#i found the girl in the blue glass bottle
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benevolentbones · 5 months ago
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Hi ✨️✨️
Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.
your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader
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warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting
word count: 1.7k
a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3
half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.
emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.
“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.
“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.
“reid, you in?”
spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.
“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.
“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.
“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.
“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.
“but-“
“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”
spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.
“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.
“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.
emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.
“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.
everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.
“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.
she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”
“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.
“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.
spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.
“y/n!”
you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.
“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.
“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.
“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.
“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.
“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.
derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.
“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.
“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.
you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.
“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.
“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.
“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.
emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.
“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.
“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.
“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”
“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.
you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.
“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.
“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.
you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.
spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.
he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.
finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.
“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.
he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.
“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.
“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.
“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.
“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.
“a-and do you like being a bartender?”
you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.
“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.
“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.
“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.
“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.
“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.
you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”
“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.
your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.
“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.
“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.
you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.
“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.
“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.
you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.
“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.
“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.
your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.
“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid
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seventiesweetheart · 6 months ago
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𓆩♱𓆪 party monster.
dark! ex bf! rafe x pogue! fem! reader
SUMMARY. in which y/n and the infamous rafe cameron once shared a secret relationship, one that she knew the pogues would be heavily against. and so eventually, after a series of events, y/n decided to break up with him and be done with his toxic behavior once and for all. but while sneaking into some kook’s house party with the pogues, she’s caught by the one person she was hoping not to find.
WARNING. smut, dubcon, a bit of violence, implied toxic relationship, oral (reader receiving), choking, manipulative behavior, jealousy, tons of swearing
A/N. this is the first ever fic i’m posting yaaaay >< just a note that this definitely ended up being way longer than i planned, so i might write a part two tomorrow since it also still feels kind of lacking :( but hope you enjoy!
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it wasn’t easy sneaking in. but with sarah’s help, they managed to slip through unnoticed. and of course, jj wasted no time diving into the kitchen where bottles of booze were scattered like treasure, hence why y/n found herself struggling to maintain control of the situation, fearing that at any moment, someone would eventually realize who they were and the fact that they completely weren’t supposed to be here.
to be honest, y/n never wanted to come here. if anything, the last place she wanted to be after her recent breakup was anywhere near the kooks. yet, as soon as john b and jj heard about the party, they couldn't resist the temptation to crash it in true pogue fashion.
as usual, y/n and ki couldn’t bear the idea of those boys getting their asses kicked again, especially after the millions of times that that happened in the past.
“jj, seriously, that’s enough. this is absolutely no place to get wasted right now. please.” she begged her best friend who was now downing his third bottle and moving along to music.
“god relax y/n, no one’s gonna figure us out, alright? just drink, dance, and we’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”
her eyes bored into him, clearly not believing a word he said, “uh huh, you say that now but—“
“c’mon! just dance with me.” before y/n could protest any more, jj had her by the hand, dragging her out of the kitchen and into the living room. the air was thick with the scent of flavored smoke and alcohol. loud trap music pounded from the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floors and walls, matching the rhythm of her racing heart.
“jesus christ…” the girl muttered, watching jj get lost in the music, his head swinging and hair flying as he danced amidst the throng of bodies.
y/n's eyes scanned around the room, her anxiety mounting with each passing second. sweat slicked her forehead as she continuously looked around the crowd for any familiar faces who might recognize them.
and then she saw him.
his pair of piercing grey-blue eyes locked onto hers, sending a jolt of fear through her body. those same eyes flicked between her and jj, and before she knew it, she felt a chill run down her spine.
rafe cameron lounged on a plush couch, arms draped over the backrest with the usual unreadable expression on his face. next to him was some girl who was bent forward towards the glass table, snorting a line of powder. she raised her head back and pinched her nose, waiting for the rush to hit.
but y/n’s focus was solely on rafe. whoever the girl was didn't matter. either way, rafe’s attention was fixed on her, and she couldn't tell if that excited or terrified her more.
snapping out of the daze, she turned to her best friend again, “jj, we gotta go. rafe’s here.” she desperately tried to tug on her friend’s arm.
“jj!” she yelled over the music and that finally caught his attention.
“what?!” he yelled back, irritation flashing across his face at the sight of her anxious expression.
“we have to go! now.”
rafe never liked jj. throughout their secret relationship, he always thought of him to be a little too loud, violent, and far too carefree. on top of that, he also thought jj was always too close to y/n for his liking.
and y/n knew this. she knew both of them well enough to understand that she needed to act quickly before things escalated and this night became another reminder of why sneaking into this party had been a terrible idea in the first place.
her hand wrapped tightly around her best friend’s wrist as she moved as quickly as she can through the crowd in order to find an exit.
but almost immediately, she felt jj's wrist slip from her grasp. her heart dropped as she pushed through a dense cluster of bodies, the press of people making it hard to move.
"fuck, jj—" she started, her voice barely audible over the pounding music.
but it wasn’t jj behind her anymore. instead, she found herself face-to-face with the same pair of ominous blue eyes she saw earlier. she barely had time to think as she shoved past more bodies.
finally breaking free from the crowd, she found herself at the foot of the stairs. without hesitation, she dashed upwards. it didn’t matter, she was going to find a window and get the hell out of here. kiara would find jj, y/n was sure of it. and pope had to be somewhere downstairs as well.
reaching the second floor, her heart raced even faster. she frantically looked left and right, searching for a room to hide in. she pushed open the first door she came to, only to recoil at the sight of two strangers making out.
“fuck, sorry,” she mumbled, cringing as she backed out and moved to the next room.
she hurried down the hall to the last room, cautiously peeking inside. finding it empty, she slipped in quickly.
but the door couldn’t close behind her.
she attempted to push it again, but it wouldn’t budge. y/n stumbled backward as the door pushed back against her efforts, her breath hitching when she realized it wasn’t any problem with the door—it was rafe on the other side.
“closing the door on me again? i’m starting to think you love doing that.” a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he slowly stepped into the room, his presence making the space more suffocating as he closed the door behind him.
the silence in the room was deafening and the growing tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. y/n definitely did not miss the sound of the lock clicking into place.
she could still hear the music blaring from downstairs, the bass vibrating through the walls and floorboards. or maybe this time it was just her own heart, pounding in her chest as she kept her eyes locked on his. every fiber of her being braced for his next move.
rafe took a step closer, his gaze never wavering from hers. the dim light cast shadows across his face, making his expression even more unreadable.
she never expected for this situation to happen again, wherein they would be both locked in a room and none of her friends were even slightly aware of the fact that they were alone together. every instinct screamed at her to run, but she stayed rooted at her spot.
“not running this time?” he inched closer, his voice a low and threatening.
“i know you won’t hurt me.” it sounded like a whisper, as y/n back slowly to the desk behind her.
rafe scoffed, “you say that but i see you still trying to escape from me.”
y/n glared at him, defiance flickering in her eyes “well, what do you expect? for me to run to you?”
his glare intensified, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he moved closer. but then, in a flash, his expression softened.
“i missed you, you know?” his tone turned manipulative, a tactic she recognized all too well from their relationship. she had fallen for it many times before, but she wasn’t going to this time. “i really did, y/n… we were so perfect together and you-you just left without giving me the chance to explain myself.”
“well, i don’t think any more could have been said after you beat the fuck out of my best friend, don’t you think?” y/n's voice grew more aggressive, her anger flaring.
“yeah well he hit me too! and what’d you do? nothing!” he yelled, and she flinched at every word, her body tensing as she tried desperately to find an escape from the suffocating situation.
his breathing grew heavier as he looked at her with pain and frustration in his eyes, “you said you loved me but-but you didn’t even come to defend me.”
“rafe… you started that fight and i-i told you if you laid a hand on any of my friends then that would be the end for us.”
“god, fuck!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. rafe's hand shot out, knocking the floor lamp until it crashed to the floor with a loud shatter, fragments of glass scattering across the hardwood.
y/n flinched, raising her arms to shield herself as she inched closer to the corner where the bed was.
“it’s always you and those fucking friends of yours.” he spat, his face contorted with rage.
and before she could even process his movements, his hand was on her throat, pulling her forcefully towards him. she gasped, feeling the pressure against her windpipe, her fingers clawing desperately at his chest in an attempt to break free.
but even in her panic, she couldn't ignore the familiar sensation of his solid chest beneath her hand.
“and now, let me guess, you’re moving on to that fucking blonde you claim to be your best friend.”
“jj really is just my best friend! p-please, rafe. let go of me.” y/n pleaded as she fought the urge to look at how close his lips were from hers instead of holding the weight of his intense gaze.
“see, that’s where you’re wrong, y/n. i’ve never let you go, and i’m not fucking letting you go now or ever.”
his lips crashed down on hers, the kiss intense and demanding, leaving her gasping for air as she struggled to keep up with his pace. his other hand found her waist, pulling her closer against his body.
“r-rafe…” the moan she tried to hide escaped freely from her lips, coming out as a breathless whisper as his lips trailed down to her neck, no doubt leaving a trail of marks.
“god, l-let me go.” y/n weakly pushed him while he backed her up towards the bed.
“you say that, but your body tells me otherwise. you’ll have to tell me what you really want, sweetheart.”
he continued to suck on her skin, marking her with dark red and purple bruises as his hands trailed down to the hem of her floral sundress. slowly, he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric until he was hooking one side of her lacy underwear.
“still haven’t answered my question, y/n. or do you seriously want me to fuck it out of you?”
his eyes locked onto hers with growing frustration and need, “just fuck me, rafe.”
finally, the mischievous smirk returned to his face, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he leaned in closer.
despite her initial reluctance, y/n lifted her hips, allowing him to easily pull her underwear down until it hung around her ankles.
her hand grew clammy as she clutched the sheets beneath her, her breath catching in her throat as she lay staring at the ceiling.
meanwhile, rafe moved his hand back up her thighs, brushing her skirt up slowly to tease her until the fabric pooled at her waist. she could feel the air around them mixing with his breath against her skin, making her exposed wetness grow colder.
“d’you let anyone get near this after you left me?” his voice came low and deadly as his fingers played at her entrance, sliding against the slick liquid between her lips.
y/n whimpered at his touch, trying to hide her face with her hand while she shook her head in response.
“use your words, princess.”
“n-no, i didn’t.” she stammered out, her breath hitching as she felt his finger plunge through her hole.
satisfaction evident in his voice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin, “good girl.”
her eyes shut tightly as soon as she felt his lips wrap around her soft bud, tongue lapping over and over it, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body.
“w-wait, rafe! slow down!” she groaned, her hands moving to tightly clutching his hair, her body trembling with the overwhelming sensation.
but rafe didn’t slow down, his hands holding her legs firmly in place before they tried to snap shut and he continued running his tongue over her clit, his warm saliva mixing with her wetness, making his actions even sloppier and faster.
“sh-shit, i’m close—rafe, please.” she begged, her voice thick with desperation. her hips moved involuntarily, seeking more friction and intensity, driving her to buck her hips against his face, urging him to keep going.
her fingers pulled his hair as she arched her back, and rafe buried his face deeper between her legs, his hands gently and possessively molding her thighs like they were lovers. like they never broke up and she had always belonged to him all this time.
“come for me, princess. c’mon.” he voiced breathlessly, the tip of his tongue tracing maddening circles around her bud, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.
it was all too overwhelming for y/n. she felt her orgasm building up, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to engulf her completely.
“fuck, rafe!” she moaned, her entire body tensing as her release crashed over her in waves, leaving her breathless and shaking.
rafe wasted no time in savoring all her juices, his lips and tongue eagerly lapping up every drop as they poured onto the sheets of some stranger's bed.
with gentle kisses kisses trailing along her inner thighs, he moved up to face her, delicately wiping the sweat off her forehead and gently brushing her hair out of her face.
still recovering from the intensity of her climax, y/n struggled to catch her breath as she locked eyes with him. the full weight of her actions had yet to sink in but she pushed the thought aside for later as his lips came down again to meet hers, softly grazing the bottom with a gentle nip.
“finally remember who you belong to, sweetheart?”
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© 2024 seventiesweetheart | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.
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silent-stories · 8 months ago
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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒
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Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader
Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.
Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.
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Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.
Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.
He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.
The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.
His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.
The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.
The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.
Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.
Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.
Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.
He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.
The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.
Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.
Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.
His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.
The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.
"What the hell..."
The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.
"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.
"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"
The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.
The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.
A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.
“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.
Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.
Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.
“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”
"I-I'm sorry-"
“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.
"Clean up." Al ordered.
Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.
The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.
"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."
"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.
Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.
"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."
Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.
He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.
He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.
The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.
That was the case for several days.
The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.
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"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”
The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.
You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.
"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."
You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.
"Hey!" He complained.
"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"
"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.
You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.
“It depends, are you done with those?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."
When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.
You never do anything right
Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.
After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.
His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.
His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.
“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."
You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.
He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.
What is wrong with you?
Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.
Useless, fucking useless.
"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.
He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.
Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.
"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."
Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.
You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.
"But-"
“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”
Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.
Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.
He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.
His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.
“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”
Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.
He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.
In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.
When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.
When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.
His dad was no longer part of his life.
You were. And you loved him.
Eddie didn't need anything else.
A "thank you" was whispered during the night.
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Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea
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rrat-king · 8 months ago
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some Bad Girls accesory headcannons:
adaine
doesn't need glasses but wears blue light ones because the light gives her migraines. the glasses are round silver wire frames that she has broken and cast mending on too many times
she loses her glasses constantly so gorgug made her a glasses chain so they can just hang when she's not wearing them. it has little star charms and blue and silver beads
it's my hc that adaine didn't actually give kristen her pinky back, keeping the philange instead so she has the bone on a little necklace she wears. its morbid but sweet.
she has a leather book holster that ayda made her after she complimented her's so that they are matching. keeps her spellbook in it
has three bracelets from kristen: a red rubber 'vote for applebees' bracelet as well as two woven friendship bracelets, a purple and blue chevron as well as a orange white and blue striped
elf ears are... so stupidly sensitive so she has a hard time wearing earings but she does steal fig's ear cuffs a lot
kristen
wears dog tags with jawbone's number as her emergency contact in case anything happens. he doesn't legally have custody but its a safe way of making sure he gets called over her parents
got her septum peirced with fig in leviathan, was originally a silver barbell but had to take it out when she realized the silver meant that tracker wouldn't kiss her, so wears a little golden hoop instead
has six trillion bracelets. most of them are friendship bracelets she's made herself, but she also has a rubber sig figs bracelet, a pony bead bracelet that says 'little shrimp' as well as a 'WWCD?' she made with her campaign rubbers
bad at wearing rings but has a number of them that she keeps on a carabiner that tracker got her (most of them found in the river while throwing rocks with riz. don't ask her why there are so many lost rings in the river she doesn't question it)
she got rid of her cross necklace after meeting helio but still has the saint necklace she got at first cornmunion. it's saint iree, patron saint of the lost harvest
fig
has one of gorthalaxes guitar picks as a necklace along with a million others
wears rings around her horns, most of which she makes herself but fabian gifted her a few of his that he doesn't wear cuz 'they interfere with my fighting, thank you' that are nice elven gold
has a matching septum with kristen as well as a million other peircings
she. loves. mixing. metals. she wears a million pieces of jewelry and they are all mishmashed but because none of it matches it works
constantly stealing her mom's earings. it drives sandra lynn crazy
hardcore believer in scrunchys over hairties. always has one either in her hair on on her wrist even they somewhat clash with her aesthetic.
wears compression gloves under her fingerless gloves to help with her joints swelling
has a million pins including: some of her mom's old band pins that she let her have, band pins of her own, kristen's campaign buttons as well as kipperlillys but she doodles over those, pins she's made herself out of bottle caps, a little tin skateboard pin gorgug made her, and a red compass pin that ayda gave her that belonged to one of the previous ayda's
(will make one for the boys eventually when i have time to come to terms with riz's new found accessory addiction this season)
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somethinginthewayiam · 4 months ago
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The girl behind the bar (Part 3)
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pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader
warnings: banter, fluffy Jake (if you squint)
words: 3.3k
Summary: Jake brings a date to the bar and she is not, well, the nicest person alive. Which is kind of expected of him but still annoying. Thankfully, Maverick convices Penny to close the bar early to sneak off and you close up. You start singing along to your playlist while you cleaned up, thinking you're alone at the bar...
a/n: The songs used in this chapter are Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC and Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, if you want to listen to them while you read.
Link to my masterlist
"Can I play something for you, Darlin'?", Jimmy asked on his way to the storage room, passing the Jukebox. The bar had just opened and you and Jimmy were holding down the fort until Penny was supposed to come in later that evening.
"Could I have some Hall & Oates, please?", you mentioned with a smile. "I got you", the old man smiled and pressed some buttons on the old machine.
You make my dreams come true started playing.
"Oh Jimmy, you know me too well", you cooed at him, betting your eyelashes and shooting him a smile.
You started to sing along to yourself while you polished some glasses and put the beer from the box into the cooler. As you were crouched down, you didn't see a new patron approaching the bar.
"You make my dreams come true", you sang as you got up and suddenly found yourself face to face with a grinning Hangman.
"Only if you're a good girl", he said, accompanied with a cocky smile. "Barf", you said dryly and rolled your eyes.
You checked the big clock on the wall behind him. 5:10 PM. "It’s Tuesday, do you not have a job?", you simply asked.
"So, just anybody can give you a nickname but me?", he ignored your question and asked his own. For a second, you didn't know what he meant, but then you remembered that Jimmy had called you Darling just before. You were already so used to him calling you that.
"By god, she's got it! Good job, Eliza Doolittle", you mockingly cheered him on, booping his nose with your finger. He flicked your finger away like it was an annoying fly.
“What can I get you?”, you asked him. “The usual”, he simply stated and put his credit card on the counter, his typical sign to open his tab for the night. “So, a Tet-shot and the morning after pill for whoever fell for your bullshit?”, you suggested and gave him the sweetest smile. “What do you think of me?”, he asked playfully shocked, a hand on his chest.
“Only the worst”, you told him as you put the bottle of beer in front of him and the smile on your lips took the harshness out of your words. He shot you another wink as he grabbed his drink and left for the darts board.
You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but your shift was always more fun when Hangman was around. Someone to look out for, someone to be excited to see. That this was all just one-sided wasn't even a question to you. Every time you felt that way about someone, as annoying as they might be, it was always one-sided. And even on the off chance it wasn't, you never dared to ask and nobody ever came forward. So, as always, you shot him another glance and kept on working.
Later that evening, the others arrived at the bar, too, as always gathering at the pool table. You brought over a trey of beers that the group had ordered.
"There you go. Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Eliza", you said as you placed the last beer in front of Hangman.
Fanboy almost did a spit-take as he had just taken a sip of his drink. "Excuse me, what?", Phoenix asked and she didn't do a great job at suppressing her laughter.
"Just a little inside joke we got, don't we, Lizzie?", you turned to Hangman. He chose to remain silent but the look he gave you let you know that you were gonna pay for that joke at some point.
But for now, you took the win of shutting him up.
For a Wednesday night it was surprisingly full at the bar and Jimmy was not in after requesting a sick-day. You and Penny had your hands fulfilling all the orders. Even though you had some practice by now, you were still lacking in speed compared to Penny.
You spotted your usual group at a table in the middle of the bar, letting other people play pool for once. But you noticed that Hangman was missing tonight. It was odd to you, but you didn’t think much of it.
Until he came in at around half past 9 with a tall blonde on his arm. She was dressed in an expensive-looking short dress and looked totally out of place between the khaki uniforms and informal clothing on all the other patrons. She looked like the type country club, my daddy bought me a horse for Christmas kind of girl. The Hard Deck was clearly Hangman’s idea, who was not wearing his khaki uniform for once but a black pair of jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If you didn’t already know him as part of the bar’s interior, you would also find his appearance here out of place.
Your eyes followed the pair to the table of Hangman’s colleagues, his date getting introduced to the others. They all exchanges polite smiles and hellos. When the woman sat down, she let her eyes wander over the place, looking a little disgusted. You could tell that this was not the place she thought the night would bring her to. She took off her cardigan and hung it over the back of her chair before she even attempted to lean back.
There was no use of prolonging the wait, you would have to get over there to take their order. Also, the glasses of the others looked rather empty as well. You took a deep breath and walked over to the full table.
“Welcome to the Hard Deck. What can I get you?”, you welcomed the woman and smiled at her politely. She looked up at you with an annoyed face. Her eyes let you know where your place in her world was. You were the help.
“Do you have anything here that costs more than 10 dollars?”, she asked and the tone in her voice could only be described as disgusted. “I can sell you everything for at a least twenty if you prefer it”, you commented, trying to knock her ego down a peg. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any practice with Hangman.
You heard some suppressed chuckles from the others but kept your eyes on Hangman’s date. “Excuse me? You better watch your tone or I’ll will have to talk to your manager”, she snapped at you. And she couldn’t take a joke. Great taste, Hangman.
You swallowed and took a moment to calm yourself before you spoke again. “I apologize. We have a very good Chardonay you might like, Karen”, you said to her instead but couldn’t help yourself at the end. Another round of chuckles behind you. “My name is not Karen, it’s Whitney”, she told you and her tone got more indignant. She looked over at Hangman, looking for support of her outrage.
“She will have the Chardonay and I’ll have a beer, please”, he said, ignoring his date. You nodded and then turned to the others. They ordered another round of drinks and you basically fled towards the bar.
Penny was overrun by a new group that had just entered the bar and you helped her out before you prepared the drinks for the table and brought them over there.
“Here’s your Chardonay”, you said and placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. “About time”, she only mumbled, no Thank you or even eye-contact. Lovely girl, you thought to yourself.
“Here’s your beer”, you placed the bottle in front of Hangman. “Thank you, Y/N”, he said and shot you a smile. You looked at him a little weirded out. The please before was already a little out of character for him.
“What?” he asked innocently. “Nothing, you’re just weirdly nice”, you simply said and kept placing the drinks in front of the guys. “I’m always nice”, he countered and a little mischievous glimpse was back in his eyes as he followed your round around the table. “Oh yeah, I’m always so touched by the empathy you display every time you’re here”, you said and put a hand over your heart, pouting your lips, holding the empty trey in your free hand and letting it hang down your side.
Whitney watched your exchange with a watchful eye and put her hand on his thigh, seemingly displaying some sort of ownership. “Do you come here often, Jakey?”, she asked the man to her left, a warning tone in her voice not to say the wrong thing. Whatever that may be. You and Phoenix exchanged a glance over the heads of the others, both of you biting down a smile.
“No, Darling, only when these knuckleheads drag me here. They can’t have fun without me”, Jake told her and she seemed satisfied with his answer. “We drag him here?”, Coyote whispered to Payback, who was sitting right in front of where you stood.
“It’s true, he’s not here often, but he certainly leaves an impression”, you chimed in before anyone could say something. Hangman looked up at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to say something compromising or silently thanking you for having his back in this lie.
“Alright, just yell for me if you need anything else”, you said and finally left their table. It was getting uncomfortable and you were glad that you had a good reason to get out of there. After looking at some of the faces of the guys you could tell that they were just as uncomfortable.
“Come on, Penny. We’ll just sneak out of here”, you heard Maverick say as you came back to the bar circle. “I can’t just leave, not when it’s that packed”, you heard your boss answer but the tone of her voice let you know that she actually wanted to.
“I can finish the evening”, you just entered their conversation and they both shot up like they were planning some secret mission. “No, you can’t handle this many people on your own”, Penny said and took a look at the still pretty well filled bar. “No offense”, she quickly added. “None taken, you’re probably right”, you said and scanned the bar as well. “But you can close early”, you suggested.
“That’s right”, Maverick agreed and you both looked at Penny with raised eyebrows. Your boss looked at your faces and chewed her bottom lip. “It’s your place, you run the show”, Maverick added. You nodded agreeingly. You also wouldn’t mind to get off early. “I’ll clean up, I can definitely manage that”, you offered. “She’ll clean up”, Maverick repeated. Penny contemplated for a few more moments, then she sighed defeatedly.
“Okay, I’ll close early”, she gave in and you and Maverick high-fived. Penny walked over to the bell and rang it. “Last call!”, she shouted and a common groan erupted from the crowd. “Alright, settle down. It’s still my bar”, she added and waved off their protests.
While you were handing out the last drinks of the night, Penny asked repeatedly if you were okay to close up on your own and you waved it off. “I’m working here, aren’t I? And I have to learn sometime. You don’t always want to stay ‘til last call, don’t you?”, you said. She answered you with a smile and handled the register.
When everybody was finally out and Penny had left with Mav, you were suddenly alone. It was weirdly quiet compared to before when the room was filled with people. So, you took out your phone and put on your Spotify playlist while you started to clean up.
You collected glasses and bottles from all over the place. You even found a cardigan on the chair that Hangman’s date was sitting on. You grabbed it to put it behind the bar for when she came back for it. It was a warm night though, so she probably wouldn't notice right away. The urge to wipe the counter with it was almost overwhelming. Instead of following the urge, you placed it somewhere safe as it looked expensive and was probably worth more than your month’s salary.
You continued cleaning up and started to sing along to the song that was currently playing. It was Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC, one of your favorites.
“But when we talk in the middle, in the middle of the night. Oh, we get closer every time. But when we meet in the middle, I feel the clarity rise. Oh, it moves over, straight from your eyes”, you sang as you put the glasses in the basket for the dishwasher. It wasn’t like singing Karaoke with friends or the impromptu concert with Rooster a couple of weeks ago. You got really into it since you were all alone and nobody could hear you.
“Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh. Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh”, you kept singing and grabbed the dishtowel to wipe down the counter
“I actually have green eyes”, you heard from the door and you jumped in surprise. You spun around to where the voice had come from only to find Jake Hangman Seresin of all people standing there.
Shit, did he hear you sing? He must have. Why else would he say that?
“Jesus Christ, you scared me”, you said as you put a hand over your heart that was racing like crazy. You turned away from him again, seemingly to finish wiping off the counter and putting the damp towel back in the small sink behind the bar. You mostly needed a moment to collect yourself. You felt so embarrassed that he had heard you sing. You thought you were all alone for the rest of the night, singing like you only did when you thought no one would hear you.
You heard his steps coming closer, resting his underarms on the bar top when he arrived across from where you were standing. You turned down the music on your phone.
“You have a beautiful voice”, he said and as much as you looked for it in his face, you couldn’t find any hint of mockery. Hangman and an honest compliment? Were you in the Upside Down?
“Thanks”, you said, still startled, and blushed a bit. “What are you doing here? We’re closed”, you asked, still in disbelief that he was nice to you. “My date forgot her cardigan”, he finally disclosed why he was back here so soon. “Ah, and she doesn’t put out if she doesn’t have her precious cardigan?”, you said and a smile creeped on your face, revealing the joke. “The chances are better with it”, he answered, also with a smile, indicating that he wasn’t here purely out of a gentlemanly gesture.
“I’ve got it here”, you said and walked the few steps over to where you put it for safe keeping. You handed him the garment and when he took it from you, his fingertips brushed along your fingers. You were sure he didn’t even notice it, but it sent an electric jolt up your arm.
As soon as he had it in his hand, you pulled your arm back, putting your other hand over the one Jake had just touched, folding it in front of you. Your fingers still tingled. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself for this stupid reaction.
“Thank you”, he said, glad that it hadn’t got lost somewhere else. “Now you can be her knight in shining armor when you bring back her precious cardigan”, you said with a chuckle and grabbed the broom from behind you. You came around the bar to sweep up the peanut shells that were scattered all over the floor. “And you’re Cinderella?”, he asked jokingly, nodding at the broom. “Yeah, well, there are other balls, I’ll dance another time”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders and a light smile.
Jake looked at you for a moment before he lifted his hand for a goodbye. “I’ll see you around, have a good night”, he said. “Yeah, you too”, you answered.
You didn’t wait for him to leave the room, you turned around and turned the music louder on your phone again. Your playlist had kept playing while you talked to Jake. Now it played Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, a slow song. The mood to sing along was gone anyway, you were too afraid someone else would show up again.
You started moving the broom over the floor but you only managed to get about three sweeps in before you felt a hand on your shoulder. When you looked up, it was Jake again. Without saying a word, he took the broom out of your hands and leaned it against the bar.
He grabbed your right hand with his left and put his right hand on your lower back. You looked at him with big eyes, too stunned to speak.
“You get your dance now, Cinderella”, he winked at you and started to sway you to the slow music. With his hand on your back, he pushed you closer to him and slowly moved both of you in a circle.
You were aware of every single spot where your bodies touched, beginning with his big, warm hand clasping yours. You were afraid he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.
He removed his hand from your back only to have you spin around which made you giggle lightly and then pull you back in, even closer this time. He put his hand which was holding yours against his chest, pulling your arm with his. He put his hand on top of yours which meant your hand was placed directly on his heart. You felt how hard his peck was beneath his shirt and swallowed. You looked up only to find those green eyes of his looking down at you. He held your gaze while he moved your bodies slowly from side to side. His hand on your back slid a little lower but you almost didn’t notice it because you were so hypnotized by his eyes. Almost.
“Bedsheets, no clothes. Touch me like nobody else does” came out of the speakers of your phone and you suddenly became very aware of the lyrics of the song. It made you swallow hard. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. Did he notice the lyrics, too?
His fingertips felt like they were burning through your shirt, leaving permanent marks on your skin. Instinctively, you licked your lips. Jakes eyes darted down to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.
You both got snapped out of your stare as the broom fell over and hit the floor with a loud bang.
As soon as the moment had come, it was over again. The song drained out as the two of you stopped moving. Like you were both snapping back to reality, you let go of each other.
You opened your mouth and inhaled to say something but you didn’t know what, so you closed it again. Was a Thank you appropriate? Did that mean anything? Did he just want to be nice? But Hangman wasn’t nice. Your head was spinning as all kinds of thoughts invaded your brain.
Hangman looked at you for a second longer, then turned around, grabbed his date’s cardigan off the bar top and left the bar for good this time.
With shaky hands you grabbed the broom off the floor and held on to it for dear life. Your heart was still pounding rapidly. You weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if it was just a day-dream of yours if it wasn’t for the hand you still felt on your back like an echo. That was something you couldn’t dream up.
Next chapter: Part 4.1
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distantdarlings · 1 year ago
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PARTY MONSTER // m. riddle
RATING: R / 2K words
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details, though mentioned that the reader is wearing a dress)
+ SUMMARY - You are invited to a Slytherin dorm party but cannot seem to find your friends anywhere. Your search is interrupted when someone else finds you. (Smut)
+ WARNINGS - Language, tension, sensuality, heavy kissing, petting, implied oral sex but not described, dom!Mattheo
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Party Monster - The Weeknd
---
The music overhead pounded throughout the stone halls. Dark green and blue lighting was strung from every possible hanger that could be found. A few green-flame candles hung suspended in the air above your head. The entire enormous room was coated in the house’s rich color.
Frankly, you were surprised none of the staff had been called down to see what the hell was going on. You figured one of the older students had put some kind of muting spell around the whole common room to keep everything private. The Slytherin common room was vast and intricately decorated. You’d only been inside of it a few times. Though students were not supposed to go into common rooms other than their own, you had been snuck in a couple of times for study sessions with some of your Slytherin friends. Because of this, you were a bit more comfortable finding your way around. 
You weaved through the dancing crowd, brushing past sweating, swaying bodies. You were dressed just about like everyone else but you still worried you stood out like a sore thumb. The general feeling of not belonging made you a bit nervous. Nobody had ever told a professor when you had been in here before but you couldn’t help but keep your head down as you looked for your friends. 
Since there were no classes tomorrow, you had agreed to come to this party, though you were now wondering if it was a mistake. The burning stench of firewhisky found its way to your nostrils, making your eyes water slightly. Somehow in your journey to track your friends down, a glass of the strong stuff found its way into your hand. You sighed in defeat and raised the cup to your lips. Hopefully, it hadn’t belonged to someone else.
After another few minutes of wandering aimlessly, you had just about given up on finding your friends when a set of long, dark fingers slid their way around your waist to the front of your stomach. You laughed at the slightly ticklish feeling and turned around.
“Emily, I’ve been looking—oh!” The smile on your face faded. Before you stood the exact opposite of your best friend. A darkened boy with an intoxicated smirk on his face. His eyes hung low almost like he was tired and his lips appeared slightly swollen. The hand not around you cradled a full-sized bottle of firewhisky. You willed your eyes not to widen as he tilted the ashen bottle back. His lips curled determinedly around the mouth of the glass container, the suction from his drinking forming a dark bleed around his lips. So that was why his lips were so swollen, you thought. Your eyebrows screwed together as you pushed that thought away from your mind.
“My name is not Emily,” the boy smirked, his hand falling away from your waist as you turned. 
“I know that—I’m sorry, I thought you were my friend,” you tried to explain. You struggled to pull your eyes away from his black ones, yet no matter how hard you tried, they just seemed to drag you deeper into them. 
“You know who I am?” he asks. You knew who he was. Mattheo Riddle. He was infamous within the walls of this castle. Everyone knew who he was. They knew his attitude, his friends, or his body and you happened to know all three. By acquaintance, anyway. A girl that sat behind you in your Herbology class had—apparently—slept with him a few months ago and had managed to describe everything about him. She, fortunately, did not leave out a single detail and that, along with seeing Mattheo in the hallways on the way to class, had been the subject of your fantasies for a while now. 
You finally pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your painted nails. He got around often and quickly and you knew that. He wasn’t actually interested in you, he—
His fingers gently slipped beneath your chin. He tilted your face up to look back at his. Your eyes fluttered as you struggled to not look away. It was honestly hard to look straight at him. The expression on his face and the firewhisky beginning to broil in your system started to make this whole situation seem better and better. What had you been saying? He wasn’t actually interested in you? He was just a player?
His tongue slipped between his lips to gently wet them. He never broke eye contact with you. Your eyes glanced down at the bottle in his free hand. He caught the change in your line of vision and chuckled darkly.
“Head back, love,” he cooed, pushing your chin back slowly and raising the bottle. 
You were not going to fuck this boy.
***
His room was dark and smelled lightly of candle smoke and something rather…earthy. Mattheo walked past the extinguished fireplace on the left wall and further into the room. You felt his fingers unfurl from yours as he tossed his wand onto the bedside table, the wooden object hit the surface with a clatter. He whispered something and the fire to your left erupted in flames. It was bright and too warm for your liking but the boy it illuminated was cut like David.
Mattheo walked back over to you. His softly carved fingers traced slowly up your arms. Though you wore a long-sleeved dress, you could still feel the boy’s fingertips through the material. A shudder passed through you as his eyes found your lips. 
He pressed his hand tightly against the small of your back, pulling you close against his body. You recognized this position as the one that he had done while he was dancing out in the common room only moments before. Your hips melded against Mattheo’s as you let him roll you back. You closed your eyes as you allowed Mattheo to support you, your hands clutching the collar of his white shirt. You felt your back crane against his hand, as the boy pressed his head in the crook of your neck. You hid a smile as your fingers slid in his curled hair. His lips and tongue found purchase against your soft skin. Your fingers tightened in the strands and didn’t release when he groaned against your neck. 
It was endearing how Mattheo seemed to incorporate sex into everything, but you knew it was probably more of a teenaged-boy-hormone thing rather than an artistic thing. Mattheo was an experienced boy, that much was clear, but you weren’t. You’d never gone further than kissing but the way that Mattheo moved your body within his hands made you feel like you’d always known. Like you’d always felt that rhythm that Mattheo kept in his body. Maybe that was a bad thing, but at this moment you didn’t care. Mattheo’s lips against your skin and the firewhisky in your blood seemed to dull a lot of caution.
He pulled you as close to him as you would go. Your lips trembled as the boy walked you backward to his bed, molding his red lips against your chest. You weren't sure how you felt about this, feeling a boy's touch and wanting more. If your parents knew what you were up to right now, they'd murder you but this was your small way of rebelling against them. You were a young student, for Merlin’s sake, you figured it was time for you to have a little fun. Being magical was the greatest thing that ever happened to you, but now you wanted to experience a little bit of mundanity as well. No magic, no spells, no potions, just your bodies moving together.
"K—" you breathed out, your chest shuddering beneath the pressure of the other's closeness.
"What?" Mattheo asked, his eyes flicking up to yours.
You looked into his eyes, wanting nothing more than to fall into them. You wanted to fill the brunette's arms wrapped around you and his cold lips on your chest. You wanted to feel his heartstrings wrap around your throat and suffocate you. You no longer cared about any consequences at the moment, you just wanted him.
"Kiss me." 
Mattheo exhaled shakily and pressed his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his firm fingers. You wrapped your arms around his neck, attempting to be closer to him in any way possible. 
You felt Mattheo’s hands fall away from your back and slip beneath the underside of your thighs. You let out a gasp as he lifted you off the ground and pressed you to the wall just beside his bed. The feeling of the stone behind you and Mattheo’s rough body in front of you made you shudder with delight. Your legs tightened around his waist, pressing his belt buckle tightly against you. Black spots appeared at the corner of your eyes.
The brown-haired boy's lips melded perfectly with your own, allowing you to see that this was what you wanted. 
You unwrapped your legs from the other's tight waist, placing your feet gently on the floor. You pushed Mattheo backwards and over to the bed. The boy fell against it and allowed you to straddle his hips.
“Baby,” he let the word slide out slowly as your hips slid against his. His head tilted back against the bed, exposing his throat so perfectly to you. You laid down against him and bruised his throat. If Mattheo was a player, you were the end to that. Every touch and whisper of a breath against his bare skin had him keening for you like you were oxygen and he was drowning. 
He pulled your lips back to his own, feeling the way your chest pressed so beautifully against his own. You let out a small moan at the taste of Mattheo’s tongue.
He brought his fingers up to your hair, burying them within the soft strands. Your chest rumbled against Mattheo’s at the feeling of the boy gently tugging on your hair. He chuckled meanly at the reaction he pulled out of you. His fist suddenly closed tightly around your hair, yanking your head to the side. You whined at the sudden pain in your scalp as he rolled the two of you over.
The brunette's hands quickly traveled down to your waist, pulling the hem of your dress up to your waist. His nimble fingers found their way to the thin panty straps on either side of your hips. The white lace contrasted gorgeously with his honeyed skin as his fingers curled the fabric tightly within themselves.
“Don’t rip those,” you growled when the tension being applied to the fabric started to become too much. 
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he responded in the same tone.
“Mattheo, I’m serious—they were fucking expensive,” you gripped the hair at the front of his scalp, holding his head back to look you in the eye.
“All for me?” he whispered, his fingers still not releasing the straps of fabric. 
“All for whoever was going to get it tonight,” you joked, warning him with your eyes. “You think you’re special?” 
His eyes darkened at my words. I was lying through my teeth. He was special and, truly, had been the reason you dressed up for tonight. You’d already been crushing for months, so you figured it was time to try and act on it a bit. If it didn’t work, you’d drop it and move on. But if it did… 
“Nobody else out there would ever make you feel like I would,” he growled, his fingers snapping the fabric finally. You yelped in protest at the beautiful torn fabric settling on either side of you.
“You dick—”
“Shut the fuck up—I’ll buy you new ones,” he settled himself between your thighs. “Won’t be the first time I do it either.”
You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous comment, trying your best not to just kick him right where he was. He was goddamn annoying but, fuck, did he look good down there. His eyes watched you closely, his head tilting slightly.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 
“Wondering if I go and get Blaise, this will go any faster,” you smirked, knowing that would rile him up. His smile faded and his eyes darkened once more. He gripped the back of your thighs roughly, digging his fingernails into your fleshy skin, and yanked you to the edge of his bed as fast as he could. 
“We’ll see if you still want Blaise by the end of tonight.”
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hollyhomburg · 6 months ago
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.70)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender. 
Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,
W/c: 12.6k
Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.
There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.
Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.
Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.
For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.
It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.
The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)
You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.
The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.
Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.
Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.
It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.
You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.
A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.
It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.
You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.
The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.
After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.
“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.
You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.
"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.
Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.
Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”
Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”
"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.
"Help me sit on the counter first?"
Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.
Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.
The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.
It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.
Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.
(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).
“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."
“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it” 
their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi. 
Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-” 
Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich. 
"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know." 
Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor." 
Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?" 
Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"
"Both?" 
"Both." 
You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."
"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.
“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.
He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,
"Did you just fucking bite me?"
"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.
Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears. 
"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.
You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head. 
"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.  
"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.
“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.
Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over.  “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is. 
“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!” 
Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise. 
Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.
Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs. 
“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”
Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-” 
Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.
“Come on- epic high is a classic.” 
“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”
At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.
(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)
Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.
Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.
You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever. 
It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.” 
You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 
You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.
"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands. 
Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you. 
“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 
Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-" 
"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 
Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.
He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy. 
“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 
“Still dry,” He says. 
You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from  Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway. 
You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 
Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree. 
Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 
He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 
“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 
“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 
Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through. 
~-~
Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.
"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.
Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.
Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"
Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,
"I don't have anything to wear."
Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.
"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."
"The blue one?"
"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.
"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."
Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."
They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.
You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"
Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.
Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.
It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them.   Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.
You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.
You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.
Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"
"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.
All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.
She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.
They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.
Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.
Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.
Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?
Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-
Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-
You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.
Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.
Tae chose it for you.
You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.
"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.
"I was thinking about my wedding dress."
Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.
But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.
Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories. 
Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?
(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)
"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.
"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too. 
"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."
"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.  
"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."
"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more. 
Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.
You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.  
The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands. 
When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles. 
"Jesus fucking Christ."  
Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.
Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung." 
Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.
"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering. 
"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me." 
Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. 
Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?" 
Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-" 
Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her. 
“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you. 
“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”
And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below. 
It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs. 
They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome. 
“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”
He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair. 
Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could." 
"No one's blaming you hyung-" 
"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.
“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying." 
Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.
Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.
“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized. 
Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”
And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.
Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.
Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.
Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.
The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.
���It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”
Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."
Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.
Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.
You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.
And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.
Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.
Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.
Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.
Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.
Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.
Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.
For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.
Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.
"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."
And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.
“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”
You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”
“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."
Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too.   They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.
Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.
By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice. 
~-~
You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been. 
They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.
You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.
He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul. 
But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying. 
Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck. 
You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's  ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.
You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.
Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there. 
"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-"  he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.
And yet, you still wash him.
You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.
Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.
Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.
His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart. 
You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it. 
Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.
He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook. 
And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol. 
You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon. 
“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”
“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.
“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”
“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”
“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”
Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,
“Yeah, I’d tell you.”
~-~
But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.
The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.
The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.
You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.
“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?
“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”
“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.
There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.
Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."
You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).
the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta. 
Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.
How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now. 
It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels- 
It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest. 
You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls. 
You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true. 
The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do. 
But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?” 
You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side. 
Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again. 
It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep. 
He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle. 
“I bet they were fucking delicious.” 
“Thank you Joonie, they were.” 
Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely. 
“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?” 
“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.
“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out. 
They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream. 
“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway." 
"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.
"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway." 
It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.
“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.
“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”
“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“ 
“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”
“Moonbitch Kookie.” 
You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.
“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-” 
Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it. 
Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”
You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.” 
Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good. 
“You have to be more careful.” 
“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)
The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened. 
Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”
“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.” 
“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.
“I don’t want you to think less of me.” 
Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”
“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.
"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.
"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it.   “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good."   Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.
He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"
"You never asked Yoongi."
"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.
Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”
Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”
Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.
“What do you mean by impartial?”
Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”
Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.
“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”
Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”
At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.
When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.
Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.
“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”
Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”
You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.
“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.
Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”
“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.
Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.
His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.
“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.
Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.
“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”
You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)
Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.
“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”
“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”
“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”
Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”
“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”
Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“
“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-”   “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”
Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!” 
His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.
The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.
You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.
Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long.   “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”
Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?”   Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.”   “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”
~-~
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Notes:
Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3
i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!
The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3
What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.
idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?
i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.
idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!
i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...
i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.
i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3
Until next time!
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mydearlybeloathed · 8 months ago
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𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄?
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the grace of the sword and the stage come together as the strawhats' swordsman and dancer fall in love.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!dancer!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, reader is a ballerina, mention of alcohol, abusive employer near the beginning, not beta read
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: la seine
𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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the first time he saw you, he was in denial of the fact that he was, once again, lost.
it wasn't his fault! nami ditched him in favor of viewing the rows and rows of stalls featuring all sorts of glittering jewels, and before he knew it, zoro was at a loss on where he was.
choosing to wander till he found something familiar to guide him back to the ship, he was drawn to the sweet sound of laughter, clinking glass, and soft music.
without looking up to read the sign hanging over the boisterously decorated building taking up most of the left side of the street. it was probably just a bar anyway.
so he slipped inside, meaning to find a place at a counter to order a drink, when he found himself running into a podium and faced with a woman in a suit, her expression sultry as she said, "here for the last show?"
Zoro blinked down at her, lips parting. He wasn't about to let her make him look stupid, so he settled her with a stern glower and nodded.
"You're just in luck," she purred. "We've got one last seat, and you're just in time to see our principal lady."
"Right," he nodded once more and, after casting a look at the enticing exit, turned back to the hostess. "You've got booze?"
Her smile glimmered. "Just ask and ye shall receive. We have an assortment of liquors here at Le Palais de Cerise!"
Zoro followed her down a dim hallway into an even dimmer grand room. It looked something like an opera hall, with tiered rows of half-moon booths each facing a large stage.
Blue lighting shined from lanterns hung on the ceiling, casting the place in an eerie yet mystifying glow. All around the booths and tables were occupied by guests dressed much finer than Zoro, sipping on glasses of fine wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres.
The hostess brandished an arm as she showed him to a smaller booth at the very edge of the third tier away from the stage, closer to the center aisle running between two halves of the room. It was a pretty good view, nearly right in the middle of the stage.
"Thanks," he muttered distractedly, slipping into the booth and slouching instantly. "Get me a bottle of sake, yeah?"
The woman grinned widely before turning her back, her smile falling into a sneer. Now alone, Zoro got comfortable on the cushion of the seat, deciding this place wasn't too bad of a napping spot, when the lights brightening the stage faded to black.
Violins and flutes started to sing from a pit around the edge of the stage, coming alive as all conversation died out. Zoro stiffened, shifting to sit up right as his hands fell to his swords at his side.
"I hear it's her last show," sighed a young man to his friend at the neighboring booth. "We're insanely lucky."
Zoro's eyes adjusted to the dark just as a spotlight shone down on the parting ruby curtain, and out came a dozen girls dressed as the petals of a flower, twirling on the very tips of their toes. Instantly, Zoro was fascinated.
How they hopped around and danced like that without breaking something, he hadn't a clue. Zoro was on the edge of his seat before he really realized it, and barely made a sound of acknowledgement when a bottle of sake was placed beside him.
He came back to reality long enough to take a long drink, yet when his gaze returned to the stage, the music tingled to a suspenseful, drawn out theme. The flower petals stood in two diagonals forming a V and arced their arms around to present whatever was approaching.
From the left of the stage rushed a woman donned in a dress of dark red, the skirt branching out at her waist and barely dipping with each of her movements. Her bodice was lined with black and gold lace leading up to a sweetheart neckline. Not a hair on her head was out of place. Her every movement had a purpose.
The ballerina was perfection on earth. Zoro nearly wanted to remove his gaze from her, lest he taint this apparent angel.
She nearly floated with how she glided her feet, coming to a graceful halt at center stage, at the peak of the petals' V, and presented her arms as if to say here I am!
All around the audience applauded her for her presence alone, and Zoro found himself lazily meeting his palms together as well.
The music swelled as she extended her arms to cross and pointed out a toe, hopping forward as her arms gradually lifted over her head, before she leapt into an arabesque and pattered across the stage.
Behind her, the V of petals crossed the stage to the opposite side they were on, halting in unison on a tall and extended pique.
The main ballerina continued to glide this way and that, commanding the entire room, no fault in her every twirl, leap, and scurry.
Throughout the entire performance, Zoro watched dutifully, his attention never once departing from you.
And upon the stage, with the blinding lights casting the audience in a gray shadow, you swore you felt something tangibly heavy in the way they looked at you now, though you couldn't place a finger on why.
You only knew that when the music climaxed and faltered, and the curtain lowered on you and your friends, that as the lights grew dim, you caught sight of someone leaving the theater, a set of swords glinting at their side.
It was no surprise when flowers upon flowers arrived at your little room near the back of the theater.
You were known across the city and ones around it for your grace. People came from every which way to watch you dance the same dances, on the same stage, with the same people night after night after night.
You were bored, to say the least.
For ages, you ached for the thrill dance had once brought you. To not know every move by heart, to have something to learn rather than perform out of mere memory.
You missed what it was like to make mistakes, because they made success all the more sweet.
It was why that night was your last performance at Le Palais de Cerise. The next day, you would set sail with a family of merchants you'd met the week prior, and visit lands you'd only ever dreamed of.
Hopefully, some day, you'd find the thrill once again.
But there was Madame Cerise to think of, the owner of the theater hall, and she was not so ready to let her prized ballerina slip away.
"It would be a shame," she said to her brutish son, "if our dear angel was robbed of all her money. How would she pay for escape then?"
Zoro wasn't nearly as drunk as he'd like to be, but he didn't really need the alcohol anymore. Not when all he could think of was how the hell those dancers didn't break their toes.
Looking left and right, ensuring no one was out on the streets with him, he attempted to balance himself on the very tip of his boots, immediately teetering forward and nearly twisting his ankle.
He spit out a curse, pushing back his shoulders only to slump forward again and trudge down the street. The streetlamps flickered here and there, the night breeze chilling his bare arms.
"Stop! Stop, please!"
Zoro whipped around, eyes peeled, and zeroed in on the alleyway ahead to his right. The pleading voice echoed as three burly shadows tripped and stumbled out onto the street, sprinting away.
He was halfway into a pursuit when he caught the tell-tale sound of crying. Faltering to a stop just outside the mouth of the alley, he made out the silhouette of someone in a crumbled heap on the ground.
You glanced up from cradling your skinned and burning palms to your chest, hiccuping. Finding yet another shadow lurking there, you bit back, "I've got nothing left! Run back to Cerise, you--you mutt!"
Well, that didn't exactly make him want to help you, but then, in the dim lamplight, he saw through your tear stained face and found the ballerina who'd enchanted him an hour before.
He didn't know what to do, feeling odd with an unsheathed sword in hand as you glared at him, awaiting his next move. Zoro cleared his throat. "You... danced nice."
You eyes flickered all over him before you broke into yet another round of sobs, somehow managing through it, "Yeah, and I'll be dancing nicely till I'm old and wrinkly and dead. Ugh!"
Clawing at your arms, mumbling more to yourself, "I'm such a fool... Why did I think she'd let me go..."
You were too caught up in picturing the rest of your mundane life to realize Zoro was approaching you, only jerking away from him when he knelt in front of you.
His sword was back in its scabbard, and despite the scar over his eye, the other one was nearly soft. But there was nothing soft in the way he asked you, "Who won't let you go?"
A long story short, le palais de cerise went up in flames a few days after, and you found yourself sailing away not only with the promise of adventure, but with the promise of friendship.
and the hint of something more, judging from how zoro acted around you.
It was comical, really. Once, the swordsman had been a wall of stoicism, never to be toppled. And now this woman with all the grace and poise of a swan comes in, and he’s toppled like a feather in the wind.
Not that the others would complain; he wasn’t so grouchy when you were near, the tautness in his brows softening at the very sound of your voice.
Nami and Robin often teased you about Zoro's little crush, and you never paid them any mind—you’d think twice before admitting to having a soft spot for your crewmate.
Still, it was obvious something was there.
He always tended to be near you whenever he wasn’t training or asleep. Whether you were sitting around reading, or listening to music on a gramophone Nami may or may not have stolen for you, Zoro was likely to be there, laying at your side, content with the company.
You never failed to save him a seat at breakfast, waiting even when the others got up to start working, knowing Zoro would walk in later than the rest all grumpy and tired.
Zoro stood at your side like some kind of guard dog, especially when outside the safety of the ship.
It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t look after yourself! It’s just, well, you can’t exactly fight.
“So teach me,” you snapped back, not appreciating being treated like glass.
Zoro sputtered, unsure if you’re serious, and promptly sets down his fork in favor of matching your stare from across the table.
Before he could say anything, Robin stood to put up her plate and said, “That’s a good idea. Everyone should be able to defend themself.”
You could have kissed her, grinning as she winked and wandered off. 
“You don’t need to,” Zoro blurted. 
Nami smirked as she took a sip of her water. “Why’s that?”
His reply was instant. “I’ll protect you.”
Your cheeks warmed. “That’s sweet, but you won’t always be there.”
He glared at the prospect, as if to say watch me. 
“If Marimo refuses, I would love to teach you, darling—”
“Shut up!” Zoro faced you, narrowing his eyes at the little smile you gave him. “We start tomorrow.”
Snickering, you lurched forth and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, jumping to your feet before he could even register what had happened. “Thanks, Zo!”
Whilst you made a hasty exit and Sanji started to yell at Zoro, Nami couldn’t help her excited gape as she locked eyes with Robin. The dark haired woman grinned cheekily, watching Zoro stare blankly into space. 
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger.”
Zoro did not go easy on you, and you didn’t exactly mind too much. 
You wanted to get better. That was the only reason you were out here, in the blazing sun, watching Zoro’s chest as it heaved underneath his thin shirt.
Okay, maybe not the only reason. But the main one was definitely learning to protect yourself! 
You learned quickly, sometimes even beating Zoro out on the deck in the morning, purely excited at the chance to train with him.
He had wandered into the girls room to get you, only to be confused when all he found was Nami yelling at him to get out. 
And when he saw you practicing your form with the sword he’d bought with you on that last island. 
Zoro knew you were graceful. He’d seen it the first time he ever saw you. Grace was a word so wrapped up in his view of you. 
But fuck—you were anyting but graceful with a sword. 
Each of your movements were stiff and rigid and sharp. How hadn’t he noticed it before?
So he came up and, without really thinking, reached around to grab your wrist, taking your elbow in his other hand, caging you between his arms. 
You’re not quite sure how you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
Only after your eyes met did Zoro realize the predicament he’d gotten himself into—and promptly sprang away from you, complimenting how fast you caught on and beelining back into the ship.
You weren’t sure you could take much more of that. Not before you acted on one of your many urges to kiss him senseless.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wait much longer.
So long of the crew’s teasing, slight grazes of the hand, and longing stares all led up to one night aboard the ship, lost in the music and sea breeze.
Zoro had been trying to take another sip of his drink for a while now, but each time he brought his glass to his lips, his eyes were dragged back to you, and Zoro’s breath hitched as he lowered his hand once more.
You were effervescent, your smile never wavering as you twirled and stomped around to the beat of the melody strumming from Brook’s guitar. You had caught Usopp in a waltz now, dragging him with you as he stumbled to keep up. A laugh bubbled up and out of you, and Zoro’s chest seized. 
Nami rolled her eyes, growing tired of watching Zoro be so hopelessly infatuated. “Would you give it up? Do us all a favor and just tell her already.”
The swordsman barely cast her a glance, finally managing to get some sake down his throat to sooth the anxiety welling in his chest. “No clue what you’re on about.”
“You’re impossible,” she scoffed, standing while setting a hand on his shoulder. “And just plain sad.” Nami had skipped off to take your hand before Zoro could snap back at her, and he watched from his seat as Nami spun you around, dragging another chuckle out of you.
Sighing, Zoro lowered his gaze and settled on remaining seated the whole night, allowing you to have your fun without dampening it with his useless conversations. 
A figure plopped into Nami’s abandoned seat, and he was prepared for another tease, when your voice loftily inquired, “Zoro, you’ve been sad all night.”
Instantly, his head lifted to look at you and your slight smile. Your chest heaved up and down, still exhausted from dancing circles around the deck. He set his glass down, shifting his knees to face yours. “I’m fine. You tired?”
Your huffed sigh was answer enough, pulling a scant grin out of him. Your face lit up at the sight, and your eyes took a slightly warmer tone. “I know your answer already, but do you wanna dance?”
He nearly said what you expected—no—before it sank in that you had expected it. For him to deny you of something you wanted. Zoro’s eyes flickered all over your pretty face, his heart beating fast, and he nodded, much to your surprise.
“Really?” You tried to hold back your smile. “I mean, you don’t have to—”
“I do.”
You nearly squealed right then and there, settling for beaming at him whilst you scooped up his hand and pulled him to his feet. Your smile was coy and his was stifled, but everyone could see it. You took both his hands in yours and leaned back, spinning the both of you around.
From somewhere nearby, Sanji was scoffing and Usopp was whistling, but Zoro hardly even heard the music anymore. All he was conscious of was you and your snickers, of how your touch ignited his skin, of his stumbling feet, of how you drew him closer with a slight tug on his hand and wrung your arms around his neck.
Brook, as if on cue, began to strum a softer song, something akin to a slow dance. It drew a grin on your face, your eyes fluttering closed. Zoro’s heart jumped and his right foot crushed yours. He apologized swiftly as you winced, somehow still giggling at him. Angel, he thought.
Zoro couldn’t breathe. Not when you looked at him like that. His hands froze at his sides before they inched closer to you, hovering over your sides. Your eyes were shut, and he admired you unabashedly, leaning forward till his nose brushed your own, jerking you from your reverie to find him a breath away. 
His eyes widened after locking with yours, sputtering another apology as he attempted to remove himself from your vicinity, cursing himself. Your hands intertwined around his neck, holding him in place as all sense of caution fled your body. One last look into your eyes had Zoro lurching forward, catching your lips and relishing in the feeling of your thumb grazing his cheek. 
How an angel like you could hold a demon like him so lovingly, he wasn't sure. Zoro vowed to spend his life trying to find out, remaining at your side dutifully till the end of his days. You certainly had no objections, doing your best every day to convince him he indeed deserved your love.
The others never let you hear the end of it. Every “about time” made you that much closer to smacking someone upside the head. 
After your feelings were revealed, not much changed. The dynamic was still there, with the added physical intimacy when far from the prying eyes of the others, of course.
Zoro liked to lay his head on your legs while you read, and he’d never say it out loud, but he loved it when you carded your hands lazily through his hair. He didn't exactly need to tell you though; his contented sighs and following snores were enough.
He’s still not much of a dancer, and you respect when he’s just too tired to entertain your twirling and whirling. But sometimes, on days where he’s been up so long he starts to feel energized, he’ll take your hand and drag you onto the floor of whatever bar he’d brought you to. 
He's terrible, finding no rhythm no matter how hard he tries, and he settles for simply swaying along with you.
(You're in no place to tease him for it; you're just as out of place with a sword in hand).
Funny how you both held such grace in your separate fields of passion, yet lost it all the moment you try the other's craft.
Zoro still short-circuited every time your lips brushed his cheek, even if it became a habit of yours whenever leaving his side. 
Princess. Treatment (Or as much as he can give).
He’ll bully you if you start complaining that your feet hurt, but he’ll let you cling to his back like a koala all the way back to ship while doing it. 
Whilst walking around whatever city the crew was stopped at, he’ll have one arm around you at all times, really only letting you go when you weasel out of his arms to go listen to the little band playing music on the street corner. 
(He stands guard at the front of the crowd, eyes peeled whilst you distract the watchers long enough for Nami to pickpocket each and every one of them. And when he’s inevitably so caught up in watching you, someone notices Nami slinking off with their wallet. The three of you race through the street and around a corner, laughing till your sides ache).
Zoro will help you destroy all your dead pointe shoes from your days on Cerise’s stage, having no need for them on the sea, slamming the shoes by the ribbons against the deck of the ship till Usopp yells at you for leaving scratches on the deck. 
He has a little too much fun with it, and you’re no different, feeling free of all bitterness and anger with each shoe that you snap in two. The others are only slightly concerned about the violence of it all, leaving the pair of you alone when you and Zoro melt into laughter like children.
You try to teach him to waltz one day, because he was hopeless on the dance floor with two left feet. When he tried to escape it, you simply replied, “I want to dance with you… and keep my toes too.” “Hey!”
An hour must have passed, and Zoro still couldn’t process exactly what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to. He narrowly missed your toe again by stepping forward when he was meant to step back. 
Zoro grunted, dropping his arms from your waist and putting a wide berth between you. “Forget it.”
Grinning softly, you took his chin between your thumb and finger, catching his frustrated gaze that melted once it met with yours. “It’s fine. You’ll get it eventually.”
He scoffed as if to say yeah right, and you took that personally. Raising a brow, you lowered your gaze to your feet, then to Zoro’s, before a grin tugged at your lips. “I know! Here.”
You hooked your arms around his neck, getting up close and personal as you gently stepped onto his shoes. Zoro tried to remain stoic, but it all fell through when you brushed your nose against his and dragged a little chuckle out of him. 
“What’re you doing?” he asked fondly.
“Dancing,” you laughed. “This way, you can’t step on my feet.”
“But now you’re stepping on mine.”
“Hush. Just—spin around. I dunno.”
His hands settled on your hips, his eyes rolling to the side despite the light blush on his cheeks giving him away. Zoro grinned slyly and wrapped his arms around you, tottering from one foot to the next in a swift whirl. You squealed his name into his neck as he lifted you up, spinning the both of you around and around till you could barely breathe, you were laughing so hard.
Your feet touched the floor as Zoro’s sight got too dizzy, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest as he leaned into you for balance. You gripped his shoulders so he wouldn’t take you down with him, running your hand up the back of his neck to card through his hair. 
He pulled back, smiling dazedly, and you shook your head at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Eh,” he said, ducking to hover his lips over yours. “I think I’m getting good at this dancin’ thing.”
Your scoff was muffled against his kiss, deep and slow. He grinned against your mouth, taking the first step forward to lead you back to his bed. The door to the boy‘s cabin swung open, instantly followed by a sharp scoff.
You broke away from Zoro to find Sanji standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed at Zoro’s back. “Whore,” he spat, his eyes softening on you. “Not you, my dear.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” you said with a roll of your eyes, watching as Zoro’s good mood flew out the window as he glared daggers into the cook. “Welp, dance class is over.” 
They were arguing before you ever left the room, their tones escalating surprisingly fast. “Bye, boys!”
There was a lull in the shouting before the sound of Zoro lumbering down the hall (did he just run into the doorframe?) echoed after you. “Hey, angel, wait!”
You turned, giggling as your graceless boyfriend stumbled to a stop before you, one arm resting on the wall beside you to steady himself. He too started to smile after catching the soft one on your lips, his other arms reaching to pull you close by your hip.
"I'll practice," he promised softly, his nose gently brushing your own.
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. I'll sweep you off your feet once and for all then."
He kissed you then, softly and full of intention, so you didn't bother to say Oh, but you already have.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s
346 notes · View notes
ferg0s · 12 days ago
Note
hi,
Could I request a scenario where karasu gets a pink lock partner in a spandex suit? 😔
You already know he’s an annoying little shit about it. He likes to tease, get the low blow and bask in the glory of it afterwards. He likes knowing he can get in the other persons head, catch them off guard. He prefers to tear someone’s skills down, but he doesn’t shy away from physical attributes. After all, game is game.
And the frumpy uniforms was like a sitting duck.
“Oi, Cinderella-“ he smirked as he walked up next to you on the field. Water bottle in hand. “Fairy god mother hasn’t shown up yet?”
You roll your eyes and catch the bottle he threw your way, trying to ignore his comments as you gulped the water down. The stupid uniforms they had you in made you sweat like crazy, the thick material didn’t help either. And most importantly, they were ugly. Plain and simple, they were ugly. Frumpy, grey and old fashioned. They looked more like prison uniforms than soccer ones.
“I guess the clock struck midnight,” he mused as he wedged himself infront of you. Steeling the ball and giving you a quick glance, the gentle shove causing you to lose balance and stumble backwards. Cinderella; always in tattered clothes and covered in dirt. You hated it. And he knew you hated it, so he did his best to rub salt on the wound. “Missing a shoe?” He would chuckle as he stole the ball. “I think the ball is a only for pretty girls,” “I guess the rats were busy,”
Karasu learned pretty quickly that you weren’t one to fuck around on the field, you had insane spatial awareness, enough to rival the top guys at blue lock. Which made you hyper aware of how close he would be whenever you two were playing a 1 on 1. You blamed yourself for thinking that he would be a decent partner, figuring ego matched him up with you because you had similar traits - but you were dead wrong. It was like ego had thrown you in your own personalized level of hell.
Karasu was taller than you, and a bit more agile. By a fraction of a second if you wanted to get technical, but he was like a rat, using every little crevice to squeeze his way inside the game. Inside your head. The first time it happened you were stunned, soccer usually wasn’t a big contact sport - there being penalties for shoving or pushing. But he towed the like between accidental touch and deliberate shove. The shoves got under your skin. . Given his height compared to you, instead of hitting your chest it would hit you straight on the collar bone. The pain would linger on for hours after, sometimes making it hard for you to move your arms or neck. But technically, it wasn’t a foul. And you hated that. Technically. You grew up playing soccer by the books - very cut and clean, orthodox even. That’s what made you good, your moves were too flawless to counter. But that was also the problem, because even the purest of glass can be broken by the tiniest of stone.
Your goal slowly began to turn from being the best striker, to now finding a way to get your lick back. And just when all hope was lost..
“Good morning, diamonds in the rough,” egos voice called out in the girls dorms through the multiple speakers. “After a needlessly long wait, you can finally ditch those rags. Please go to the locker rooms and take the bag assigned to you-“
When you entered the field after putting on the official uniform, you had already prepared for the snarky comment that would be thrown your way. Probably something along the lines of; fairy god mother finally pulled through? You placed your bottle down and sat down to tie your cleats, your eyes darting when you heard a whistle. “I guess fairy god mothers do exist,” he chuckled as he walked up to you. Bingo! “Thought she’d get rid of the evil step mother too,” you quip back as you turn your attention back to the shoes. He chuckled, liking that you had started to bite back. “More like she’s found your price charming-“ “Funny, I remember the dog turning into the coachman, not the prince.” You had never been one to engage to trash talk, but god did it feel good to get the last word in with him.
The small 1 on 1 match began, despite the fact you two were supposed to work together, it seemed like the two of you were more focused on trying to score on eachother. With the total score being 0-0 for both of you, making you near the bottom of the teams. He wanted to establish some sort of dominance while you wanted to kick his teeth in for thinking that. Both of you fighting tooth and nail for the first goal, and to prevent the other from scoring.
“So Cindy,” he smirked as he wedged himself infornt of you. He was going to do it, you had been playing next to him long enough to know his moves. The god forsaken collarbone shove. Out of all his moves, you couldn’t find a counter to this one. It was your only weak spot, and he knew it. The difference in height making it impossible for you to dodge it, if you tried to duck you would be too slow and risk injuring your head. Injury wasn’t an option for you. If you went too low it would…
In that moment time seemed to stand still. You were going about this all wrong. You were trying to play chess with a man who was playing checkers with you all along. You had to get on his level to win at this own game, get down and dirty. Maybe the nickname he gave you would make sense in a way. You saw it coming, the shove, aimed directly at your collarbone.
He got in position, his arm moving towards you. He knew that in a second he’d feel your collarbone against his arm, his hand going to cup your shoulder for a second before he pushed off you and got a 3 second frame of confusion out of you. It was like muscle memory for him. In the time it took him to blink the whole ordeal would be over, but as soon as his eyes closed he prepared himself to feel your shoulder… your soft, squishy…
Wait.
His eyes darted open and he looked at you, the smirk on your face appearing as his left. His eyes followed his hand, seeing his hand over your boob. You had moved up instead of ducking his shove, catching him off guard. As a faint blush appeared on his face from the feeling of your literal boob in his hand, you used that to your advantage. He was still reeling from the feeling when you went and shot straight into the net.
“Aw cmon-“ you laugh as you approach him. “You’re acting like you’ve never touched a tit before-“ you tease, feeling the power you had over him in the moment. “Of course I have!” He replied, after defensively. “Okay Pinocchio-“ you scoff, walking to the side to get a drink.
He soon realized what you meant by that.
______
I admit, season 2 animation isn’t as bad as people made it seem to be
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 1 year ago
Note
ur my fav writer on heree <33333  could I request Agatha x female reader with they starting as a friends-with-benefits type of relationship
Both fall in love with each other but think they are not reciprocated. Agatha, despite appearing confidence, is afraid of rejection and ruining the relationship that keeps her close to reader so she doesn’t say anything until in one of her “dates” someone flirts with reader and Agatha gets jealous and marks territory.
They discuss and confess their feelings for each other and formalize their relationship and smutty. Can the request have fingering, oral and Agatha using a magic strap? Also: Agatha VERY excited because it’s her first time having sex as an official couple 
💋
pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader
summary: friends-with-benefits to lovers
content warnings: ooh boy where do i start. smut obvi, choking, jealousy, possessiveness, hickeys, fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on, subspace. oh and a scene where reader gets anxious in a public setting. low-key angst at the beginning, but it gets better!
word count: 6k+
masterlist
A/N: thanks for the request!! i hope u like it hehe, i had fun and wrote more that i thought i would. ur so sweet, thank you! <3
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Photo Cred: Me
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Mine
Kicking off your shoes, you leaned against your front door, sighing in relief as you took your bag off your shoulders. Blinking in the dim lighting and realizing you’d probably forgotten to leave a lamp on, you stumbled towards the kitchen. Setting your bag down on the counter, you pulled your phone out and sent a quick text to your neighbor as you opened the fridge. 
‘Heyyy, my boss is being a huge dickwad atm. Wanna come over? I could use some stress relief, if ya know what I mean ;)’
Seeing that your neighbor had read your text, you looked up. Squinting slightly against the warm refrigerator light, your eyebrows steadily rose as you took stock of the contents.  Staring in disbelief at your barren fridge, you shot off another text. 
‘Bring food, I forgot to go shopping. Again.’
Closing the fridge, you grabbed a corkscrew as you pulled a bottle of wine from your pantry. Hopping onto the counter, you prepared two glasses while you waited, rubbing at your temples to get rid of the dull ache you’d had ever since your boss had opened his mouth this morning. The sound of a notification rang through your silent kitchen, and you smiled slightly as you read the text from your neighbor. 
‘On My Way!’
Then, another text appeared straight after. 
‘You have to show me how to get rid of that stupid auto correct. I do not use exclamation points.’
Smiling, you sent a text letting her know that the door was unlocked before hopping down from the counter and getting out two plates. While you absentmindedly prepared the table for a late dinner, you found yourself getting more and more excited with every second that passed. 
Honestly, how could you not. Agatha Harkness was the single most interesting person you'd ever met. With her endearing dark curls and piercing dark blue eyes, you’d developed a crush almost immediately. It must have been the way she grasped your hand firmly at the block barbeque, introducing herself with a raspy voice and teasing lilt, that had you giving up your body to her that same night. 
Ever since that warm summer evening, you’d been casually seeing her. It was mainly sex, and as smitten as you were with her, Agatha most definitely did not see you the same way. How could she? You were a twenty-two year old girl with a job you hated and no idea how to take care of yourself, and Agatha was a confident forty-three year old woman with a stable job, extensive hobbies, and rich tastes. 
Shaking yourself out of your thoughts and willing the stupid smile off your face at the sound of your front door opening, you leaned as casually as you could against the counter. Even in the dim lighting of your kitchen, Agatha looked like she’d just walked a runway. 
Okay, maybe that was excessive. But the dark dress slacks that hugged her hips, and the tucked in blouse that showed plenty of cleavage was definitely attractive. You could smell her lavender perfume wafting over to you as she set a paper bag full of food on your counter, and you let your eyes slide slowly up her body as she turned towards you. 
“My eyes are up here, sweet cheeks.” Agatha had a slight smirk on her face as she watched the way you shivered at her words. 
You let your eyes wander up to her face, feeling like she could see your very thoughts as those blue eyes pierced yours. Smiling, you made your way towards her as she reached for your waist. “Sorry, I’m just enjoying the view.”
Chuckling slightly, Agatha spun you around quickly, pressing your back against the counter as she laid her hands on either side of you. Thoroughly trapped between her and the counter, you took the opportunity to roll your hips into hers, smiling widely at her suppressed groan. 
Needy lips found yours, Agatha’s teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You let your mind drift, your shoulders relaxing for the first time that day as you let Agatha dominate the kiss. She pulled away far too soon for your liking, and you couldn’t help the pout that appeared on your face as you wrapped your arms around her waist. 
“Come on, I need to make you some food if you’re going to have enough energy for what I have planned later.” Agatha ended her sentence with a wink, pulling away from your grasp as your eyes went wide. She pulled out various food ingredients as you went to the sink and washed your hands, stealing one last final kiss from you before she turned her attention to the food. 
Giving you a few vegetables to cut up, Agatha pulled your hair into a ponytail for you, returning to the stove and shooting you an inquisitive look. “Tell me all about your asshole boss.”
You sat back, finally finishing your long winded rant about your overbearing boss. You stabbed the last piece of pasta on your plate, bringing the fork to your mouth as Agatha watched. She brought her glass of wine to her lips, processing the last ten minutes of your rambling. 
It had been hard for her to focus, truly, you just looked so perfect in the dim but warm lighting of your kitchen. She kept finding herself looking at the perfect curve of your neck, and the way your hair fell over your shoulders as you waved your hands to prove a point. The way your eyes bore into hers as you waited for a response wasn’t helping, and she gulped down the rest of her drink quickly. 
“Well, at this point you’ve got to be firm with your boundaries, hon,” She started, bringing her fingers to circle the rim of her wine glass as your eyes followed the movement. “I know that’s difficult, but your boss won’t ever learn to respect you if you don't communicate your boundaries with him.”
Nodding, you let out a noise of agreement, cracking your neck slightly as you eyed your computer bag. Agatha followed your line of sight, before turning back to you and raising an eyebrow. “Are you seriously considering working right now?”
Scoffing slightly, you stood up and gathered up the dishes. As you moved to grab Agatha’s plate, you leaned over until her eyes were level with your chest. You’d unbuttoned your shirt slightly, and you smiled victoriously when her eyes locked on your purple bra. 
“And what if I am?” You whispered, your lips grazing her ear as you watched her fingers twitch slightly around her empty wine glass. 
Washing the dishes quickly, you could sense movement behind you as you placed the last plate on the drying rack. Turning, your mouth fell open at the sight of Agatha’s nude chest. Her fingers were toying with her belt as she placed her top and bra into the bag she’d brought with her. 
“Still thinking about work?” 
You felt your mouth go dry, your mind blanking as she sauntered up to you. Her fingers hooked in your belt loops, pulling you backwards towards your couch. Crossing the living room, your eyes remained on her chest as your hands wrapped around her neck.
The back of your knees met the couch, and Agatha partially pushed you down, positioning you until you were laying down. Slowly removing your shirt, button by button, she leaned down and let her lips graze your neck before murmuring, “You have a lot on your mind, today, I can practically see your brain overworking itself. Be a good girl and let me fuck all those thoughts right out of your pretty head.”
A low moan escaped you, and you felt yourself sink into the comfortable lavender-scented haze that you'd grown used to. Something about Agatha just felt safe, and while you were with her you felt that you could give her control. 
Agatha controlled your body, mind, and heart. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
A hand cupped your cheek, and your eyes refocused to see blue eyes looking down on you with concern. “Is that alright, hon?” 
Blinking, you smiled, wrapping your hands around Agatha’s waist as you pulled her body flush against yours. “Yes, I just slipped into subspace for a second.”
Blue eyes darkened, and the hand on your cheek slid down to wrap around your throat as Agatha’s lips met yours. She whispered in between kissing you, “Good. That’s what I’m here for. You just let me have control for a little while, I promise I’ll take care of you.”
A whine left your throat, and Agatha gently grasped your wrists with her hand and held them above your head. Pressing them into the couch cushion, she wordlessly ordered you to stay put, before she was ripping off your bra and leaving marks all over your chest. 
You let your body go limp, your brain floating away as you breathed heavily beneath her. It just felt so good. The smell of Agatha’s perfume, her hands running over your waist as her lips sucked bruises into your skin. You felt her lips move up to your collarbone, squirming slightly as you opened your eyes. 
“Agatha.” Your voice was slightly hard, but breathy. 
A hum of acknowledgement sounded out, and you fought the urge to move your hands as her lips steadily made their way towards your neck. Your mind rose out of the haze it was in, sharpening when her teeth grazed a sensitive spot at the base of your throat. 
Pushing Agatha back by her shoulders, your lips parted at the hungry look in her eyes. She leaned in, her tongue swiping over her lips before a firm hand on her sternum stopped her. 
“No visible marks.” Your voice was cold, reminding her of the rules you both had agreed on. Agatha’s face dropped slightly, her hands stilling around your waist as your eyes flitted between her eyes and lips. 
“Fine.” Agatha said, her tone short. 
She could have kicked herself, of course you wouldn’t want anyone to know about this. You were a young woman with all the opportunities in the world, well-spoken and gentle with the brightest smile. Anyone could have you, could love you. Agatha reminded herself that she wasn’t special, at least not to you, as she slowly lowered you back against the couch, your hands digging into her hair. 
To her, you were a bright burning star. The only light she had, and although you threatened to burn her from the inside out, with your teasing smiles and glossy eyes, she couldn't help but get sucked into your orbit. It was a never ending dance, the two of you. Getting close enough to feel the scorching heat that guaranteed to consume her heart and soul, then pulling away before the feeling could grow into something that promised longevity. 
Your lips found hers, and they tasted like forgiveness. 
Agatha let herself get lost in you, in your high-pitched moans that washed over her, and the way your fingers tightened in her hair when she finally took your aching nipple between her lips. Your hips rose to meet hers, grinding your pelvis against hers as she groaned into your soft skin. 
The haze returned, thicker than before. Agatha’s lips were soft yet rough, lulling you into a state of bliss. Your clothes were off before you could process the action, your skin sliding against Agatha’s as she murmured praises into your ear. 
Her fingers entered you, and you saw stars. They curled, and your eyes rolled back. Agatha was there to catch you, bringing you down with soft words and firm hands that promised to mold you into something beautiful. 
When she eventually left for the night, promising to text you when she arrived home, you felt something empty settle in your chest. Shrugging it off, you smiled down at your phone as the notification sound rang. 
‘Dinner on me, this Friday? There’s a new restaurant I’ve been wanting to try.’
Biting your lip, you set your phone down as you turned on the shower. Inspecting your nude body, you ran your fingers over the marks Agatha had left on your chest. Your eyes rose slightly, imagining what some of those marks would look like on your neck. You shook your head, it would do no good to fantasize about things you couldn’t have. Picking up your phone, you responded. 
‘Sure! That sounds an awful lot like a date tho…’
You stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot water hit your aching muscles. Letting your mind drift, you started planning your outfit, knowing that you’d cave to Agatha’s request. 
Your phone buzzed, your eyes snapping open at the sound, your heart racing slightly. You paused, getting a grip and deciding to make her wait. Rubbing conditioner onto the ends of your hair, you glanced over at your phone, sitting innocently on the counter. Fuck it. 
Getting out of the shower, rinsing your hair and suds of soap off your body, you picked up your phone with damp fingers. 
‘It’s not a date, hon. It’s a nice dinner between two friends.’
You scoffed, something dropping in your chest as you reread the text. 
‘If you say so.’
Dropping the phone onto your bed, you wrapped your hair in a towel, pulling your laptop out. Scrolling, you found the latest email from your boss, asking you to complete a task before the next morning. Remembering what Agatha had told you, you composed an email of your own. 
‘Good evening, I will no longer respond to messages outside of my regular work hours. If there is a problem with this, please feel free to bring it up to our Human Resources department. I will see you tomorrow, Y/N Y/L/N.’
Sending it, you felt a shred of self respect enter your body as a proud feeling wormed its way into your heart. It reminded you of Agatha, and you closed your laptop before reaching for your phone. 
‘I do, I’ll pick you up at 6.’
Looks like you had an outfit to pick out.
You felt your heart drop as low as your bank statement as Agatha pulled up to the restaurant. You recognized the name, and knew that this was way too expensive to accept. 
“Agatha,” You began, your eyes wide as you took in the decorative entranceway. 
A hand on your thigh stopped more words from escaping your mouth, your mind scrambling for a solution. You looked down, admiring the short nails on Agatha’s long fingers as she tightened her grip, before raising your eyes to her own. 
“Let me take care of you.” Agatha said, her tone leaving no room for arguments. She could see your mind at war with itself, your lips parting as an argument sprung to your tongue. Before you could get any words out, she leaned in and kissed you. It was a short kiss, no more than two seconds, but it left you silent and wanting more. 
Elegant eyebrows rose, Agatha waiting for your response. Your eyes flicked down, resting on her lips. “Okay.”
At your resigned whisper, Agatha smiled widely. She quickly swept you out of your seat, her pace quick but leisurely as she ushered you inside, her hand resting on the small of your back. 
Your eyes were wide as you looked around the restaurant, taking in the chandelier and dark mahogany of the walls as the soft chatter of the patrons reached your ears. Although it was a rule to not touch each other in public, you ignored it in favor of leaning further into Agatha’s side, feeling slightly overwhelmed. 
A nice looking man approached the two of you, his uniform neatly pressed as he ushered for you to follow. He led you to a more secluded area of the restaurant, as per your reservation, and you felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Agatha meticulously planning this out. 
Pulling the chair out for you, Agatha let her eyes roam down the front of your dress as you sat down. Leaning in, she let her lips just barely graze your ear, “You look wonderful, by the way.”
A blush made its way onto your face, and a tendril of heat erupted in your core at the low tone. Picking up the menu to give your hands something to do, you felt your fingers shake as your eyes landed on the price tags for each item. 
Murmuring a wine selection to the hovering waiter, Agatha watched as your eyes rapidly scanned the paper in front of you. The man quickly left, and she sat back in her seat as she waited for your eyes to meet hers. 
“This feels like a date.” You said, your voice trembling slightly as you gingerly put down the menu. Looking up, you felt a small tendril of hope worm its way into your heart. Agatha’s blue eyes didn’t look quite as piercing in the dark atmosphere of your secluded corner, instead holding something unmistakably warm in them as she looked at you. 
“Would you like this to be a date?” Agatha simply asked, raising a single brow. 
You froze, the hope in your chest wrapping around your heart and squeezing. You willed your mouth to start working and respond, but all you could manage were a few blinks. Agatha sighed slightly, her eyes dropping from your face as she ran her fingers over her own menu. 
“Remember, this is on me. Don’t worry about the prices, hon.” Her voice was still low, but had lost its slight raspiness that you’d grown fond of. 
Before you could say anything in return, your mind and heart still waging a war against each other, the waiter returned. The silence stretched as he poured the wine, Agatha motioning for him to leave the bottle. Speaking softly, she ordered before turning to look at you. 
“And what would you like?” The waiter asked, his tone professional as you floundered. 
Panicking slightly, your fingers gripped the menu as you tried to skim the different options. The words started blurring together, and you felt your neck heat up at the expectant silence. You felt out of place, longing for a quiet bar with no manners to be seen, rather than this expensive restaurant that had dozens of rules you weren’t aware of. 
A cool hand placed itself on your trembling fingers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Agatha’s eyes as she ordered for you. The ringing in your ears grew louder as your heartbeat raced, and your eyes darted towards the restrooms. Taking a steadying breath, your eyes fell to Agatha’s hand, curled around your fingers as you clenched the menu.
The sound of a throat clearing caused your eyes to snap up, landing on the waiter's outstretched hand as he glanced at your menu. You smiled apologetically, watching him eye the slightly crumpled paper as you handed it to him. He walked away, and you sank into your seat. 
“Breathe for me.” Agatha’s voice washed over you, unraveling the tight knot in your chest as you took a few measured breaths. You looked anywhere but her eyes, annoyed with yourself and a bit embarrassed. The only other time she’d seen you like this was when she fucked you in a public bathroom, and you had panicked when someone knocked on the door. 
Shaking that thought out of your head, you laughed awkwardly as you reached for your wine. Taking a sip and frowning at the way your fingers trembled around the glass, you kept your head ducked as you looked at Agatha through your lashes. 
The expression on her face could only be described as soft, and you lifted your chin as the last oily remnants of shame left you. Taking a larger mouthful of wine, you prayed for your nerves to dissipate as the alcohol hit your bloodstream. 
“Nervous?” The raspiness was back, and you couldn’t help the way your lips parted. You watched her eyes flick downwards, studying the color of your lipstick briefly before shooting back up towards your eyes. 
Offering a tight lipped smile, you attempted to shake off your nerves. You could enjoy a nice dinner with your neighbor. Your really hot neighbor. Fuck. You took another sip of your wine. 
“Just feeling a little out of my element.” You said, feeling a pleasant buzz settle underneath your skin. You let the rest of the restaurant fade into a low thrum, your attention solely focused on Agatha’s lips as she tasted the wine in front of her. Her fingers curled around the glass, and your mouth watered slightly as you remembered the way it felt to suck on them after she’d fucked you dumb. 
Agatha asked you a question, something about your boss, and you let the conversation take your nerves away. You barely even noticed the waiter returning with your food, so caught up in the way Agatha laughed slightly at your lame attempt at a joke. Her lips quirked up, her features softening as she stifled another laugh. 
Digging into your food, you thanked her for selecting an option for you. You couldn’t quite name what was in front of you, but it was delicious. You let your eyes close slightly, savoring the taste in your mouth as you slowly removed your spoon. You realized that Agatha had gone quiet, and looked at her inquisitively. 
Dark blue eyes stared at you in a way that could only be described as hungry. Her fingers had tightened around her silverware, the whites of her knuckles bleeding through as her gaze locked onto the spoon still between your lips. 
You smiled, finally catching on. Slowly, you dragged the spoon past your lips before using the tip of your tongue to clean it off. Your smile widened at the sound of Agatha sucking in a sharp breath, her jaw working. 
Digging into your food once more, you slowly lifted the spoon to your lips. Agatha’s eyes snapped to yours. 
“Don’t do that.” Her words were practically hissed, her eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes. Her pupils were slightly blown, the blue of her eyes reduced to mere slivers as she watched you slip the spoon between your lips. 
Swallowing, and deciding to take mercy on her, you set your spoon down and tilted your head as you observed the rigid posture of the woman across from you. 
“Do what?” You asked, your tone innocent even as a smirk graced your lips. Taking another sip of your wine, you watched Agatha’s fingers loosen their grip on her silverware. She flexed them slightly, looking around briefly before a hard look appeared in her eyes. 
“Don’t tease me,” She murmured, her eyes dark as she watched your lips part at her words. “Although, that’s what you want. Isn’t it?”
“I-” You felt a rush of heat at your core, your underwear dampening slightly at the flood of arousal that coursed through you. 
“You want me to watch you, the way that you pretend to be innocent while you tease me with your fingers and lips and eyes that practically beg me to fuck you. Isn’t that right?” Agatha’s eyes were dark, boring into you as you sucked in a breath. She slowly lifted her wine, sipping as you tried to control your quickly overheating body. 
The waiter returned. You despaired. 
You felt the weight of Agatha’s stare as she paid the waiter, leaving a generous tip that had him glowing. She pulled your chair out for you, leading you from the restaurant with a much firmer hold around your waist. You find yourself leaning into the touch, blaming the wine you’d gulped down for your lack of rule-following. 
“Oh my gosh! Hey!” A chipper voice startles you out of the daze you were in, and you pull away from Agatha, ignoring the look she sends you as you search for the owner of the voice. Looking around you spot your coworker waving at you from down the street.
“Hey,” You start, forgetting her name. You cough awkwardly as she approaches, nudging Agatha in the side when you catch her staring daggers at the woman. “How are you?”
Your coworker launches into a rambling rendition of her past week, her enthusiasm not dimming even as Agatha turns stony beside you. You nod along, missing the way Agatha’s eyes watch as your coworker grasps your forearms when she laughs. 
Watchful eyes take note of your coworkers hands as they hold onto you, as they playfully slap your shoulder when you offer a lame joke in response to her never-ending chatter. Agatha feels the churning jealousy in her chest rise to an inferno when your coworker pulls you into a tight hug. Her hands linger around your waist a little too long for Agatha’s liking, and she offers a tight lipped smile as the girl waves goodbye. 
You turn, your face frozen in an awkward grimace as you make eye contact with Agatha. She has an unreadable look in her eyes, and you wonder what it is as she turns you and starts walking towards her car. 
She’d parked a few blocks away, and her strides are long and purposeful as her hand tightens further on the small of your back. You struggle to keep up, your mind bouncing between Agatha’s splayed fingers burning through your dress and her stony expression. It’s all very confusing, and you tug at her shirt to draw her attention. 
“Ok what’s going on, becau-” 
You’re cut off by Agatha’s hands pushing you backwards, into an alley and up against the wall. Her hands are rough, palming your hips as she presses herself against your front, your breaths intermingling. Your eyes dart down, watching her lips part. You practically tremble from anticipation, and you close your eyes as she leans towards you. 
Soft lips meet your neck, and your eyes fly open in surprise as a strangled gasp leaves your throat. Your hand moves up, tangling in her hair as those soft lips are replaced with sharp teeth. 
Pleasure courses through you as she marks your neck, her lips never quite lifting off your skin as she sucks dark bruises along the sides of your throat. Her hands are still on your hips, pressing you into the wall in a harsh grip as her heaving chest presses against your own. 
You’re about to remind her that you’re in public, that anyone could walk by and see the two of you, when a single, growled word causes your mind to blank. 
“Mine.”
At the low moan that rips itself from your throat, Agatha pulls away, her eyes dark as she takes in the state of your neck. A smirk forms on her face, and before you can catch your breath, she’s pulling you away from the wall and walking quicker than before towards her car. 
You remain quiet, processing the last few minutes as she pulls onto the street. Her hand makes its way towards your thigh, and you blink in confusion. She never touched you in public like that, so what changed now?
Agatha’s fingers squeezed your thigh in an almost possessive manner, and your eyes widened as you came to a realization. “Do you see me as more than just a hot neighbor you like to fuck sometimes?” 
You’re staring at her now, your own feelings looming and threatening to overwhelm you. Praying that your infatuation is reciprocated, you gently touch the fingers on your thigh, waiting until Agatha glanced over at you. 
Her eyes are nervous, wide, and filled with the same emotions you see in the mirror everytime the two of you separate for the night. You can sense her hesitance, and you turn her palm over to lace your fingers with hers. 
“Because I see you as so much more than that.” Your words are whispered, Agatha’s eyes widening slightly at your confession. She diverts her focus from the road, her eyes taking you in as an unmistakable feeling of joy spreads through her chest. Turning back, she bites her lip as a slow smile spreads across her face. 
The fingers intertwined with your own squeeze tighter, and you smile as you watch the emotions flit across Agatha’s face. Excitement and hope being the main two. She wears a small smile for the remainder of the car ride, her fingers squeezing yours as she stroked the back of your hand with her thumb. 
Pulling into her driveway, Agatha practically forces you out of the car, her hands hot around your waist as you enter her home. As soon as you’re through the door, she shuts it and presses you firmly against the cool wood. 
“So,” You begin, slightly breathless as her lips resume marking your neck. “Does this mean you also feel strongly about me?” 
Agatha's eyes are warm as she pulls away to look at you. Her fingers run gently over your flushed cheek, her smile wide as she responds. “Of course I do.” 
You sense a slight hesitancy from her, and gently grasp her chin when she looks away from you. Her eyes are wide, tears starting to fill them. 
“I don’t want to scare you off.” Agatha says, her voice trembling. 
Pulling away from the door, you pull Agatha along as you search for her bedroom. Offering a gentle smile, you push her onto the bed before straddling her lap. Pulling her face into your cupped hands, you place a gentle kiss on her lips before whispering, “Tell me, I promise you won’t scare me off.”
Agatha’s eyes are earnest, her hands trembling as they clutch the fabric around your hips.  “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you. The desperate, aching kind of love. The kind there’s no coming back from. The kind there’s no way out of. The kind that’s going to be the death of me one day.”
Your lips part, your eyes crinkling in a smile as you look at her. You can’t quite find the right words, so you press your lips against hers, attempting to convey the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. It goes unsaid, instead felt through your frenzied lips that you feel the exact same way. 
The kisses turn passionate, slower than you normally kiss Agatha. Her brain apparently starts to work again, turning lustful as her hands claw at the hem of your dress. You break the kiss laughing slightly as you help her take the soft fabric off. 
Your hands undo the buttons of her shirt as she hurriedly removes her jacket from her shoulders. Your dress lands somewhere on the floor, Agatha’s lips reattaching themselves to your neck and moving over the newly exposed skin towards your chest. 
As soon as you felt those sinful lips against your chest, you let out a gasp, the sound spurring Agatha into further action. Your fingers scramble, losing their grip on her infuriatingly small buttons as you close your eyes, lost in the feeling of Agatha’s teeth sucking your nipple between them. 
Agatha pulls away, her pupils blown as she takes you in. A flush is spreading down your chest, your hips rolling slightly as your fingers flex against her stomach. In an instant, she flips you until your back meets the bed, a soft grunt escaping your lips as you open your eyes in confusion. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” Agatha husks, her hands running all over your body. She pulls your underwear off in one smooth motion, before removing her own shirt. 
“But, we’ve been fucking for a while.” You say, your eyes glued to the lacy bra that Agatha reveals as she drops her shirt on the floor. Humming, she smiles as she slowly leans in to nuzzle against your neck. 
“This time is different,” Agatha’s words are quiet, and you nod immediately, knowing exactly what she means. At the feeling of your nod, Agatha leaves a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck as you squirm slightly. She slowly works her way down your body, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin as you feel your mind go hazy. 
Upon reaching the apex of your thighs, and admiring the slick juices leaking from you, Agatha removes her hands from where they were pinning your hips down. Your hips automatically start moving, rutting into the air as you search for some sort of friction. 
“Let’s play a little game.” Agatha mutters, watching your eyes light up at the idea. She reaches up, tangling her fingers with yours and pressing your conjoined hands into the mattress. “If you can come without my help, I’ll give you a reward.”
Your glassy eyes stare at her, not quite comprehending her words. At the confusion etched across your face, Agatha smirks, before dropping her face to your dripping pussy and sticking out her tongue. At the feeling of her strong muscle against you, your hips jerk and you understand what she meant. 
Agatha doesn’t move, her tongue still firmly against you as you grind against her face. Your back arches as you thrust harder, your orgasm nearing as Agatha squeezes your hands tighter. 
Stars erupt behind your eyes, and you can almost feel your consciousness drift off among the galaxies as your muscles tense and release. Agatha helps you ride out your high, her tongue swiping through your folds and collecting your cum as your hips stutter beneath her ministrations. 
“Fuck,” Agatha groans. You think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. 
Long fingers enter you, curling just right and coaxing forth the blazing arousal that had threatened to dissipate after your orgasm. You can feel your back arching, your hips thrusting in time with each stroke of Agatha’s fingers as your mind sinks further into that comfortable lavender-scented haze. 
“More.” You gasp, and Agatha wonders if you’ve realized what you're begging for. 
Practically slamming her fingers into your slick pussy, Agatha kneels, getting into a better position to fuck you. You moan, your throat slightly scratchy as you feel your arousal climb. Agatha watches your eyes roll back, your pleas becoming incoherent as your second orgasm washes over you. 
You moan, your hips stilling as you twitch from aftershocks. You vaguely feel Agatha pull her fingers from you, your eyes closed as you clutch the comforter beneath you. You can feel her pull away from you, the bed shifting as she moves off of it. Opening your eyes, you fight the haze that settles over your mind as you peer around the room for her. 
Agatha turns around, her eyes catching yours before your gaze moves further down. Her hand is slowly pumping over a deep purple strap-on, and you feel another wave of arousal rise as you weakly attempt to close your legs. 
Blue eyes narrow, and Agatha makes her way to the bed in a few, quick strides. Kneeling in front of your partially closed legs, she digs her nails into your inner thigh as she wrenches them open again. 
“Do not do that again.” Her voice is harsh, and you can’t stop the low moan that leaves you. “I’m giving you what you wanted.” She leans down, her lips now rough as she kisses over the dark hickeys she’d made earlier that night. Her hand replaces her lips, gripping your throat tightly as she moves her lips to your ear. 
“More.”
You can’t stop the throaty moan that leaves you, the sensations becoming overwhelming in an instant as your arousal skyrockets. You close your eyes again, feeling the warning squeeze against your throat, Agatha’s nails dragging down your taunt stomach, and the tip of the strap-on that she’s teasing your entrance with. 
In one quick movement, Agatha buries the strap into you, her own moan mixing with yours as your eyes snap open. There’s a burning sensation at your core, and as Agatha starts thrusting roughly into you, it melts into a white-hot pleasure. 
Your hands flail, not quite knowing what to do as your mind is thrown headfirst into the lavender-scented subspace you’ve grown so fond of. You can hear the slap of Agatha’s thighs hitting you with every thrust, her hand tight around your throat while the other grips your hip. Her pupils are blown, her eyes watching your face as your lips part and incoherent mumbles escape you. 
Agatha is so engrossed with watching your face, the way it scrunches up slightly when your orgasm is approaching, that she almost misses the soft words you say. 
“I love you.” Your eyes are sparkling, gazing up at her with so much emotion in them, Agatha feels her hips stutter slightly. You repeat it, a giddy smile appearing on your face, and Agatha just about loses her mind. 
Hips snapping roughly, the sound of Agatha’s strap fucking into you fills the room, your moans growing louder with each passing second. Blue eyes watch you come undone, your body spasming and tensing as a powerful orgasm rips through you. She watches, gently guiding you down, as a piece of herself she didn’t know was missing clicked back into place when your eyes bore into hers. 
You’re brought down with soothing words and praises, Agatha’s hands soft as they run over your trembling form. You barely feel her remove her strap, a warm feeling overtaking your chest as you watch her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of her room. 
Laying down, Agatha wraps an arm around you as you roll over, burying your face into her chest. She hums softly, tracing circles on your upper back as you let your mind leisurely emerge from the subspace it was deeply entrenched in. 
“So,” You say, your eyes dropping as a wave of tiredness washes over you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Of course, my love.” Agatha says gently, running her fingers over your face as you finally succumb to sleep. How could she say anything else? She’d been in love with you since the moment she’d laid eyes on you. You were the one dazzlingly bright light in her life, the mere thought of you bringing a sense of peace and contentment. She’d be a fool to let you go. In a few short words, she let the scorching heat of you draw her in, not caring if she burned in the process of loving you. “Of course.”
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professorsnape394 · 15 days ago
Text
Day 10: Dream Come True
Pairing: Severus Snape x ex-student
Rating: 🥵 ?
Prompt: Dream
Summary: Severus reunites with an old student of his and she is determined to live out her teenage dream.
A/N: Loved writing this one!! Hope ya'll have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.
Warnings: ex-student and teacher hooking up.
Word Count: 3170
Credits to Gif Creator
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Severus had always loathed Lucius Malfoy’s elaborate parties. He threw them multiple times a year, celebrating every possible occasion, and Severus almost always declined the invitation. While he would know most people in attendance, Snape wasn’t one to socialise and a party was his idea of literal hell. However, given that Lucius was the closest thing Severus had to a friend, he made a point to show face at one event each year; often staying for no longer than an hour or so and spending most of the time hauled up in the kitchen alone. Which is where he happened to find himself tonight.
Having already circulated the crowds earlier in the evening, Severus was simply buying time before he made his goodbyes and returned home to the peace of Spinner’s end. The drinks and food were set out on a banquet table in the drawing room of the manor, meaning he often had the kitchen entirely to himself to drink bottle after bottle of FireWhiskey alone.
This evening seemed to be following the same suit as usual, until his tranquillity was disturbed by the entrance of a familiar young woman and her absolutely foul mouth.
“Fucking disgusting shit. Who the fuck does he think I am. And why the hell is it blue?” She muttered to herself, staring deeply at the electric looking cocktail in her hand. She made a direct bee line for the sink and dumped the entire contents of her glass down the drain.
Severus couldn’t help but let out a small scoff of approval at the girl’s words. He, of course, recognised her from her time as a student at Hogwarts. Not only had he been the Head of her House, and Potion’s Master, he often found himself telling her off for her bad language at the risk losing points from the other professors. Severus himself didn’t mind it so much, in fact he found it rather amusing, which must explain why he was no where near as irritated as he usually would be by the disturbance.
“Professor Snape?”
The girl stopped in her tracks, eyeing the Potion’s Master appreciatively. Her tone had dropped to an almost sultry timbre.
Severus remembered now why he always seemed to be giving the girl into trouble. This particular young woman had not been nearly as discreet with her girlhood crush as she may have expected. It had been obvious to him that she acted out in his classes simply to get a rise out of him, and best-case scenario she would earn a detention, prolonging their time together. The latter Severus did not indulge, the last thing he needed was a hormonal teenager making heart eyes at him from across the classroom.
From the way she looked at him now, the young witch had yet to grow out of her school-girl crush. Feeling the effects of the sheet amount of alcohol he had consumed; Severus couldn’t resist raking his eyes over the woman’s figure in return. She was after all, no longer his student.  
While her bad habits still remained, her appearance had changed a lot in a few short years. Her hair was longer now, darker too; she wore it down as she always had, allowing it to flow down her back like a waterfall of obsidian waves. Her previously baby face had been replaced by much sharper features; high cheek bones and a defined jaw line, lips that sat in a permanent perfect pout, painted a deep shade of red that only enticed him further. The dress she wore, tight and black, displayed her curves from ever possible angle, the lowcut neckline drawing his eyes to the exposed swell of her breasts.
“Miss Y/L/N.” He stated simply, not allowing his voice to betray his less than appropriate thoughts.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She sauntered toward him, swaying her hips with each step.
It wasn’t lost on her that her old professor had just been checking her out, in fact she welcomed it. Since her crush on him first developed in her fifth year, she had long since dreamed of running into him again after she graduated. It pleased her to know that now they were reunited, he seemed to appreciate her just as much as she did him.
“I could say the same for you.” He raised a single eyebrow at her, his eyes never leaving her body as she approached.
“Not sure why.” She shrugged, settling against the kitchen island opposite him. “I’ve been at every party this year. Draco keeps inviting me.”
“As his date?” The simple question drew a wide smile from Y/N.
Was Severus Snape jealous?
“I assume so. But if he keeps making me drinks that look like the result of a chemical reaction, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
Severus scoffed again, amused by her words.
Y/N watched as took a long sip of his whiskey, draining the remainder of his glass.
“What are you drinking?”
“FireWhiskey.” He said plainly.
“Mind if I join you?”
Severus glanced at the woman out the corner of his eye as she came to lean on the cabinet next time him.
“Be my guest. However, this is the last of this bottle.” He said, as he filled his glass. “I’m sure there’s more in the next room, if you feel like re-joining the party.”
“Not particularly.” She huffed, folding her arms over her chest only to further accentuate her breasts. “Draco’s been fallowing me around like a lost puppy all night, I could really use a break.”
“And if I asked you to leave?” He tested, pining her with a stern gaze.
“I’d say tough. You don’t own this space, I have just a much right to be here as you do.” She never had yielded to his dominance.
“Well then.” He outstretched his arm to her, offering up his renewed glass of whiskey. “You might as well enjoy yourself while you’re here.”
Y/N accepted with a smile and a wink. Severus remained stoic, attempting to seem unfazed by her gesture. Y/N always knew Severus would be a tough nut to crack if this day came. But after years of dealing with a pining Draco, she could use the challenge.
“Why are you hauled up in here anyway? Avoiding someone?”
“Everyone.”
Severus couldn’t peel his eyes away from her mouth as she drank form his glass, her crimson lips staining the rim of the crystal. He felt his pulse quicken when her tongue darted out to collect any remnants of the amber liquid from her lips.
“Everyone?” She looked at him inquisitively, returning the glass to him. “Then why come at all if all you’re going to do is hide away in here the whole night.”
“Lucius is a friend. The least I can do is show face, but beyond I have no interest in attending these infernal events. So, I simply wait it out in here until such time as it is appropriate to leave.”
“Does it never occur to you that had you to actually venture out into the crowds, you might meet someone to help pass the time. A woman perhaps?”
Severus laughed into his glass, being careful to avoid the spot her mouth had just been. He knew this was her way of testing him, unfortunately he couldn’t help but fall for her bait; hook, line and sinker.
“I have no interest in any of the woman beyond that door.” His eyes finally met hers, their intense gazes boring into one another. A challenge to make the first move.  
“What about those within this room, professor.” Y/N dared to venture.
That final word shook Severus back to reality; the sudden realisation that he was entering dangerous territory with a former student had him eager to make a swift exit.
“I think that may be my queue to go.” He set his now empty glass back on the counter.
“Wait. Stay for one more.” She pleaded, gripping his bicep in one last desperate attempt. It worked, Severus hesitated at her touch.
“It may have escaped your notice, Miss Y/L/N, but not only is the bottle finished, but so too is my glass. There is no ‘one more’.”
“I know where Lucius keeps his private stash. Draco and I would break into it all the time when we were younger.”
Despite his brain telling him it was time to go, Snape couldn’t resist the appeal of the young woman in front of him; her doe like eyes begging him to stay. It was obvious she was just as enticed by him as he was of her. And the fact remained; she was no longer his student. Still, it seemed wrong somehow.
“That would explain all those parties in the Slytherin common room I was forced to disband.” Severus raised a questioning brow.
“Guilty.” She smirked.
“You know those were the bane of my life. Dealing with drunk and hungover underage students wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my weekends.”
“Just be grateful I was smart enough to avoid you, I can be quite the handful when I’m drunk.”
Severus didn’t know when she had gotten close to him again, but he wasn’t opposed to the way her hand rested on his chest as she fidgeted with the button of his robes.
“Show me.” He swallowed, nodding down to her.
Y/N led Severus through a door in the kitchen, to a wine cellar in the basement. In the corner of the room stood a solitary shelf of finely-aged whiskey, worth more than two teenagers could have even comprehended.
Snape watched on as the woman struggled to reach the top shelf where the best whiskey was kept. He made no attempt to look away when the hem of her dress began to slowly rise over the curve of her ass. He no longer felt so guilty checking her out down here in the dark.
“Clever girl.” Severus purred when Y/N handed him a dusty bottle for him to inspect. “These are what you stole?”
Y/N bit her lip and looked down guiltily.
“I don’t think we realised how expensive they were at the time. We just wanted to have a bit of fun.”
“Mmm. You always were trouble.” He eyed her once more.
“Still am.” She winked again.
Y/N led Severus back to the kitchen, leaving no trace of them behind besides the empty space on he shelf she had no intention of filling.
Despite the kitchen being full of glass and crystal ware, Severus opted to pour another singular glass for the two of them to share.
Y/N watched on fervently as Severus brought the glass to his lips, this time placing his mouth directly over where her lips had been. God, how she wished to know what his lips felt like on her, what he tasted like.
“Good?” She continued to look up at him, practically drooling now.
“Delicious.”
Y/N watched in awe as her ex-professor absent-mindedly run his tongue along a small part of the glass.
Without thought, Y/N brought a thumb to his mouth, brushing the pad gently across his bottom lip.
“Lipstick.” She explained. “Can’t have you leaving here looking like that, people will talk.”
“And what, exactly, will people say.” Severus closer to the young witch, his inhibitions slowly fading which each gulp of alcohol.
“They’d think you were with a woman.” She started, her voice now barely a whisper. “Of course, they wouldn’t know who at first. But seeing that colour on your lips, they’d begin to speculate. And when they saw me follow you out of here… We’ll they’d put two and two together, and jump to a whole lot of conclusions.”
“What sort of conclusions?” He passed the whiskey to her, allowing him to move closer still, their bodies close enough to touch.
“All kinds of things. The most obvious being that we kissed, but their minds wouldn’t stop there. Two people, alone in the kitchen at a party, we could have been up to anything in here.” With every word she spoke she drew Severus in closer, her lips calling to him like a siren to a sailor. “They’d assume we kissed. Maybe, we made out. But ultimately, they’re going to think we had sex. A teacher and his ex-student. How scandalous. There would be rumours about us; what we did in here. They’d say I seduced you with my body. They’d say you got me drunk. They’d say we fucked right here in the Malfoy’s kitchen, all while Draco searched the party for his supposed date.”
The mention of Draco began to boil Severus’ blood, he wasn’t oblivious to how close the pair were and he knew, if given the chance, Draco would have Y/N for his own. He wasn’t about to let that happen.
“Then let’s give them a reason to talk.” Severus stated firmly.
With his permission, Y/N threw herself at Severus. Her lips crashing to his hungrily. Like a starving hyena finally eating after being denied it’s prey for so long.
Practically throwing the whiskey glass aside, Y/N wrapped her arms around Severus’ neck, pulling her body closer to his. Severus felt his way around her; one hand coming to rest on the side of her face, the other gripping her rear possessively. The two became deaf to the world around them. Passion taking over as they devoured the other breathlessly.
Letting himself get carried away in the moment, it never occurred to Severus to move to a less public location. All sense of propriety gone with the taste of her lips.
Gripping her by her thighs, Severus lifted Y/N onto one of the kitchen cabinets, positioning himself between her open legs. Feeling the hardness of his cock at her core, Y/N let out a strangled moan.
Severus broke for breath, kissing his way down her exposed neck and chest, occasionally nipping at her pale white skin. Seconds before Snape was about to rip off the woman’s dress and fuck her in the middle of the kitchen island, footsteps and voices grew louder as they approached.
“Have you checked the kitchen, Draco? She can’t have gone far.”
“Not yet father, I’m just about to look.”
“Shit.”
“Fuck.” The pair swore in unison.
Y/N quickly jumped from her spot on the counter, making sure to right any clothing that may have gone awry. Severus let out a frustrated snarl at being torn away from Y/N.
“I’m going to kill that di-“
“Y/N?” Draco called out upon entering the room.
Neither Snape nor Y/N made an attempt to move away from the other.
“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Sorry Draco.” Y/N replied through gritted teeth. “I ran into Professor Snape. We we’re just catching up.”
“I see.” The younger Malfoy eyed them suspiciously. “My father is about to make an announcement,  he wants everyone to gather in the drawing room.”
“Of course.” She smiled falsely, making to meet Draco by the door.
“Here.” Severus stopped her, clenching his jaw and handing over the almost full glass of whiskey. “You’ll need it.”
“Thank you.” She grinned, lingering when his hand brushed against hers.
The three of them exited the kitchen and made their way through the manor; Severus taking a different route from the others, letting himself get lost in the crowd.
As soon as he was out of her sight, Y/N started to panic that she had missed her shot at the one thing she had been dreaming about since she was 15 years old. Draco had interrupted what was easily the hottest make out session of her life and now there seemed to be no chance of her and Snape actually finishing what they had started.
“What were you and Snape doing in the kitchen for so long?” Draco finally broke the awkward silence that had developed.
“Hmm. Oh, we we’re just having a drink together and chatted about all those times you and I pissed him off with our parties in the common room.”
“What are you drinking? What happened to the one I gave you?” He didn’t even seem to be listening to a word she was saying.
“Erm… I finished it. Sev- Snape poured me a glass of his whiskey.”
“That’s unusually kind of him.” Draco’s intense stare burned a hole in the side of her face.
“I suppose.” She shrugged. “I guess he just likes me.”
Draco didn’t get the chance to object before his father’s voice echoed through the room.
Zoning out after Lucius thanked everyone for coming, Y/N immediately began scanning the crowd for her beloved professor.
Having no luck even after the party commenced, Y/N downed the remains of her drink and followed Draco as he led her into the hall for a more private conversation. Backing her against the wall, Y/N had no way to escape the agony she was about to endure, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.
“Y/N.” He began with a deep breath. “As you know, we’ve been best friends since our first day at Hogwarts. Our families have been intwined since before either of us were even born. We’ve had our fair share of fun together; both as friends and otherwise.” He hinted towards the few drunken nights where they had casually hooked up. It had meant nothing to Y/N, clearly Draco did not feel the same way.
“This year I have felt our relationship has evolved past friendship, and I think it may be time we take the next step. I like you, Y/N. I want you to become my girlfriend, officially.”
“Draco…” She sighed. They had been over this before, she wasn’t interested in being anything other than friends, he just couldn’t take the hint.  
Before she had a chance to break the bad news to him a shadow fell over the pair; Severus Snape towered behind Draco, slapping a large hand on his suited shoulder.
“I’m afraid, Mr Malfoy, I do not believe Y/N is interested in pursuing a relationship with you.”
“Professor Snape.” Draco puffed his chest out, trying hard to hide the look of intimidation evident on his face. “With all due respect I don’t think this has anything to do with you.”
Severus moved the boy aside with ease, positioning himself between his two former students.
“I suggest you leave now, Malfoy, before your feelings get hurt.”
Severus did not warn him again. Instead, he took the opportunity to take Y/N in his arms and pick up exactly where they left off.
“Oh, thank god.” Y/N gasped, clutching at him desperately.
Just as passionately as before, Y/N captured Severus’ mouth with her own, pulling him in by his robes until their bodies were backed up against the wall.
“Want to get out of here?” Severus mumbled against her mouth.
“Fuck yes.”
Ignoring a dumbfounded Draco, the Potions Master and his former student made their way out of Malfoy Manor unable to keep their hands off one another.
Y/N’s dream was finally about to come true.
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hollowbutcanlove · 1 month ago
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Words feel like… Part I
Iso x fem!reader
warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex, alcohol, nsfw, ooc.
a/n: from sexual partners to lovers i think ^^
18+ only!!
words: 2003
pt II pt III pt IV pt V pt VI
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The evening promised to be unpredictable, because many protocol agents had problems with alcohol. More precisely, with the opportunity not to stop and cross the line of his maximum in drinking. You were one of them too, because you thought that youth was one thing and you shouldn't spend it too boring. And many people agreed with you. Therefore, only a few hours after the start of a small party in honor of Jett's birthday, everyone was already practically in a mess. There were no missions for the next few days, no one's conscience tormented them. You are stretched out on a soft pouf in the room of a girl with white hair. Drinking in the common room was not a very good idea - the elders did not approve of alcoholic gatherings of young people and would immediately disperse everyone to their rooms. Therefore, everyone decided to gather in the birthday girl's room in a friendly company.
Jett was already practically lying on the bed, dying with laughter from the jokes of Phoenix, who was sitting next to her, leaning against the wall and finishing another cocktail. It seems that most of those present had already lost consciousness and some were falling asleep. Killjoy and her girlfriend fell asleep in a corner of the room. You thought it was cute, so somehow taking your phone out of your pocket, you took some blurry pictures of the couple, then put the phone on the table and looked at Iso. He was sitting in a rather open position and was a little bored. You didn't know him very well, you only saw him a couple of times in the common rooms, because you've only recently been in the protocol. But one thing you knew for sure - this Chinese silent guy was pretty hot and if there was a chance, you would…
It seems he noticed your gaze and looked at you. A slight smile appeared on his bored face. He drank a little more than you, but he seemed to be more sober than anyone in this room. But this sudden smile…
"Yo, Iso, would you like a couple more cocktails from Clove? I swear, these are the most fucking drinks I've ever tasted."
"I'll pass," - the guy drawled without even turning around in the direction of Phoenix.
"But I'm ready to knock over a couple of glasses," - came the voice of Yoru, who had just returned from somewhere, but judging by the packages of various snacks, he was in the pantry.
"Y/N, and you? Won't you leave your bro?"
"That's enough for me, Phoenix, otherwise I'll ruin Jett's carpet with the contents of my own… stomach," - you hiccuped, then shook your head and reached for the juice pack.
Your hand suddenly came into contact with Iso's hand, and you looked at him with incomprehension. He took the bottle first and took a few sips, after which he handed the bottle to you, whispering something in your ear:
"In five minutes. At the door of my room."
After these words, he stood up and, after throwing a couple of farewell phrases, left Jett's room. Phoenix was clearly unhappy that the party was coming to an end, but he was immediately distracted by other guys, which made it easier for you to sneak out after five minutes.
And here you are standing near the door to the room And with. Unlike the other doors, there were no pranks on it, only a nameplate. You put your fist up to the door and didn't dare knock. There's a little doubt stuck in your head. Was it an alcoholic hallucination? Or did you just hear the wrong thing? Why would he even invite you to his room? Why…
But your thoughts were interrupted by the door that opened in front of you. A man's hand immediately pulled you inside without even letting you squeak. That's how you first found yourself in Iso's room, without even thinking that you would ever get here. And, surprisingly, the room turned out to be quite pleasant. The soft blue LED strips created a soothing environment. But you didn't have the opportunity to look into the small details, because Iso immediately attracted your attention and you even opened your mouth in surprise. He only stood in front of you in shorts, if they were shorts and not boxers. It is difficult to distinguish in the semi-darkness.
The blue light softly illuminated the reliefs of his body, which made you feel a pleasant itch somewhere in the lower abdomen. Your hands were raised and you didn't know where to put them: either to clench your fists and lower them, or to succumb to temptation and feel this relief, which the guy decided to put up for review. The door closed and you were at it in an instant, not knowing what to do. The whole situation has confused you. Or maybe not the sitation, but the appearance of the Iso.
"I want you," he said briefly.
Iso has never played games where there are hints and indecisive actions on which ridiculous guesses and theories are based. If he wants something or doesn't like something, he immediately talked about it. Or tactfully kept silent so that the conflict would not flare up in inappropriate conditions. That's why you liked him at the first meetings. Firm, decisive and honest - this is how he showed himself in his work. But what kind of person he was outside of missions, you didn't get the chance to find out. And now, it seems, is the chance. Unless, of course, you forget about it in the morning, because the blood alcohol level was high and you were already gradually ceasing to think adequately.
His hands were on either side of your shoulders, and his hot breath was scorching your face. There was no smell of alcohol - apparently he managed to eat a mint gum to kill the smell at least for a while. The Iso did not take any action. He was waiting for some action or words from you.
"I… "- you were speechless because of how exciting the situation was. -"I want you…too…"
Before you could finish, Iso bit into your lips with his own. After that, your head completely turned off and you succumbed to the rush of passion. Your hands ended up on his abs, which made the guy flinch slightly. The temperature difference between your cool palms and his hot body was small, but noticeable. The black-haired guy snuggles up to you, putting one knee between your thighs, and then one of his hands comes down to your chin. He runs his fingers along the line of your chin, after which he smoothly lowers his hand to your chest and squeezes it, from which you squeeze his knee with your legs because of a pleasant wave of goosebumps on your body. You decide to keep up with him and your hand goes lower, feeling his boner through the fabric of his boxers. (They were still boxers, damn it). He moans into your lips, then breaks the kiss and rests his head against the door, starting to breathe heavily.
You start rubbing his erect penis with smooth movements, sometimes lingering at the head and massaging it a little longer than the trunk itself. The size is impressive to the touch, although you thought Asians had relatively small penises. His hand started going down to your pants, too. Iso strokes your buttocks, then squeezes one of them. You exhale noisily and bury your forehead in his shoulder. His massive back practically blocked your view. It was as if you were thinking about the same thing, because almost simultaneously you decided to get your hands under each other's clothes and start masturbating already. Despite the fact that Iso is usually a man of few words, now he was very generous with various sounds, which made you even more excited.
You sank your teeth into his shoulder as soon as he felt your clitoris and began gently massaging it. Now you're panting too. After a few minutes of such manipulations, you finally began to feel the excitement creeping up on you.
"Please continue..Iso…" - you whispered softly, without stopping working with your hand.
"Zhao Yu," he breathed. - "Oh..Call me Zhao Yu."
"Please, Zhao," you didn't have time to finish, as a wave of orgasm swept through your entire body, your legs weakened and you literally hung on to the guy. - "Yu-yu…"
"Fuck," he croaked, and then he gently picked you up and carried you to the bed.
His bed smelled of lavender conditioner and the perfume that Iso uses. The fragrance was pleasant and sweet, like some kind of herb with spices. You were still in the aftertaste of orgasm, so you looked at the guy with half-closed eyes and breathed heavily. He was pulling off your sweatpants, followed by a T-shirt and underwear on the floor. He was looming over you and for the first time you saw him so… so greedy and hungry. Although, maybe it seemed that way to you because of the effects of alcohol.
Iso bent down to your neck and inhaled your scent, then moaned softly. One of his hands gently descended on your stomach, then sank lower, right to the entrance of the vagina. He held his palm several times, collecting the moisture that had managed to flow out of you, after which he put two fingers inside at once, from which you mumbled.
"Are you in pain?" he asked, lifting his head.
"Not really," you muttered. "It's just… I haven't had sex in a while."
"Huh," he breathed out and began to slowly move his fingers inside you, gradually stretching. - "I'll be gentle, don't worry."
And he didn't lie. After carefully stretching, he began to slowly enter. But, surprisingly, you didn't feel any pain - it looks like you were very excited, which caused enough lubricant to stand out, and Iso did a good job. When he entered completely, you moaned quite loudly.
"Shhh," he hissed in your ear. "No one should hear what we're doing. Do you agree?"
"Yes," you whispered.
"I'm starting to move. Tell me if it's unpleasant " - despite the alcohol and the overwhelming desire to have sex, he was careful in his actions. As if this wasn't the first time this had happened to him.
You just nodded at his words and he started moving slowly. And it was accompanied, of course, by his quiet moans and growls, which you enjoyed more than the process itself.
With each thrust, he began to accelerate a little bit, until his pace became very fast, which made the sound of clapping noticeably louder. He may even have stopped realizing at least something about what was happening. Iso simply succumbed to desires. You dug your nails into his back, making small, low moans. He went in as deep as no one else. Maybe it was the influence of alcohol, but damn it, even without clitoral stimulation, you felt good.
"Zhao Yu-yu," you moaned from time to time.
Because of the fast movements, your hands were sliding down, so you had to constantly lift them back to their original place. Iso suddenly began to moan more intermittently and loudly, after which he leaned over and kissed you. He moaned into your mouth, starting to move more and more unevenly, and eventually made a final push and pressed against you. He pulled back and tried to catch his breath.
"Mmm, - your consciousness began to grow cloudy, it looks like such an energy-consuming process and alcohol began to bear fruit. And you blacked out.
Iso was looking at you in his bed and breathing deeply. His heart was still beating wildly, and his body was in ecstasy for some time. If it wasn't for the alcohol intoxication, he would have cleaned up now and carried you back to the room. But he suffered the same fate as you. Iso blacked out after you.
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ieatfanficforbrunch · 10 months ago
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Steve is Worthy
He based all his self-worth on others. He knows he got it from years of living with his parents for so long.
They were by no means rich, just rich for Hawkins. Lowest High Class if you will. With that came the constant reminder of their Reputation. His father was an Assistant Director for Coke-a-cola and, whether he liked it or not, the Harringtons were in the public domain.
Of course, that meant he had to be perfect, there was no choice.
When he was three, his father took him to a store to get a toy for his birthday. Little Steven in his kakis and a sweater vest with a collar, wanted a baby doll.
He picked one out, something perfect for him. A baby doll with dark hair and blue eyes. Its body was a cloth material, and its head, arms, and legs were plastic. It came with a bottle and a pacifier; it was everything the toddler could ever dream of.
When he picked up the toy it was ripped from his hands, his father scowling down at him.
“You know better Steven. If you want to make me proud, go find a car. Honestly, what must I have done to get a son who wants a doll?” The words brought tears to his eyes, but he knew better than to cry, he was a boy, and he needed to act like one.
When he turned seven his mother threw him a birthday party. He was grateful, ecstatic that his friends from school would be coming to see his room and his cake. He picked out the best cake in the world, a small one with delicate flowers in blue and white. It was perfect for him, soft and gentle.
His parents told him to stay in his room until 6:30, his mother specified that he needed to wear the outfit she chose for him. He waited for hours, excited at getting to celebrate his special day. When the clock struck 6:30 he took the stairs two at a time, excited to see what his mother had planned.
When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t see any of his friends from school, he didn’t even see any kids. There were adults from his father’s company, all with a glass in their hand. On the kitchen table there sat a small blue cake with a baseball bat on it, not a single flower in sight.
His eyes once again burned but he knew better than to cry.
“We have to keep up appearances, Steven,” his mother said, “Your friends are not good enough for you, you are no longer prohibited to speak to them. As for the cake, you know better. Flowers are for girls; you are a boy. Your father has signed you up for baseball, basketball, and the Swim team. I expect you to attend every practice.”
Steve just nodded.
For years he did everything they said, everything they wanted him to do. His mother picked out his outfits, his father found suitable friends for him. Those friends made the decisions for him, he followed along blindly. He knew that the only way he was worth anything was if he was perfect and obedient.
He would go to every event his father told him to, only date who his parents allowed, and never once did he step out of line, because when it was all over and he got an award or a date or a good grade he would be rewarded with a “well done, Steven,” from his father.
When his parents bought an apartment close to his father’s office, Steve was left to take care of the house. He was left without direction. He was free.
The first thing he did was get in a fight with Johnathan Byers, the second was kicking his friends to the curb, the third was getting broken up with, and the fourth was fighting an interdimensional monster.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he also (accidentally) became the ‘mother’ to the nerdiest kids on planet Earth.
From a young age, he learned that his worth as a person was connected to what he could give people. For these kids, he would give protection, free movies, and his life if it ever came to it.
Robin tried to help him realize his worth as Steve, but nothing worked, and then things went from bad to worse.
Steve was shell-shocked, to say the least, as he carried Eddie’s limp, bleeding body through the upside down. He was desperate, Desperate to make himself useful, desperate to save his new friend and lover, he needed to be useful.
He got Eddie out of the Upside down, to a hospital, and in the care of the only people who could help him. Then, he waited.
He didn’t get treated, couldn’t, wouldn’t, because one of the kids may need that help, or the earthquake victims, or anyone who wasn’t him.
Robin could only sit by and watch, knowing that Eddie was the only person who could convince Steve that he was worth enough to get his wounds treated.
Eddie woke up 6 days later to Steve holding his hand.
The lights were bright, the sounds were loud, and everything was cold. Everything except Steve. His skin was like fire against his.
Eddie blinked slightly, glancing around the room. Wayne was in the corner, sleeping in some terrible chair, Dustin was asleep on a tiny cot next to the bed, and Robin was leaning up against the wall.
“What happened…?” Eddie asked her.
Robin sighs, “Your Stevie here carried you out, got you to a hospital. The doctors said you should heal with minimal damage, but it will take a couple of weeks…”
Eddie nods, asking, “Is he…okay?”
Robin pinches the bridge of her nose, a habit she picked up from being around Steve so much, “He’s refusing treatment, says the supplies need to go to people who actually need it…I think the wounds are getting infected…”
Eddie sighs softly before gently shaking Steve’s shoulder.
“Stevie…Baby, wake up, it’s time you go to the doctor,” Eddie whispers.
Steve grumbles softly before opening his eyes. A smile spreads across his face as soon as he sees Eddie. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Eddie pulled Steve to his chest. The embrace was anything but silent, sniffles, escaped sobs, giggles, and even ‘I missed you’s are shared between the two.
Eddie doesn’t let Steve leave his chest as he talks, “Ok Stevie, time to get those bites taken care of…yea? Scars are Metal, dying because of infection…not so much.”
Steve looks up at him, prepared to protest, but Eddie shushes him, getting a bitchy glare from Steve.
“Come on Baby, please. You are so important to me, and I need you to get better, ok? I don’t care if you think those people need it more, you not only helped save the world, but you saved my life. Do you understand? No one in this world deserves to be patched up more than you,” Eddie whispered, cupping both Steve’s cheeks.
Silent tears stream down his face and he reluctantly nods. Robin immediately runs to get a nurse.
“You are my everything Steve, my entire world. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. You are Worth Everything. Ok? Everything,” Eddie says, gently kissing Steve’s cheek, then his other cheek, then his forehead, then his chin, then his nose, and finally his lips.
Steve smiled, getting the treatment he not only needed but deserved. He was moved into Eddie’s room where he was showered with love, affection, and encouragement. He felt happy, he felt loved, and, most importantly, he felt worthy.
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notintattooine · 1 year ago
Text
sleepovers | anakin skywalker
warnings: 18+ established relationship, nipple play, oral (f receiving). not proofread.
a/n: i love dilf! anakin, he lives in my head rent free <3 also if you’re a minor, go read something else! also first post!!! hi!!!
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the twins’ toys were scattered across the living room floor, crayons and coloring pages sprawled out along the kitchen table. remnants of children you had just dropped off for a sleepover at the kenobi’s. the sound of anakin’s car roared into the garage, followed by his jogging up the steps.
“ah hi gorgeous.” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“hi ani, how was work?” you ask, inhaling the scent of oil mixed with his cologne.
“alright, missed you.” he mumbled, pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat.
anakin flooded your senses, everything was just so perfect and him. pawing at him you pushed him away. “I thought we were going to have a date night.”
“actually, i bought us something.” anakin said, rummaging through the fridge. “ah ha!”
pulling out a bottle of wine, he held it up triumphantly before grabbing two glasses out of the cupboard. he fished around in the drawers for a corkscrew before finding one, opening the bottle and pouring some in each glass.
“i was thinking we could spend the night in?” anakin smiled, raising his eyebrows. “drink some wine, watch a movie.”
“oh cause we always get so far into the movie.” you chuckled, taking the glass he offered you. “fine. i'm picking though.”
“yes ma’am.” raising his hand in defense, he smiled.
you flipped through netflix before deciding on a horror film. laying against anakin, you occasionally took a sip of wine or pressed a kiss to his cheek.
-
you made it around fifteen minutes in before anakin placed his hand on your thigh. definitely a new record, you thought to yourself before turning to him.
“watch the movie.” he scolded. he was focused on the screen, but his hand said otherwise.
if he wanted to play that game you could too, pressing your lips to his most sensitive spot behind his ear, you lightly nibbled. his body immediately tensed and you could feel him resisting the urge to moan.
before you could register, he had you pinned to the couch. hovering above you, he ran his gaze along your body like an animal. smiling he leant down, capturing your lips in his. he kissed you hard and fast, tongue slipping in and out of your mouth. his hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head.
“ah there’s my girls.” he chuckled as your bare breasts were exposed.
kissing from your lips down your chin he smiled against your skin. finally he reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth he lightly bit it, causing a jolt to shoot through your core.
“oh fuck.” you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders.
“aw is my baby sensitive?” he mocked, biting harder, earning a yelp.
he continued his assault on your breasts till your eyes were brimming with tears and the flesh was purple.
“take these off.” he said, motioning to your jeans. “now.”
nodding furiously, you fumbled with the buttons before pulling them down. kicking them off in any direction you gazed up at him.
“those too.” he said, nodding toward your underwear.
making quick work of them, you were completely bare in front of him. the blue is his eyes was blown into lust, but there was an underlying softness as he gazed at you.
beginning at your nose, he pressed kisses all the way down to your tummy before smiling up at you.
“god been thinking about this pussy all day.” spreading your thighs, as he smiled up at you.
like a man starved he dove in, latching his lips to your clit. startled moans leaving your lips as he lapped at your core. every flick of his tongue was more and more intense, your wetness coating his face and chin.
“ani, want you-“ you whined, but if he heard you he ignored it.
making out with your core, he was rock hard occasionally rutting into the mattress for relief. his moans vibrated up and you swore you could feel them in your chest.
“ani- fuck. so close.” you warned, trying to pull him back but it only seemed to encourage him.
then it hit you, pure white bliss while you involuntarily squeezed his face with your thighs. closing your eyes, you fell against the pillows, chest heaving.
“oh sweet girl, i’m just getting started.” anakin smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his lips.
the kids should go to more sleepovers.
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temozarela · 10 months ago
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-> spectating
GOJO X GETO X READER MDNI, smut, masturbation, dubious consent, rough sex, anal sex, tears, bottom gojo, top geto
whoever decided to play seven minutes in heaven with three people owed you. no, they really owed you
WORD COUNT: 2k
ao3 version
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
It had been Gojo’s turn to spin the bottle, and when the green glass neck had pointed at you, your cheeks had burned with embarrassment. No, maybe anticipation. Perhaps you had been shy in the spotlight of his amused gaze. It didn’t matter, because when the bottle had spun again and pointed at Geto, you wanted to bury your head in your hands. They weren’t exactly quiet about their sex life, and since The Incident of 2015, you knew that a third party wouldn’t deter them from their goal. So there you were, palms pressed against the door behind you as you leaned against the wall, the two men already lip-locked. Cucking the worst people you knew hadn’t been on your to-do list but seemingly God endorsed spontaneity. You guessed he also endorsed plain cruelty. Gojo whimpered against Geto’s lips as the buttons of his shirt were undone, the white linen crumpling on the floor. His torso was toned… No fuck that, he was ripped. His biceps and abs rippled with each frantic pull at Geto’s body, his stomach hollowing with each desperate breath. Pink blossomed over his pale chest, matching the rosy nubs of his nipples. In any other circumstance, you may have teased him for the way his upper body curved in a gentle hourglass. Girls would kill for that figure, you thought begrudgingly. Then Geto’s Hawaiian shirt was lost and your mind buffered. Nipple piercings. Geto had nipple piercings. They were gold and gorgeous, barely exposed to your wide eyes before they were being pulled and pinched between Gojo’s fingers. He was even bigger than Gojo. Gojo was lean, but Geto was built. There wasn’t an inch of tanned skin that wasn’t stretched by bulging muscle.
Gojo tipped his head back and moaned breathily as Geto peppered kisses down his throat. It occurred to you then that they had barely acknowledged you. However, their bad etiquette disappeared from your mind as Geto sucked at Gojo’s milky neck, leaving red and purple bruises as he went. The room you were in was suddenly filled with wet smacking noses as his lips and tongue worked at the pristine skin. With mild dread and overwhelming anticipation, you noticed that Gojo’s long fingers were working at his own belt. As soon as it was thrown to the floor, his black jeans bunched around his ankles and he was left in only his tight, blue boxers. You couldn’t even pretend not to see the massive mountain in the fabric. Everything began to feel far too real as your lustful stare honed in on the wet spot at the summit. Geto pulled away and assessed Gojo’s crotch. It was then, the man spared you a distracted look.
“If you get off to this, I won’t blame you.”
His voice was low and smooth. It wasn’t an instruction, nor was his tone forceful, but you sank to the ground. Once Geto had returned his attention to rubbing his thumb over Gojo’s clothed tip, you felt under your skirt for your panties, not able to take your eyes off them. When your fingers found the lacy fabric, you slipped them under it. Soaked. A spike of pleasure rippled through you as you experimentally rubbed your clit. Fuck. Gojo moaned sluttily as his boxers were pulled down his long legs. Fuck. His cock sprung up, his tip touching his stomach. Fuck. You hadn’t seen many cocks before in your life, maybe one or two in person, but you knew he wasn’t small. The head was pink, so glossy with precum that it looked like it was carved from rose quartz. Your fingers had returned to subtly spreading your slick up and down between your folds, resisting the urge to jolt every time your fingertip brushed your sensitive clit. Geto’s jeans were next, his boxers pulled down with them. He was smaller than Gojo in length, but thicker and- fuck, his tip was pierced. Their naked bodies collided with a slap, their hands roaming, grabbing, scratching, and pulling as they sloppily made out. If you weren’t so absorbed with the way their cocks twitched and rubbed together as their hips absentmindedly thrusted in an animalistic frenzy, you may have noticed Gojo’s whiny pleads as Geto’s palms slid lower and lower down his back. Your fingers had sped up on your clit as Gojo bit down on Geto’s shoulder.
“Please, please, fuck! Suguru, please-” Gojo whimpered, clawing at Geto’s back as he licked the bite mark on his shoulder almost apologetically. “Pleasepleaseplease, I wanna cum-”
“Patience, Satoru,” Geto cooed as his finger prodded Gojo’s opening, “Good things come to good boys who wait.” That must have been the moment when he pressed down on Gojo’s hole, because Gojo trembled. Geto pulled back his hand to spit on his fingers before returning to their previous position. You watched, breath held, as Geto slipped a finger in. Gojo wailed, cock jumping at the intrusion. And you? You were dripping onto the cold tiles below you.
It must have been seven minutes by now.
Watching Gojo be stretched by Geto’s fingers was erotic, to say the least. You had never seen Gojo so submissive. If you had it in you, it would’ve made amazing bullying material. Another finger went in, and Gojo buried his face in the crook of Geto’s neck, moaning like a bitch in heat with each movement of the digits inside of him. Soon enough, Gojo must have been deemed loose enough, because Geto slammed him against the wall next to you. Startled, you shuffled back, hand still nested inside your panties. Though the assholes didn’t acknowledge it of course, because Geto was now positioned at Gojo’s entrance and pushing in.
It was far too much excitement for one night, a voice at the back of your head reasoned, but was drowned out by the mantra of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck’ which echoed from every corner of your mind like a tornado siren. Gojo’s blunt nails clawed against the wall as crystalline tears began to drip down his flushed cheeks. The pinkness of his under-eyes only emphasised the startling blueness of his azurite irises, the tears glinting in the low light like diamonds. A familiar burning in your lower body caused you to tip your head back, your eyes fluttering shut against your will as you attempted to stave off your orgasm. Next to you, the wet slaps of the boys’ bodies got faster, Geto’s low grunts and Gojo’s whorish mewls and cries fuelling your imagination as your back arched. You edged yourself, tearing your hand from your panties at the last minute. Then, you opened your eyes. One thing you realised, was that you weren’t prepared for the sight in front of you. You hadn’t realised that they’d changed positions, and this was so much more… intense. Gojo now had his back to the wall, long legs wrapped around Geto’s string hips and arms around his shoulders. One hand had found purchase in Geto’s hair, pulling the ebony strands with strength which might have made you wince if you weren’t so turned on, the other hand was leaving fresh, red lines across Geto’s shoulder blades, droplets of ruby blood welling up in his wake. You might have felt sympathetic for Geto, if his teeth weren’t buried in Gojo’s trapezius as he snarled against the sore flesh. Amongst the moans and vicious sounds of skin-to-skin contact, a faint shuffling noise was coming from where Geto had set a punishing pace, fucking Gojo into the wall and moving him up and down the wooden columns. At a closer glance, Gojo’s cock was bouncing with every thrust into the air. He was so wet. Precum was dripping from his slit like a leaky faucet, creating a loud schlick noise as Geto’s hand worked his cock in time with his thrusts as he abused his prostate and sensitive shaft simultaneously. Your hand was back on your clit before you knew it. Fuck waiting for those two. You tried to set your pace with Geto’s powerful thrusts, but it made you over-sensitive, so you slowed down, leaving the abuse to the other two.
“Suguru, fuck! Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Gojo screamed, his grip on Geto’s shoulders leaving red marks. He humped the air uselessly as Geto released his grasp, effectively edging him.
Geto grinned, his expression edging on animalistic. “Now, what did I say about patience?” He sped up his thrusts, almost out of malice as Gojo whined, shaking his head.
“I wanna cum- ���Guru! Please- fuck! Lemme! I’ll be good!”
Gojo’s cheeks were wet with tears as Geto laughed, reaching to cup his face with one hand. In return, Gojo seemed to give him his best puppy eyes. With his eyes shrink-wrapped in tears, he almost looked adorable, you thought. There was definitely a ‘please, sir’ thrown into that stare, but maybe a ‘daddy’ too, if you looked hard enough. It came across that then Geto decided to be merciful as he reached with his other hand to massage the base of Gojo’s cock, his thumb tracing a prominent vein at the bottom of his shaft. With the hand cradling Gojo’s face, Geto tapped his red, bitten lips with his thumb, slipping it inside when Gojo ever-so obediently opened his tongue and stuck his tongue out.
“I have a feeling they might get fed up and open the door soon…” Geto cocked his head, slowly fucking Gojo’s mouth with his thumb as he jerked him off in ernest, “As much as I’d like them to see you like this…” He mused, “I’d hate to leave our witness disappointed.”
You straightened up a little at some sort of acknowledgment.
“Yeah, don’t leave me traumatised and blue balled.” You muttered, tracing circles around your clit, stalling.
Geto hummed in acknowledgment, “You hear that, Satoru?” He whispered, looking into Gojo’s half-lidded eyes, “It’s the least you could do.”
Geto removed his thumb from his mouth, licking the excess of saliva which dripped from the appendage. His pace of his hips and hand sped up and Gojo moaned, mouth wide open as he clumsily gripped the sides of Geto’s face, leaning forward to lethargically lick into the other man’s mouth in what, you guessed, was an attempt to make out. After sucking on Geto’s lower slip he leaned back again, a mixture of their saliva dripping from his glistening lips.
“Fuck, Suguru…” Gojo whined, fucking faster into Geto’s hand, “Oh fuck, I think…” He swallowed, “I think I’m gonna-”
Geto shushed him, his thumb moving to rub the tip of the other man’s cock. Gojo’s legs trembled, his moans getting higher in pitch and volume as his back arched. Your own pace sped up as you rubbed your clit, the noise of the copious amount of slip dripping from you was almost embarrassing. With a final twitch of his cock, Gojo squirted over his own abdomen, his seed dribbling over the contours of his abs. Then, Geto sped up, and so did you. You were the first to cum, clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and swelled. Then Geto, whose thrusts slowed as he pumped Gojo full of his spend.
When they were done, Gojo swore loudly.
“Fuck! My back!” He scowled, stretching stiffly.
Geto laughed.
You adjusted yourself, albeit awkwardly, as you stood, attempting to erase any evidence of the fact you had just gotten off to the most obnoxious couple in the friend group.
“Not even a warning?” You spare them a withering glare, and they freeze comically. Gojo scratched the back of his head sheepishly whilst Geto just smiled, slyly.
“What? Are you complaining?” Geto teased.
Your cheeks felt warm, “No.”
Gojo looked up from where he had started wiping cum from his inner thighs and chest, “No?” He grinned.
Geto narrowed his eyes as he looked at Gojo, “Is that my shirt?” Gojo winced.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Leaving that room was the single most awkward thing you had ever done. It had been over twenty minutes. Twenty. You weren’t scared for Gojo and Geto, since everyone either knew what had happened, or didn’t want to. No, everybody wanted to know what you had done. You weren’t exactly proud of it.
You had leaned over to Gojo before you left the room, your voice a hushed whisper.
“Can you just say we had a threesome? I don’t want people knowing that I got off to you two.”
“Ha! Sure.”
151 notes · View notes
the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago
Text
Hopelessly
Tumblr media
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating SMUT
Requested :
Yess ty fiction which, I also have an idea so idk if u watched the show yet (u probably did) but the main girl lady belle, can u make it were y/n likes Jack and he likes us but y/n gets jealous and upset bc she thinks Jack likes lady belle and not us. It’s just a thought
I scampered my feet up the stairs of the hospital, My feet ached, my legs sore, and my lungs short of breath from the fact since first light I hadn't so much as sat down for more than a few seconds. But I was fueled by the power to lift four carriages and run from Port Victoria to Brisbane. I opened the door to the surgery theatre prep room where the tools, ties and other such items were laid out for the various surgeries. 
And there He stood.
Fixing up his sleeves as he was selecting between what blades he was to use today for the amputation. His dark brown shoes were caked with dusty dry dush dirt, and his brown trousers were patterned with a slightly darker brown plaid almost unnoticeable, his shirt typically white but dark around the sleeves from the constant blood it soaked in, his dark blue waistcoat done up tightly and the green tie around his neck in a double knot, His hair freshly fluffy in its usual style leaving me to assume he likely had a bath today, or yesterday night soon enough for his hair to still be that fluffiness. 
"The Medicine Doctor Dawkins," I smiled doing my best not to turn the colour of a bright poppy flower, my heart skipped a beat seeing him, my breath hitching, every ache or concern from the day work melted into the least of my concerns each one of them worth it for the mere sight of him. 
I had worked at the hospital as long as I could remember having taken over the role from my mother, I was technically a laundry and kitchen girl by definition but my role had changed since Doctor Dawkins arrived, we found quickly we had a mindset that worked similarly so often if he needed anything I'd be the one he would summon about it, and at this point I had all but become his scullery girl as well as all my other jobs around the hospital, but I didn't mind at all. Every moment with him was worth ten times the work I put in.
I was utterly, unequivocally, Hopelessly devoted to him. 
"Ahh." He perked up looking over to me a smile growing across his lips "There you are. I was wondering where my little nursey got herself off to." He chuckled cleaning his hands off, I blushed at his use of that name, his 'little nursey'. I wasn't a nurse of course but he had called me that as long as I remember but I didn't mind, I couldn't bear to stop him as my heart would flutter whenever I heard it. 
"Fetching the medicine, as you requested" I smiled taking it over to him 
"Thank you very much." He said taking the glass bottle from my hand his fingertips gracing my own as he did, taking the bottle and staring at diluting a dose for the patient, I merely stood beside him taking in the curves and valleys of his face, noticing my theory correct he must have had a bath this morning as I could smell his usually pine and eucalyptus soap as well as his familiar aftershave that I could only describe as addicting and heavenly. He glanced at me from his work his eyes flicking to me a moment "You have somewhere to be?"
"Ohh no, not really." I lied, I had a million jobs I could be rushing off to get on with but I wanted every single second I could get in this room alone with him,  
"Good. You can keep me company then." he smiled 
"You don't mind? I'll go if I'm any trouble." 
"No, you're no trouble nursey" He smiled "Could you fetch my apron for me?"
"Of course" I nodded rushing across the prep room to fetch it for him returning within a few small seconds 
"It's not a race you know. Take your time slow down" He chuckled slipping it on and quickly tieing it the way he liked it
"I just don't want to keep you waiting," I blushed 
"You are such a sweet little thing. Why can't all the nurses be like you." He said as his patient was brought into the theatre the crowd let into the stands to watch too "I'll see you later Nursey," he smiled taking my hand in his and giving my knuckles a sweet polite kiss before he headed out to the applause of the crowd. My body was utterly frozen as he had left me my heart beating out of my chest. My god I am a sinful girl. Unable to prevent my eyes from lingering. 
I stood in the prep room almost unable to move watching through the window as he worked, he moved almost in slow motion to me his every move being carefully chiselled on my mind, the sweetest sound playing in my mind drowning out the sound of the bloodthirsty crowd. Unable to prevent my smiles and my blush, I'm sure if surgeons had fan clubs I'd be at the head of his, I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help my devotion to him, praying mightily that he would one day see my unquestionable devotion and admiration, take me in his arms and make me his bride. But so far that had only been a wish, a several-year-long wish. I knew I was down badly, but I couldn't draw myself away, so much so he could tie me to the operating table and remove my arm without any painkillers, using a rusty blade and I would still thank him immensely. he could drag me by my hair though the graveyard and still I would only give him smiles, he could take my innocence and slap me across the arse and still I would be at my knees for him. Not that he would, I hope. 
"Y/n. Laundry." The head nurse Hetti snapped in my direction as she passed the door 
"Yes, Miss." I nodded quickly scampering out and down to the laundry room stopping short as I closed the door finally being alone again holding my hand tightly and pressing a kiss to my knuckle just where he had kissed hoping perhaps to get a taste of his lips. 
I finished for the day scrubbing at my body before slipping on my little nightie and climbing into my little bed, I took my book from the table and began to read the fantastical stories leaning my head against my pillow that sat vertically on my bed as if another body rested in it, so I rested my head there reading for a good hour or so before setting my book down and blowing out the candle, I turned over and wrapped my arms around the pillow resting my head as if I was hugging a body even wrapping my leg around it nuzzling my head into the soft cotton. 
"Ummmm..." I hummed "Goodnight Jack," I whispered giving my pillow a little kiss, and I closed my eyes tight my mind dreaming of his sweet voice whispering to me 'Goodnight my little nursey' before I drifted into my dreams.
When the sun came I woke early far earlier than I needed to be, but that was fairly normal. I stirred and shuffled in my sheets feeling the tension that had built between my legs from my sweet dreams, I glanced over my shoulder to my table to see my little clock knowing I had enough time for what my body so obviously wanted, I blushed hard giving my pillow a little kiss "Good morning" I cooed in a whisper rubbing my nose against the cotton, I adjusted myself a little moving my hand down to my thigh, tugging up my cotton nightie and slipping my hand under it meeting the heat between my legs I did gently stroke my skin but I knew quickly that already wasn't necessary, my fingers finding my already aching clit and rubbing little circles "Uhhh" I gasped quietly 
"Ummm good Morning my little nursey, aww whats this? you've been dreaming about me again?" he cooed between kisses down my neck "Well, I can hardly leave my little nursey like this can I?" his hands stroking over my body touching my most intimate places fondling my breasts, slapping my ass and replacing my hand with his own rough more callus fingers 
I slipped my fingers inside me using my index and ring fingers as they were longer and thus It made it more believable in my mind that they were his, "Uhhh! Jack!" I gasped as hushed as I could in the quiet morning light 
"Umm, what a good girl, say it again. tell them who you adore." He smirked mercilessly kissing me and touching me tugging on my nipple to harden it into his hand which he then plaid with 
"Uhh! Jack! please-" I gasped my other hand clutching my breast to rub and twist my nipple to match my fantasy to my pleasurable reality 
"You are so beautiful when you're like this for me. you're making me hard. My sweet little nursey going to take care of her doctor?" he encouraged "Come on, you know you want to?"
I blushed hard moving to sit up in bed and move my thighs to either side of the pillow, my hands still working hard 
"Ohhh that's perfect, You look so beautiful on top of me y/n. go on. you know I can't resist you like this." 
I moved my hand away and tightened my grip on the pillow with my thighs moving my hips back and forth grinding against my pillow riding it as if it really was him, the cotton and stuffing of the firm pillow rubbing against my clit each time I moved my hips "UUuuhh! Jack!" I gasped clamping a hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet knowing... the real Jack slept just on the other side of the wall in his own room and bed. 
"Ohh fuck- You are so beautiful. I wanna see you cum for me." He growled 
"Uhh uhhh" I whined quietly hearing my bedsprings begin to squeak as I sped up 
"Aww, what a good girl, My good little nursey. Come on let me see that body I love so much"
even if I was alone I tugged down my nightie to my waist exposing my bare breasts as I bounced and grinded  "Uhh Please jack..." I whined feeling close, playing with my breasts and nipples to give myself more pleasure and my wave hit suddenly my legs clamping on the pillow squirt flooding down my legs and onto my sheets and nightie, the wave of pleasure flooded from my head to the tips of my fingers and toes like a wave on the beach, "Uuuughhhhh!" I moaned luckily I put my hand there quickly to keep me quiet and as I reached such a high I heard a firm double knock on my bedroom wall just inches from me and I knew why. 
I blushed hard seeing the mess I had made and I fixed my nightie kissing my pillow before I climbed off, and made sure to tug my nightie down grabbing my cardigan and slipping it over my shoulders as I left my room going only a few inches down to the other door opening it without much of a concern finding myself inside his room. The room was littered with items his bed in the corner against the wall he shared with my own room, his servant man somewhere I didn't know, but Jack Laid in his bed still knotted with the sheets his head on the pillow clearly only a few moments into this world from his dreams, his hair a fluffy bedhead, his clothes littered the floor his bare skin exposed as the sheets only covered below his stomach. It was obvious he had woken up and knocked on the wall immediately as was typical most mornings. 
I blushed doing my best not to look like I was looking but, I was. trying to burn the image of him lying in his bed into my mind, I nervously adjusted my nightie just to make sure it covered me. 
"Good Morning Doctor Dawkins." I smiled as sweetly as I could 
"Morning Nursey" He yawns stretching his arm above his head 
"What can I do for you on this fine morning?"
"Can I trouble you for crumpet?" He asked 
"Of course No problem" I smiled pulling my hair into a ponytail and heading over to the small part of his room for cooking, taking what I would need from the cupboard, and starting up the stove to prepare him his breakfast "Did you sleep alright?"
"Fine, same as usual" He answered "You sleep alright?"
"Perfectly Pleasantly" I smiled as I worked 
"You alright y/n?" he asked I turned to see him and saw him giving me a strange look 
"What?" I asked 
"Nothing. Just heard your bedsprings a bit this morning."
Immediately I blushed hard but turned to focus on cooking to hide my blush "Ohh, Yes I uhh I spilt my water in my bed this morning it was a bit of a panic cleaning it up" 
"Fair enough" He nods "That's what's on your nightie then?" He asked and just the moment he said that I felt the wet patch on my nightie from... what I had done 
"Yes!" I blushed quickly turning so he couldn't see it 
"Alright. You want a hand drying your bed then?"
"No! thank you. It's alright Dr Dawkins." I blushed as I finished with his breakfast so I turned everything off and took the plate with his crumpet over to his bed he happily took it from the plate having a small bite 
"Umm perfect." He smiled before tapping on his bed so I blushed and sat down beside his knee as he ate 
"Your bed's far softer than mine" I smiled 
"I best be careful then, I might come back one night and see you've swapped out beds over" he joked "And I don't want your bed little nursey, those springs are so bad I hear every time you turn over"
"I shall try not to then."
"You don't have to do that" He chuckled as he finished his crumpet 
"If It would be better-" I began
"You'll really do anything I ask won't you?" he laughs 
"Of course" I blushed 
He gave me a funny look for a moment "Let your hair down?"
I blushed hard enough to turn my face red but I did as he asked me to letting my hair from the ponytail 
"Hold my hand?" 
My heart was racing out of my chest that after all these years something! was to happen between us! and I happily took his hand in mine, he gave it a soft squeeze and brought it to his lips to give my hand a gentlemanly kiss before setting my hand on the bed I was almost fainting from even that tiny amount of attention "Take your dress off?" 
"I- I uhhh" I stuttered but inside my mind 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YES! YES! YES!' I was nervous but I didn't want to waste time moving my hands to the straps of my nightie and tugging them down, I pushed them down to my elbows about to expose my chest when he stopped me 
"Whoa! I was kidding" He laughs sitting up to stop me 
"Ohh" I gulped now utterly red with embarrassment at the fact I was literally two seconds from flashing him! 
"You really will do anything I ask," he chuckled as he softly fixed the straps on my nightie back into place "You're such a sweet little thing" he cooed giving my cheek a kiss "Go on don't let me keep you"
"Alright if you're sure, I'll see you later."
"I'll see you later my little nursey" He smiled laying back in his bed, I smiled my mind screaming at me utterly desperate to kiss him but I forced it away getting up and going back to my own room blushing so hard I had to jump on my bed and squeal into my pillow. 
I was puzzled, I had... finished my work for the day. Often I'd be working long into the night to get my work finished as I often would be rushing off on projects Dr Dawkins would send me off on but, I hadn't seen him all day, and that ached my heart badly. So I ran up to the main part of the hospital and immediately I saw him on his rounds in the ward. 
"Ohh Good Afternoon Doctor Dawkins," I smiled playing with my fingers 
"Ahh Hello Nursey" he smiled as he did some bandage work "Everything alright?"
"I was, just curious. I haven't heard from you today. Didn't you have any jobs for me?" 
"I know. Sorry been absolutely wall to wall today," he explained 
"That's alright, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright." 
"You're sweet." He smiled taking my hand and kissing my knuckles "Everything's fine. go on little Nursey" 
"Yes doctor," I smiled squeezing his hand in the moment before it slipped from mine, I went to go trying badly to hide my blush when I perked up 
"Doctor Dawkins!" A female voice spoke up, and I knew it wasn't Hetti or one of the other nurses I turned quickly and saw that girl. I had seen her a few times in the hospital but I didn't know much about her, but immediately I became like a territorial cat. 
"Oh it's you." he said "To what honour do you bestow us with your visit today then?" 
"The conditions are utterly deplorable! Every single thing in this hospital is disgusting I insist it be cleaned."
"You insist you do?"
"I do. You Laundry girl." She snapped at me "Have every last sheet scrubbed and washed properly immediately!" she demanded 
I was a little shocked not used to having my orders barked at me much less by whomever she was. 
"Give the sheets another wash before you head to bed y/n," He told me, and for a moment I was teary that he took her side so quickly 
"Yes, doctor." I nodded heading back down to the laundry to start again. 
I scampered through the hospital as usual now with even more work than this, woman. was insisting that she had been here every day so far and each day made my heart hurt a little more as she was now spending time alone with Dr Dawkins more than once I had gone into a room and found them alone talking together and it broke my heart each time I did. He had barely called for me at all spending all his time with Belle. I hadn't seen him anywhere around the hospital looking rather concerned as to where he had gone but I stopped short as I heard her voice coming from the morgue, I stopped and lingered at the top of the stairs listening I could hear her talking about... something not sure I couldn't make it out and my body froze as I could hear him. Two talking I tried desperately to listen but I couldn't make out their words I couldn't allow my mind to wander so I headed down the stairs and arrived at the morgue and instantly I felt like bursting into tears. 
He and Belle stood over a body, the room empty other than the two and the body, a scalpel in her hand, his own on her wrist guiding her to make the incision in the skin. They saw me arrive but didn't put a space between them, 
"Yes?" she glared 
"Ohh I uhh I was just looking for you Dr Dawkins," I said sheepishly 
"Oh, I don't have any jobs for you. You can go." He said 
"I- I see. Well you know where I am if you need me" I did my best to force a smile 
"I will do," he said before the two returned to their conversation "Ahh perfect just like that. Very good Milady."
Tears flooded my eyes to hear him call her that, and Immediately without a word, I knew I had been replaced. I wasn't his nursey anymore but she was his Lady, my heart utterly shattered so much my knees went weak and my breath staggered. 
"You alright?" He asked noticing I was still here
"Yes. Sorry Doctor." I answered unable to hold back my tears as I quickly turned and ran up the stairs, I bolted through the hospital reaching the store room shutting the door leaning my back against it. 
Tears flooded down my face, my breathing staggered and desperate between silent wails of pain, unable to control my emotions as my body sunk to the floor. 
After a while I managed to stop crying I think I was so dehydrated I couldn't make any more tears, literally cried out. I left the hospital and went to the cat and bagpipes throwing away all of my money on enough drink to drown my sorrows but nothing seemed to work. So Once I was out of money I staggered back so drunk my inhibitions were utterly void, my shyness gone, and I was ripe for the wicked as anyone who wanted to, rob, murder, or take any advantage of me would find me utterly drunk off my ass unable to even walk straight. I found my way to the hospital eventually and went up to my door but I was unable to stop looking at the door next to my own tears flooding down my face In my drunken state I forced it open slamming it shut behind me to see Jack stood just getting undressed for bed his shirt in hand, his wardrobe open having stopped short given I just burst through his door. 
"Uhh Hi y/n."
"You- You.... Imbolisle!" I slurred 
"What have I done?" He asked very confused about what was happening 
"You know what you did you absolute fudgewomble!"
"Fudge womble?" He laughed 
"You! You... CUNT!"
"Are you drunk?"
 "Don't change the subject!" 
"Y/n what on earth is the matter you've been strange all week," he said taking my hand and trying to bring me closer but I pulled my hand out of his 
"No! I'm not falling for it! No! I'm not doing this anymore! You! You utter monster! you carved open my heart! and left me to bleed! You keep me hanging on your little hand kisses and tiny touches for years! and no matter what I do, how hard I try you give me just enough to keep me hanging, enough to keep me your hopelessly devoted little slave girl!! and then here comes little miss fancy skirt and I'm as worthless as the shit on your shoes!"
"WHoa- whoa- okay." He said trying to calm me down "What's this about?"
"You know what it's about you cruel man!" I cried 
"Y/n Please I swear I don't know what you're talking about, please just sit down and calm down a little" He said gently guiding me to sit on his bed "Now just answer my questions okay, without insulting me if you can" He said holding my hands as he sat in the chair across from the bed "Are you drunk?"
"Yes."
"Why did you get drunk?"
"I thought it would make me stop crying," I said tears slipping down
"Why are you crying?" he asked caressing my cheek and wiping away my tear 
"Because I'm upset!"
"Alright, your upset." He nods "Please, tell me, Hey my little nursey. I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."
In my drunken state, I said everything I had ever wanted to say to him tears flooding down my cheeks "I loved you."
"You what?" He asked 
"I loved you. Fully. I loved you from the moment I saw you jack, my every waking moment I think of you, you are the very last thought in my mind before I go to sleep and the first when I wake up in the morning, I have built my life around you, what time you wake up, how you like your breakfast, how fast you walk, I have spent my life pining after you, worshiping you, doing everything you have ever asked of me all in the hope that one day you may give me a glance, for even that is enough to spoil me beyond measure, I spend three hours every night catching up on work because I know I can't ever say no to you, my dreams are full of you, my pillow is named for you, and I have spent the last few years of my life with you, so utterly in love that I could never stop even if you asked it of me, I live for the moments we are alone, for the seconds of time that your hand is in mine, and my heart dwells on your kisses for hours, I even find myself kissing where you have just for a hope of a taste of you, your name is carved on my heart jack, I am and always have been hopelessly devoted to you in every possible way, and if you felt even half of what I do for you, you would not be so cruel as to hold her so close to you, to call her lovelingly when I am there. Please. I beg of you. Do not let me see it, for it rips my heart in two. and if you cared for me you would give me mercy and take me from this world rather than expect me to live in it without you." I explained through my tears "I will not stand in the way of your joy, but I cannot face seeing her where I have always desired to be" 
My words had frozen him but I saw tears well up in his eyes, he held my face and gently kissed me.
I wanted to be happy but I knew this was only meery pity. 
He pulled back his nose against my own "I have desired you to be in my arms since the first night I saw you, I have made myself utterly dependent on you, in every way, for in my heart I know I cannot fashion a life without you in it, you are everything to me, without you I am nothing but a shell of a man, you are the grace that keeps me grounded, the softness that reminds me of the sweetness of the world, you are the ray of sunshine first to peak though the storm of my life, without you, I am lost to the dark. you take care of me, you keep me right, and you make this life worth living, You are so needed that I can't go a single day without seeing you for if I do my heart feels weak and heavy. I adore you, I can't face this world without you by my side, you are... utterly incomparable to all else I have ever known."
"All but her."
"No. Please believe me." he begged "She could never fill the hole you would leave in my heart." he whispered, "I love you, hopelessly" 
"Why have you never told me?"
"I couldn't believe that a sweet thing like you, could love a monster like me."
"you're not a monster Jack."
"I am. I have treated you awfully. I swear to you she means nothing to me, I have made you long for the next life. I have broken your heart. and like choosing to step on the first fresh flower of spring, it is unforgivable." 
"But I saw you together." 
"I was teaching her. I had to show her but even still I got too close. And for that I am sorry."
"I heard you call her Milady,"
"she's the goveners daughter I have to" He giggled "It was in jest. not in love." 
"Well now I'm foolish for drinking away and coming here and-"
"I am so thankful you came here tonight." He whispered "Will you ever forgive me? for what I did."
"You're already forgiven" I smiled 
"Stay with me tonight."
"I-I can't"
"Please. I can't bear for you to go."
"I will stay Jack." I nodded unable to control my smile "For how long?"
"For forever." He whispered against my lips 
"for forever" I smiled kissing him with all the passion, all the love, all the utter hopeless devotion I had had for him since the first day I met him and he did the same not letting anything be held back the taste of salt in our kisses from our tears, "I love you jack, Hopelessly"
"I love you y/n hopelessly" He smiled "Come on we need to get some sleep, god knows the hangover you'll have tomorrow morning."
"Ohh noo" I whined
"Don't worry. I'll take care of you" He reassured kissing my head "I'll fetch your nightie" he smiled heading out and soon enough returning with my nightie from my bedroom, I smiled taking it and going to the corner to change but as I removed my dress I felt his arms around me and kisses on my shoulder 
"You shouldn't look." I said 
"I can't help it- you are even more beautiful than I had dreamed you were," he whispered 
"You had dreamed of me? without my dress?"
"Many times." He smiled wickedly "Did you dream of me? without my clothes?"
"I had."
"Come on nursey. Bedtime." He cooed going to his bed 
I finished getting changed and turned to see him in bed with a space for me I blushed but rushed over about to climb in but he stopped me 
"Water. or you will have a bad hangover."
"You know from experience?"
"I do. go on." He said 
I did as he asked drinking a nice glass of water and slowly I climbed in with him laying down with a giggle 
"What?"
"I'm used to cuddling my pillow."
"Me too. funny to think we laid cuddling our pillows with just a wall between us" he chuckled wrapping his arms around me to pull me closer so our noses were an inch from each other I giggled a little and set my hands on his chest
"We were rather foolish, spending our nights dreaming of each other"
"We were. But I don't need to dream of you in my arms any longer"
"me either." I smiled giving him a soft kiss before we both drifted away, I didn't dream I didn't need to, just the feeling of being in his arms was more of a dream than anything I could have imagined.
But I woke up alone, which for a moment shattered me believing it all to be a dream, my head aching "Ughhhh ow ow ow" I whined as I turned over 
"I know I'm coming-" His voice spoke up, I slowly opened my eyes and saw Jack standing cooking up some eggs and bacon half dressed no shirt but his pants with his suspenders left hanging 
"Ohh... Morning-" 
"Good morning." He smiled "You have a hangover?"
"Ummm humm" I nodded
"How bad?"
"Did you remove my brain last night?"
"No."
"Then I think it's bad."
"You were absolutely bloody plastered last night" 
"I was sad."
"I know, Am I to expect that often then?"
"No."
"Good," he smiled "Here we are my little nursey, best thing for a hangover" he smiled sitting the plate on the table by the bed and kissing my temple 
"I should get going..."
"Why?" he asks sitting on the bed with me 
"I figured you'd want me gone" I said sitting up even if it made my head feel like it was bleeding 
He smiled and gave my lips a sweet kiss "I thought you were staying here for forever?" 
“I take it there are gaps in the memory of last night?”
“I'm not completely sure where reality ends and my dreams begin”
“I can't blame you, I was stone-cold sober and I'm having a hard time separating my dreams from reality last night.” he chucked where do you think the line is?”
“I think I came here and insulted you then I dreamt the rest?”
“No, we were awake a while more than that”
“Ohh. So I did actually tell you -”
“You did.”
“And you told me-”
“I did.”
“Oh my-”
“It's hard because it felt so much like a dream” he smiled he stroked my cheek before he moved into a kiss our kiss was passionate and rather excited and I teared up to know all of it was real and that he loved me as much as I do. Our kiss got even more excitable as he began to push forcing me down in the bed but that sudden movement was enough to affect my hangover
“Owwwwww” I whined lying on the pillow
“Oh, right. Sorry” he chuckled “you're not working today, keep yourself here with me and get some rest”
“What about you? You need to work?”
“Sneed can handle it for one day” he smiled “Just till you're feeling better. I can't leave my little nursey all alone”
“Thank you, Jack”
“You're welcome” he smiled “and… you're really cute when you're jealous”
“I am?”
“Utterly adorable” he cooed “Now eat. Drink. And rest,” he says
“I will I promise”
“Good girl” he smiled moving clean against the wall and having his legs over mine I smiled moving so I could see him and he held my hand “I get why I hear your bedsprings all the time. You little one are a wiggler” he laughed “I tried to hold you close all night but you just kept wiggling away from me”
“Sorry”
“It's fine, I'll get used to you” he chuckled “Can I tell you a secret?”
“I'd like that”
“... There is a reason I'm always late, days you come do my breakfast.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I'm always late because I can't resist seeing you in your nightie.”
“Why does that make you late?’ I asked he smirked and simply glanced down to his trousers suggestively “oohhh-”
“Yeah. Especially the other day when you almost took your nightie off for me?”
“I did notice you were very late that day”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I didn't question it.” I giggled at the thought of Jack lying in his bed taking care of himself because of me “Can I tell you a secret?’
“I'd like that”
“I didn't spill my drink that day”
“No?”
“No”
“So why was your nightie wet? And why was your bed squeaking so much?’
“The same reason you were late”
“Ooh- really?”
“Humm” I nodded
“So that morning before I knocked I sat listening to you?”
“Yes”
“Fuck-” he gasped “I thought I heard my name. Did you hear yours?”
“No, I was quick getting dressed’
“Shame. Maybe next time as well be in my bed together we can just, take care of each other” he smirked “Would you like that my little nursey?”
“I would very much”
“Good, you must move around a lot then because seriously your bed was boarder line constantly making noise”
“I was- I can't -”
“What no tell me.”
“I was riding my pillow”
“You what?’
‘you heard “
“Riding your pillow? As in pillow on the bed, you are on top?” He asked and I nodded “Imagining it was me?”
“Yes” I blushed hiding under the covers a little
“That's adorable” he smirked ‘and a coincidence”
“How?”
“After you left. I laid on my back imagining you riding me. Maybe our dreams are synchronizing” he smiled leaning down to give my lips a sweet kiss moving to look over me as we kissed till he pulled back a bit
“How did you do it?’
“Do what?’
“I was riding my pillow” I giggled innocently
“Oh, just my hand.” He shrugged “I always use my hand I don't have any things to ride on or use like that” he smirked moving a little so his knees were on either side of me “But if you show me, I'll be happy to show you too” he smirked kissing down my jaw and neck
“Uhhh! Jack!” I gasped as I felt his kisses grabbing his hair
“Uhhh- y/n!” He moaned back ripping the covers from my hands “ohh fuck-” he groans looking at me in my nightie
“Owww” I whined as his kisses made he throw back my head which hurt
“Well continue this later. When you feel better” he smiled giving my lips a kiss “That okay?”
“Okay Jack” I smiled giving him a. Kiss “I love you”
“I love you too” 
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