but he had seen, for just a moment, how survivor's guilt ate at the triangle.

The storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had said that every single living being from Dimension 2 Delta had been killed. Even the gods and the ghosts. So how had the triangle and his people survived?

And what were they doing here, in the singular heart of all reality?

And what had happened to their world?

####

(Hello, thanks for reading!! If you were lured in by the colorful art I laid out as bait and this is your first time here, welcome!! This is part 1 of a 5-or-6 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna read more and learn the exciting answers to exciting questions like "Bill where in the good goddamn did you find a bunch of half-dead shapes??"

It's ALSO chapter 61 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out here. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: hey y'all remember when we had to skip over chapter 61 because it would've been posted like four days after TBOB came out and it needed MAJOR revisions? Well, here it is!! And also it's currently like six times longer than it was originally. We're gonna be hanging out with the Ax for like a month and a half, buckle up. 

Let me know what y'all think so far!!)

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[the-raindeer-king]

The thing with living with a man like Simon, who's been through so much, is that you pick up habits to help the both of you. There is no tiptoeing through the house, no jumping around corners. Not like you could anyway. He's got a habit of keeping you in sight most of the time.

When he's deployed, you leave a note on the fridge saying where you've gone, in case he comes home without telling you. Sometimes you leave more information, like what time you should be home, which of your friends you left with. Sometimes its just the location and a reminder to take care of himself.

You started doing this after the first (and only) time it happened. You had been out with friends, when he'd returned home from deployment. Home to an empty house. Your car sat in the driveway (you'd carpooled with your friends), and Simon assumed the worst.

He'd torn through the house, desperately trying to find some sort of evidence that you were still there. That you hadn't been kidnapped, or left him. His search ended empty handed, and he'd had a panic attack in the bathroom, reliving the events of losing his family.

You came home thirty minutes later, almost giddy when you'd seen his truck in the driveway. That feeling quickly evaporated, when you stepped inside the house. It looked like a tornado had swept through, living room torn apart, all the kitchen cabinets thrown open.

"Simon?" you call, setting your bags down by the front door.

You've never been scared of Simon, never had a reason to be. But when he came out of the bathroom, staring you down, eye black smeared across his face, looking more like Ghost than Simon, you suddenly understood why people gave your boyfriend wide berth.

"Simon?"

He doesn't respond, backing you up against the door. When he reaches out to gently caress your face, you notice his hands are shaking.

"Thought something happened to ya," he whispers, voice hoarse. And then he's dragging you into a hug, crushing you against his chest, arms like a vice around you. It takes you a second to realize he's shaking all over, that there's tears in his eyes.

"No, baby. I was just out with friends," you reply softly, gently running your fingers through hair, nails scratching against his scalp. Guilt eats at you, feeling horrible for causing him this kind of distress. You hadn't expected him today, didn't think to leave a note or something.

"I'll leave a note next time," you promise. And that's stuck since then.

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre/warnings: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

[meowmeowriley]

Simon was not a morning person.

Johnny was.

He'd never have guessed it, Soap and Ghost were up at the crack of dawn on base, barking orders at their men and running themselves just as ragged. Had he never followed Ghost home for leave, he could've lived his entire life not knowing that tiny personal detail. Johnny had come to realize that perhaps some of Ghost's hard-ass personality came from him being grumpy after waking up too early.

That first morning in Simon's flat Johnny had gotten up before the sun, same as he did on base. He brewed coffee and waited for a bit, waiting for Simon to rise, but the other man hadn't moved from the heap of limbs and duvet he had contorted himself into in the bed. Johnny went for a run and returned and still no movement from Simon.

Eventually, at nearly noon, Simon sauntered out of his room and into the kitchen, duvet cocooning him. If Soap drew a very tired caterpillar and a butterfly with a skull mask in his journal later that day, that was between himself and God.

The second day Johnny made the mistake of attempting to wake him. He rose, but he was gruff, short tempered, and as the two went for a run together passers by gave them a wide berth, as Simon's glare could curdle milk.

The third day was when Johnny happened upon a stroke of pure genius. He woke Simon as he rose, unintentionally, and earned himself a few choice words that he couldn't discern as they were vehemently growled into a pillow. Johnny brewed his coffee, boiled Simon's tea, retrieved a packet of biscuits from the cabinet, and left it all on the table in the living room. He then returned to his sulking boyfriend, who hadn't yet gone back to sleep.

"Up, c'mon, tea's gonna get cold."

Simon grumbled and rolled to face him, squinting like a displeased cat. Later, a disgruntled black cat with a white face, flicking it's tail would be drawn below the butterfly. Any relation to real world events was purely coincidental.

"I'll carry ya if I have to." Johnny meant it as a tease.

"Like you're gonna carry my heavy ass." Simon rolled his eyes.

Johnny was never one to back down from a challenge, and scooped the larger man up from the bed, holding him bridal style. He didn't even try to keep himself from laughing at Simon's indignant squawk.

He carried him, blanket and all, to the couch and deposited him before his breakfast, which he promptly handed over. He noticed, later, that Simon didn't glare quite so hard at the old birds power walking the opposite way they'd been running that day.

The next day he carried Simon over his shoulder, the next fireman's carry, and the day after Simon wrapped himself around Johnny's front.

His favorite, and it seemed to be Simon's favorite too as he kept positioning himself for it every time after, had been when he'd turned away from the bed to glance out the window, and Simon had risen of his own accord. He draped himself across Johnny's back, wrapping the blanket around them both and nuzzling into Johnny's neck.

John had reached back, one arm up to thread his fingers through Simon's bedhead, and the other down, so that he could pinch Simon's ass, earning him a nip to his carotid.

Laughing, Johnny had slapped gently at Simon's thigh, "Up, I still have to make your tea.

Simon dutifully lifted that leg and then climbed up, arms bracketing Johnny's head, legs secure around his navel, and chin nestled into Johnny's mussed up mohawk. The man fit there perfectly.

From that day on, Johnny carried his overgrown koala of a boyfriend around the flat as he carried out his morning routine of keeping them both caffinated and fed.

Even after returning to base, and hiding Simon and Johnny away behind Ghost and Soap, Ghost would find Soap in the rec room and climb up to wait for his breakfast.

No one dared question the Lieutenant's slight change in behavior, as they enjoyed not having their heads ripped off.

[aduh0308]

stupid fucking parents [choi beomgyu]

kinktober 2024 !! summary: if you'd never met him, this would be a lot easier. granted, if you never met him, this wouldn't be a problem in the first place. genre: smut, non!idol au, p with little to no plot warnings: stepcest,:stepbrother!beomgyu, perv!gyu, rich!gyu, he’s a year older, sub!gyu, mean dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, he uses your soap, mommy kink, mommy kink in a condescending way, praise kink, dacryphilia, voyeurism, degradation, exhibitionism, slight spit kink, big dick gyu, handjob, blowjob, titjob, readers tits are big enough to give said titjob, nipple play (on both), he’s got sensitive nipples, sending nudes, lots of smut, masturbation, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (pull out method), creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of cunnilingus, beomgyu refers to himself as ‘gyu’, reader calls him 'dumb pup', 'slut' 'whore', 'pet', 'good boy’, ‘pretty boy’, ‘gyu’, and ‘pretty’, beomgyu calls reader ‘pretty girl’, ‘baby’, ‘darling’ and ‘good girl’, mentions of anxiety and depression, he’s lowkey sleazy for 100 words (he fucks someone else), she hits him in the face once and he gets turned on by it, she sucks on his Adams apple for half a second (real), y/m/n is your moms name, and b/d/n is beomgyus dads name bc idk what im doing, take a shot every time I use the word ‘fuck’ (hint: its more than 50) word count: 7.3k 🎧 — rubberband (tate mcrae) + lovers in the night (seori) + the killa (txt)

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of Ms. y/l/n and Mr. Choi."...

"Fuck, look at you, fucking me like some animal, aren't you?"

"Do you, y/m/n y/l/n, take b/d/n choi, in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Dumb pup, can only think with your dick, can't you?"

"I do."

"C-can't, feels so good, gon' cum, pl-please!"

"Do you, b/d/n choi, take y/m/n y/l/n,  in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Go ahead, cum like the whore you are..."

"I do."

"Don't make a mess of me, though, can't let everyone out there know i'm fucking my soon-to-be step brother..."

"You may now kiss the bride."

"N-not my fault, fucked you—ah! B-before they even got together..!"

You snap out of your mind's replay of the day’s prior events, eyes on the ground, even as your mom and Beomgyu's dad share their first kiss as husband and wife. You feel eyes on you and look up— it's him, of course it is. And fuck, does he look good. Suit and red tie, brown hair laying just perfectly, you can feel exactly what possessed you to ruin him this morning.

But you can't anymore.

And that's what pisses you off, because Beomgyu was yours before your parents even laid eyes on each other.

That's how they met, actually. You'd been over at his house, dad gone at work, so you two could get up to exactly what you wanted to. Laying on his couch afterwards, his dad had come home, and your mom stopped by to pick you up— she'd dropped you off on her way to work since your car was in the shop.

And it was love at first sight. You couldn't pretend like it wasn't, you saw the way they looked at each other. You just hadn't expected it to escalate to this. Walking back down the aisle together with everyone standing to clap, you can barely keep your eyes on them.

You're crying, but not in happiness. It's selfish, you know. You've seen how happy your mom is nowadays. And she deserves it. But you can't help but feel like you've lost something.

You and Beomgyu are last to leave the altar, following the other groomsmen and bridesmaids into the wedding hall for the afterparty. He tries to grab your arm, but you shake your head at him. You can't do this anymore. It's for real now.

The look on his face is pure hurt and you know it, only heading to sit next to your mother at the dinner table. Soon, you're sucked into conversation with one of her cousins, mind completely off of Beomgyu and your lack of conscience when it comes to him.

After dinner, however, it's time for the first dances of the night. Bride and groom, bride and her father, groom and his mother, and then, your mother's genius idea, a dance for the groom's son and the bride's daughter. Which you'd forgotten all about, until the mc of the night, one of Beomgyu's relatives, calls the both of you up.

You swallow when Beomgyu's hand rests itself on your waist. So gently you almost shiver, he pulls you closer until you're pressed against him in waltzing position. The music is slow, soft, but speeds up until the two of you are just spinning in circles, identical wide grins on your faces.

The song ends with him dipping you, and you come up with an elated grin. That is, until you realize your predicament. You step away from him with a soft smile but a pointed look, and he only nods. He grips your wrist in a hand. Dropping his lips to your ear, he whispers, "Leave early with me? I want to show you around the house."

Right. You'd forgotten that Beomgyu's (significantly larger) house was now yours. God, you have no idea how you’re going to be able to handle this.

You only nod, let him know you'll be ready in an hour, and join the dance floor once more with the rest of your mom's family.

The hour flies by with you teaching multiple line dances to Beomgyu's family, including Cotton Eye Joe and the Wobble, and by the time it's time to leave, you're flushed and breathless. Giggling and taking his hand, you're led to his car.

"Are you wasted?" Beomgyu laughs, helping you in before climbing into the driver's seat.

"No! Didn't drink anything but the kid's lemonade." You flinch when his hand meets your thigh out of habit. Getting the message, he lets it drop to the center console instead.

"Your things are already in your room," he tells you when he pulls into the driveway.

"And where's my room?"

"Across from mine."

You don't have to ask where his room is. You've been in it enough times in the past 3 years to have memorized exactly how many steps it takes to reach it from the front door.

"Alright, sounds good."

Beomgyu opens the front door for you and ushers you in. He opens every door for you to help you find your way around as well. You soon learn that there are 4 bathrooms, 5 bedrooms, a game room, a living room, 2 dining rooms (a formal one and an informal one), a kitchen, and too many closets to count.

When he opens the door to your bedroom, you smile at the coziness of it all. Your things have been put up in an almost identical fashion to how they were in your old room. And there was only one person in this house that knew your room well enough to be able to recreate it to this level of detail.

"Did you do this?" You whisper, turning to him with a look of incredulity.

Beomgyu nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. He flicks the hair out of his face with his pinky, a small habit you've noticed since day one. "Do you like it? I tried my best to do what I remembered, but some things might not be how you're used to..."

"I love it, Gyu, it's perfect." You flop backwards into your new bed, skirt piling around you. Beomgyu slides beside you when you pat the bed—  this might not be the best idea, but right now, you can't think of anything else you’d rather do.

He's taken off his suit jacket, left only in the vest and white shirt and tie, and he looks so good and desirable that you have to close your eyes. He's warm against you, body taut with muscle, and against your better judgment, when Beomgyu's lips meet yours, you don't resist.

He pulls you up and into his room across the hall, dragging you back down with him onto his own bed.

"Gyu, we shouldn't, you're my stepbrother now..." The word leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth, but he shakes his head with a pout.

"Please, need you..." His hands grip the hem of your dress, pulling you closer by your hips, into his lap. You're protesting the whole time, pressing kisses to his lips either way. And oh, the way his whines are so pretty when you slide his dress pants to his ankles make it all worth it.

Tugging at his dick with a scoff, you spit on it once. "What a desperate little slut, wanting to fuck me the night our parents get married, wasn't enough for you this morning, was it?"

Beomgyu shakes his head quickly, tears already beading in his eyes. "N-no, always need more, need you so bad it hurts..."

"Yeah? Gyu needs his dick wet every second of the day, doesn't he? Always such a mess."

He's nothing less than a mess now, drool leaking out the corner of his mouth, wetting the pillow beneath his head. There's a sheen of sweat glossing his face and he writhes beneath you when you squeeze the base of his dick. "P— please, 'm gonna, gon' cum if you don't stop, stop, please, wan' be able to fuck you!" he begs, gripping your wrist in a hand.

"You can't fuck me if you cum now?" He nods, little sniffles leaving his lips. "How pathetic, can't even last a few minutes, what a fucking loser."

"Please, can't— ngh— just wanna get you 'round me, please, n/n..."

His voice is low, breathless and a little choked, and you finally give in. Beomgyu's chest shakes up and down while he watches you slip your dress over your head, exposing the blue lace bra you'd put on this morning. You don't even bother taking it off, nor your underwear, simply sliding your panties to the side to rub his dick against your soaked cunt.

As soon as your dripping walls suck him in, he's a goner, head rocked back into the pillows and hips twitching up to yours pitifully. Shifting your weight down against him only once, he's got tears running down his cheeks. This isn't unusual— there's a reason you always top him. As soon as the boy gets his dick wet, he's gone, off to another planet or some shit.

"Won't you open your eyes, want you to look at me while your dick's inside me, you're not that much of a whore that you can't keep your eyes open, are you?" you hiss, grabbing his chin in your hand.

Beomgyu nods with a weak look, eyes trained on your tits, and he's pulling the lace down with his fingertips. You grip his chin harder, looking down at him with a glare. "Don't you dare, take it off properly if you want it off. This was 60 dollars, I'm not letting a dumb pup like you ruin it."

His fingers fumble at your back, desperate to see you but unsure of where the hook is. A low moan leaves his lips when he finally gets it off, taking your tit in his mouth almost immediately. Swirling his tongue around it, you grab a fistful of his hair, shoving your hips towards his again.

You're lucky that he's big, big enough to hit all the right spots inside you without you having to do much, because the look on his face tells you that he's not capable of anything other than sucking on your breast. And despite all your words, you're not very capable of anything other than fucking yourself down against him.

Beomgyu's eyes are practically rolled back into his head when you look down at him again. The sight is funny, even if it causes something to twist in your stomach. The way this pretty boy can't even make the proper faces once his dick's in your cunt.

“You’re so fucking disgusting, don’t you now? Fucking me when you’re like this?” you hiss, gripping his hair in your hands.

 “’m sorry, 'm so sorry, i know, know 's gross but I can’t!”

His eyes fly open to meet yours in a panic when your fingertips pinch at the pink of his nipple. "D-don't, m-mommy, gon—gonna cum, y'know I can't take it, t' sensitive, please..."

You do know. And that alone is why you toy with him more, rubbing over the puffy bud while he squirms under you. "Don't you dare cum inside me, you hear? Don't want a dirty pup's cum inside me."

He nods frantically, eyes red and glazed with his tears, and he weakly tugs his dick from your cunt. You wrap your hand around yours to jerk him off until he reaches his peak, white cum painting your stomach in ropes.

"N-no, don't, what are you doing, c-can't!" Beomgyu lets out a choked noise when you roll your hips back towards his.

"Shut up, you can, gotta make me cum too, remember? Cause you're such a good boy, aren't you?" He nods fast, and you lower your torso to his to press a consoling kiss to his lips. They're bitten red, swollen from the constant tug of his teeth, and the familiar desperation he retaliates with makes you smile. Pulling back once more, you watch his hips twitch up to yours. "See? Told you you're a good boy, making me feel so good..."

"S' glad, let me touch, please?" He's slurring his words now, hand running through the soft brown of his hair.

"Go ahead, jus' this once, cause you're being so good..."

Beomgyu's eyes light up immediately, and his hand flies to your swollen clit without hesitation. Rubbing in circles, you have to admit, he's always been good at this. Even though he's sloppy with his movements, direct stimulation making you hiss through your teeth, he's still expert in the way he plays with your clit.

"Fuck, Gyu, gon' make me cum if you keep up with that, don't stop, will you?"

He nods, though you can tell the way your walls flutter around his dick is making his brain go fuzzy. "Can make you, 'm a good boy, gon' make you feel s' good.."

His hips grind up against yours with one particularly rough motion, and you're gone, form shaking above his.

"Doing so good, mommy, so pretty..." Beomgyu coos, spare hand resting on your cheek.

You roll onto your back next to him, chest heaving, and a wave of guilt hits you when you realize just what you've done. You fucked your stepbrother. On the day of your parents' wedding.

You sit abruptly and gather your things. "Goodnight, Gyu."

He pouts at you, dick pressed flush to his stomach, and you have to avoid looking at him. "Stay? Please?"

"No. I'm going to my room. Goodnight, Beomgyu."

And without a backwards glance, you step through the threshold of his doorway and promise you'll never be back in to answer his request.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

And you weren’t even considering it, not even thinking about it until weeks later, when your parents decided to watch a family movie before they leave on their honeymoon.

Your parents on the couch across from you, Beomgyu sits next to you on the “loveseat” in your living room. You’d never heard of such a thing as a loveseat until you moved into the Choi house– it must be a rich person thing. But the chair was just big enough for two people, sitting side by side, to have about four inches of room between them.

Not exactly the situation you want to put yourself in. 

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it only gets worse when he tugs a blanket over the two of you and hooks one of his legs around yours.  He’s in basketball shorts, and the feeling of his skin on yours is not something you want to be feeling right now. Shooting a warning look his way before scooting as close to the armrest as you can, you try your hardest to tamp down all the memories of things you’ve done with him.

But it’s hard when he slides closer to you again, side pressed flush to yours. 

“You’re all up on me, pet, I swear to god…” you whisper. 

This was the only nickname you’d kept up with since you cut him off. Your parents were innocent enough to think that it was a cute thing– your mom had even commented on it, “You calling him pet is so cute, I’m glad the two of you are still getting along when you’re living together.”

But Beomgyu knew that it wasn’t.

His breath catches in his throat the moment the name slips from your lips, and his hand grips yours under the sheets. “I’m cold, warm me up, please?”

You relent with a sigh. A small smile twitches the corners of your lips when he nuzzles against your body, and your focus finally turns back to the movie. 

It was one of your mom’s favorites, one from the year you were born called “A Walk to Remember.” It was a sad movie– you knew the whole time the girl was going to die eventually, which made it hard to enjoy the film itself.

Good thing it was sad, though, when Beomgyu coaxes your hand down the waistband of his pants. Because he’s panting, sniffling in your ear while your fist slides up and down his dick, and his father comments on how funny it was that Beomgyu’s crying so badly at this movie.

You only laugh, looking at Beomgyu with a twinkle in your eyes. “Had no idea you were so sensitive, Gyu.” His eyes are tear-filled when he looks up at you, a little squeak leaving his lips when you thumb over his tip.

“N-not my fault, she’s gonna die, it’s sad!”

Good lord, you could praise this boys acting skills right now. Beomgyu’s trembling against you, tears slipping down his cheeks so shamelessly. Your mom tosses you a box of tissues. You catch it and take two— one for his tears, and one to wipe up the cum that’s streaking his tummy in white.

You tuck the second tissue under the blanket to clean him up while Beomgyu catches his breath. His chest is heaving, up and down, and when your palm accidentally grazes his already re-hardening dick, he sucks in a breath so sharp he starts coughing.

“I—I’m okay, I swear,” he chokes out, and you rub his back, trying your hardest not to laugh. 

“You know,” your mom says when the movie finishes, all four of you in tears. “I’m really glad we can have moments like this, as a family, even though the two of you are all grown up.”

You manage a weak smile at her. You agree with everything in that sentence— except the family part. You go to say something, but a warm hand on your thigh turns your attention once more to the brown-haired boy beside you.

“Wanna come play with me?” He asks, lips pulled into a pout. If he were asking this a month ago, you would’ve agreed, no hesitation. You know exactly what his idea of “playing” entails. 

But now, in your current situation, you shake your head. “I’ve got homework to do for my class on Monday. Maybe next time.”

You leave the room in a silent stupor, mulling over the thoughts in your head. God, you’re so stupid. How could you fall for him like that again? You promised yourself to leave him alone, and look, here you are, all self-respect gone the moment his body touched yours. 

You need to distance yourself from him again. You can’t fucking do this, any and every choice you make regarding him is going to hurt both of you, and your parents. 

So you vow to yourself that you’ll never have to be in a situation like that with him again. Because you can only assume, with your parents leaving for two weeks, that Beomgyu’s going to pull something like this again.

By then, you hope you’re able to say no.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Once your parents leave, you find ways to keep yourself busy all day long, only coming home once you know Beomgyu is asleep in bed. You can’t risk being in the vicinity of him— you don’t have enough self control for that, and you know it.

But your friends cancel plans the morning of your sixth day home alone, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Beomgyu’s in the kitchen making coffee when you wake up. He’s in a pair of grey sweats and a regular black t-shirt, but the simple pairing sets off the glow of his honey-gold skin and you have to take a moment to catch your breath,

“Good morning,” you say, opening the fridge to grab a quick snack. 

“Morning,” he hums in response, not turning to look at you.

If he had, he would’ve noticed the way your jaw fell slack, cheeks going hot purely at the sound of his voice. At least half an octave deeper than his regular speaking tone, his morning voice had your stomach twisting the way it used to when he touched you.

“Coffee?” Beomgyu asks, finally looking your way. You can see him mentally making note of your state— hair a little disheveled, long shirt hanging to your mid-thigh, tiny shorts not even peeking past the hem.

“Sure,” you manage, taking a bite of the protein bar you found in the fridge. It’s cold, and you almost break a tooth on it, but it’s better than nothing.

Beomgyu grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet, pouring in just the right ratio of cream, sugar, and coffee. You take it, fearing you’re unable to hide your surprise. He catches your eye and a small smile peeks through the otherwise stony expression on his face. “You think I’d forget how you take your coffee after three years?”

You sip your drink to hide your smile. “Of course not.”

Over the scent of your coffee, you catch another, familiar smell. Not the smell of Beomgyu— that you remember all too well. But the smell of your body wash, coming from the boy right next to you. 

“Did you use my soap?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. You watch Beomgyu’s body language closely; he’s turning back away from you, shoulders hunched, fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger.

“N— Yeah, I did, mine was out..” He mumbles, running his hand through his hair.

“Oh.”

That’s not the truth, you can tell, but you don’t push, and Beomgyu quickly changes the subject. “I’m having someone over later, just so you know. If you’re here.”

“My friends ditched me, so I’ll be here.” You smile wryly. “Thanks for the head’s up.”

“Of course.”

The two of you stand there in awkward silence for a moment. The only noise comes from the sipping of your coffee, and the slight hum of the air conditioner pumping out cold air.

“I… I’ll be in my room.” You say. Beomgyu nods, looking down at his phone as if he couldn’t care less.

Chewing your lip while you walk back to your bedroom, you flop on your bed. Why would he lie to you about using your soap? It’s not like you’d be mad at all. It’s entirely fine, you’ve used his soap before. Of course, that was for completely different reasons… 

Wait.

That couldn’t be it at all. He’s not that perverted, is he? To use your soap to jerk off? It’d certainly explain his behavior…

You take a deep breath to clear your thoughts. No, you are not going to think about Beomgyu jerking off with your soap. But the mental image won’t leave you, and before you can even realize what you’re doing, you’re sliding your shorts off your hips and slipping your middle finger between your folds. It brushes your clit— oh, fuck, you haven’t done this in weeks, not since the wedding, and your poor, desperate clit can barely even handle the slight stimulation from your fingertip. 

Your knees knock together the second the middle finger of your non-dominant hand presses against your awaiting hole, slick already spreading through the thin material of the underwear you’re wearing. The pressure in your abdomen never ceases when you nestle your middle and ring finger entirely between your fluttering walls.

“F—fuck,” you breathe, rolling your hips towards your fingers. Images of Beomgyu are running through your mind with every circle of your finger around your clit— Beomgyu between your legs, tongue on your clit, fuck, he always loved that… Beomgyu with his dick pressed flush to his tummy, whining and pleading for you to touch him, tip leaking precum and making him all a mess…

You’re cumming in seconds at the memory of how he’d whimper under your touch, his pretty brown eyes swimming with tears. Mouth dropped open in silent pleas, you chase your high until your body aches for a break. You rest against the cold of your bedsheets to catch your breath. 

Settling down with a book, you forget almost entirely what Beomgyu’d said about bringing someone over, until it was almost 4 in the afternoon.

Downstairs, the front door opens. Voices from the living room travel perfectly up to your awaiting ears, and you find yourself pressing your lips together in frustration. Beomgyu didn’t mention that the person he was bringing over was a girl.

“Is anyone home?” You can hear her ask, a sickeningly sweet smile lacing her question.

“Just my stepsister.”

And just like that, you’re reduced to nothing but a single word. His stepsister. Like you weren’t his sole reason for existence for the past three years. Who did he go to when he was spiraling at night, who did he call up at four in the morning because he knew she’d always answer? That was you. Not whoever this other girl was.

“Oh, good. She won’t mind, will she?”

“Of course not. Especially if you can stay quiet.”

You can practically hear the wink in his voice, and it makes your skin crawl. Is he gonna have sex with her? He wouldn’t dare, not with you in the house.

Right?

“We’ll have to see how good you are, then..~”

“Trust me, baby, I’ll show you a good time.”

You shove your earbuds in your ear and blast the most hype music you can, 2010s dance-pop type beats, trying your hardest to drown out anything else that comes from their lips. You can still hear the door to the room across from you slam shut—can still hear the girls forced pornographic moans. Where the hell did he even find this girl?

After an hour and a half, you’re convinced she must be gone, and you pad down carpeted stairs to make yourself a sandwich. Just in case, music is still playing as loud as possible through your earbuds.

As you slice your sandwich in half, ready to go back to the safety of your room, Beomgyu’s door opens a crack and a lithe figure slips from it. You have to assume it’s the girl you heard before— she’s about your height, wearing a crop top, short shorts, and she’s got mascara running down her cheeks. Damn. He must’ve managed to do her good, then. How come he never pulled that out with you?

She catches sight of you. “Oh, you must be the stepsister?”

You nod, and she smiles, running a hand through her hair. “I hope we weren’t too loud. I’d hate to disturb you.”

“No, no.” You’re quick to assure her that everything is alright. “I’ve had music playing the whole time.”

“Okay, good. Well, I’ll be off now. It’s nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you too!” You call after her retreating form. With a huff, you settle down on your mattress once more, taking a bite of your sandwich.

There’s a knock at your door. “Yes?”

Beomgyu pokes his head in. “Wanna play?”

Your mouth falls open at his pure audacity to come in here and ask you that after fucking another girl. “No, I do not.”

“Why not?” There he goes with that fucking pout again, the one he knows gets you to snap.

“Why not? Because you just fucked someone else, and I don’t feel like fucking someone’s sloppy seconds. Plus, I’d probably get an STD of some sort from you.”

“Please?”

He’s sitting at the edge of your bed by now, and you reach to grab his chin. “I said no, pet.”

“See, you’re saying no, but you’re acting all fem-dom and calling me pet, which makes me think that you really do want to fuck me.” Beomgyu gives you a singular shit-eating grin, and you slap him in the face. Hard.

“You’re such a whore, Beomgyu, god! Why the hell do you think I’d want to fuck you?? You already got your dick wet once today, is that not enough for you?”

He rubs his cheek with a shocked, wide-eyed expression. Your gaze drops to his crotch— there’s a very obvious tent there, and you raise your eyebrows in disgust. “You’re getting turned on by this?! You’re fucking disgusting!” You exclaim. “Get out!”

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath, slinking out of your door and back into his bedroom.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Over the course of the next week, you don’t see Beomgyu out of his room once. You can hear him, though. Good lord, can you hear him. This house makes you finally realize what “thin walls” actually means— and every night, you can hear perfectly how he’s whining, whimpering as he gets himself off, gasps of your name the only semi-intelligible sounds that leave his lips.

The past two days, he’s even resorted to leaving his door open all day long. Best be sure you’ve seen him changing one too many times, and you’ve made sure to be quiet playing with yourself after.

Scrolling on your phone mindlessly, three texts come through simultaneously. Two from you and your friends’ group chat, and one from Beomgyu. The latter is an image, which is already suspicious in itself, but, against your better judgment, you find yourself opening it. A small noise of surprise leaves your parted lips when you do.

The image is blurry, but you can make out the subject easily— Beomgyu, laying back in bed, face-fucked, drool leaking down his chin, all while he holds his dick in one limp hand.

You you’re such a pervert

Gyu <3

don’t yiu lije ir?

You

are you seriously jerking off right now?

Gyu <3

Sent a video

You

it was a simple yes or no question you didn’t have to send a video to answer

Gyu <3

aswers yws mpmmy

cime plsy pls?

You

if you can’t even type out a simple message how am I supposed to believe you’ll fuck me good?

Gyu <3

plsplspls neesd yoi sp bsd :()((

You

fine. just this once.

You both knew you were lying.

You peek through the crack in his door, and lord, he’s a sight to behold. Pretty throat on full display with his head rocked back, he’s sliding his hand up and down his dick, small whimpers leaving his lips.

“Knock knock,” you whisper, breathless.

Beomgyu’s glossy eyes light up when he sees you in the doorway. “Come in, please mommy?”

“Does my pretty boy need help?” You coo, easily slipping into your old dynamic. It’s familiar, comfortable, so much so that you can almost entirely ignore the guilt pooling in your stomach. 

“Please, hurts so bad,” he whimpers, and when you finally take a moment to look at him fully, you believe it.

His dick looks painfully hard, tip red and leaking precum all over the soft skin of his tummy. “I bet… awh, pup, why didn’t you call me in sooner?”

Lips pulled in a pout, he says, “You got s’ mad last time, didn’t want you to say no.”

“Wouldn’t, not when you’re like this…” You wrap a gentle hand around his dick, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re extra sensitive today, aren’t you, pretty?” 

He nods quickly. “Been like this all day, ‘m so sorry…”

You settle between his legs with a smile. Nosing along the inside of his thigh, you look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Did you use my soap again?”

Beomgyu’s cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. “Tha’s what got me like this in the first place, only wanted to jerk off smelling like you, but then I couldn’t forget how you feel ‘gainst me, so pretty and soft…” His eyes shut when you slowly run your hand up the length of him.

“Don’t worry, mommy’s got you now, gon’ take such good care of you..~”

His sheets are soft, cool to the touch, and soon there’s a wet spot on them from the way your saliva slides down his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him as you welcome the familiar taste— this isn’t anything you haven’t done before together. Your nose rests against his pelvis and Beomgyu squirms under your touch. His knuckles are white from gripping the blanket. It’s almost cute, the way he’s such a mess already, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a dog. 

His hips twitch up to your mouth and you gag on him once, pressing them back down to the mattress. “Don’t move, pretty, let me make you feel good.”

Beomgyu nods again, almost frantically, looking down at you with a wide-eyed look that makes you throb. “F-feels s’ good, mommy, not gonna be able to last, I-I’m sorry…”

You only hum around the girth of him, reaching up to pull at his nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. “Wait, mommy, w-wanna, fuck, wanna cum on your tits, please?”

“I’ve got a better idea…” Shifting so your face is almost parallel to his chest, you hike your shirt up and press your tits together around the base of his dick. A single choked sound falls from his lips and he fucks up towards your tits with a desperation he’s never fucked your cunt with in all your years together. You lick over his tip every time it peeks through your tits, and soon, he’s got tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Mommy, so close, please let me, wan’ cum, please please please!” His hand flies to your hair, gripping it so hard your scalp twinges.

“Go ahead, pup, you deserve it…”

The pretty boy underneath you lets out a pathetic whine, and rope after rope of warm cum paints your tits in white. Beomgyu pants underneath your touch— you stroke his cheek consolingly, pressing kisses up the line of his neck. You can feel his heart beat running faster and faster when you lick up his Adam’s apple, sucking a purpling hickey onto it.

“You alright, pet?” You hum, and he only nods again.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Gyu?”

“Can I try topping you?”

His tone is sincere and you could curse yourself for the noise of surprise that slips past the restraint of your lips. Beomgyu looks away, tears filling his waterline again. “Nevermind, ’s stupid, just thought I’d ask, been thinking about it…”

“No, no, Gyu, of course you can, I was just surprised.. We’ve never, you know? Not once in all the years… But yes, go ahead, fuck, at least try.” You rush to reassure him, and his eyes go wide.

“Fuck, are you being serious?” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up, and you sit back on your heels.

“Yes, I’m being serious if you are.”

“Okay, fuck, alright, I didn’t expect you to say yes…” He seems unsure of what to do with himself, and you slide up the bed until your head is against the headboard, then tug him onto you by his wrist.

“C’mon, pretty, don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out?” You smile, and his eyes fill with an emotion you’ve never seen before in him.

Beomgyu kisses you so hard that it catches you off guard, and you smile when his tongue meets yours. He’s doing well so far, actually.

He pushes your thighs apart, yanking your shorts and panties down and off, slotting himself between your legs to rub three fingers against your clit. An embarrassing mewl of a noise leaves you the moment he makes contact with your swollen bud. You can’t pretend you don’t notice the cocky smirk that stretches itself over his features. “Pretty girl’s already whining for me, what happened, mommy?”

Two long, slender fingers slip to rest between your gummy walls, and Beomgyu’s eyes blow out wide. “Fuck, you’re soaked, you’re not usually like this, are you?”

You shake your head, unable to speak when he curls his fingers in towards your stomach at a pace so fast it sends goosebumps up and down your body. “N-no, you know that, don’t know why it’s different…”

He bites his lip in a smile, fingers jackhammering into you. His free hand pushes your thighs back apart when your knees jolt together. “Don’t tell me you’re into this, are you, baby?”

“Fuck, shut up, Gyu, will you please fuck me?”

“Not with that attitude, baby, not gonna fuck ungrateful brats.”

That makes you shut your mouth. Beomgyu grins down at you again, and the look on his face makes you want to smack him. But you stay quiet, until his other hand finds your clit and you’re cumming around him with a squeak. Beomgyu pulls his fingers out of you with a smug smile, licking them clean, then kisses you again, hiking your shirt up and over your cum-stained tits. 

“Clothes off, darling,” he coos in your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

You slip the shirt off the rest of the way, and Beomgyu narrows his eyes, tongue between his teeth as he looks you up and down. “Fuck, you’re so pretty…”

“Gyu…” you whisper, and his gaze rests on yours. “Please?”

“You’re asking so nicely… might as well, think I can cum inside this time?”

“If you can actually top me without turning into a mess the second you get your dick inside, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” 

And you mean it. It’s not like you haven’t thought about him as a dom— the thought’s ran through your head almost every day since the first time you fucked him. It just hadn’t occurred to you that it was possible for him. He’s consistently a, for lack of a better word, pathetic sub, whining and panting the moment you touch him. Even if he’d decided to be extra bratty, he’d still lose it all the minute your skin is on his.

So this new change is definitely not unwelcome.

“Sounds good, mommy.”

Tip pressed to your dripping cunt, he rocks his hips forward til he’s all the way inside you. You sigh in relief, fitted perfectly. Beomgyu’s always fits inside you like a missing puzzle piece, like he was made to stay here, between your legs.

“Feel so good ‘round me, baby, always taking me so good… I’ve fucked this pretty pussy into being shaped just for me, haven’t I?” He rests his forehead against yours, pressing a light kiss to your lips before pulling back to rut his pelvis towards your thighs.

Every drag of his cock along your walls sends ecstasy rolling up your limbs. Fuck, thank god he’s good with his hips. The fact that he’s managing more than the measly twitches of his hips you’re used to is impressive in itself, but he’s even better than that, and the pure pleasure settling in your lower stomach is enough to have fresh tears sliding off your cheeks and onto his pillowcase.

“Gyu, fuck, need more, f— oh fuck— faster, please?” You mumble, left hand clutching his forearm, while your right hand wound itself through the silky strands of his hair. Your thumb brushes over the slight stubble of his cheek, and he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He pushes his hair back and out of his face, and the simple sight of his forehead on display has your stomach twisting deliciously. Pace turning from quarter notes to eighth notes, your body jolts in reaction, and you swallow thickly. He looks so good above you— pretty chocolate brown hair swept out of his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your gaze drops to the smooth bare of his torso. He wasn’t “buff” by any means, but your eyes settle on lines of muscle under his skin that definitely weren’t there a month and a half ago.

“Pet, have you been working out?” Your words are embarrassingly choked. Beomgyu gives you another shit-eating grin.

“I have, do you like it?” Despite the mocking tone in his voice, there’s an underlying note of something else, like he’s waiting for you to say yes.

So you do, because it’s the answer, and the look of pure joy on his face makes it all worth it. “Like it s’ much, Gyu, look so pretty…”

“Not as pretty as you, mommy, look at you, all a mess underneath me an’ I swear you’ve never looked better..~”

Your walls fluttering around the girth of him betrays your straight face, and Beomgyu presses a kiss to your parted lips. “Like when I tell you that, mommy? Like when Gyu says you look so perfect under him, all fucked out on his dick, hm?”

You nod frantically, and he nods back at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Mean every word of it, pretty girl looks like a fucking angel with my dick inside her…”

You tighten desperately around him with a whine, gripping at the hands he’s got on your waist to pull you closer to him. “Gyu, fuck, gonna c-cum, t’ good, please, wanna..!”

“Go ‘head, baby, cum all over my cock, love the way you feel ‘round me..~”

You can feel him quivering above you when you clamp down on him, orgasm hitting you like a fucking truck, and Beomgyu kisses away the tears on your cheeks. “There we go, there’s my good girl… C-can I cum too, please?”

“Go ahead, Gyu, you’ve done so good, made mommy feel so good, oh fuck!” 

He’s fucking into you with a new desperation to reach his high, completely disregarding the fact that you’ve only just came, and the overstimulation makes your grip tighten on his arm. “Gyu, calm down, fuck, hurts, can’t— can’t take it, Gyu!”

Beomgyu shakes his head, panting in your ear, body trembling against yours. “Can take it, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Gotta get me off now, ’s my turn.”

Fuck, how the tables have turned. A complete 180 from the night of the wedding, and he’s coaxing you to take him despite the way your body begs for a break. The sound of his hips meeting yours over and over again is prominent over the short moans that every one of his movements pulls from your lips.

“Oh, oh fuck, fuck, taking me so good, thank you, thank you, fuck!” Voice breathless, he pins your hips to his, milking himself inside you.

Oh shit. It’s not like you’ve never had the boy cum inside you— it’s happened once or twice, on accident, and you best believe you both freaked the fuck out afterwards— but this time, it’s different. He’s holding your body to his, both of you shaking, and the way you can feel his warm cum in your womb is making you weak.

Beomgyu stays like that for a moment, arms around you, yours around him, dick nestled between your walls. He’s so fucking warm against you, pants painting your skin. The intimacy of it all is almost enough to have you running out of the room immediately, but something in the tone of his voice convinces you to stay. 

When he finally pulls out, his cum drips from your cunt and onto his sheets, but you can tell Beomgyu couldn’t care less. His eyes are transfixed on the white of his cum on your thighs, the way it seems like his seed could be leaking from you forever.

Finally, he gets up to find a washcloth to clean you up, and does so with such tenderness that your heart twinges.

“Gyu, we have to talk…” you mumble against his hair.

Laying in his bed, the both of you are dressed only in the bare minimum, Beomgyu’s face resting on your chest, and every once in a while you can feel him sucking a purpling mark onto the flesh of your breasts.

He shakes his head in response to your suggestion. “No, we don’t.”

“We do, we can’t keep doing thi—“

His finger on your lips cuts you off. “Shush, you’re ruining pillow talk. This is not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Listen to me, Beomgyu! I can’t do this, fucking you isn’t gonna do anything but hurt everyone around us. Don’t you understand?”

He’s got the same pout on his face and you know you won’t be able to argue with whatever he’s going to say, that look gets you every fucking time. 

Before he can answer, however, the front door bangs open and two voices, one male, one female, call out, “We’re home! Where are the two of you?”

You’re cursing your parents for ruining your important talk, but Beomgyu’s thanking them as the two of you frantically pull your clothes on. 

Conversation postponed. ;)

[biteyoubiteme]

bubble gum flavored

Beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: you're a camgirl and beomgyu is your favorite fan.

warnings: 🔞!!! mentions of masturbation (m! and f!), sex toys, mentions of cum eating, panty sniffing, fingering, oral (f!rec), nipple play, overstim (m! and f! rec), marking, use of teeth, unprotected sex, creampie, reader calls gyu by username beomiebear, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 6k

an: my weakness is camgirl/camboy fics and I already want to write a part two. take a shot every time I use the three c’s cum clit cock feedback appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is a part of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics! [dumdums m.list]

beomgyu remembers when he found your stream for the first time. The cam website had you listed in the newcummer ranks, only a few watchers sitting in the chat when he clicked on. he usually kept to the top camgirls in the list, getting off once and then heading to bed, but he had misclicked when logging on ending up right where he needed to be all along.

The little window previewing your stream showed your pink backdrop, a million pink pillows laid out on the ground where you leaned back. He shrugged, opening your stream to see you with a wand pressed to your clothed clit, legs lifted to your chest, your back arching as you came, the strappy blue bikini straining against your tits like it would pop off at any second. It was over for him the second he heard your breathy whines, thighs shaking as you overstimulated yourself, knees pulling in before you gave a shout pulling the vibrator away. The swimsuit bottoms are completely soaked through sticking and outlining your cunt. 

Even without the wand you were trembling, head thrown back as you tried to catch your breath. And for the first time ever gyu commented in the chat dropping a donation with a single word. 

beomiebear: again.

The ding of the request was the only sound in your room, drawing you to look right at the screen for the first time. If he hadn't been gone by the sound of your pretty noises he was with your pretty face. 

“okay ill go again,” you hooked your arms under your knees, and before pressing back down on your clit you muttered, “This one's for you beomiebear,” 

beomgyu stayed up until your stream was over, cock raw from how long he had been fucking his hand, stomach covered in streams of his cum from how often he finished to the sight of you. he bookmarked your page, paid to be an exclusive member and waited for a notification that you were on live. 

The first month of following you he got used to your schedule on Wednesday, and Friday nights he would be at his desk filling your chat with requests, commenting on your beauty, dropping donations like candy leading you through the forest of your other commenters to praise him and him alone. Every stream he joined got him more and more recognition from you. A sweet, “hi beomiebear,” drawn out and giddy, your little wave and smile just for him. Other exclusive members in the chat didn’t get that voice, no, it was reserved for beomgyu and beomgyu alone. Even as you grew higher in the ranks and more people started joining your little army you always greeted beomiebear. He was the longest standing member in chat, donated the most, requested things he could tell you liked just by the way you sounded. 

When you listed a wishlist for items to be sent to you, if the gift was from beomiebear you didn’t just mention the one time you wore it but every time after, “You remember this one don’t you? It was a gift from beomiebear,” your fingers snapping the waistband of the pink thong you wore, “beomie says he loves me in pink, do you guys agree?” 

Your streams were everything to him, even if he was on a trip or out late when you started a stream he was in the bathroom of a bar jerking off like it was the first time he ever saw you, he's trying to stifle his moans in hotel rooms, cumming hard with your name on his lips. he was there for your streams when you just got ready, always in your tiny little tank top nipples peddled, treating the camera like a facetime call. Asking the chat what you should wear, holding up options. His favorite part is always at the end when you put on your lipstick and then go on to fix up your hair, spinning in your outfit asking if you looked pretty. He never missed an opportunity to shower you with love. 

And when you did an event for reaching your goal sub count you promised the highest donator a fleshlight, two used pairs of panties, and a personal video of you cumming in one of them. beomgyu was the winner by a landslide. “and who would have guessed that beomiebear was the winner? I'm not surprised my beomiebear is obsessed with me,” it was the same time that you set up personal chat offers for long-time members and no one had been watching as long as gyu had. 

you: Do you want me to use your real name in my video for you?

But gyu loved that you called him by his screen name, anyone else he had ever had sex with only called him beomgyu and you were so much more than just casual even if you had never met in person. 

beomiebear: No, I like it when you call me beomiebear or even just beomie or bear. 

Once beomgyu got his video he watched it on the days you didn’t stream, playing it over and over until he had each word memorized. 

“I picked these out just for you,” your hands running over the bubble gum pink panties you wore, “you’re going to have to tell me if you like them. and then these,” you held up that strappy blue swimsuit, “I know I said two panties but these were from the first stream you joined, so that means I wore them the first time you made me cum,” 

just the fact you remembered made him hard. and when you pulled out the fleshlight you got him, unboxing it to show it off, “now it's not wet unlike how I am right now but I'm sure you'll get it wet enough,” your fingers running over the silicone, slipping your middle and ring finger in the hole before taking them out and putting them into your mouth, “I wish I could lick this clean after you had used it,” you pout, “I know you must taste so good,” you kissed over the puffy lips before asking, “you’ll think of me when you use it right?” 

You had him wrapped so tight about your little finger that he was nodding and answering to a screen knowing damn well you couldn't hear him.

When his package came in he was shaking with need, straining in his jeans ripping open the box, groaning over the smell of you. You didn’t only send the things promised, you tossed in an extra pair of panties, sprayed with your perfume, and a little bear and lollipop phone charm. A note card handwritten for him saying ‘for my beomiebear, don’t forget to give your new toy clitty kisses before fucking it and filling it up while thinking of me <33’ and did he listen, kissing over where he knew your lips had been before sending it, fucking it until he was so drained he was amazed at how much cum could leave his body. Your panties pressed to his nose, phone charm hanging from his case. 

You were right about him being obsessed with you and neither of you would have it any other way. and you were no different. Seeing beomiebear's name in the chat or donating would never stop you from smiling. He was one of the first people to support you on live, calling out bad behavior in chat, and calling you the prettiest names. When beomie was active you were putting on your best show. You felt the prettiest when beomiebear was watching and commenting. You picked out outfits you knew beomie would like and couldn't help but think about how he must look behind his keyboard at home.

You've never seen beomie but that didn’t mean that you weren't obsessed with the idea of him just like he was obsessed with the idea of you. Sometimes after a stream when beomie would go to your private chat complimenting you and saying goodnight you were laid out in bed giggling and kicking your feet, blushing and smiling acting as if you've never had a boyfriend before in your life. No man had ever made you this giddy in real life and no one else from your streams compared. 

You remember finding the little phone charm when you were on vacation smiling like a madman just thinking about beomiebear so you bought it. You wouldn't be able to forget the cute little bear or the lolly pop, beomiebear, and his bubblegum princess in pink. Always wondered if he had put it to use or if it was sitting in his nightstand with your panties. 

Tonight you set up your stream for a get ready with me, fingers rolling over your nipples to get them hard, “Hi! Tonight is just going to be a short stream, it feels like forever since I've been on but it's been only one day,” your eyes scan over chat, welcoming the users who tip or the ones you've seen before. These streams never did as well as the ones with you masturbating but they did bring in long-term tippers, the ones who requested private texts and videos often. “I'm going out tonight so I need help to make sure I look good, do you think you could help me decide on a few things?” 

Your setup is in your spare room, the one space that made you sign for your apartment as soon as you saw it. Your backdrop is set up right along the back wall, a bed set up lengthwise along the wall with all your pillows to lay down at the perfect angle for your camera. Your vanity is usually behind the camera, only used when you do streams like these, the lights setting the mood. The small closet attached to the room held anything you wore for streams, all your toys and props organized under where everything hung. Tonight you were going out with friends for drinks for a rare night out with friends. You spend most of the time commuting to class and home, and with both your cam schedule and your school schedule you didn’t go out much. And none of your friends knew your little secret and you would keep it like that as long as you possibly could. 

You held up the two options you had picked out for tonight, “maybe I should try them both on for you?” 

It then that beomies name pops up in chat and your smile brightens, “Hi beomiebear! Which one should I try first?” you were going for an angel or devil theme with the white set and the black set in hand, both of them nearly identical to each other.

beomiebear: Don’t we get to see the lingerie first?

“I didn’t even think of that beomie you’re so right. I would need your help to pick out the perfect panties for these, hmm let me see what I have,” you dig through your collection, pulling out a few options for them to pick between. “Here I have pink,” you hold them up one at a time, “white, red, and black. If I wear the white skirt I don’t know if I'll be able to wear the red but why don’t we see?” 

Your top half was mostly in frame as you changed your panties but stepping closer to the bed you could see more of your body in the viewfinder. Picking up the white skirt to pull it on, purposefully tugging it up higher. “see what I mean everyone would be able to see, especially if I bend over,” you demonstrate leaning over the bed and looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips. 

beomgyu is sitting in his apartment biting his lip trying to decide if he should touch himself when he has to be ready in an hour to leave for drinks with his friends. Debating if the clean up is worth it but knowing that if he doesn't get off at least once he will be fighting a boner for a while. He watches as you pick up the next pair of panties to try, you’re standing in front of the camera tugging your skirt down enough so that when you take off the red pair the camera doesn't pick it up, but as you tug on the white lace and bend back over the bed he gives up on resisting. The material is just sheer enough to show the outline of your cunt and as you sway your hips asking if these are better the fabric slips along your lips. there is no way he is not touching himself now. “oops,” you giggle fixing the lace so that it sits right again, “maybe not these, don’t want anyone else seeing what is only meant for my angels,” 

you stand back up, “You know what I think the black skirt is better,” you slide the white skirt off leaving you back in your tiny cropped tank and lace panties before sliding up the black skirt, “okay but now the white is too showy,” you bend again, “what should I pick next the black or the pink?” gyu is fast to respond, “okay beomie says pink so I think we have to try that one next,” and gyu doesn't know what happens to him when he sees you wear pink only that he's whimpering with his hand down his sweats picking up his pace as he squeezes his cock. When you bend doing your little wiggle he knows he's the one who sent these to you from your wishlist, that alone makes him cum. His head falls back against the headboard, not caring about the mess anymore when you’re there taking your top off, pushing down on your boobs with your arm to hide giggling about not wanting to wear a bra tonight. Your bare back to the camera as you pull on your new top. 

By the end of your stream, he was cutting it close to making it out on time to meet up with everyone. But when he got to the bar they had saved him a seat at their booth half taken up with his friends and half taken up with yours. 

You were half squished between your friend and soobin, feeling claustrophobic amongst the group. soobin and you have an econ class together along with another friend at the table. He had invited the two of you out a couple of times but it was always on a Friday and you always made the most of Friday nights. But he had asked to celebrate the end of the semester pointing out everyone else was going so you agreed wanting to finally get out even if it was only the one time. So far all of his friends were nice, picking up conversation easily and adding everyone in like they had been besties for years. gyu didn’t even realize it was you at the table until you lifted your head at yeonjuns loud, “Look who finally made it!” 

beomgyu had only just seen you on his screen, putting on lipstick and blowing a kiss to your chat before logging off, he felt like he was hallucinating but he didn’t want to get caught staring. He tried to keep his features blank, avoiding spending too much time looking at you when he nodded a short greeting to everyone. he wasn't fully convinced it was you until soobin was introducing your side of the table, “And this is gyu,” 

your smile was the barest reaction he had ever seen you give, “Hi gyu,” so unlike the way you look when you call him beomie. he sat on the other side of soobin as the others continued their conversation. His hands were slick with sweat as he discreetly pulled out his phone pulling up your private chat, he had messaged you after stream like he usually did complimenting you, your sweet reply always going straight to his heart. He typed out a message for you clicking his phone off and letting it sit in his lap as he watched you pick yours up. 

beomiebear: I hope you’re thinking of me while you’re dressed that pretty tonight don’t need you forgetting me. 

beomgyu was trying not to make it obvious he was watching you as your face lit up typing before clicking your phone off. In his lap, his buzzed and he knew it was you. That little smile gave away more than anything else. 

you: There is no way I could forget about you when I'm always thinking about you <3

And as much as beomgyu wants to talk to you he's completely scared shitless. 

He feels like the second you two lock eyes you'll know he knows you’re a cam girl. That you'll feel weird once you know he's watched you get off for what feels like forever. Not even that he just watched but he's gotten off more times than he can count from watching you. that not even two hours ago he was fucking his hand wishing it was you and you had only been changing. He wouldn't be able to take it if you ignored him, stopped answering his messages, and smiled at his user. So he bit his tongue and sat back.

beomgyu didn’t think he would have a problem acting normal but when your friend dragged you out onto the dance floor it was almost painful not to watch you. the way your body was moving drawing him in without him noticing he was stuck on you until soobin bumped his shoulder, “just talk to her,” 

“w-what no,” he stumbled, waving away the suggestion, “she wouldn't- I'm not-“ his heart was beating so hard he's sure any more attention brought to him would give him away. 

“I will if you don’t,” gyu gave the deadliest glance, it was the last thing he ever wanted to think about, his friend and you together when it should be him. soobin chuckled, “I'm kidding I like her friend but it proves my point on why you should speak up,” 

beomgyu bit the inside of his cheek before muttering, “I'm getting another drink,” 

and that's where you found him at the bar. He was checking the time on his phone waiting for his drink when you popped up next to him leaning over the bartop waving over the bartender. Not even noticing he was from your group until the bartender walked right past ignoring you. gyu went stiff, placing his phone face down on the counter when you spoke up, “gyu right?” 

“Yeah,” he absentmindedly starts to play with the charm on his phone, flicking the lollipop. He knows you've never seen him, that you wouldn't know him in the way he knows you. Every shared glance feels as if you will just know it's him, like his username is written on his forehead that if you paid enough attention would be visible to only you. He could feel a pit in his stomach, a brewing mix of embarrassment and need. If he wasn't worried you would freak out he wanted to get to know you like he would any other girl in the bar. Ask you to dance, get you a drink, flirt until the sun comes up; he wanted you to like him, feel something for him even if it was a fraction of what he felt for you. 

“how do you know soobin?” you ask just trying to make conversation as you wait for another bartender to pass. 

“we're childhood friends and we roomed together our first year,” he flicks the charm again, looking over at the glasses lining the wall in front of the two of you, missing the way you looked down at what he was messing with. 

You could feel your heart in your ears at seeing the charm on his phone, the instant realization almost blinding. Your silence is what makes gyu look back at you, both of you looking at eachother like you saw a ghost. The two of you jumped out of your skin when Yeonjun and Kai came up behind gyu to say goodbye. 

“beomgyu were leaving,” and if Kai hadn't said his name at that exact moment you could have written it off. Anyone could be beomiebear it didn’t have to be gyu but mixed with the phone charm at that exact moment you couldn't have missed it. 

“o-okay,” beomgyu had to clear his throat to get the words out. the final nail in the coffin was when Yeonjun ruffled gyus hair as a salute not knowing he was leaving the two of you in a puddle of nerves after saying, “Bye beomie,” 

Even if it's a packed room, the only thing you can see is gyu in front of you. you had always dreaded the day when you would meet a member outside of chat, the possibility so much higher with your face uncovered. Now you were face to face with someone you had proof watched almost every single one of your streams. “so… is it going to be really uncomfortable now?” 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. I wasn't going to say anything,” beomgyu feels like he's rambling, grasping for straws to try to right the situation. You can see the panic on his face, the same face you're re-examining with your new clarity. A deep blush is set across his cheeks, his brows pinched in worry. 

“no it's okay I'm more shocked than uncomfortable,” you try to laugh it off, finger brushing over the little bear charm. “Happy to put a face to the name, you’re way cuter than I imagined,” 

beomgyu could feel warmth all over his body at the compliment, a soft smile showing itself. “you think?” it was so much better in person to hear you say nice things, to know it was meant for him alone. 

you give a soft chuckle waving, “Do you want to dance with me? I don’t think the bartender cares about us at this point,” 

“o-okay,” 

beomgyu couldn't believe you were here, the two of you are so close now that beomgyu can smell your perfume, making his cock so much harder remembering your panties pressed to his face, aided now by the way you were grinding back on him. he had a hard time putting his hands on you in the first place, you have to guide him to grab your waist. But as the night went on he was finding it easier and easier to let his hands roam wherever you let him. 

It felt as if you've known him for so long, everything falling into place as if you've always known each other, like that first stream was a first date and you haven't been apart since. If it had been anyone else you think you would have gone straight home and locked yourself away, with beomiebear, with beomgyu, you felt as if you could lock the two of you in a room and never leave. Because even if he had been behind the screen he still had picked up on the way you liked things. 

You turned wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to your mouth, “it's getting late,” 

“I don’t wanna go,” he confessed not caring if you could feel his erection pressed against you, he wanted to stay with you not see you go. 

“You don’t want to go home with me?” if you could push yourself any closer you would just to make your point, “Because something tells me you really do,” 

beomgyus mouth is dry, trying and failing to come up with words that won't seem too needy because all he wants to do is beg. he would have you right here if he could, right in the back of the uber you called to pick the two of you up. He's never been so nervous to be with anyone before, even his first time he was less needy and more confident. What breaks him is when you get to your apartment, when you push open the door to your spare room and he sees that pink bed from your background, moody lights and all. He moans at the thought of all the times he's seen you spread out on those very pillows with your hand between your thighs. The white skirt and panties you didn’t wear were still on the floor. “are you really wearing the panties I picked out?” his voice was caught in his throat, not at all how he wanted it to come off. But you just smile from the doorway, no one has ever been in here with you before and it gives you butterflies.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” you ask, sliding your hands up his chest and around his neck. 

He's slow to kiss you, the soft tentative nature of his kiss unlike how you thought he would be. He was being so gentle, taking his time with you, exploring the way you two fit together. His hands at your waist pulling you into him, kissing you breathless. beomgyu could make out with you forever, making every effort to know you inside and out. one hand sliding down the curve of your ass, pushing your shirt up until he was feeling the lace of your panties, groaning into your kiss. “do you-,” he can’t even pull himself away from you, pressing himself closer, coming back to your mouth like it was the source, “do you think-“

you have to pull away giggling. “it's okay beomgyu I'll still kiss you after you ask your question,” he's nodding like he understands, nose brushing against yours as he tries to latch back onto your mouth. 

“Do you think I could watch you?” those puppy dog eyes working wonders on your stomach, “please,”

“only if I get to see what it looks like on the other side of the screen,” you reach down to cup him over his jeans, “it's only fair,” beomgyu has never been so noisy in his life, whimpering as you feel him up, wanting to thrust into the air when you pull away. “Do you want me to use a toy?” 

he's nodding his head watching you pull open your closet door, the drawer you pull open overstocked with everything he's ever seen you use in a stream, even things he hasn't seen you use yet. He's almost a little shocked at the sight of all the options to choose from, mind filtering through every reaction he can remember you having with each one, needing to see your lashes flutter. It's when he sees the wand toy from the first stream he attended that he knows there was never another option for him. 

beomgyu sits on your vanity chair, leaning back against the cushion to get the perfect angle to watch you. The nerves were new for you, even the first few streams you had done you had been able to overlook the feeling because you were just alone in the room and no one really watched. Now you were actively being seen because even if the chat was running it was almost always positive comments that boosted your ego. Even other partners hadn't stepped into the space and maybe that's what was making it worse, you didn’t want to disappoint, but as you laid back on the pillows all stacked up to keep you slightly upright and looked at beomgyu it all faded away. He was watching you like he was seconds away from devouring you, that needy crease to his brow, the hem of his shirt rolled up just enough to show off his navel and waistband of his underwear. 

You lifted your knees to your chest using your arm to help keep them up, the way you were folded made your panties tighten against your cunt, the wet outline making gyus mouth water. He popped the button of his jeans, zipping down the zipper, to give him some release. You clicked on the vibrator, the hum the only sound in the room as you pressed it over your clit. Your reaction was instant, hips jerking and lashes fluttering. You could see the way beomgyus breathing increased, his hand pushed into his pants, lip between his teeth to keep his moans quiet. 

“I want to hear you,” you gasp, “I need to hear you,” 

beomgyu nods adam's apple bobbing, the breathy whimpers taking up all of the space in your mind until he pulls down his pants. His cock is heavy as it slaps against his stomach, beomgyu works fast to take off his shirt not caring where it lands as you focus in on every vein on his shaft. He's already so leaky, all his precum aiding his strokes. The visual of watching his hand working himself drives you insane, your imagination running wild as his hand pumps up and down stopping right at the flared tip, picturing exactly what it would feel like when he pushes into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, the pretty sounds coming from your mouth alone have beomgyu following right after, both of you locking eyes across the room as you try to come down from your high. gyus stomach is covered in streaks of his cum, sliding down with every breath he takes. You click off the wand not wanting to overstimulate yourself letting it fall in the pillows next to you.

Your panties are completely soaked as you push them down, strings of wetness still clinging to the fabric. You toss them over to beomgyu who's eager to catch them, cleaning up the mess he's made only to wrap them around his still-hard cock, letting your combined cum work as more lube for his slow pumps. “Your cock is so pretty beomie, does it put the gift I gave you to good use?” 

beomgyus thrusts up into his hand at the nickname, “Yes, I-I make sure to give it clitty kisses just like you told me,” 

you run your fingers through your slick folds spreading your legs wider to give him a better view, “are you going to give me clitty kisses before you fuck me?” beomgyu has to pull his hand away from himself before he came again at the question. He had dreamed of tasting you; getting lost between your thighs. He dropped your panties making his way to kneel in front of you on the bed. You still had your shirt and skirt on and he helped take both of them off before hooking your knees over his shoulders. As much as he has seen your pussy on screen nothing beats in person, your swollen clit covered in your slick, his head framed by your thighs. beomgyu is licking his lips as you brush your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands behind his ears, his eyes flickering up to yours as he wraps his hands around your thighs to keep you still. “how is it that you look this edible?”

you roll your hips, the heels of your feet pushing into his back, “just get to eating me,” 

his lips ghost over your clit, your whimper drawing him closer, soft kisses dusting over every part of your pussy. You have to tighten your hold on his hair, pushing him to your clit to get him to move past all his teasing. beomgyu moans at the taste of you, the vibrations aiding his work on your clit. If he could spend the rest of the night between your legs overstimulating you he would. Every sound and movement in reaction to the way he's making you feel fuling him on. He's messy as he buries his face into you, all of your wetness gathered on his tongue as he circles your bundle of nerves, sucking deeply making you roll your head back. Your second orgasm is blinding as he presses two fingers into you, the pressure making you see spots, legs closing in around his ears. 

When beomgyu pulls away your legs feel weak when they rest back on the bed. He kisses up your stomach, loving your uneven breathing as you try to come back to reality. His mouth is all over you, tongue trialing your skin before he finds your nipples. Taking his time with each he lightly tugs them between his teeth, sucking along the delicate flesh leaving marks up and down your body. beomgyus thinking about seeing all the hickeys he's leaving on you when you stream, everyone knowing someone had their mouth on you. The thought alone has him humping into the mattress, your giggles waking him up as you run your thumb over his cheek, “who knew beomiebear would be so needy,” 

“only for you,” he confesses kissing your extended wrist, “please let me fuck you, please,” 

you don’t hesitate to let your legs fall open wider as an invitation beomgyus cock already pressed against your thigh, sticky still from earlier. “you don’t need to beg,” 

you help him guide himself to your entrance, mushroom tip pressing in enough to make you shiver, mouth opening in a silent moan at the feeling. beomgyu can’t contain his noises, eyes glued to where the two of you are connected. He pushed in further the sight of him disappearing into your cunt like a beacon he won’t look away from. He doesn’t look up to see your face until he gives one last thrust to fully knock his pelvis to yours. Your head is rolled back with that hazy fucked out expression and he’s hardly done anything at all. he rolls his hips back before pushing all the way back in your whimper tearing him apart. “you feel so fucking good,” 

beomgyu sits back on his heels dragging you with him, hands holding your hips as your back arches. The angle pushing him right against your gspot, your feet digging Into the mattress as gyu frantically picks up his pace. He guides your body down on his cock, every thrust making your boobs bounce. beomgyu is lost in the feeling, desperate whimpers escaping him, veins in his hands and arms bulging from his hold on you. 

“beomie,” the name slipping so easily, the whine making beomgyu feel like any second he would cum especially when you felt this warm, this wet. He was using you like his own personal cock sleeve focused solely on getting his cum as deep as possible into you. 

Blindly you reached out next to you for the vibrator, finding it and turning it on pressing it to your clit. beomgyu can feel his orgasm building aided by the way you’re squeezing him. Sloppily thrusting he feels the tightness in his balls, he presses as close as he can get himself to you. 

The fucked out expression on his face as his hot cum spills inside you triggers your orgasm, the wand pressed to your clit also pressed to the base of his cock overstimulating the both of you. You go to move it but beomgyu’s hand shoots out holding the vibrator in place watching the way your body convulses. Thighs trying to close in around him, your cries loud enough you know you’ll get a noise complaint. But beomgyu’s cock is still pulsing your body milking him in a way no one ever has before. 

It’s only when he sees the tears in your eyes that he pulls the wand away, switching it off and laying himself onto you. His mouth is on your neck, hammering pulse pressed to his lips as he gives you slow soft thrusts making sure you’re stuffed full of his cum. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers curling in the sweaty strands of hair at the base of his neck. Both of you catch your breath slowly coming back to yourselves. 

When he pulls out you feel the overwhelming gush of your combined cum slipping out and down to puddle on the mattress. beomgyu sat back watching in amazement. “I’ve always wanted to see what your pussy would look like after i was done with it,” two fingers scooping up anything he could to stuff it right back in.

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 
@tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 
@cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 
@yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae

and a very special thank you to @fairyofshampgyu for beta reading this for me <33333

[writingsbychlo]

LOSE YOUR INHIBITIONS

mattheo riddle & theodore nott | 8.1k

your boyfriend thought it would be fun to play a game of hide and seek only knowing one another's costumes. neither of you anticipated the mix-up of someone else wearing the same mask, or the thrilling events that follow.

note: happy hallowe'en, angels! you knew me and @theostrophywife would never leave you hanging on this special day, right? enjoy xo

Accepting the shot presented to you at the door, Fred Weasley delivered the vial with a charming grin. With a flick of his wrist, the door to the Gryffindor common room opened, letting the sounds of the party spill out from within. It was raging already, though this was no surprise, as the parties the twins threw had always been legendary. 

Swirling the sparkling liquid around inside the tube, it flickered in iridescent shades as the flashing lights from within rippled through it, and a smirk tugged on your painted lips. It smelled like sugared cherries and vanilla, a mouthwatering and tempting combination. Bringing it to your lips, you let the flavour wash over you, like silk as it ran down your throat dangerously smoothly. 

This party had been all anyone could talk about for the past two weeks, since the infamous Weasley pair had finally revealed the theme for this year's Hallowe’en bash. A masquerade party, hence the broken doll makeup that covered the right side of your face, but that hadn't been enough to satisfy the pair. No, rather than stop there, they’d gone on to craft themselves a potion of their own imagining, one that began to leave the edges of your vision blurring in a perfect kind of haze, and you placed the empty tube back down onto the tray in his hand. 

“How’s it feel?” Fred grinned, red hair shining under the low lights as you blinked away the fuzziness in the edges of your vision. It was then, as you stared a moment longer, that the recognition of a face you’d known for almost a decade slipped your mind entirely. 

“Oh… wow.”

“Recognise me?” He chuckled, handing a couple of vials to a group of giggling girls who passed you by, none of whom you now found you could place the identity of. Even the timbre of his voice sounded distorted and different as you processed it, knowing what he normally sounded like. 

“I only know it’s you because… well, because we've been talking. I have no idea who just walked past.” You murmured, a pleasant tingling spreading through your body, slipping away any anxieties and worries. Only warmth and excitement were left in its wake. 

“Didn’t we tell you to arrive with your friends, hm? Good luck finding anyone in there.” Fred tutted teasingly, motioning for you to go inside, and you hummed your acknowledgement as you walked into the party. 

The floors vibrated under your feet, making you wonder just how many other students they’d had to coerce into helping cast the charms keeping this party a secret from the professors. Enchanted lights refracted and bounced around the expanded common room space, changing colours and leaving patterns streaking the darkened atmosphere.

Upon entering the main room, the heavy base of the music shook you so hard it rocked all the way up into your stomach with every step you took, and bodies filled every space in the room. Dancing, talking, laughing, playing games, drinking. They’d thought of it all, and you made your way slowly over to the drinks table to fill yourself up a cup with the spiced elf wine you were so fond of this time of year. 

Some people milled around in groups, clinging to those whose identities they knew, while others boldly adventured and mingled in the freedom of anonymity. With a cursory glance across the crowds, all of the faces and voices around you blurred away before you could properly identify them. People you’d known for years were strangers to you for the night, and the spike of adrenaline it caused felt light lightning. 

With a twist in your stomach, and another gulp of wine, the music beat as your feet guided you through the throngs of people, beginning the search for a familiar mask. 

Mattheo hadn't told you when he’d arrive, only that it would be after you. 

Originally planning to arrive together, your boyfriend had thought it all the more amusing to turn the night into a thrilling game for the pair of you. You were only given the knowledge of what his mask looked like; something he’d picked up at a Muggle costume store to ensure nobody else would be wearing the same thing.

The black and white details were burned into your mind, and yet, every face you passed wasn’t what you were looking for. After completing your first lap of the party, you’d found yourself situated in a new corner. With a heady mixture of wine and adrenaline buzzing through your bloodstream, you tapped your fingers against your thigh in anticipation.

The second lap you took of the room resulted in much the same way. Though, this time, it had certainly taken longer. The dance floor had long since been overflowed, the groups, couples and solo dancers for the night had spilt out to fill almost half of the room. Grinding, swaying, twirling, you’d become caught up with different people at least three times, as the atmosphere of the party swept you away. Laughing, flushed cheeks, you finally stumbled from the masses and back into the rest of the room. 

More people had arrived since you had first started the hunt of your game, and you had no doubt now that he was in here somewhere, waiting for you to find him. No mask fit, no costume was right, and you’d done almost three laps of the room before you spotted him. 

Hours had melted by, you were sure of it, but suddenly it all felt like nothing as you spotted the masked man standing across the room. 

Tall, dressed impeccably in all black, and breathing out smoke from under the edge of the mask as he passed a cigarette around the group of boys he was standing with. His head tipped back as he laughed, and as you saw the mask you had memorised, you were sure of it. 

Slipping over, you made sure to skirt around the edges of the group, delighting in the squeal you involuntarily let loose when his head turned in your direction. Though you couldn't see his eyes beneath the mask, you could feel his sights locked onto your own, and for a moment, it felt like the breath was trapped in your lungs. 

Tall, imposing, terrifying. You bit your lip, waving your fingers at him, and watching his lips twist into a smirk, before he was handing off the cigarette in his hands, and waving back. Crooking a finger to beckon him closer, those long legs carried him until he stood before you, the smell of smoke and spiced whiskey rolling off of him and covering your senses. 

“Well, hello there.” You whispered, hands reaching out to settle on his arms as you took a small step forward. Trailing your hands along his sleeves, your fingers brushed against the embroidery on his cuff, and your smile widened at confirmation under your fingertips of the sewing you’d put there.

“Hello, doll.” He mused, humoured by his own joke, and you rolled your eyes gently, taking his hands in your own, and tugging him towards the dance floor. 

“Come on, I’ve been waiting all evening to dance.”

“Have you now?” He rolled his lower lip through his teeth, watching your hips move as you led him to a space you’d be able to occupy enough to move amongst the bodies. “And what have you been waiting for?”

“The right partner, of course.” Happy with the spot you’d found, you looped your arms around his neck, stepping into your boyfriend’s space a lot more, and his hands slid down your sides to settle on your hips. “Glad I finally found you.”

“Found me, indeed.” He mumbled, his forehead coming down to rest on your own, and a happy sigh slipped from your lips. You couldn't see much beyond the black-out eyes of the mask, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to, instead, you turned your back to him and pressed yourself into his chest, pulling his arms around you in the same way you always did. 

Swaying together in harmony, your head rolled back to sit on his shoulder, the words to the songs happily flowing from your lips as your hips ground against your boyfriend’s. Hands wandered, weak groans and ghosts of his breath along your neck were exchanged for your giggles. 

Where one game ended, a new one arose, a game of push and pull as you danced together. Pressing your arse back into his crotch, he returned the force, the outline of him pressing through his jeans to display his interest, and his arms tightened around you. 

“You’re confident, hm?” He teased, both hands dropping to your thighs, nails skating over your skin in a new and delicious way that made you shiver. When he reached the edge of your dress, his fingertips barely dipped below, before opting to toy with the fabric instead and slip away. 

“You love it.” Came your response, guiding one of his hands a little further up your body, skimming it over your breast tantalisingly before bringing your joined hands up, raised in the air to sway to the song. His laughter was warm and contagious, and time seemed to melt away once again as you sank into his embrace. 

At some point, he had tugged up the edge of his mask, his mouth descending upon your neck to kiss and lick and bite, drawing moans and whimpers from your lips. When dancing had grown tiresome for you both, you’d slipped back to the drinks table, laughing your way through a shot of Gigglewater each, before finding your way to one of the more secluded couches in the darker corners of the room. 

Now, your mouth was on his neck, marking his skin with red lipstick prints as one of his hands continued to grip your hips, allowing you to roll your core ever so slowly over the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. His other hand was splayed across one of your breasts, squeezing slowly as he panted, pulse racing under your lips. 

“(Y/n)?” A voice broke you from your reverie, and you nibbled on the sweet spot on his neck. 

“Yeah, Matty?” You whispered, believing the call to have come from the man underneath you. However, when he stiffened, so suddenly and harshly it was like he’d turned to stone, you pulled back. Your brows furrowed, you couldn't see what was wrong with his mask on, and you were reaching to remove it when you became aware of the other figure, standing behind the couch. 

With a gasp as you observed his almost identical attire, your heart felt for a moment like it stopped beating. In what you were sure would’ve looked almost comical in any other situation, you looked dumbly between the two matching masks. 

A soberingly cold bolt of shock sliced through you as you looked up, finding another tall, impeccably-clad man in all black standing behind the couch on which you were currently straddling Mattheo on. Or, thought you were, but now, as you took in the identical mask on his face, doubt began to creep in. The second man crossed his arms, legs widening in eerily familiar body language.

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach as you pulled back, pushing the man beneath you away by his shoulders. His neck was shining from the hickeys you had been enthusiastically marking his neck with. No matter how hard you tried, however, you couldn't place the features of either, recognition dancing just out of reach within your mind, and you let slip a frustrated growl. 

“Matty?” You whispered, and the man underneath you somehow stiffened further, a feat you’d thought impossible, as the one standing squared his shoulders and seemed to grow angrier through stance alone. 

“That would be me, sweetheart.” The one standing ground out through his teeth, voice so cold it made you feel like the temperature in the room had dropped. Springing up from the couch, you shook your head, feeling as though the whole world had just been tipped upside down. You had no chance to process it, as the intruder voiced the question also on your mind, “What the fuck is going on?”

“I found you! I found the mask!” An uncomfortable feeling raced through your body, heart pounding in your chest. As you rubbed at the place it thumped so hard, trying to escape, he seemed to soften a little. “I was so sure! Fuck, this stupid game—” 

The flashing lights were too much, the noise and the people and the complete lack of awareness were all too much, and you stumbled for the exit. The moment you were out of the party and alone in the corridors, it was like you could breathe again. Gasping cold breaths into your lungs, you found yourself in silence, the charms working perfectly to contain the secrecy of the party, the only noise was your heaving breaths and the sound of your heart pumping. 

Pressing your back into the cool stone of the wall, you tugged off the mask on your face, shaky fingers dropping it to the ground as the balls of your hands pressed to your eyes, just trying to think. 

Then, like a whoosh of warmth and a burst in the tranquillity of the corridor, a body slammed into the stone beside you, a groan slipping free as the breath left his lungs. The mask was still on his face, covering his identity, not that you’d be able to tell who it was even if it was gone, but you could recognise Mattheo by default now. He’d taken off his mask, his features swimming just outside of your consciousness like in a dream, but those flattened curls, and the chain around his neck, it was no doubt. 

“Someone better start explaining what the fuck is going on.” Mattheo hissed, brown eyes growing a little more familiar the longer you looked at them, filled with both rage and vulnerability. 

“I-I was so sure, Matty! I checked the sleeve and everything, I’m sorry.” The man whom you now knew to be your boyfriend was wearing a black t-shirt only, and you fumbled for the stranger’s sleeve, tugging the left one forward and tracing your finger over the embroidered initials that you had sewn into every shirt, jumper and tee he owned. 

Mattheo gripped the stranger's wrist in a far tighter hold than you had, yanking him forward to inspect the markings on the sleeve, and silent confusion settled between the three of you. Seconds ticked past in what felt more like hours, and then, Mattheo groaned in frustration, dropping the man’s wrist and raking his hand through his curls instead. He turned, kicking the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. 

“Fucking potion, I don’t even know who the fuck you are! You’ve got my sweater, I mean, what is this, a set-up?” With a swing, his open palm slammed down on the rock on the side of the stranger’s head, Mattheo’s unfamiliar features close enough to the stranger that he’d smell the whiskey on your boyfriend’s breath. “What to do with you now, huh? When I kick the shit out of you for kissing my girlfriend, I want to know exactly who I’m hitting.”

“I’ll tell you.” The stranger croaked, and Mattheo let out a dry laugh as he backed away. 

“And I’m supposed to just trust you, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping your ribs as your arms wrapped around yourself, unprepared for the answer, whether it was the truth or not. More silence ticked by, so many moments that your skin pebbled with goosebumps in the chill, and you rubbed your arms for warmth in the cold castle corridors. 

Eventually, the stranger balled his shaking hands, and cursed under his breath in a language you recognised immediately. Italian. Your next inhale caught painfully in your throat as realisation struck before he’d even begun to speak. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t mean for this or happen. I—”

Shoes scuffled against the floor, and then Mattheo had him by the collar of his sweater, backed to the wall once again as his fist reared back for the swing—

“It’s Theo!”

Mattheo’s punch halted, the impact of stopping so suddenly rippling along his body, and his tension faltered. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?” He implored, tugging off his mask at last, to reveal the same blurred, dreamlike features, but a recognisable head of golden-brown hair. “I can explain, I swear. Can you just put your fist down for a second?”

Reaching out, he placed a hand over Mattheo’s, lowering it slowly, and you crept forward to wrap your own hands around Mattheo’s, sliding his fist open to slip your fingers between his. He squeezed back fiercely, angrily. But, then, he lifted your hand up to his mouth, and kissed the back of your hand in a gesture you knew so well, all while glaring at ‘Theo’. 

“Look, I didn’t have a costume. It’s stupid, I wasn’t planning on coming to the party at all, but I changed my mind.” With another nervous breath, you rubbed your thumb over Mattheo’s, feeling him tense and release over and over again as bursts of anger shot through him. “You were in the shower and your mask was hanging on the back of the door, so I just used a Geminio on yours. I grabbed the first pair of black jeans and a sweater I could find, I didn’t think you’d mind, we share clothes all the time! I’m sorry.”

Mattheo took a deep breath and another. And another. 

His head tipped back to stare at the ceiling, and blue eyes that ticked at being familiar found yours, “I’m sorry, bella. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I figured you two would show up together, and…”

“It was a game.” You finally croaked out, voice sore from holding back tears. “It was just a stupid game, I thought I found Matty but it was you.”

“I should’ve asked for your name. But, the potion and my inhibitions…”

“How does this even happen, Theo? Are you such a slut you were just letting a girl grind on you when you didn’t even know her name?” Mattheo jabbed, but the heat of rage was gone from his words, and instead lingered a desperation for some kind of explanation.

“Yes, apparently, I am!” Theo slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late now. The potion, the weed, the whiskey, it was all mixing, and Theo had always been a chatterbox when intoxicated. “Cazzo, she’s so fucking hot, mate! I didn’t want to stop and ask questions, I just wanted to get my hands on her and—” His words disintegrated into a gurgled choke as Mattheo once again pinned him to the wall, this time with a hand on his throat. 

His fingers flexed, and with a ragged swear he released the grip he had on Theo, allowing him to speak once again.

“Mattheo, you have to let me go.”

“Why?” Your boyfriend demanded, even as his hand loosened a fraction more. No matter how angry he was, you all knew he was incapable of hurting Theo. Mattheo would sooner injure himself than someone he loved, and Theo fell squarely into that category. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re not going to hurt me, we both know that,” Theo said gently, and Mattheo growled in a threat that scared nobody. “It’s not our fault. We were laced with a potion, a potion that is still very much in my system and blurring my boundaries. I was already hard as fuck, and this is really turning me on. Please let me go before this gets any more embarrassing for all of us.”

Your eyes widened, much like Mattheo’s, and Theo smirked a little at the shock he’d managed to inflict. “What?”

“Merde, since it’s clear that I’m not getting fucked tonight, and blue balls are setting in, could you kindly let me go, before I cream myself from your choking, Mattheo?” Theo hissed, his fingers wrapping around the wrist of the hand now merely sitting like a warm presence on his throat. 

Mattheo considered it for a second, two, three. A whole new kind of tension lingered in the air, and his hand slipped down from Theo’s throat to his shoulder instead. He turned to look at you, his gaze finding your own, a questioning heat swirling in them that you knew all too well. Mattheo wanted it. That kind of burning desire was something you were intimately familiar with, as was his secret wish to fuck his best friend. He’d wanted it long since before the two of you had gotten together, and he’d confided it in you early on. You’d discussed the possibility before, sure, but Theo had never been unattached, or the timing had never been right. You’d never dared cross such a line before. Now, the line was all but obliterated anyway, might as well proceed without caution. 

With a small nod, excitement lit up Mattheo’s face in replacement of dark anger.

“Who says you’re not getting fucked?”

It was Theo’s turn to be speechless, that smirk melting off of his face as he gaped instead. With all the elegance and eloquence you knew him to possess, he uttered a simple, “Huh?”

Turning back to you, Mattheo slipped a hand over your eyes, while pressing a kiss to your cheek. He muttered a few Geminio’s, and when he removed his hand, both of them had their masks back on, and matching attire now. In identical tees and jeans, right down to the boots and gloves, they looked the same. Your heart skipped a beat, and your throat bobbed with anticipation.

“Can you tell who’s who?” One of them asked, their voice unrecognisable once again, and without the simple features you’d clung to for identity, your lips parted. On a trembling, excited breath, you shook your head. 

“No. I can’t.”

“Good.” With that, a hand slipped into each of your own, a tug within your stomach telling you that someone had apparated the three of you, because when you blinked next, you were in the boys’ dorm. The latch on the door flicked locked with a quiet spell, and the needle on the record player lowered to begin crooning one of Mattheo’s favourite albums for these kinds of moments. 

You looked between them both, a twisted glee at having no idea who was who. One of them reached a hand out, brushing cold fingers along your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, peering into the dark spaces of the mask hiding his eyes. 

“I think this moment deserves a picture, don’t you?” One of them whispered, head tipping to the other, and a condescending and arousing chuckle made you shudder with anticipation. In a flurry of moving hands and bodies, you found yourself kneeling before the full-length mirror in the room, both of the masked men standing behind you. One had your hair twisted around his hand loosely, as the other held the camera. 

Click. 

“So pretty.” Came a quiet mumble, you weren’t even sure which man said it, but it made you flush and smile nonetheless. Untwisting his hand from your hair, he offered it to you instead, your fingers settling over his own as he helped you back to your feet. With a small tug, you were tumbling into his body, a gasp leaving you as your back settled on his chest.

The next photo came as you stood, your head rolled back onto a shoulder, and your dress pulled down to bunch around your waist, leaving your breasts and lacy bra on show. Large hands covered your tits, squeezing appreciatively as your vision spotted from the flash of the little Polaroid once again. 

Click. 

“Guess who?” The voice purred beside your ear, those hands moving to your hips, your thighs, tracing your body as though a new wonder before him. 

“Theo?” You whispered, tipping your head to come face to face with the mask. 

“Wrong.” The one holding the camera said, and a whimper slipped from your throat as Mattheo slapped your arse with just the kind of punishing pressure he knew so well. Biting down on your lip, you let them readjust you, slipping your eyes closed as you stood in the centre of the room. Someone tugged your dress the rest of the way down, someone held your hips as you slipped out of your heels, and then someone was flicking open the catch on your bra, until you were stood naked in the centre of the room. 

For a long moment, nobody touched you at all, and your nerves skittered at the thrill, breath catching in your throat.

Then, warm hands without the leather gloves now were on your body. Behind you, their breath on your neck, hands skimming up your arms lightly, and you gasped. You understood the game they wanted to play.

“Theo?” You whispered, sure you’d guessed correctly this time, with the reverent and cautious touch it seemed to be. The sharp sting of a hand coming down across your arse proved you wrong. 

“Nope.”

The figure stepped away from you, and your fingers twitched to reach out, your lips pulling in a grin as you waited for the next set of hands to come. When they did, it was without hesitation, two large hands closing over the top of your bra, and taking an appreciative squeeze. 

The force with which he grabbed you pulled you back into his chest, and you chuckled, tipping your head until you could feel the beat of his heart against you. 

“Theo.”

You were certain of that, getting a rumbling him against your back, and a kiss to your shoulder blades as he backed away, confirming your choice. 

The next touch was on your stomach, knuckles skimming in a featherlight touch over your skin, circling your navel, before fingertips traced the top of your panties. Snapping the elastic against your skin, he drew a breathy moan from you. “Matty.”

“Wrong.” His words were punctuated with a slap, your legs shaking with the impact, and you clenched your thighs together, forcing your eyes to stay closed no matter how much you wanted to open them. The camera never stopped clicking, observing you and recording you in the moment of erotic vulnerability.

A handful of tense moments passed this time, you were sure they were communicating something outside of your knowledge. There seemed to be no order or system to their touches, nothing you could latch onto, leaving you completely in the dark, and it was thrilling. 

A light touch traced its way up the inside of your thighs, a contrast to the foot that roughly kicked the insides of your feet, forcing your thighs to open wider. The other hand was on your back, tracing your spine until he pushed between your shoulders forcing you to bend. And as you did, those same fingers traced your cunt through your underwear, drawing an impatient whine from you as you were forced to keep waiting. “Teddy?”

“Wrong again,” Came Mattheo’s amused voice, and this time, you didn’t get a spank across your arse, but instead, a pinch to your clit that made your entire body jerk. 

“That was Mattheo.” You squeaked, familiar with his antics and the way he touched your body, and a face in front of you laughed. Cracking your eyes open to peer at someone so familiar and yet so unfamiliar at the same time, he smirked at you. 

“That was an obvious one.”

“Mhm.” Licking across your lower lip, you pushed forward, eager to close the distance and kiss your boyfriend for the first time tonight. He let you, his mouth sealing against your own in comforting familiarity, his hands holding your jaw as he straightened you back up.

His tongue played with your own while he guided you backwards until he was lowering you onto the bed, his knee between your thighs to grind on, pressing against your aching core and giving you the relief you so desperately needed. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this getting’ you going?” He teased, raising your hands above you, and all you could do was nod and moan. His hand cupped your face, his thumb rubbing across your cheek, as his mouth trailed your jaw on the other side. 

When he’d finished marking his favourite spot on your neck, leaving the skin stinging in the best way possible with his prints, he pulled away once again. He flipped you over, onto your stomach, undoing the catch on your bra and letting you shake your arms out of it, before you were without touch once again, back to both of your men as they stood behind you. 

Face down in the bed, you once again lost track of who was who, feeling another set of hands snaking their way up your thighs, into the lace of your panties. Inching them own, slowly, so slowly, another hand laced into your hair, pulling your head up from the bedding, and a body pressed against your back, the camera flashing in your face once again. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, the desperation beginning to cloud any semblance of morals or judgement you might’ve had left far more than any potion ever could. “Enough pictures, I need you, please!”

“Who do you need, baby? Who’s on their knees for you, huh? Get it right, and you can have it.” Clenching your thighs, you keened, throwing an arrogant smirk over your shoulder. 

“Theo.”

They both paused for a second before Mattheo chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Because when you eat me out, Matty, you bite me first.” Your smirk was countered with a spank to the back of your thighs, and Theo sank his teeth into one of your arse cheeks as a consequence for your attitude, but it was worth it. 

Flipping up your skirt and exposing the sensitive skin of your backside to the room, Theo blew a streak of cold air across your bare pussy, making you jerk forwards with a startled gasp. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth between your legs for so long, bella. You have no idea how often I think about this.”

With that, Theo licked a long stripe up your dripping folds, and his moan was almost as loud as yours as he got a taste. Like a man possessed, Theo began to eat. He didn’t hold back, not even for a moment, confident in his movements as he proved all those rumours true. Girls loved to talk, Theo was a hot topic in gossip groups, and you were ashamed of how often you’d listened in. Now, you knew it all to be true.

You were just beginning to lose yourself to the feeling, hips rocking against Theo’s face as he eagerly encouraged the actions, when your head was yanked up, to meet another ghost-faced mask peering down at you. You were sure your heart had stopped beating altogether. 

Kneeling before you on the bed was Mattheo. If you weren’t well aware by this point that Theo was the one on his knees behind you, devouring you like you were his final meal, you’d have recognised Mattheo by his cock alone. Pretty pink tip and a slight curve that always hit just right, the silvery bead of arousal running down his tip and into his fingers as he pumped slowly made your mouth water. 

His fingers brushed your cheek, settling on your jaw, and you opened your mouth for him. 

“My good girl.” He murmured, allowing you enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows before the heated head of his cock found its way between your lips and settled like a heavy weight on your tongue. The salty taste of him was familiar, slicking across your tastebuds as you swirled your tongue around him, a deep and throaty rumble echoing from his chest as he settled back. 

With your hips pinned to the bed, your cries of pleasure were muffled by the cock in your mouth, he switched between fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit. The sensations were overwhelming, so much going on that your head was spinning.

Kneeling there, thick thighs spread as your hands smoothed up them, you moaned around Mattheo, passing on the pleasure Theo made you feel. Sliding one hand up higher as the other supported you, your head bobbed, fingertips raking his flexing abs under his shirt. Tugging on a handful of the material, Mattheo tipped his covered face back to you, and you swore you could feel his smirk under the mask in the mere way he tilted his head. 

Pulling back with an obscene pop, you gasped for air, straightening your arm and leaning up as far as you could, while Theo still brutally gripped your hips to keep you in place against his face. “Please, Matty, take it off.”

With a mutter, his shirt disappeared, the chain you knew so well hanging around his neck, glinting in the warm lights against the glow of his skin. He held your face in his hands, pulling you up, and the mouth of the mask pressed against your lips. The taste of him through the fabric made your head spin, rationale abandoning you once again as you kissed him through the mask. 

His fingers threaded into your hair, tightening ever so slightly, as he pushed your head back down. “Suck, sweetheart.”

You dropped on shaky arms, taking the length of him down your throat once again, using him to muffle the sounds of your moans from Theo’s relentless assault on your cunt. The pressure building inside of you swelled, your hips grinding back against Theo’s face, pushing into the security of his hands on your body as he held so tight he’d bruise. With a cry around Mattheo’s cock, you fell apart. 

Your boyfriend pulled back as you came, your shouts and pleas exposed to the room as you trembled through an incredible orgasm. Theo kept up with you, every wave and dip, until you were boneless and spent on the bed. 

But he never stopped. 

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, a sensitive mewl escaping you, and as you tried to claw your way up the mattress, Theo pulled back, biting at your inner thigh. 

“You’re not going anywhere, dolcezza. I’ve waited so long for this, and who knows if I’ll ever get the chance again. I’m making the most of this. And I’m not finished.”

Mattheo slid off the bed as Theo flipped you over, letting you face the ceiling instead of the sheets now as he lifted one knee over each of his shoulders, his arms banding around your thighs. It locked you where you were, splayed open and unable to escape as he dove back in. 

Your back arched, head pressing into the mattress as his assault began anew on your overly sensitive cunt. As he worked, his own moans increased in volume and urgency, and you found the strength to lift your head for only a moment. Kneeling on the floor behind the maskless stranger that you knew to be Theo, was Mattheo. Now without his mask too, messy curls on display again, Theo sank two fingers into your core and scissored them open, freeing himself up to toss his head back onto Mattheo’s shoulder. 

Mattheo was kissing and biting his way along Theo’s shoulder and up his throat, his arm around Theo’s body moving in a way that you knew exactly why Theo was moaning in such a way. When Mattheo’s kisses reached high enough, Theo twisted his head, lips locking on Mattheo’s, and you clenched down around his fingers, dropping your head back to the bedding at the sight. 

Theo switched between kissing your boyfriend and kissing your pussy, both involving copious amounts of tongue, as his fingers never let up inside of you. Already being so overstimulated, it didn’t take long until you were teetering on the brink of another earth-shattering climax, ears ringing with your noise and Theo’s. 

Hopefully, everybody was at the party, because you’d forgotten to cast a Muffliato and there was no doubt that anyone passing by would be able to hear your moans. That, and the needy sounds Theo was making as Mattheo worked him closer and closer to the edge. 

When you finally came again, your body shook and trembled against the mattress, legs snapping closed as your wetness soaked your thighs, and you gasped for burning breaths amid the delirious pleasure. On the floor, Mattheo tugged an overstimulated Theo’s head back with a fistful of his golden hair, and bit the lobe of his ear, hard. Theo’s eyes rolled back happily as Mattheo mumbled, “Don’t you dare come yet, pretty boy, I have plans for you.”

With that, Theo was whining pathetically as Mattheo retracted from touching him at all, rocking to his feet with far too much arrogant ease for the state both you and Theo rendered to. The final pieces of clothing between the three of you were shed, somewhere between Theo pulling Mattheo in for desperate kisses, and Mattheo mumbling into the snog about how long he’s desired this. You watched, through hooded eyes, as the tangled men stumbled their way towards you, hips grinding together through decreasing layers of clothing, until Mattheo was gripping them both in his hand to thrust together. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, too turned on by the sight before you to even catch your breath, and the mattress was soon bouncing as another body hit it. You found yourself lying beside Theo on the bed, his features ever so slowly starting to seep back into focus. The potion was nearing its end, and the smile on his swollen lips was familiar as he leaned over to kiss you. 

“Hi, bella.”

“Hi, Teddy.” You grinned as his mouth slanted against your own, a heady mix of Mattheo’s flavour, your arousal, and simply him, all meeting in the kiss. It was enough to melt you into his arms in half a second. Theo rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, and you yelped as Mattheo gripped your hips and lifted you to straddle Theo properly. 

“You looked so pretty squirming in his lap before, baby. Show me again.” Mattheo mocked, and you had no doubt you were far from pretty, now. Your tears would’ve ruined your makeup, smeared into your hands or the sheets, you no doubt looked like a fucked-out mess, but the only thing you saw reflected in either of their gazes was raw, primal desire. 

Theo slipped a hand from your hip to his cock, notching the leaking tip to your entrance, already stretched out from his previous activities. You were clenching around nothing, your whining reaching your ears, fading out into moans as he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch, Theo was stretching you out for the first time this evening. He was longer than Mattheo, surpassing any depths you’d ever been fucked to before, and your eyes rolled back, panting through shallowed breaths as you pushed back against him until you were filled. 

It truly felt like he was splitting you in half, the tip of his cock pressing so deep and the outline of him present on your stomach. You traced the bulge of him with a sick kind of thrill. “So big, Teddy.”

“That's because I’ve never been this turned on in my fucking life. Merde.” He wheezed, his head pressing back into the bedding behind his head. Mattheo chuckled from behind you both, his kisses leading up your spine as you sat in Theo’s lap, adjusting to the fill of him. 

“Look at my sweethearts, already so spent,” Mattheo murmured, hooking his chin over your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist to toy slowly with your throbbing clit. As your hips began to move, Theo’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes constantly moved between where you met, your face, and Mattheo. He couldn't decide where to look or what to watch, as Mattheo littered your mouth with hickeys behind you, and you rode Theo. 

The potions were finally wearing off, and you were thrilled to see the familiar features reappear. Beneath you, at last, Theo came into full focus. His messy hair, his flushed cheeks, swollen lips and shining eyes. He was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him, and that was saying something because he was gorgeous every moment of every damn day. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, and he beamed back with genuine emotion, not just lust.

Rocking your hips needily against his own, chasing both of your climaxes, you leaned down to him and smothered his lips with your own. He kissed back just as tenderly, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, and he sighed in a soft manner as your fingers slipped into his hair, and your tongue tangled with his. 

He settled for propping himself up during the kiss, giving you the perfect place to lean against his chest. Finally finding himself and crooking his legs behind you, his motions tossed you forward a little more, your mouths parting with your surprised gasp. He smirked as you lost your momentum and power, only to hand it all over to him as he began to thrust up into you from below. In your new position, Mattheo let out a contented sound at the sight, running calloused hands down the sides of your ribs, over your hips, and to your arse. 

Pulling your cheeks apart, he whispered a new spell you’d been experimenting with lately, and the warm, wet sensation of a lubricating charm trickled out from between your cheeks. A fingertip teased your puckering hole, sliding in to the first knuckle, and then deeper. 

“Think you can take us both, baby?” Mattheo asked, teasing, but genuine concern coated his voice through the lust, and when you nodded frantically, it wasn’t enough. 

“Both?” Theo panted, his thrusts slowing to a stop as you pushed yourself back onto what was now two of Mattheo’s fingers, stretching you open to take a second cock. “Oh, fuck, you’re— voi due siete come se il mio sogno più bello diventasse realtà.” Theo moaned, his hands holding your hips tight as he slammed a single, frantically hard thrust into you and then stilling for Mattheo.

“Yes or no, sweetheart? I don’t want to—”

“Yes, Mattheo! Merlin, yes, please! Please, do it.” Your begging was hurried and blurred, no longer capable of proper thought of speech, all you knew was what you needed from him. From them both. 

Mattheo slipped his fingers out of you, gripping his cock and spitting down onto himself, smearing it around his cock in the wetness already gathered, and positioning himself. At the sight, Theo whined again, “Me next,” He mumbled, and Mattheo laughed breathlessly. 

“To be spat on, or to be fucked up the arse?” Mattheo questioned, sinking himself into you slowly, and your eyes rolled back. 

“Cazzo, what kind of question is that? Both. Absolutely both.” Theo yapped, only drowned out by the volume of the sound you made. Pornographic, filthy, and uncontrollable. Your arms finally gave way, and you collapsed down to be cradled against Theo’s chest as you were finally filled with them both. It was so much it was overwhelming, in the best way possible, and you knew now that you were definitely being split in two this time. It was exquisite. 

Beginning to rock their hips into you, the two soon found a pace and worked together, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of it. Pure, unadulterated bliss took you over, the feeling spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes, and clouding everything thought in your head that wasn't begging or their names. Your body rocked with them, your throat raw, and it wasn’t long before the feelings were all consuming. 

Catapulting over the brink of bliss, a feeling you’d only experienced once or twice before took hold of you. Your juices gushed from you, a mess that soaked both the man under you as well as the one behind you. Mattheo praised you through an orgasm that came with so much force you were sure you blacked out for a moment, while Theo rode you through it and observed in awe. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt as though you were hardly breathing, screams petering off into absolute silence as tears ran down your cheeks. It was perfect. 

Mattheo soon followed, emptying himself inside of you with a deep and feral growl, pressing you into Theo’s chest as his body collapsed against your own. Shaking against you through his bliss, Mattheo left a collection of fast, loving kisses along your neck and shoulders, before pulling you off of Theo. 

Letting you roll to the side and shudder through the aftershocks, Mattheo focused his attention on the other member of your trio. Theo couldn’t even find the words to complain before Mattheo was circling a finger and thumb around the base of Theo’s cock, following the creamy circle of your arousal, and squeezing. 

Theo’s back arched, his legs spasming, and the veins in his biceps stood out as his cheeks went red with the strain of his desperation. 

“No!” He howled, slamming a fist into the bedding, almost hitting the discarded camera, and your hand caught it just before it rolled off of the edge of the bed. Surprising, that it had survived there for this long. “Why, Matty? I was— I was—”

Theo’s voice cracked, tears lining his eyes at being held at the brink when he was so close to the edge, and he took gasping, audible breaths as he tried to settle himself, sniffling. 

“I know, my pretty boy, I know,” Mattheo whispered, leaning down to kiss Theo’s frown. “You can come, just let me get my mouth on you first. I’ve always wanted you to come down my throat, I just needed you to hold off for me.” 

Theo let out a pained groan at that, his anger fading away as he nodded, and he slipped long fingers into dark curls before your very eyes as Mattheo descended upon his best friend’s cock. 

He dragged his tongue along the entire length of him, licking your juices from Theo’s skin, and his cock twitched dangerously. Taking the hint, Mattheo swallowed him down, and he wasn’t even halfway before Theo’s back arched, and he came. 

It was a beautiful sight and sound, both you and Mattheo watching in admiration as Theo finally reached his peak. Positioning the camera in your unsteady hands, you snapped a picture of the sight before you. Theo’s arched back, Mattheo with his flushed cheeks stuffed full, watching the man he was pleasuring. 

Click.

At the flash in the room, Mattheo’s focus moved to you, a wicked look flashing in those pretty eyes as he sucked one more time against Theo’s cock, before pulling back. He opened his mouth, tongue out, a picture of perfect filth as he showed just how much come Theo had released, dripping across his tongue. 

Click.

He took the camera from your hands and tossed it to the ground the second the photo was out, leaning down to kiss you messily and share the prize he’d won. Hurried kisses with Mattheo slowed as Theo’s taste seeped away, and your racing hearts all managed to settle.

The three of you lay in the bed, slowly gathering yourselves once again as you came back down from orbit. You were covered in bruises and bites, Theo was covered in your scratches and hickeys, and Mattheo was just a mess. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and weed Mattheo sparked up. Theo uttered a few charms and spells, whatever he could think of as you all basked in the afterglow, sharing the spliff between you.

Curling onto your side when it was finished, you caught Mattheo’s eye over the top of Theo’s chest, the grin he wore told you just how content and satisfied he was with the night’s events. Theo lifted an arm, brushing it through his hair with a heavy sigh, and when he lowered it back down, you caught his hand. 

Lacing his fingers with your own and snuggling in closer, your cheek came to rest on his shoulder as you kissed his knuckles. “That was incredible.” You whispered into the room, the music sputtering out and the lights lowering to fade out with a click of Mattheo’s fingers. 

“We’re doing that again soon, right?” Mattheo asked, prompting tired laughs from both you and Theo. “What? I haven’t even begun to scratch off the bucket list of things I want the three of us to do together.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Menor's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics

Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.

It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.

"Are you ready yet?"

It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.

Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.

Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.

"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"

"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."

Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.

Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.

"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.

"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."

"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."

"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."

"Sounds delightful."

"That's the spirit!"

Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.

He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.

"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"

"So Tio convinced her?"

"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"

He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.

"Gee, I love you too. Typical."

Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.

A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.

"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.

"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."

Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."

She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.

She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.

"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"

You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.

"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"

"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"

"You dressed as me!"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It-It just is!"

Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.

Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.

You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.

"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.

"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"

"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."

Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."

"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."

"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."

"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."

"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."

"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"

"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."

"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."

You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.

"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."

Alexia laughs.

"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"

You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."

[mattslolita]

she - c. & m. sturniolo ( 002. )

in which . . . the new girl down the street catches the attention of two brothers who grow infatuated with her.

( ghostface!chris x black!fem!reader x ghostface!matt )

warnings ; black!bimbo!fem!reader , ghostface!chris , ghostface!matt , obsessive!chris & matt , blood , gore , knives , mentions of death , eventual smut , threesome , dry humping , backshots , bigdick!chris , unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks! )

"o𝒏𝒆, 𝒕𝒘𝒐, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕."

pt. 1, 2, 3, 4 💌

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

it had been three and a half months, and your relationship with chris and matt had blossomed — you had grown extremely close to matt and chris.

you were so oblivious to all the things they'd gotten out of you, every little secret you carried — they let you cry on their shoulder when you did bad on a test, or when someone wasn't so kind to you. and oh, don't let them have found out about the dozens of guys who flirted with you and tried to talk to you. . .they took notice of it all, calculating exactly how they would "handle" each and every guy. hell, even some of the girls who talked to you in that way was watched carefully, and matt and chris didn't hesitate to take care of them, too.

matt and chris never let you out of their sight, either — you were always telling them wherever you went and how long you'd be there. you'd made other friends during your time at school, and if you only knew what they did while you were gone.

multiple pairs of your favorite thongs had gone missing over time, yet you hadn't suspected a thing or knew the reason why; did you ever question why certain people in your class stopped showing up? would you ever notice the small clicks from a camera outside of your bedroom window when you sat alone in your room, in nothing but your bra and panties? looking ever so inviting, freshly out of the shower as you laid back in your bed, small noises of pleasure escaping your lips as you touched yourself to the thought of your newest best friends — oh it was so wrong of you, yet you didn't have any intentions of stopping.

( would you ever have noticed matt outside of your bedroom a night ago, watching you as he too palmed himself through the fabric of his boxers? )

this night in particular, you had finally gotten a chance to wind down from school. your parents were out working late like usual, which left you to the company of yourself. you had grown attached to being with matt and chris all the time, yet you didn't want to bother them by asking them to come over.

instead, you sat against your bedframe, remote in hand as you mindlessly clicked through the tv channels. you had a sliver of your hair between your fingers, curling the dark strands as your mouth was fixed into a pout whilst your eyes stared at the screen with disinterest.

around this time, you were expecting a call from a certain someone — ever since that one day, you'd receive a call from him every two days out of the week. it was wrong to indulge in the mind games of a stranger you didn't even know. . . ( or did you? )

the taboo event was exciting to you, as this is something you've never done before — your parents knew nothing about it, which worked out perfectly, yet it was also odd considering they only seemed to call when your parents were away ( oh poor, innocent you. . . ) you never even confided in your best friends about your secret, finding it embarrassing. ( but what if they knew about it all along? )

a soft sigh escapes your lips and you're about to have given up the tv altogether. . .but as you quickly click off of the news, you're quick to click back, as a headline has your eyes wide with horror.

"reports from an older couple on loomis lane called into the boston police station to report a murder of seventeen year old stephen myers."

a gasp leaves your lips, tears immediately filling your line of vision as you hold a shaky hand up to your mouth, shaking your head slightly. "the poor young man's body was gutted, left hanging from a tree. at the crime scene, forensics and investigators have found a charred mask, its mouth fixed in a permanent scream, symbolizing like something out of a horror movie."

you felt bile threaten to rise from your stomach, the contents you ate from earlier today almost coming up — you knew stephen myers. he was a cute boy in your class who had just asked you on a date that same day. and he was found dead?

"police have issued a city-wide curfew throughout boston, until this ghostface killer has been caught. please stay safe and on high alert. back to you, miss prescott."

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the screen in both shock and utter disgust — how is it that someone you've barely gotten to know had been dead in less than the 24 hours of you knowing them? this instilled fear within you, and you suddenly pulled the covers up close to you.

suddenly, a loud tapping noise startles you, causing a loud shriek to leave your lips as your eyes stare at your bedroom window in complete horror — heart still pumping rapidly, you put a hand on your chest when a familiar set of brown locs are pushed back from his blue eyes, cheshire grin peering at you as he gives you a small wave.

you roll your eyes but suck in a sharp breath, ripping the covers away from you as you quickly bound over to chris at your window.

"you scared me so bad!" you hissed at him, pulling the window up all the way. a breeze sifts past you, causing you to shudder as chris chuckles at your reaction.

"aw, sorry bout' that ma," chris teases you, reaching in the window to poke you in the side. you glare at him unimpressed, crossing your arms across your chest as you mean mug him. he rolls his eyes at your petty behavior, running a hand through his locs as he nods to the window. "kay' fine, sorry, alright? now ya gonna let me in, or what?"

with a heavy sigh, you moved to the side to allow chris access to climb into the window — you watch as his taller frame expertly climbs inside, and every time he does you're so surprised, as it seems like he's done this so many times before.

"have you watched the news tonight?" you ask chris, not facing him as you close your window behind him, "i can't believe it..."

"yeah..." chris answers, but his eyes are scanning your room as if he's been in there for the first time.

he looks over your bed, analyzing the order of your stuffed animals — his eyes then drift over to your desk, eyes intently focused on the order of the little things that lay scattered about the small space. his eyes then flick over to see you standing near your bedroom window, worry filled within your own eyes as you looked out into the looming darkness.

"whatcha thinkin' bout, hm?' chris asks you, flopping down on your bed, leaning back towards the headboard. he motions for you join beside him, licking his lips as he watches you, "c'mere."

a sigh escapes your pouted lips, as you shuffled over to the bed next to chris — his eyes shamelessly rove over your barely exposed bottom half, your ass cheeks almost protruding out of your small, white shorts. the bed dips beside chris, and you sit as close to him as possible. his arm almost instantly comes down to rest over your shoulder, as he grins runs his fingers through your ponytail.

"i just can't believe stephens gone," you whisper, shaking your head.

"i can," chris shrugs, his expression void of any emotion.

your eyes immediately snap over to him pure shock — how could he say something like that about his classmate? you weren't really sure if chris or matt had ever had any problems with any of your classmates, but to completely be nonchalant about someone dying?

"chris!" you hiss, lightly smacking his chest, "how could you say that? that's so messed up!"

"kid was a dick, y/n," chris sighs, running a hand along his face as he slowly turns to face you, "sides', he was always flirtin' with you an' shit. he was a player, too."

your nose scrunches in confusion, as you lean towards chris more as his eyes bore into yours. "wait, what does it matter if he flirts with me or not?"

chris's eyes narrow as he takes his time checking you out from head to toe — your face heats up as his eyes graze from your face, to the bare side of your neck, down to your chest. chris's eyes linger there for a beat longer, and he licks his lips as a small grin takes over his features. your legs instinctively press together, and you find yourself aroused at the way he took his time looking at you.

"look at you, angel," chris whispers, swiping his thumb over your lips as he gently caresses your cheek. his eyes lower to your lips, before they flick back up to your eyes, "nobody fuckin' deserves you."

a soft gasp leaves your lips as chris expertly hoists you up and onto his lap. his eyes never leave yours, predatory gaze locked on you as he holds your hips firmly in his grasp.

your eyes graze over his lips ever so invitingly, and chris smirks slightly as he watches your eyes — his own eyes lock on your lips, and he begins to lean up slowly.

his breath tickles your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut as you both lean in — his lips were soft and warm, and your arms melted together as they wrapped around his neck. you'd never imagined you'd be here in this scenario, kissing one of your best friends, but here you were — and truthfully? you've been wanting this for a long time.

chris's lips are hot on yours, his tongue messily swiping across your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. a low moan leaves past you as chris explores your mouth, his grip on your hips harsh as he groans, rolling your hips down and that's when you feel his erection under you.

a whimper leaves your mouth as you grind down on him, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way your own mouth falls open slightly, as you continue grinding down on him needily.

chris attaches his lips to your neck, nipping and biting on the supple skin there, causing a moan to leave your lips as his hands guide your waist up and down. your panties are now soaked with your arousal, and now all you want is to be filled up with chris inside of you.

"c-chris, please," you whimper out lowly, fingers slightly tugging at his brown locs, causing him to groan on your neck.

"aw what's that, ma?" chris taunts you, sending a smack to your ass as he comes up from your neck, a smirk on his lips, "want me to fuck you, don't ya?"

"yes..." you nod, big eyes staring down at him.

his erection seems to grow larger as he hurriedly takes you off of his lap, standing up at the foot of the bed as he stares down at you — you tilted your head slightly, doe eyes looking up at him in confusion.

"wha-"

"all fours sweetheart, now," chris growls, yanking his pants down. your eyes are immediately drawn to the very large print in his boxers, and you bite your lips as you nod and do what he says.

you took your shorts off, revealing your bare pussy — chris lets out a groan, shoving his boxers off next as his eyes rove over your bare cunt, dripping and waiting to be fucked by him.

you slowly turn around, face down ass up as you await chris's next move — another low grunt leaves his lips as you feel his presence now looming over you, watching you with hungry eyes. a whimper leaves your lips when chris's fingers glide across your pussy, collecting your slick. he slathers it on the tip of his cock, throwing his head back as he runs his hands along the tip of his cock, teasing himself.

"p-please, need you-"

your words are cut off as a moan replaces them, when chris's cock slowly begins to enter you. he lets out a low moan, gripping onto your hips harshly as he slams his own hips into you, ripping a loud moan from you.

"oh gosh!" you cry out, back arching almost immediately as chris pulls out, just to drive himself back into you, "s-so big!"

"that so, sweetheart?" chris groans, wrapping his hands around your throat, pulling your head back so that his face was level with yours, "fillin' you up jus' how you wanted, yeah?"

"y-yes," you moaned, the bed board creaking as chris continued ramming himself inside of you from behind.

the slapping of skin sounded throughout the house, and you were sure the neighbors would hear and probably tell your parents, but you didn't care — the pleasure chris was giving you was so good all your thoughts about getting caught went out the window. the only thing you could focus on how good his dick felt filling you up, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

"fuck, y'so fuckin' tight, ma," chris rambles, driving his cock deeper inside of you, "could be in this pussy all night, baby...feel so fuckin' good, would fuckin' kill anybody over this pussy..."

a loud moan escapes your lips as chris's vulgar words, causing him to narrow his eyes at you with a predatory gaze, watching the way your back arched for him and him only.

"yeah, y'like that?" chris groans in your ear, tugging on your ponytail as his hips snaps into your ass, cock abusing your gummy walls, "want me to kill somebody for ya? y'know i would, angel. would fuckin' murder anybody for you..."

( little did you know, he and matt had already done that earlier today. )

"c-close," you choked out, incoherent babbles leaving your lips as you struggled to keep your head up. tears pricked at your waterline, the pleasure intense as you felt the pressure building up in your stomach.

"gonna fill you up, ma," chris moans, his hand going down to rub circles over your clit. a loud cry leaves your lips as the double pleasure, chris's cock still drilling into your pussy. "c'mon baby, give it to me..."

"chris, chris, chriss..."

his name is like a mantra on your lips as you cum around his cock, decorating the mushroom tip with your arousal — his hips stutter, and you can feel his cock twitching inside of you signaling he's about to cum too. with a few more thrusts, chris's hips sputter as his cock fills you to the brim with his hot, sticky cum, painting your velvety walls a white color of his release. he rides out his high, pulling out of you which causes you to hiss slightly at the overstimulation of your raw, sensitive pussy.

"fuck," chris grunts, running a hand through his now sweaty locs, pulling his boxers up over himself, "y'okay, sweetheart?"

"yeah, i'm good," you nod weekly, looking up at him with a sweet smile causing him to grin.

"bet ya always wanted me to fuck you, huh?" chris smirks, leaning down and planting a kiss to your cheek.

your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, to which he lets out a chuckle — chris gently strokes the side of your cheek, biting down on his lip before he plants another kiss to your lips. "i'll see you tomorrow at school."

"um, okay," you nod again, watching as chris hurriedly goes over to your window.

you watch with your eyes slightly widened as he opens it up, climbing out of the window with ease — he turns to you once more and flashes that famous cheshire grin of his, before disappearing completely into the darkness of your backyard.

you couldn't believe you'd just let one of your new best friends fuck you. but you couldn't deny how palpable the sexual tension had become between you and the both of them, and you just knew it was bound to happen.

( rule #2 : never have sex. it's a gateway to all the rest of the sins. . . )

you let a sigh slip past your lips as you finished cleaning yourself up, putting back on your nightly attire. but before you could tuck yourself back into bed, a loud ring of your landline nearly startles you half to death as you gasp loudly, clutching your chest.

an excited sound leaves your lips as you bite your lip in anticipation — it was surely him. it was foolish of you to continue conversing with a stranger, especially with a psychopathic killer on the loose.

but unfortunately, your naivety took over, and you answered the phone.

"hello, darlin'," the deep voice purrs from the other end, causing you to giggle as you twisted the cord around your fingers.

"hi, you," you say back, looking around your room as you settle your legs underneath yourself, "so what's got you callin' me up tonight, huh?"

"y'see beautiful, the exorcist came on last night, an' it got me thinkin' of us," he tells you, causing a chill to go down your spine.

"really?"

"really," he says, and you found your cheeks warming up once again. "but i'm afraid your best friend might get in the way of us."

"my- what?" you ask him, looking around but this time, it was in panic.

"oh you heard me, doll," he drawls, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice, "could've sworn he jus' left ya house after you fucked, am i right?"

the blood drains from your face upon the realization that you were being watched — a soft whimper leaves your lips as you quickly get up to lock all the windows in your bedroom, and you hurriedly closed the blinds shut. you could hear a sinister chuckle leave his lips on the other line, causing another chill to go down your spine.

"i- what do you want from me?" you begin to sob quietly, putting a hand over your face in shame. how could you have been so naive?

"to see what your insides look like," he snarls, causing a gasp to leaves your lips.

"it's you. you're the ghostface killer."

"so smart doll, look at that," he purrs, causing you to pull your legs up to your knees, rocking back and forth slightly, "now if ya follow my rules, i'll spare your life. how's that sound?"

nothing but a small whimper leaves past your lips, and you can hear him groan on other end. "need to hear your words, sweetheart. now answer the question."

"yes, i'll follow your rules," you nod, "but please don't kill me, mr. ghostface."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

YIPPEEEE ITS HERE !! so sorry it took much longer, had alot going on i fear. BUT I AM SO EXCITED FOR Y'ALL TO READ PART THREE ! what are your predictions??

taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

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@onotsandoys

[tan1shere]

um do you think you could write about billie coming home drunk after partying with her friends with smut ig (IF YOU WANT I LOVEE YOUR STORIES)

Missed You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: ooou coming right up !!!

Summary: you hadn't gone with her tonight and she missed you alot when she comes back home.

Warnings: smutyness, eating out, drunk billie. I think that's it ?

Masterlist

Friday night, and you were home. Alone, seeing as your girlfriend Billie was at an after part for one of the award shows. You sadly couldn't attend either of them, because you had to work, yet you still supported her though. Even if it was through a screen. She had won an award and you were so proud. Still a bit upset you couldn't attend her and the others to the party after.

"You can come when you're done baby." She said, almost pleading. -

She honestly hated these things and only enjoyed them if you were there on her arm. Especially at the events, she adored taking you along the red carpet just to show you off. It was so sweet. You even noticed in a few mini interviews they had asked about you. "Shes working today I'm afraid." She makes a suddened face at the person she was speaking to. Then turns to the camera currently on her. "But I love you beautiful, see you at home." She then proceeds to blow a kiss your way. You smile at your desk feeling so loved by her.

- "It'll be late by then bub, I'd wanna just relax at home." You reply, folding laundry. "Then I won't go to the after party." You look at her. "Baby-" Her head shakes. "There's no point if you won't be there." "Fins going to be there!" She goes to back that up. "With Claudia so I'll be basically third wheeling." You sigh gently. "Baby. Please go have fun." She lets out a small noise. "But I know I won't." You then go over to her, cupping her cheeks. "You don't know that, I'm sure Finneas and Claudia will make it fun."

She now sighs. "Fine fine. I'm gunna miss you though."

That leads you to now, you are laying on the couch, anxiously waiting for her to come back. You had just showered and gotten into your sleepwear, when the door swings open. "Baybeeee." Your brows knit together, turning your head to see Finneas holding her up right. "She drank a bit." He says pursing his lips. You giggle just slightly. "God she's annoying when she's drunk." He says plopping her on the couch. "I was gunna take her back to mine so you wouldn't have to deal with her, but you haven't seen her all day so I decided against it." You smile at him.

"Thanks Fin." He salutes. "Noo, problem." He says shutting the door and leaving to get into his car. "You so totally didn't have fun huh?" You laugh. "I most certainly- didn't. It was boooooring." She says, sinking into the couch. "I missed you." You smile. "I missed you too. I'm going to go get you some water." You say, heading to the kitchen. You try find a glass and fill it up when you feel hands on your waist. "You smell and look so good." She says into your neck. You shake your head a tiny bit. "Bil-" "God you smell amazing." She mumbles into your skin again.

You feel her teeth bite as she sucks. You let out a surprised moan. "Billie-" Your hands move to push her away lightly. "You're drunk baby." She looks at you from head to toe. "You aren't doing anything. It's meee, so it doesn't matter." She gets closer again. "Your breath reeks." Your giggle was to be heard as you keep her at bay. "God you're so fucking cute." She says going to kiss you. You must admit she was extremely hot right now. So you don't stop her.

Her lips were soft mixed with the taste of alcohol. Her hands were all over you as she gets incredibly grabby when drunk. "I love you. I missed you so much." She slurs against your lips. Her hands move to your side, fiddling just slightly with your robe having it almost fall. "Bill-" "Need you. Come on." You bite your lip as it slips off you. "Want a taste, please." You let out a shakey breath as she instantly drops to her knees. "Missed you so much." She kisses your inner thigh gently. "So. Much." You didn't feel real, she was even sexier when drunk. Her tongue feeling amazing.

"Your skin is so soft baby." She then says, moving up to your clothed pussy. Instantly making them drop down your legs. "Everywhere just smells so good fuck." And you feel her tongue finally. It being on you hastily. Your mind races with nothing but her and the feeling. If anything you were the one drunk. The way she always made you feel. "Mmm, Billie-" You moan out, putting your hands in her hair. She looks up at you, the most hungry eyes you've ever seen. You then watch them roll back as your walls tighten around her tongue.

She moans into you, gripping your hips tightly. And within seconds you're cumming hard on her tongue. She swallows everything drinking you dry.

"Now I'm drunk on you." You giggle as she comes up to your face. "I'm your alcohol."

"Yeah you are."

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[retiredteabag]

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6

synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Toji had stayed the night at many women's houses. At some point down the line, he started requesting they order him an Uber or something, but in the beginning, he was hardly at his own place. And for a brief period, when he was in a real desperate situation, he stayed with the women because he didn't have a place of his own.

That's why it's so strange to Toji, to feel apprehensive at staying the night in your home.

You won't even be there, what's it matter? He thought.

But then again, that might be why he's a bit uneasy about the whole thing. You were to be gone three days for a work event. And you had entrusted him with your entire place. He had showered and napped in your house, eaten your food and brought in the mail. He was comfortable to the point it felt like a second (much nicer) home. What he had never done, was stay the night. He certainly hadn't slept in your bed...

You had seemed overwhelmed and uneasy about the situation while walking him through everything. You had been on the opposite side of the kitchen island when you had said,

"I know this is so short notice, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't even supposed to be on this trip, I asked not to go, but the other official called out sick." Your hands made grand and elaborate gestures and your dogs head wobbled as he followed your theatrical hands. "So now, I'm stuck, I have to go." You sounded upset.

"'S not a problem. So, what day does the trash go out, again?" He held back a grin as your shoulders drooped.

"Toji, you're my hero. Thank you. And Wednesday, don't worry if you forget to take it out though."

You had informed him that the dog would probably like it best if he stayed downstairs with him while you were away. Meaning-sleeping in the master bedroom. In your bedroom. On your bed.

Oh...kay...

He shrugged it off as you muttered some, "of course, I'll clean the sheets so don't worry about that..." And explained about the difficult relationship between the dog and the mailman. But he was too caught up in the fact that you were so trusting of him.

There didn't seem to be any uncomfortable air around you, other than your work-related stress around the trip, but you didn't seem to have a problem with this big-ass man spending a few days in at your place.

Toji had lots of appeal, and he had grown to know, the majority of it was sex appeal. And the fact that you clearly had no interest in that aspect of his abilities... made him feel odd. Any time he would throw a compliment at you, you would smile politely, and say something nice about him. Except it was always,

"You're so good at you're job!"

"I'm so glad I can trust you to look after my puppy!"

"I appreciate how efficient you are!"

it made his ears feel hot.

So did the smell of your bedsheets. In fact, your pillowcases had such an effect on him, on that first night you were gone, he found himself rummaging through your things to distract himself.

He meandered through your room, pulling books and sticky notes off dressers and walking through your closet nook. He intentionally did not open any drawers but when he stumbled upon a pair of pajamas lying on a bookcase ladder, he quickly turned around and went to examine the fascinating blanket collection at the foot of your bed.

Staying at your place meant he could sleep in if he wanted to, but that morning he got out of bed earlier than usual. He wasn't going to let his mind wander while lying in the same spot you lay.

He found himself pretending he actually lived in the space. Getting dressed. Feeding the dog. Making breakfast. All in the luxurious home he did not belong in. After some time he realized all of these fantasies included you. He imagined making coffee as you sat across the island, he imagined talking with you, as a normal person, over pancakes, or whatever the hell rich people ate.

Eventually, he had to shake the thoughts from his head as they began to seem too domestic.

One thing that carried throughout the days of your leave, was the photos. You had repeatedly told him to never hesitate to contact you, "And please feel free to send pictures!" So send pictures- he did.

On walks, in the back yard, while booping the dog's nose, after giving the beast a treat. He sent most to you but kept some for himself. You acted as if he was spoiling you with these images of your own canine, the hearted messages and polite, "This really made my day!" stuck with him, when in reality, you were the one spoiling him with how much you had given him for his stay.

Once upon a time, the money he had in his wallet would have already been gone. A real likelihood being that he took the cash and left the dog to fend for itself. Only naive people paid before the service was completed. But he was a different man now. Or so he told himself as he pondered how you must think of him.

You must think highly. To pay so much upfront. You must trust him.

That evening, after walking the dog one last time, he flipped his phone around in his hand while lying down, legs hanging off your mattress. It was late, he was wondering what you were doing and what he should spend his money on when he felt the vibrations of his phone.

He saw your contact pop up and was quick to open the messaging app. What he saw, however, confused him a great deal.

"I would like for you to not involve the police with this. If possible, do keep this event and its handlings between us, I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this."

He sprang up in the bed, his feet planted on the floor as he read and reread your message over and over. Confusion filled him, was this message intended for him? If so, had you discovered something about Toji's past? Or had you mistakenly sent the message to him?

What was this about?

He began to write back, only to stop. He wanted to see if you would alter your text, or confirm your mistake. When you didn't and he could not take it any longer. He responded.

"What event are we discussing?"

Immediately he saw that you had read his reply, and quickly he saw an ellipses appear. It faded quickly. He waited for what seemed like forever, unsure of what to say. "I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this" he knew you had discussed his working for you before with your co-workers before he distinctly told you he wasn't looking for more work.

Sick of all the waiting, he decided to call you. And as soon as the phone rang, it immediately went to voice mail.

Clearly, you had been in a hurry to avoid his call. Unsure of how to proceed, he texted again.

"???"

He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose to pace the bedroom. Finally a message arrived.

"Terribly sorry, that message was intded for my boss. I texted your ontact by mistake."

Toji tried to digest exactly what this meant. He saw the typos in your message and quickly wondered if you had ever been so careless before. He scrolled up to scan previous conversations but decided it was unimportant.

"I see" he began, he wanted to ask what was happening but he knew he wouldn't want anyone prying into him, especially if it involved anything incriminating. He tried to relax himself. Perhaps the comment had nothing to do with him, even so, he decided to call you again to clarify what had just happened.

In a harsh contrast to before, the phone barely had a chance to ring before you picked up. Toji knew he hadn't been thinking straight. But when he saw the call start he realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say. It wasn't but a moment later that he discovered that all of his unanswered questions were irrelevant.

He held the phone up to his ear and heard quick breaths from the other end of the call. What he assumed was a frantic exhale, came out more like a sob as he heard pained whimpers.

"Didn't mean to...sorry about tonight. It was my mistake." You were speaking very slowly, in a calculated sort of way. Still, your voice shook.

Toji was impossibly still as he listened to your voice. "What's going on, y/n?"

That night he would lay in bed, trying to sleep, and realize that this particular moment might have been the first time he used your name intentionally. In the moment, however, he was all too occupied to care. He wanted to come off as gentle and friendly, something he was completely unaccustomed to.

The line went quiet. There was a long pause before a throaty squeak came and a warbled, "...sorry" was heard. Just before the call ended.

Toji began to pace again, he called you once more before he decided that it might be best to not pressure you. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to write a text. But he had nothing to say, he was experiencing confusion and confusion alone.

Turns out, he didn't need to start the conversation again, in your never-ending kindness, you sent, "I'm sorry for all of this, this is a small matter with work at the moment and I did not mean to startle you. I see how it might have come off as concerning. I promise this will not effect you. I'm sorry. Please forget this occurred."

Relief flooded Toji faster than he could question it. So this didn't involve him. But what exactly was happening? He gave your message a thumbs up... but something was still stuck eating at his brain.

"Were you crying just now?" He sent.

He expected a long wait before you responded but, to his surprise you reply was prompt.

"Sorry about that."

And a moment later, "I didn't mean to involve you."

That feeling in his stomach sunk further as he stared at his phone. Unsure of what to say, your dog whimpered at his feet and Toji took a deep breath.

"I wasn't asking for you to apologize" he typed, trying to put his intentions into words. "Are you okay?"

He couldn't remember the last time he had asked someone about their wellbeing. So when you responded,

"Yes. I think so." He found himself slowly walking back to your bed. Staring at the floor as he sat on your comforter. He decided he wouldn't press.

He liked your message.

He laid in your bed.

And he tried to get the sound of your shaky breaths out of his mind.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Next

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taglist is sadly now full! If you ever want to be taken off of the tag list please just let me know :] (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

[choerypetal]

Nap Time. / Mike Schmidt

Summary : You knew Mike ever since moving next door to his. While you were suggesting to look for a job and him in deed for a babysitter, to keep Abby during his night shifts. You accepted even at times to offer overtime, due to the nights at his work being somewhat more difficult than he had thought. Meaning having to also prepare tonight's dinner when Mike went to take a Nap. Warning : None, Just fluff!

Enjoy!

Mike had diligently prepared your paychecks for the past few months. Despite facing personal challenges, he consistently maintained his commitment to honesty. However, as he handed you your paycheck this time, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. His gaze appeared strangely vacant, and he seemed to avoid eye contact, in line with his prior preference for avoiding meaningless, drawn-out conversations. You couldn't help but observe his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles underneath them, signaling that he hadn't enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in quite a while.

Although you offered to stay a little longer, realizing that dinner wasn't ready and Abby was getting ready for bed, he firmly declined, shaking his head nervously, his stuttering making his anxiety apparent. "No–Noo– It’s– Abby can–" It was at this moment that you understood he had lost everything. The memories from that second night at the Pizzeria and the children were haunting him. He began to disconnect from reality, feeling his body temperature rise and sweat bead on his forehead. If Mike wasn't already in a state of torment, he had surely been gone for a long time.

"I insist." You firmly stated, believing in your words this time. Abby, who had been hesitant to peek from outside her room, came over to hug you. Seeing that you were still there, she tugged at the end of your shirt, signaling that you could stay even if her brother had chosen not to. She preferred spending more time with you, especially after all the recent events. While she deeply cared about her brother, she understood that sometimes adults needed their space, particularly when it involved taking Abby away from Mike and into the care of her aunt, who she herself had strongly objected to it. 

Mike observed the two of you, momentarily captivated by how he managed to keep his composure after all he had been through. He let out a sigh, soothingly rubbed his neck, and finally agreed before Abby could voice another protest directly. "Alright, alright. It wouldn't hurt if you stayed a little longer... Maybe  to also getting dinner ready too?"

A smile graced your features as you graciously accepted his request, fully aware of his fatigue. "I'll go take a nap if you... don't mind?" Without waiting for your response, he promptly headed to his room, leaving Abby and you alone in the room. "He's been rather grumpy lately." Abby remarked, her expression conveying her amusement as you playfully ruffled her hair. "Can I help?" She then offered to assist you with dinner, a proposition you welcomed with enthusiasm. "Of course. How about I handle the vegetables, and you mix everything?" Abby's face lit up with delight, and she eagerly took your arm, guiding you both to the kitchen.

The cooking process unfolded smoothly, with you patiently waiting for the spaghetti sauce to simmer according to your mother's cherished recipe, allowing it to develop its flavors over a few hours. As Abby settled in to watch her favorite nighttime comedy shows, you made the decision to rouse Mike from his nap before dinner was ready. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing he was in a somewhat disheveled state.

Carefully entering his room, your eyes wandered around, taking in the old drawings, family photographs, and a few posters that appeared to be recent additions, their sheen reflecting the moonlight streaming in through the window. Moving closer to his slumbering form, you gently brushed your fingers across his cheek, prompting him to emit a few soft whimpers in response to your tender touch. You couldn't help but smile, and as you continued to caress his cheek, you noticed his fingers entwining with yours. Initially, you thought it might be a sign to stop, but he murmured, "Please continue..." So softly that it nearly startled you, caught off guard by his vulnerability.

Mike unmistakably recognized your presence, discerning your perfume's scent and the tender affection you consistently bestowed upon him whenever the opportunity arose. However, tonight felt notably distinct, one of those nights when he needed your support the most. It pained him to see you openly caring for a guy burdened with numerous life problems, yet it was one of the aspects about you that he strangely admired, particularly your strong bond with Abby. As you prepared to rise and apologize for waking him so abruptly, he urged you to do the opposite. "Stay for a little while." he murmured, his words soft and slightly hoarse due to his dehydration, as he struggled to express himself.

In response, you emitted a soft hum and nodded, though you were uncertain if he truly meant it. He gently took hold of your wrist, assisting you in settling on his bed in front of him, his body shifting closer to yours. He rested his head on the crook of your neck, exhaling the familiar scent he had always been infatuated with. Though initially feeling a bit uneasy, you nervously cleared your throat and mentioned that dinner was nearly ready. However, he declined, saying, "Abby will know when to... Just stay here for a while."

You realized that declining wasn't even an option as Mike's arms were wrapped around your waist so tightly that he showed no intention of letting go any time soon. Although the sudden display of affection caught you off guard, you couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy this tranquil moment. Your soft smile graced your lips, and at just the right moment, Mike's eyes opened from his deep slumber, fixing on yours with a quizzical brow raised at the sight of your unexpected smile.

"What's the smile for?" He inquired, though he understood the meaning behind it and pretended not to, instead focusing on admiring every feature of your face. You shrugged, perhaps waiting for Mike to provide an answer, but he insisted that you share your thoughts. "I suppose it's just about sharing this moment with you." You confessed with a gentle smile.

"Is it?" He inquired, adopting a teasing tone, causing your cheeks to flush with warmth in response to the unexpected situation. Despite working as a babysitter for Mike, you had never anticipated or considered the possibility of a deeper relationship, let alone sharing his bed at this moment. As you found yourself also admiring his face, a subtle tingling sensation fluttered in your stomach—a mix of desire and affection for the man who had initially been nothing more than a neighbor.

"It is." You firmly concurred, your smile now more at ease. You couldn't help but giggle at how silly you must have sounded, only to then realize that the man who loved you, perhaps even adored you, had been right there in front of you all along. "I'm glad then..." He whispered softly, gently caressing your cheek. He showed no intention of releasing you for a while, even when he sensed your desire to do so, as the aroma of tomato sauce filled the entire house, signaling that dinner was ready.

"Nuh-Uh." He protested with a playful pout, fully aware of where your attention had swiftly shifted. "Pasta can wait just a little longer, please." He pleaded, emphasizing the word 'please.' His protest was more of a source of amusement than a genuine plea for pity. This time it was more of an theatrical performance, and you understood his intention. Even though you didn't make a strong effort to comply, you decided to stay a little longer, especially when you felt his lips against your skin. “I bet you even taste better than your mom’s spaghetti..” His journey from your neck to your collarbone brought a smile to your lips, intensifying the blush that had adorned your cheeks earlier.

In an attempt to deflect from your deepening blush, you attempted to cover it, but Mike had the time to gently lifted your chin as he turned your body to face him. "Did I ever told you that you look like an angel sent from above?" He boldly stated, making you initially think he might have lost his mind with such a bold compliment. However, you chuckled casually and replied. "I suppose so?" You decided to play along, mimicking the playful banter he had engaged in earlier, feigning innocence with a hint of sarcasm. To your surprise, this seemed to arouse him even more, making him desire you exclusively.

"You know."A familiar and youthful voice suddenly chimed in between the two of you, and Abby's figure peeked into Mike's room. You heard a sigh of annoyance, coupled with a sense of embarrassment, as you both realized where you had been all this time. Mike chuckled, "Yes, yes, Abby. We'll be right there for dinner."

"You heard her," you declared, joining Abby to help her get ready to serve dinner. Just as you were about to rise, Mike couldn't hide a pout, one that compelled you to lean in and press a soft kiss on his lips without hesitation. "Come on, grumpy old man. I'm hungry," you playfully protested, rubbing your stomach and indicating that he wouldn't receive any more kisses if he didn't comply. He sighed but abandoned the idea of keeping you both in bed, realizing his own hunger as his stomach grumbled in agreement.

As you got up and left the room, you glanced back at him with affectionate eyes before finally leaving to join Abby. It was in that moment that Mike fully comprehended the depth of what was happening—sharing his life with someone else, someone he loved and cared for deeply. It was something he hadn't expected, but here you were.

For once, Mike felt a sense of rest and inner peace.