#others have turned their backs on me but he didn't | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dcxdpdabbles · 2 days ago

Note

Do you think you might update the Adopted Son Au soon, maybe ?🤔 i just can't with that cliffhanger, i need to know what happened next.

Plz

Dick trying to figure out how he is going to escape from his cell when the door opens again. This time, it's not Drake but a group of children who walk in without saying a word.

They surround him, and Dick prepares himself for some torture when one of them presses a button on a controller, releasing him from the retrains, keeping him trapped in the chair.

The metal slides off his wrists and ankles, allowing him to flip up from his seat and away from the group. He wobbles a little, having gone a few weeks without much exercise or movement due to his bad mental state.

He can still take them to the ground, but he won't be at his best, which irks him fiercely. It will also make this fight a lot more dangerous. Surprisingly, the children don't react to his flip or fighting stance.

They stare at him with blank expressions, the single light swinging back and forth as Dick had anciently hit the edge of it with his hip. Four of them are cramped into the surprisingly small room, but none look like they are there for a fight.

Dick frowns. "What's going on?"

" You didn't have Danny, "the oldest one, the boy the Parkers had apparently been taking in, says. "We have no reason to keep you."

"What, you going to let me go? Just like that?" The disbelief drips from his words as he tightens his fist, searching for the surprise attack that will surely come.

"Just like that." The boy agrees, clapping his hands. A little girl throws a bag at Dick, who catches it in an instant. The thing is heavy, but it doesn't feel like a weapon. The teenager claps again, and suddenly, the ground underneath him vanishes.

Dick is free-falling before he knows what's happening. The rush of the wind nearly drowns out his screaming as he tumbles downwards. He watches the apparent cargo plan hangar close as the children stare at his descent.

Twisting around and trying to get his wits about him, Dick realizes he doesn't have a lot of time to figure out what to do because he is far above the ground. He will not survive hitting it. The bag in hand beeps before it springs open.

Wire cords warp around his torso, yanking him to the side so the bag can rest on his back. Another beep goes through before a loud whoosh can be heard, and Dick's body jerks again as a parachute bursts to life from the bag.

He gasps as it catches the wind once it fully opens, stopping his free fall into a gentle flouting. Dick's heart is hammering away in his chest, even when he starts the breathing exercises Bruce taught him to keep calm. He glances up at the plane, but it shimmers out of sight once a clocking device is activated.

He can only guess which direction it ran away in. It must be one of Crowne's inventions.

A few minutes go by when he falls some clouds- and it stings to feel the water bit dig into his skin.- before he finally realizes where he is. Drake had him thrown right over Wayne Manor. The little shit.

Carefully testing the turning cords, Dick realizes that they are much simpler to drive and directions his landing towards the ground behind the Manor. He is nearly there when a flash of red races out of the window, aiming right for him.

"Dick!" Kori shouts, wrapping her arms around him. He sighed gratefully and said she was mindful of the parachute. His friend tucks him into her arms, one hand under his knees, the other on his upper back, and flies him safely back down. "You're okay! We were so worried when you vanished."

"How long was I gone?"

"Just one day. What happened?"

Wow, Drake doesn't mess around. It was alarming that he could not only take him from his own room but return him without any of the Bats being the wiser. "Let's get everyone grouped up. This is going to need some explanations."

The two fly through the same window Kori was excited about. The minute Dick's feet touch the floor, the bag beeps and unclips, yanking the fabric up his parachute back into the little bag as it slides off his shoulders.

Crowne would be so excited that it works so smoothly. He thinks almost wistfully.

"Dick!" Jason yells, racing forward to throw his arms around Dick's middle. Not far behind, Damian joins them though he seems more willing to hold onto Jason rather than Dick.

"Hey guys." He mutters, bending down to hug back. "Sorry about the scare."

"Dick," Bruce's baritone voice has him snapping his head up. There, he realizes his family and the teen titans are all sitting around a conference table, papers scattered in front of the relieved people. A large screen was sitting behind Bruce, displaying the latest news in the Crowne trial. "What happened?"

Dick takes a deep breath, locks everything that man him, the fun circus child, in a tight box inside his chest. When he opens his eyes again, all that's left is Nightwing.

"Let me tell you," And he does

A while later, Dick learns that while no one had known where he had gone, they had all been able to find enough proof that Dick was taken. It had left everyone in great unease, especially Bruce, who had always been proud of the Manor's defenses.

They were in the middle of discussing Timothy Drake's new danger level when the noise of the reporting news anchor cut off mid-sentence. The image changes from a business street of Gotham's police headquarters, where Daniel Crowne is said to be held, to a dark room with a person wearing a glowing green skull mask.

The person is sitting at a table, the angle getting them from the chest up. They wear a hood that does not hide their black wavy hair, curling around their ears. As the camera focuses, the figure plays with a piece of it.

Everyone at the table tenses up as the person speaks. They use some voice modifier that disrupts the words, making it sound robotic -it's hard to tell whether it's a boy or a girl. The body shape, however, points to them being young. "People of Gotham. I have taken control of this and every screen within the city to speak to you about Daniel Crowne. Many of you have cheered the last few days over his imprisonment, unaware of the hero he was. Tonight, I wish to enlighten you. Watch and repent."

"Where is this broadcasting from?" Bruece demands at once. Babs is already tapping away on her Crowne laptop, attempting to track down the signal.

"I don't know. It's bouncing from all over the city." She huffs.

On the screen, the stranger continues. Dick thinks he knows who that is. He recognizes the mindless habit of playing with the hair near the right side of his neck. "That's Drake."

At his words, everyone tenses even further.

"It's true Crowne broke the law. He took it into his own hands when CPS failed to protect the children they claimed they worked for, much like a specific group of Bats." Drake continues, tapping one finger on the surface of his table. "Unlike them, Crowne kept a record of everything he's done. I will present it all to you."

The screen changes to show documents, videos of abuse victims, and some testimony of missing children. For an hour, every screen showcases everything Daniel Crowne has done since he appeared from his adoption. The Waynes and the Titians are left in awe by the sheer amount of evidence that showcases.....Crowne saving children.

Dick legs give out under him some time around the proof of the Foster system failing children and how Crowne had personally swooped in to save them. None of it is legal, but no one cares.

Not when Heather Gobb's case is shown that she has been locked up in juvie for years for being a poor orphan. Not when her neighbors' old video of them pleading with the public to find information on her is shown, as they had thought she had gone missing five years ago and were still looking for her today.

Not when Max Smith- the same one that released him- case of being a human traffic victim was rescued and given to the Parkers. The Parkers had been rejected five times as foster parents due to their age. But the Martinez another case shown here- was even after three different girls reported sexual assault.

Every contact. Every move. Every single street kid is given a home. All of it was shown here, even the way he did it. Daniel Crowne was a hero.

"No," Dick gasps, watching the proof of Danny secretly busting trafficking rings and helping the victims find their way home. He had worked on one of those cases. Cindy, a fifteen-year-old girl, had been secretly rescued when a tip came through. Among her bags was a map of the rest of the cages that she claimed she had never before seen.

Crowne- Danny- had planted it.

The tears are rolling down his face, blurring everything in sight, but Dick can't look away. His chest feels like it's caving in as memory after memory plays behind his eyes.

Memories of the man he betrayed.

Drake, in his eerie glowing skull costume, returns. "That was who Daniel Crowne was. I speak in the past tense because his body had been discovered earlier today. He was found stuffed into a waste bin near Gotham's dump. A funeral will be held for the public in a week within Gotham Park at this same time, open casket, and he will be buried with honor somewhere no one can reach him. It will be the only time to say goodbye."

Dick feels like his world has shattered. The room starts to spin; multiple people are speaking, but he can barely hear them over the roaring in his ears.

He can only see Drake's green glow as the boy continues. "Lastly, I have a message for Officer Lucas Black of the 99th. We know what you did, and as much as I want to end you, he wouldn't have wanted that. Instead we will send you a gift. She was found in the last ring Crowne managed to track down. Protect her well this time. And never forgive yourself for what you did to her savior."

The screen cuts. Dick turns to the side, throwing up until nothing but acid comes out. His friends and family gather around him, trying their best to offer him comfort, but they can do nothing.

Danny is dead. He's gone, and he never even knew it was Dick that helped kill him.

_________________________________________________________

Life is a blur, worse than when he had Danny arrested. Dick isn't even sure he's alive. Bruce and the rest of the police have managed to verify all of the presented evidence. Crowne had legally kidnapped children, but no one could claim him a monster.

It was like the city was collectively drowning in guilt and mourning. Not even the rest of the Rouges dared to cause trouble. For the first time in centuries, Gotham was experiencing a cease-fire, and peace fell upon the civilians.

It hadn't stopped raining since Danny's death, almost as if Gotham herself was sobbing for the loss.

Dick had never felt this empty before, not even at the lost of his parents. He had nothing, no one to be angry at as Drake had covered every track of Danny's killer.

A single letter with a glowing green ghost circled around the familiar D arrived at Wayne Manor the day following the broadcast. All it read was You will never find out who took him. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered.

Bruce was working non-stop to bring Danny's killer to justice, but there was even less to go on than the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Somehow, he finds himself getting dressed for Daniel Crowne's funeral. Jason and Damian help him walk out of his room, wearing black, and into the car. Bruce is riding in the passenger seat while Alfred is driving.

They had forgone the expensive vehicles and instead rode in a small black car. This was not an event that needed a showy entrance.

The drive is long and silent. Pity and pain make him almost choke, as none of the other four seem to know what to say. They only glance at him, looking torn up.

Bruce is the worst. He likely blames himself for the whole honey pot plot, and Dick wants to blame him, wants to lash out and rage against his father, but he can't.

He had agreed to the plan. Dick had been the one who went to Danny's office, the one who held him and spoke to him. The one that stole kisses and whispered sweet nothings.

The one that falls in love with the person he destroyed.

Dick stares out the window, wishing he was sobbing like he had been just a few days ago. He wishes he could feel the headache of dehydration from all the tears he cried. Anything other than this numbing pain that rests on his chest and keeps him from feeling anything.

His eyes have remained dry since he heard the news of Danny's passing. What kind of monster did that make him?

"Dick..." Bruce tries, but his words fall short. With a start, the first Robin realizes they are at the park. The car had been parked, and everyone was outside waiting for him.

He unclips his belt, stepping out and ignoring the hand Bruce offers him. All of Gotham has come for Daniel Crowne. There are so many marching by in black clothing. Some are sobbing, others are whispering, but all Dick sees is a sea of strangers that once cheered for his death.

Who are you? He thinks as his family walks into the park. Did any of you even know him?

A nasty voice sneers in his mind. Did you know him, Grayson?

Jason's warm palm slides into Dick's, helping him to the front where some seats had been put aside for those that were personally saved by Danny. Drake wanted them front and center; he had sent a message with a confused Sparrow.

Damian now seemed to regret presenting the letter as he held Jason with getting Dick to sit.

The coffin was surrounded by flower arrangements and shoes—the ones from the people he had saved. Some adult sizes were mixed in, but the majority were of children—it didn't seem real.

None of this does.

But Danny is gone, and Dick can not cry.

Next to the Waynes sits Officer Black, who is sobbing so hard it sounds like his chest is being cut apart. His sister is holding him, crying into his shoulder and whispering assurances.

The Ghosts- a new group that has risen in place of Crowne's fall- had delivered her home mere minutes after the Broadcast. She had received free treatment in one of Crowne Corp's hospitals outside of Gotham. She, along with seventeen other victims, had been personally rescued by Daniel Crowne only a month before.

Dick was happy for them. After years of being apart, the Blacks were finally whole once more.

Phantom- the head of Ghosts- walks up to a podium. His glowing green skull mask hides his expression from the crowd, but Dick can see how hard it is for Drake to stand there and speak.

"Gotham is no stranger to tragedy. We live with grief and joy. We dine with hope and sorrow. We walk with fate and death. In the five years since his arrival, Daniel Crowne had done everything he could to protect Gotham without asking for anything in return. He was deeply devoted to those he loved, and though not religious, he believed in Gotham." Drake says, addressing the crowd. "He found the flame of hope in the darkness of Gotham's streets. He stood tall when others lay broken by her crushing weight, bearing the burden of her attention. His mind illuminated that darkness, his heart warmed those in the cold wind, and with every fiber of his being, Danny fought for the betterment of mankind. His inventions saved thousands and have carved history with a chisel of his own making. We say goodbye to our cherished brother, friend, and noble son stolen from us far too soon. Remember him for the life he lived and not the violence he suffered. Daniel Crowne may no longer be able to walk with us, but his spark will forever live within us."

Drake pauses, turns to the coffin, and places a flower inside of it. "May you find the peace you were searching for, Brother."

Dick bows his head feeling tears gather in his eyes, but none spill over as Drake encourages everyone to pray in whatever belief they hold and allows people to go up to offer their own flowers, stones, or gifts. His line is the first to go up, but he can't move. His legs feel like lead, shaking his head when Bruce whispers his name.

Officer Black passes him, clutching his sister's hand as they walk to Danny's coffin. To his body. It's odd.

Danny is of that wooden stature, but nothing is in it—it's just a box. Officer Black placed his badge inside, whispering that he was leaving the force. Dick is close enough that he can hear his sister adding a ring that Danny had given her when he visited her during her recovery and wonders how bright Danny's smile might have been to see the siblings together again.

The funeral continued, with a long queue of people wishing to say their final goodbyes. Dick sat through the whole thing, aware of time passing but not entirely sure what was happening around him.

All too soon and not fast enough, the service ends. The Phantom claps his hands. A significant plane shifts into view, and its cloaking device falls. It lowers a platform as some Ghosts carefully lift the coffin.

The pallbearers march onto the plane's platform as a haunting melody bleeds into the air. With a start, Dick realizes it's an instrumental cover of their song, the one Danny and he used to dance and sing to. Danny had been playing it the day they were unpacking his home before Dick had found the journals that same night.

Drake really wants him to suffer, doesn't he?

No one speaks as the group rises into the air, taking with them Daniel Crowne. The plane vanishes from sight once more, and slowly, everyone tickles home. Gotham's rain—absent for the funeral—returns just as the Waynes manage to get into their car.

The drive home was even shorter than the one to the event. His family tries to speak to him, but Dick hears nothing. He merely walks up to his room and crashes on his bed.

Exhaustion, one deeper than his very bones, drags him under. He's out before Bruce can find the courage to enter his room.

_________________________________________________________

He's not sure if it's a dream or not, but the next thing Dick knows, he's blinking his eyes open to a soft white glow. His eyes are drawn to the bottom of his bed, where a figure sits on its edge, hunched over and staring at its hands.

His breath caught in his throat, causing the person to turn towards him. He looked different. His green eyes were glowing like a light was lit behind his eyeballs. His hair was snowy white, and his body seemed nearly transparent, but there was no denying who it was.

"Danny" The name is spoken like a gospel.

The love of his life smiles at him in that same adoring way. It feels like a slap and a hug all in one. "Hello Darling"

He stares, unsure of what to do, until he blurts, "You're dead."

Danny throws his head back in a familiar, impish laugh. It's the one, only Dick, had been privy to, as his boyfriend had always been so regal laughing loudly seemed to be against his very image.

Danny crawls from the bottom of the bed, still laughing, until he lays right next to Dick, who can't stop staring at him. Once he settled, the two were mere inches away, staring into each other's eyes as if they could drink each other's features.

"Yes," Danny's voice is soft as freshly fallen snow. "I'm dead. I never thought about that happening. A part of me always hoped I wouldn't form a complete ghost when my time would come. It's rather silly when you consider Dan."

"Ghost?"

Glowing green eyes soften just a bit as a cold- never will it be warm again- hand wraps around his own. Dick can hardly believe he can feel the hold as he continues to stare. "Yes, Darling, I'm a ghost."

"I'm sorry," He whispers, and then a sorrow overcomes him. Dick feels his eyes water faster than anything this past week. Silent tears rolled down his face as he choked, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Oh, Darling." Danny comes, reaching out to wipe his tears away. "I don't blame you. I love you."

"Danny you can't love me. You don't know what I did."

"I do know. You were a honey pot to find evidence of me trafficking children." Danny says as if though nothing. As if Dick hadn't betrayed him to the very core of their relationship. "I'm hurt by it, but I do not hate you for it. You were doing the same thing I was. Trying to protect children; after all, I did make thousands vanish. It looked suspicious."

"If I had been a better detective, I would have found the truth." Dick insisted, self-hate clouding his words.

Danny sighs, tracing the side of his cheek. "No, you wouldn't. Darling, you and Bruce had spent months investigating me without finding anything that could tie me to the case before you had the idea of the Honey Pot. I ensured no one would have found the truth unless they got close. I didn't even tell Tim. He just found out on his own."

Dick's tears flow faster. "I could have done more."

"I could have told you," Danny counters, smiling sadly. But to do so, I would have to tell you about my Halfa status, and I was never quite brave enough to disclose the subject. We both kept secrets, Darling and are both to blame."

"But you're dead." Dick chokes, reaching out his arm to bring his lover to his chest. He lacks the warmth that he once associated with Daniel Crowne. "My secrets lead to your death."

"Maybe. My secret would have led to me leaving your world anyway." Danny confuses.

"What?"

"Since I became Daniel Crowne, I have been working on a way to travel dimensions. It was my goal to get back to my original home. I became so obsessed with it that I did not weaver even years after landing in a world technically behind my own. Not even my love for you or my care for Tim made me give up on that goal." Danny says, eyes staring into Dick's soul, looking so majestic and sad that, for a moment, Dick wondered if he was a painting.

"I told myself that once I figured out a way to travel home, I could come back here to you and live another double life. But that was a lie. A pretty one but a lie. I had to choose one world or another and I would have chosen the other if I had lived."

Danny rests his forehead against Dick's. "I wanted a life with you, Darling, but fate wouldn't allow it as I have been too selfish. I know it's a lot to ask, but can I be selfish a little longer?"

The Gotham vigilante wraps himself around his dead partner, attempting to bury himself in his essence. "As much as you want Darling. Be as selfish as you want."

Neither speaks for long, allowing themselves to feel around each other.

"Daniel Fenton," Danny says after a long while.

"What?"

"My name. It's Daniel Fenton." Danny pulls back to smile at him. "May I tell his story?"

"Yes."

_____________________________________________________________

Dick wakes again to his room curtains gently blowing in the wind of his open windows. The rain has stopped, and a few birds are chirping in the trees outside the glass. The sun shines on the ring that has his name carved into the band, where it rests on his bedside table.

There is no evidence that Danny had been there the night before.

Dick carefully reaches out for the ring, sliding it onto his finger. It's a perfect fit.

He rolls onto his back, holding his hand up to watch the small stones curling around the band gleam. Somewhere in the afterlife, the Ghost King, rightful ruler of the Beyond, is wearing a similar one, and he may wait for the day the two reunite.

Dick Grayson knows everything about Danny Fenton, of how he arrived here in this world, of the one he lost when he flew aimlessly through the Infinite Realms, and of the life he built himself in his effort to get home.

He knows that Timothy Drake will continue to rule over Gotham's underbelly with his trained Ghosts, who will be far more dangerous than any Talon. He will also buy out Crowne Corp, bringing his brother's once titan of a company under his care to continue his work.

He knows Jason and Damian will grow up well, forging their own identities and teams and working hard to improve the lives of the residents of Crime Alley.

He knows that Bruce will continue his war against the crime of Gotham, and for every mistake and stumble he makes, Bruce will bring hope back to the people who cower in their homes.

He knows Lucas Black did not mean to kill Danny and finds he does not hate the man. Danny does not blame him, so why should Dick? He'll dedicate the rest of his life to working at the bakery his sister had always dreamed of owning.

But above all, Dick Grayson knows Danny Fenton still loves him.

For the first time since Danny's death, Dick allows himself to dissolve into sobs. His cries raise in volume, filling the room with their anguish. His bedroom door is flung open by a distressed-looking Bruce, who gathers him in his arms. His baby brothers are not far behind, and Alfred even puts aside his professionalism to join in on the hug.

One day, the family will be much larger than the five. Somewhere out there, a young girl unable to speak is waiting for them. Her brother, who can see the dance of light, is just a little behind. He likely goes to class with a girl in purple who will become Drake's right hand after one too many pushes from her shitty father.

Danny told him there would be more and that he had seen all of Dick's life. Ultimately, he will wait for them to pick up where they left off. The weight of their shared rings will be a companion for the rest of Dick's life.

Dick sobs and sobs until every nasty emotion is finally out of his body. It feels like relief.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #the adoptive son #The End #Angst #Hurt and Comfort #Bittersweet ending #Danny did honstly die #He was never going to go home #He learned the truth the moment he died #He doesn't hate Dick and is very in love with him #Both will wait a lifetime #Tim and Steph will not join the Batfam #Hope you liked the ending and thank you for sticking around for it!#Part 9

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yandere-sins · 1 day ago

Text

Monstober - Day 9: Folklore Creatures

Spin on "Little Red Riding Hood" anyone? What could be better than someone so obsessed with you, they simply want to eat you up?

Prompt: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity Warnings: Yandere, Violence (non-main character murder, Blood Mention, Implied Bullying of the reader (off-screen)), Topic of Jealousy, Posessiveness

"Love you, hun."

Pressing a gentle kiss to your head, your boyfriend got up, stretching his arms high over his head and popping his neck before he got to his feet with a sigh. "Where are you going? Do you really have to leave?" you mumbled, the disappointment unmistakably in your voice. It had been like this for weeks now, where you two spent a passionate night before he slipped out without a trace to find him all day.

"Mhm," he sighed, leaning down to you again to catch your lips once more. "You know how much it pains me, but I got to go before it's too late. Wouldn't want to awaken the monster in me, would you?"

He said it as if it was a challenge, and you giggled, thinking it was just another innuendo. "Wouldn't let me get out of bed, huh?"

"Oh, I'd gobble you up, darling."

Laughing, he stepped away, putting his shirt back on as he dipped into the bathroom of your small apartment real quick. The moment he disappeared from view, you couldn't help your expression from showing the disappointment and frustration you felt. It had been almost a month now, and you two never went out together in the daylight, never saw each other except when he picked you up for a night out in the club or came to watch a movie that was never finished.

It felt more like you were his friend-with-benefits—you didn't even know his last name.

As if you were the other one.

The thought made your blood boil. You weren't proud of it, but in a moment of jealous weakness, you had checked his phone, seeing countless messages where he told people how excited he was to hang out and make appointments with them while he never seemed to do the same for you. It didn't seem like he had another partner in his life, but how could you be sure when he played the role of the mysterious night visitor rather than your wholesome boyfriend?

Was he ashamed of you? Were you not good enough? Did he just keep you around for his entertainment? The questions plagued you as he never gave you a good answer. He wouldn't even entertain the discussions, only vowing that he loved you and his work was very important and took him all day.

So why was he meeting other people then?

There wasn't much time once he said his goodbyes, his kisses nothing short of loving and sweet. For a possible cheater, he was good at what he was doing. You only had a few seconds of self-doubt about what you were going to do before you were out of the door and hunting after him, long coat and sunglasses on in true stalker-fashion. It felt wrong, and you hated yourself for mistrusting him so much, but at the same time, you two were still practically strangers, knowing so little while still being so in love. A little craziness was inevitable, right?

However, as your boyfriend turned from the main street into the shady path leading to the central park of your town, you suddenly felt a sense of panic. What if you accidentally got involved with some shady fellow? What if this was a drug deal or worse? Why would someone need to go to a park in the middle of the night?

You had assumed he was leaving you alone every night to hook up with other people or go back to an unsuspecting partner, but as you gently brushed through the thicket, trying to stay out of the moonlight that would give away your presence, you suddenly weren't so sure anymore.

You could still see him as he walked further into the park. It should have been your sign to leave, get away while you could, and cut all contact... but you had already gotten this far. Following closely by hiding behind trees and the occasional park bench, you tracked him through the greenery. Once, he almost seemed to spot you, but you ducked into a bush just in time, regretting this move only when the thicket tore at the fabric of your coat, making unnecessary noise. Still, you managed to stay hidden, heart racing and always alert.

Eventually, your boyfriend sat on a park bench in front of a pond. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and you were about to call this mission off, seeing how relaxed he was. It was as if he simply enjoyed hanging out in the park at night like a semi-normal person would.

But footsteps crunching over the gravel made you cower lower, your eyes fixating on the person approaching. Your boyfriend lifted a hand in greeting, and the person sprinted forward, hood falling off her head, revealing a cruel sight.

Because you knew the woman your boyfriend was meeting.

Your bully.

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watched as she jumped into his arms, giggling as your boyfriend spun her around. The only reason for them to meet you could think of was that the two set you up, made you fall in love with him so they could laugh at you behind your back. It really broke your heart to watch them cuddle on the park bench, your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—ruffling her hair.

You didn't want to stay to see this.

It was a good thing you found out, but with tears filling your eyes, you knew you had to leave before you were discovered or hurt yourself more by watching them. This trainwreck wasn't one you should have been observing, and it hurt enough that you wanted to never come out of your home again.

"You know, [Name]?" your boyfriend suddenly asked, the sound of your name on his tongue so bittersweet.

"Who? Oh..." your bully replied, thinking for a moment. "What about them? They are a loser, not worth your time."

"Is that so? Because they told me about you, lots of things."

"You're ruining the mood. Isn't it enough that I agreed to meet you here? It's so creepy! Did you know how they found quite a few bodies lately around this park? We should go clubbing or to a bar, why are we even here talking about some loser?"

Your bully let out a frustrated sigh, throwing her hair back over her shoulder before leaning close. "You know we never even kissed until now. Don't you think it's such a waste of those lovely lips to talk when we could make out instead?"

Letting out a dry laugh, he didn't seem flattered at all as she tried to avert the topic of you. Good, you thought, because you really weren't up to hearing about yourself from the bully and the traitor. Even so, you couldn't move. As if you were frozen to the spot.

"Good thing you mentioned that. I prefer not making my partner worried about whether I'm cheating or not."

"Partner?" your bully spat, scrunching up her nose, the ugliness of her expression matching her personality. "Don't tell me you're fucking with that. I thought you had better taste when you asked me out to dinner the last few times. Thought you'd appreciate beauty more--"

Her words were cut off as your boyfriend's hand wrapped around your throat. He brought her face closer to his, sounding more enraged than you had ever heard him before. "How dare you talk about them like that. They are perfect. Wonderful. Special. It's filth like you that needs to be taken out so my love can be happy."

The two rose from their seat, and you watched as your boyfriend seemingly effortlessly hoisted your bully into the air. Something felt off, and you couldn't look away as you watched the clothes on his body tearing apart, your bully struggling as his fingers stretched and wrapped around her neck completely. She let out mewls and gasps as she tried to kick him, tried to make him stop, but the horror was in both of your eyes as you watched your boyfriend transform.

Skin turned into fur, mouth into snout. His posture changed as his body grew taller, monstrous, into a beast. Part of you couldn't believe your own eyes as you watched him take on canine features as if you were in a movie, watching a werewolf transform, but by the way, your bully was struggling harder, unable to scream, you realized it was real, and she saw it too.

Horrified, you could only clasp your hands over your mouth, containing your shivers. Doggish years popped up from his head, twisting and turning towards your direction. You had to be quiet, undetected, or surely, you'd be the next prey of that monster. His snout opened, long, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight, and you heard the gurgled scream of your bully before the beast pounced, biting between her neck and shoulder.

Your bully was still kicking and trying to break loose as blood gushed from the bite, her sounds turning into gurgles before everything quieted out, and she stopped moving. Even though your eyes were so wide open, you couldn't believe them at all, couldn't understand what just happened, only listening to the sound of fluids gushing out and dripping to the floor, bones breaking beneath the claws and massive jaw, and eventually, her body simply slipping from his grip, seemingly meaningless.

"[Name], [Name], [Name]. Isn't it so impolite to eavesdrop on others?" the monster suddenly grumbled. Its massive head swung in your direction, eyes scanning from one side of the thicket to the other before finally settling on you despite the greenery. "I didn't want you to find out like this. We could have talked about it some other time—like on a picnic!"

Putting his feet into motion, you were still completely frozen as you watched the creature march towards you. If this was a bad dream, now would have been a good moment to wake up. You two held the eye contact, even as you watched the grotesque features slowly turn back into a human, first the head, then arms.

"Well, it is your business, too, I'll admit. I've been doing this all of you. Was I not a good boy, taking care of all these mean people for you?"

Until now, you had never taken much notice of the people you disliked disappearing. If anything, you were glad they weren't around anymore. But now that he was pointing it out, a cold shudder ran down your spine, guilt overcoming you.

"They were in the way of your happiness, and I need a good meal every now and then. We both got something out of it, you sweet, sweet thing—look at you cowering. Are you scared? Of the big, bad wolf? What if I'm a nice wolf, will you come to me then? Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you, I'll take care of all that try."

Even with the words so sweetly murmured, you didn't dare move and fall for his promises. He was a fucking werewolf or any other kind of monster! But werewolf made the most sense. It also explained so much more, for example, how he knew exactly where you were. It only made you wonder if he knew all along. Let himself be exposed to you. Wanting for you to see this.

See him.

Now back in his human form, he reached into the bush, parting it aside to reveal your cowering form. His grin widened as he watched you trembling in fear from him, this... other side of him probably enjoying a primal thrill at the prey he had caught.

"What... what are you? You had those big ears-"

"-to hear your thrilling pulse, darling."

"And your eyes were-"

"-so I could spot you and make sure you'd not hurt yourself, sweetheart."

"A-And your mouth was... you know."

At this, he simply grinned, and you gulped down any other word. "Gobble you up," he said earlier that night. It had not just been a sexy innuendo.

"Are you... going to kill me, too?" you asked woefully, feeling like your fate had already been sealed.

"You? Now, now, who'd do such a thing."

Clicking his tongue at you as if you had just insulted him, your boyfriend stepped through the gap in the bush, crossing over into your hideout, destroying every safety this thicket had provided with his presence. He leaned down, picking you up with what you now knew was unnatural strength and holding your bridal style as he carried you back towards the pond. The moonlight shined down on you two, the reflection on the water's surface blinding you. But it wasn't enough to make you forget about the body that laid just below you.

"I'm glad you could make it here, though. I wanted to enjoy the full moon with you for so long, you know? But you did interrupt my meal, how are you going to make up for it?" he asked, not a hint of seriousness in his voice. As if this was all a game rather than the brutal reality you had only just learned about.

"I--" you sputtered, unable to answer that. Your mind kept coming back to realize you were the next best meal to have and served as if on a silver platter as he carried you.

"Juuust joking," your boyfriend laughed. "How about we go home and order some late-night food? I'm so hungry!"

Ignoring the dead body on the floor, he merely stepped over it, chatting about whether he wanted burger or tacos as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a fairytale monster and killed someone.

"Or, you know, we could make this fun. You could run, and I could catch you, have a nibble of those sweet cheeks; how about it?"

You felt the blood drain from your face, and his grin diminished as he watched you cower into yourself, his grip tightening around as you grew tense. "Okay, too early, got it."

"You're really not going to kill me?"

"Nope. Can't. You're my mate. You're what all werewolves crave—what I crave. Your happiness is all that satisfies me."

"Then... you'll let me go if I want to?"

His expression turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "There are rules," he said factually. "I'll explain them to you someday. But basically, they don't allow us to tell people about our existence. If I let you go, you might tell someone and--"

"I won't! I promise! I'll take your secret to the grave, please!" you pleaded, and your boyfriend grimaced, looking unhappy at your determination.

"And even more importantly-" he continued, raising his voice threatingly to make you behave. "-they teach us to never let our mates go, as there won't be another one. And living without is torture for a werewolf."

"Never?" you whined softly, and the smile returned to his face. Now he looked almost completely back to normal, like the sweet boyfriend you fell in love with. But you couldn't ignore the wolf in a sheep's skin—not with the blood of your bully still clinging to his chest.

"Never," he assured you firmly, and you knew instinctively that he meant it.

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railingsofsorrow · 1 day ago

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nothing's gonna hurt you, baby

[jj maybank x reader]

summary: “you don't have to worry about me.” your voice is muffled but he can hear it well. the way his fingertips graze against your back under your shirt almost puts you to sleep right then. “'course I do.” jj pokes your waist, tone bordering on indignant. “you're my girl, why wouldn't I worry about you?” pairing: jj maybank x f!reader w.c: 1.2k warnings/content: child abuse (implied); description of wounds, blood and violence; hurt/comfort.

A/N: in honor of obx 4, here's a jj maybank hurt/comfort blurb. just fyi, he's alive and happy and he ran off to yucatan in the show, that shitty ending they wrote did not fucking happened. anyways, enjoy my silly writing.

navi

masterpost

obx masterlist

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“ow!” you hissed, leaning away as your forehead stung as soon as the antiseptic made contact with the wound. “it stings.” you provided helplessly, lips tugging downwards.

watching as jj's mouth quirked up slightly, you glared at him. he looked away to grab another gauze, unaffected by your dramatic behavior. not so dramatic because the cut was fresh so in your defense you had every right to react that way.

“it's supposed to sting, means it's working.”

you hold back a complaint as he presses the gauze near the cut again. his blue eyes attentively stare back at you, he waits for your whining but it doesn't come.

“so you mean I'm supposed to enjoy pain because it's good for me? it's like we're all condemned to the same fate, aren't we?”

“my pretty little philosopher or whatever,” jj tutted, pressing a kiss to your temple before he stood up to throw the used materials away. the couch was comfortable as you adjusted your body to lay back down, making sure not to turn on your side so jj's job wouldn't go to waste. “should I call pope here? cause I'm not gonna be able to keep up with your existence theories.”

“existencial.”

“yeah, that.” you let out a hum in appreciation as he ran his fingers across your ankles, the coldness of his rings grazing against your skin. that will definitely help you fall asleep. silence stretched on for a few minutes and the room was enveloped with you and jj basking in each other's presence.

until, well… until he broke it.

“how did you get this?”

“told you, cabinet door.”

“right, which one was it this time? kitchen or bathroom?”

you felt like a little kid being caught doing what you weren't supposed to be doing. by his tone, you already knew he was onto your lie but you stayed silent, forcing your face to be blank of any emotion.

jj had caught you with bruises before. the keyword being caught because you'd never willingly show it to him. he already had too much on his plate to deal with, he didn't need you to add to it.

it wasn't the first time, thus his little gentle jab at your lie.

“cuddle me.” you requested — more like ordered — an outstretched hand in his direction as you ignored his previous question with grace and not all in an unsubtle way. “jayj”

your boyfriend engulfed you in his warmth, arms wrapping around your middle as you settled in his chest, cheek resting against the soft fabric of his jumper.

“you don't have to worry about me.” your voice is muffled but he can hear it well. the way his fingertips graze against your back under your shirt almost puts you to sleep right then.

“'course I do.” jj pokes your waist, tone bordering on indignant. “you're my girl, why wouldn't I worry about you?”

“your girl?” you placed your chin on the back of your hand, licking your lips contemplatively. “a bit possessive, isn't it?”

something itched in your chest upon noticing the small dimple on his left cheek when he gave you that charming disarming smile of his. “you think so?” he uttered, hands intertwining behind your back as he shrugged when his face twitched in amusement. “but you are, aren't you?”

“am I?” you pretended to be clueless. “not sure... hey.” you squirmed when he threatened to tickle you.

“hey.” he mocked with a slightly annoying voice, warning a slap on his chest. jj let out a deep chuckle. “stop, stop. okay.” he held your hands, lifting your knuckles to his lips so he could kiss them, blue eyes glinting with mischief staring you down. that glint soon tuned down to something serious, it was when you knew he was about to initiate a topic you wanted to run away from.

you were cornered.

jj's thumb touched your cheek, there was also a small yellowish bruise beginning to heal near your cheekbone, besides the cut in your forehead, which was what concerned him more.

this one is older, he observed the bruise, caressing the spot ever so gently as if you were made of glass. you shouldn't have bruises or cuts or anything that gives you pain.

“jayj, it's fine—”

“is it bad?”

you know what his words mean and that proved he didn't believe in your lies. why would he? he went through the same on a daily basis before his dad took off god knows where. you honestly hope he never comes back because if luke maybank ever thinks of laying a hand on jj again, you'd bury him alive.

but anyway, you admitted the truth, laying out what truly was going on inside your house.

“just when she gets mad.” you offered, looking back at your hands curling together. “really, it's fine, don't worry about me.”

his forehead creases and you think he's about to order you to shut up but instead he squeezes your hand. anger is never his go-to emotion with you.

“I worry, always. can you tell me how this one happened? it's deeper.” he asked, touching the spot in your forehead beside the cut he had cleaned up.

your eyes followed his carefully but your body was relaxed as it never had been whenever you talked about that subject.

“I, um... I dodged her slap. kind of. I ducked down— or tried to.” you winced at your explanation and at the memory. “anyways, the cut was because of her ring.”

his jaw clenched but his touch never shifted to anything other than delicate.

“i'm sorry.”

“don’t be.” you said, smiling up at him. “it’s not your fault, but thanks.”

“you shouldn't be used to this.” jj said firmly, brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze far away. “you can come stay at the chateau if you want, you know? we always have space.”

“thank you for caring, but I'll be fine.”

“I know.” he shrugged. “but I mean, when you're not, you have a place to run to. you have me.”

and yes, you knew that, technically. but your fucked brain thought if you shared your home life with him, this would make you a burden, you never ever wanted that. you didn't want him to get tired of you and realize he was better off with someone else who wasn't so complicated.

“I know I have you.”

“do you?”

“I love you.” you offered as if that was supposed to be a strong argument.

jj raised a brow. “I love you too and that's why I want you to open up to me.” he explained gently, thumb running against your cheek. “call me. find me. I'll be there. I'll find you wherever you are, alright?”

you hummed, agreeing with him in his request. a smile gracing your lips. “okay.”

he shifted in bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “if it depends on me, nothing’s gonna hurt you,” he mumbled against your forehead as you wrapped an arm around his middle and basked in his warmth.

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taglist: @hoeshissworld

#reader insert #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #outer banks blurb #obx fic #obx fanfiction

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mistymysticalmoon · 3 days ago

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Gentle Understanding

･ jude bellingham x reader ･

prompt: (fluff/angsty) an early morning accident leaves you feeling vulnerable and embarrassed, but your boyfriend’s gentle reassurance transforms the moment into one of trust and tenderness.

warnings: talks of blood

wc: 600+

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The light peeking through the curtain slowly pulled you from your sleep, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. The faint sounds of nature signaled the start of a new day putting a small smile on your face.

You felt Jude stir beside you, still in a state of sleep yet pulling you closer. Your crazy schedules had lined up for once allowing the pair of you to bask in each others presence for the past few days.

As you shifted to make yourself a bit more comfortable, you felt an uncomfortable wet feeling down under.

Slowing, as not to alert your sleeping boyfriend , you push the duvet down to confirm your suspicion. You look down to see that you had been right and had spotted some blood on Jude’s bedsheets.

You sit up slowly, embarrassment and shame washing over you at the thought of him having to witness this.

He shifts at the loss of your warmth mumbling something incoherent as you silently panic.

“Jude..” you whispered, nervous of what he might think.

You had only been dating for a couple of months and he had been the sweetest boyfriend ever but the embarrassment was clouding your judgment, thinking the absolute worst of what his reaction might be.

“Hmm, morning love” he hummed with his eyes still closed, unaware of the internal crisis you were going through.

You moved farther up the bed, your eyes starting to glaze over. “Jude,” you say again “I’m sorry..I’m really sorry.”

Finally opening his eyes, he looks over at you seeing the look of panic and embarrassment on your face. He then looks down to see what it is that's causing you so much distress.

“Oh, baby..” he coos.

For some reason that makes you even more emotional now sniffling and wiping your cheeks of your tears.

“I didn't know... I’m sorry” you repeat.

Jude looks at you with concern and love in his eyes. “Darling, don't apologize it’s perfectly normal. I know you didn’t mean it.” He sits upright scotting closer to you so that you're in his reach.

He pulls you closer to his side leaving a lingering kiss on your temple.

“I’ve got it, okay baby? Just go and wash up and I’ll deal with the sheets okay?” he reassures.

You look at him hesitantly repeating your apologies. “I swear it’s just fine” He giggles lightly giving you a kiss on your cheek after wiping your tears.

You slowly rise from the bed and rush to the bathroom, wishing the ground would just swallow you up.

You finish washing up, changing into one of Jude’s old jerseys. You then step out into the bedroom to see the sheets removed and hear the washer running.

You walk out into the hallway making your way into the kitchen to see your boyfriend standing over the stove, shirtless, looking handsome as ever.

He turns when he hears you padding into the space, sending you a gentle smile.

You awkwardly make your way over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head against his chest.

“Hi,” he chuckles lightly at your actions.

You look up at him with a nervous smile. “Hi,” you whisper back.

“You hungry? I’m making your favorite!” he proclaims excitedly.

You look over to see blueberry pancakes simmering over the fire and fresh fruits cut in your favorite bowl.

“Aww, Jude you didn't have to, really.” You insist.

“Of course I did, my baby’s not feeling well.” he retorts with a charming smile on his face. You giggle at this reaching up to give him a quick kiss.

“I really am sorry about your sheets Jude, I usually know when it’s coming I-”

“Baby” he cuts you off, “I understand, accidents happen. You never have to be embarrassed with me, okay?”

“It’s my job to look after you, and I love it so take a seat while I serve you your breakfast.” he coos

Before you can respond he kisses you passionately, running his hands along your arms causing you to giggle a little from the ticklish sensation.

“Okay?” he asks. “Okay,” you happily respond.

#jude bellingham x reader #football fanfic #football imagines #footballer x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #hey jude #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fic

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sissyslutsusan · 2 days ago

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I met this older dominant man the other night at a trans club. He and some younger men kept hitting on me and buying me drinks, one after the other. And the more I drank the bolder and looser I became. Sitting at a high top table wearing a tight little black dress with my nyloned legs crossed, and 6" heels, I could see showing these guys some leg was definitely turning them on. I started grabbing their cocks through the pants, rubbing their asses, dancing with them, and being very flirtatious. One of the younger guys was kissing my neck, and another guy was hugging me from behind. The third younger guy had his had on my legs and kept trying to go under my dress. It was getting very busy at my table and I was having a hard managing so many men. I can be a little bitch sometimes so I was somewhat sarcastic and saucy with them. So, I was a bit drunk and felt if I was going to leave with one of these guys I would be safer going with the older guy. We went out to his car and the first thing he says is let's get a motel room. I didn't want to lose my virginity in his car If necessary, I could always perform oral sex on him which I had done many times with different men at these clubs. OMG! It wasn't long before he was all over me, grabbing me, grabbing my tits and ass, he was acting crazy! It was like he got a second wind, and I was wondering if I left with the right guy! He grabbed my hand and placed it on his outer pants so I could feel his cock. Even though I hadn't seen it yet I knew then it was big and very hard. I started jacking him off and he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled his big cock out. It was huge and very thick. I thought I could jack him off and that would be the end of it but he grabbed my head and forced it down onto his big veiny hard cock. I knew there was no way to stop him now so I started licking and sucking his big dick. I lapped the mushroomed looking head and could taste precum oozing from the head of his cock. I started bobbing my head up and down and at the same time stroking his shaft and playing with his balls. He was really horny because it didn't take him long to ejaculate sperm into my mouth and down my throat. He forced his cock so deep down my throat I gagged a bit and was choking on all the cum he pumped down my throat. This video is literally the way he treated me! It felt like I was his personal little whore! He slapped me, used two fingers to pull my mouth open wider, choked me, stuck his tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately, then spit into my mouth, he hiked my little black dress up, ripped my pantyhose, and played with my ass and clitty. His hands were big and very strong. He made me cum in my panties. His hand was full of my cum when he told me to start licking! The inside of my mouth was coated in his cum and drying on the corners of my lips where some of his semen had leaked out. I didn't really want both of our cum coating my inner mouth. He then forced his cum covered hand into my mouth without even asking me or giving me a chance to say no. He was twisting my body like a pretzel in all kinds of ways! It was like I was a contortionist. Once he flipped me onto my back I thought for sure he was going to fuck me because he removed my panties. But he couldn't really get buy his console because it was too high. So he then spun me so I was sideways in the car, pushed me forward, hiked my dress up, and started slapping my ass really hard! So hard and for so long I had bruises on it when I got home! All of these things went on for at least an hour in his car. I was completely worn out and he had so much energy and was so strong there wasn't much I could do to prevent this from getting out of control. He could have done anything he wanted to me and I would have had to give in to him. After I got back into my car I felt relieved he didn't make me suck his cock again because it was very hard as I was leaving. He really abused me and made me his whore for the night.....I can't wait to see him again! <smile>

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myth1cs · 2 days ago

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Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)

Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617

As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.

"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."

When he said that I turned to Yeji.

"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"

"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"

After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.

"What was that Y/N?"

"Ryujin? What are you doing?"

"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."

"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."

"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"

"Yes but only-"

Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.

"Don't go over to her house."

"Why?"

"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."

"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"

"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."

Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.

I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.

I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.

At Yeji's House

I knocked on the door and waited for a response.

After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.

"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"

"Sure am Yeji."

Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.

After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.

"Y/N is that your phone?"

"Yeah why?"

"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."

"Don't worry about it Yeji."

I went and put me phone on silent.

"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"

"No it was just a spam message."

"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."

I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.

"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"

"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"

"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"

"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."

"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."

Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."

I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.

"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"

"Yeah sure let's do it."

I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.

"Let's go back to our work Y/N."

Next Day

As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"

Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"

Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"

I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.

When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.

"Y/N make your way to room 304."

"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.

"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."

I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.

"Glad you decided to follow me."

I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.

When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"

Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.

Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"

"Actually she's my girlfriend."

I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."

"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.

"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."

"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.

"Come on Yeji let's go back."

After School

As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin

Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."

I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.

Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."

I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.

"Hello?"

"Come in!"

When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.

"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"

I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.

"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"

"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."

Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.

"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."

Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.

"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."

"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"

Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.

"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"

"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"

Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.

"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."

Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.

"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"

"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."

Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.

"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"

I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.

"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.

Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.

"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"

"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."

Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.

I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.

"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"

"Ryujin!"

I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.

"Please Ryujin!"

"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."

"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"

Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.

"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."

"Mommy please!"

My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.

"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"

Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.

Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.

"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.

The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.

"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"

"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"

"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"

I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.

I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.

"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."

"Kiss me."

Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.

"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.

Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.

"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"

"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"

"Did you hear something Ryujin?"

"No must've been the wind."

I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.

"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"

"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."

Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.

"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.

I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.

"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."

"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."

"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."

The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.

"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"

"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"

"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.

I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.

"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.

"So your cock does still have some life in it."

"Yeji please no more."

"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"

I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.

"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"

"Yeji my cock is so sore!"

After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.

"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."

"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."

"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."

Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.

The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.

"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.

"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."

"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"

"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."

I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.

"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."

"What!?

"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."

Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired

Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.

#itzy #ryujin #shin ryujin #itzy smut #kpop smut #smut #girl group smut #itzy x reader #ryujin smut #kpop gg #yeji #yeji smut #threes0me

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endearng · 1 day ago

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Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, p in v, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how the French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog.

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?"

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock,"

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me."

"I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #switch!spencer reid #softdom!spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

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madamechrissy · 2 days ago

Text

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso has a tongue ring for reasons... oh and a dick piercing for other reasons. In this chapter, blow jobs, fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, semi public sex, lots of confusion, jealousy happening, friends w/benefits

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10.6k

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️

Chapter One 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Two

Your POV

You wake up the next morning in a strong pair of arms, with a thigh pressed up between your thighs, you flush when you realize where you were, in your best friend’s arms. Arms the squeeze you just a little tighter, his breath hot on your neck, tickling you and making you tremble, then he shifts his thigh, and fuck it’s pressed even more, and you’re arching up for it without thinking.

He moans softly, you feel his long dark lashes fluttering against your cheek, you are tense against him. “Mmm, g’morning.” He mumbles, burying his head back in the crook of your neck.

“G’morning, Cho.” You say softly, he pulls you even closer now, pecking little kisses down your neck, it feels way too good, too natural.

Not once had you felt like this.

Was it because you’ve known him like the back of your hand forever? Possibly, not having to worry if you look good, if you’re done up enough, to just be a little bit of a mess next to him was so comfortable. But also, it didn’t feel odd in his arms, you’d knocked right out, and now you feel that same thrill you did last night, remembering the pleasure he gave you.

You’re blushing now, cheeks hot, vivid images of his dark hair between your thighs, those violet eyes as his tongue ring had done wicked things. You’re getting wet just thinking of it, and he tenses himself behind you, arm tightening, his breath catching in his throat. You’re sure he can tell, making you embarrassed.

“You’re so hot there.” He whispers, and you cry out just a bit when he presses up once more, your hand clutches the pillow under it tightly.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m…”

“Sorry, for what? Being sexy.” Fuck you adore your best friend, his kisses against your neck turning hotter, his mouth opening, tongue lapping at you, making you shiver with desire, coursing down your body. You shift, and he moans again. “Fuck.”

“Sorry!” You cover your face, and he gently pulls your hand down, turning your face to look at him.

“Stop apologizing. Do you want me to get her off again?”

“Fuck, yes. But I wanna do things to you.”

“You can get me later.” He says, pressing up once more, and now you’re shamelessly rubbing on his thigh. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Choso…” You whisper, eyes dropping to his lips, glossy as he licks them slowly, a big hand pressing against your tummy.

“Let me get you off, angel.” You shake your head, making him smile a bit, running his fingers down your tummy, rolling against your clit now, pressing his thigh up further, you’re bare aside from his big shirt, dripping down his sweats. “Oh my god, you feel so good, you’re this wet for me?”

“Shush, supposed to be… friends…”

“Friends who fuck, hmm?” You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut at his gentle circles, as you keep grinding on his thigh helplessly. “So then I can talk to you like that, if you want.”

“I want.” Is all you manage, getting wetter and wetter as your hips move, his fingers hitting the perfect rhythm, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Then let me tell you how good you feel against me.” He pulls his thigh back then, you whine out at the loss. “Aw, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, so fucking sexy, your silly Cho Bear, it wrecks your mind.

Now he is pressing his cock against your back, you feel how hard and thick he is, when he grabs a thigh and brings it high over his leg, and plunges two fingers in your pussy now. You’re pouring more all over his fingers, weakly crying out at how good it feels, reaching a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his lips to yours as you turn your head back to him.

He moans, still fingering you so good you can’t stand it, you want so much more, especially that thick cock against you, fuck it felt so big, you ache to see it, to feel it. Choso’s tongue ring hits your own tongue, clicking gently against your teeth, as you suck on it playfully, earning more of his moans, more of his fingers.

“Close, Cho… m’close.” You whisper, and he looks at you with those dilated eyes, fingerfucking you faster, scissoring his fingers in and out, you’re so close you shatter at it, and he’s watching as your eyes roll back, as your mouth is open, you think you must look so dumb-

“Oh, you’re so pretty.” He says instead, and you begin to climax, it washes all over your body, you’re pulsing around his long fingers now, and he eases, slipping them out to toy with your clit, making you jerk.

“Sensitive.” Your voice is faint, you’re reaching behind you to find him, earning his own moan, his eyes fluttering shut, he keeps torturing your clit, until you’re close again, this time overstimulated. “Do you um, wanna fuck? Or want me to suck you?”

“Both, and add wanna eat you again.” You giggle breathlessly.

“You’re a freak, Cho Bear.”

“You really haven’t seen much freak yet, angel. But you’re so cute and nervous, I love you like this.” He brings his fingers to your lips, and you are sucking yourself off of him, stroking him over his sweats as he bucks into your palm. “You sure you wanna have sex today, we can wait. I don’t mind.”

“We’re friends with benefits, Cho.”

“Benefits are you looking pretty in my arms.” You melt then, fuck he’s perfect, and fuck Yuki is a fool.

“Choso you’re gonna snatch someone up so quick, perfect ass.”

“And look at you.”

“A hot mess.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, body still reacting to his touch, to the pleasure he gave you, you’ve got him on his back now, your hair falling half out of your loose ponytail. He smiles, gently shaking it out, running his hand through it.

He’s seen you a million times in this state, but somehow you find yourself worrying a bit, what does he think, Yuki was always so put together…

“You’re so pretty in the morning. Even with this mess.” He teases, pulling your hair softly, and watching you cry out hungrily, tattooed hands sliding down your arms now, before he’s reaching for that shirt, pulling it flush against your body.

“Are you ready for my amazing skills?” You tease, trying to shove down the feeling of being so into him, of loving everything about this too much already.

“I’m ready, show me what you got.”

“As a friend.”

He snorts. “Best friend. Oh… mmm…” He lets out this soft cry when you’re sliding down his sweats, and he’s so thick, his cock is so sexy it alone has you pulsing all over again. Especially when you see it.

“Cho… do you have…”

“Oh, it won’t hurt you, promise.” He says softly, when you see there is a piercing on the underside of his cock, right under his tip, two silver balls on either side of a barbell. You’re flustered as you study it, and Choso gets flustered as you do. “Is it… like weird or-”

“No, no! It’s really hot. Um… just didn’t know… they pierced these? Did it hurt at all?”

“No, it won’t hurt if you play with it either, don’t worry.” He gently takes your hand, putting it on it now, you feel your tummy clenching as you touch it, the skin thin over the piercing, and he moans softly.

“Does it feel good there?” He nods eagerly, urging you on as you study him, the room is dimly lit by the morning sun peeking through the blinds, casting a warm glow over Choso’s toned body. He’s gorgeous as fuck you think, especially the little blush on his cheeks when you stroke him once softly, tentatively.

“Tell me what you like, Cho bear. Like I did.” You tease, your hands are shaking slightly as you wrap your fingers around his thickness, stroking him gently, feeling him thicken.

“I would like you kissing me anywhere.” He says then, his big hands sliding up your shirt, sliding against your bare skin, making your breath catch. “I’d also love to see your pretty body again.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, sighing. “I’m not very sexy.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m awkward, Cho. But here.” You go to pull up his shirt now, letting it slide up off your head, falling to the bed next to you, and he eagerly grips your breasts, squishing them before you pull away. “Let me kiss you all over then.”

“Please.” His breathy reply urges you on, and he exhales as you kiss down his neck, your mouth tracing the line of his collarbone, down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, smelling the heady scent of him. Something warm and intoxicating. He’s watching you, eyes full of desire, when you kiss a flat brown nipple his hands dig into your hair. “Sorry…”

“Cho, I don’t mind.” You say with a little smile, kissing down his chest, your hands sliding back down, one finding his cock again, as you kiss further and further, feeling the flutter of nerves as you do. You’d done this before, but you wanna do such a good job, Choso looked thrilled about it all, which melts you.

He’s now gently stroking your cheek, not listening to you, instead of pulling on your hair. “So pretty.”

You hide your pleased little smile, kissing further down, now holding his thick length, fuck he’s so big it’s intimidating, he has precum dripping out of the little hole on his tip, your thumb swirls it around, his hips buck up just at that. “Cho, you’re so big, you sure that’ll fit?”

“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.” He says, he’s so sweet you think, as you’re studying his perfect features, the straight nose, the bow of his lips. “I will have you so ready, you are really tight though.”

“Gonna stretch me out, Cho?” When your mouth reaches the tip of his cock, you give it a tentative lick, and he gasps, you taste the salty but sweet sticky liquid there, taking more of his tip in then.

He gasps, his hand coming to the back of your head, entangling in your hair now, his moans urging you on. “Feels so good.”

“Mmm.” You take him in your mouth now, feeling the hot skin stretched tight over his hardness with your tongue. Choso’s moans fill the room, urging you on as you bob your head, finding a rhythm now, and he’s a mess under you.

“S’good, s’good, you’re�� yes, please, there.” He is muttering in a little mantra, his eyes never leaving yours, so dilated they look black now, you pull up just a bit with a pop, Choso’s thumb traces your lips. “You look so pretty like this.”

“You can push me on it if you want.”

“No! I can’t. You’re too… cute and… I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Choso, stop. You won’t. Push a little.” He tentatively puts his hand on the back of your head now, pushing up, his hips rock slightly, fucking your mouth. You moan around him, loving the feeling of him fucking you deeper.

“Are you okay?” You nod around his length, and he’s fucking up harder, you hear the sound of your suction mixing with his sexy sounds. “That’s it, you’re so good.”

All his praise gets you so wet, and you are sucking him deeper, eager to taste him fully, to make him feel the same way he made you feel last night. Your mouth takes him in, inch by inch, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue, which darts across the barbell on the underside of his thick cock.

You never minded oral, but something about tasting him makes you love it, you could do it forever if it wasn’t for the tenseness in your jaw. You breathe out your nose, relaxing your throat now, eating up the way he responds to every movement you make. His hands are in your hair now, not guiding but holding, as if he can't get enough of the sight of your lips wrapped around him.

You take him deep as you can, your throat tightening around him, he gasps, hips bucking up. “Don’t do too much!”

You laugh a bit, pulling back. “I’m good, promise. I like it.”

“Fuck you’re hot.” You giggle again, he’s just so sweet. You swirl your tongue around the tip, licking off the precum that's leaking out, and you notice Choso's thighs are trembling, his abs tightening as you suck him, and you know he's close, you can feel him getting even thicker.

With a final moan, he pulls you off, and you look up at him, eyes watering slightly, your lips swollen from your efforts. "Let me finish.”

“No, I want to feel you, please." He says, his voice hoarse, and you nod, feeling your heart skip a beat at the thought. He flips on top of you now, licking a thumb and rubbing your clit, and you're wet and ready, panting for him.

“You don’t have to, I’m so ready.” You plead, Choso’s eyes get lidded, continuing his little circles, making you whine out for him, reaching down and stroking him once more.

“You’re really tiny.”

“I can stretch.”

“Not very angelic.” He says, teasingly, and you both giggle nervously. He slips two fingers inside you, groaning out as he does. “You’re so wet. From sucking me? How…”

You slide your hands up to cup his face. “Because it’s hot, just like how you got hard eating me out.”

He kisses you again, and you drown in those kisses, your friend’s lips shouldn’t feel this good, should they? You shove that out of your mind, you’re both inexperienced, one partner doesn’t mean you all suddenly can just fuck. Of course you wanted to feel more, casual sex isn’t something you’re used to yet.

That and Choso’s lips are plush, his fingers are thick, his body is hot… he’s perfect, and you’re craving him more than anything. You’re rolling your hips up for more, more, more of him, he breaks that kiss, leaning up, a little trail of saliva between your lips for just a moment, before studying you. So intense you’re blushing again.

He takes his fingers out, sucking on them again, off his black nails, as if you’re the yummiest treat. “Do you want to… use a…”

“Oh, y-yeah. Sure?” He laughs softly then, brushing your hair gently, leaning on an elbow over you.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re cute, Cho bear.”

“Hmm…” He kisses you once more, leaning over to his nightstand, pulling out a row of magnum condoms, and you blush further. “Is everything okay? If you change your mind please tell me. We can-”

“No, no! Um. I’m ready. I want to.” You lean up on your elbows, watching him while nibbling your lower lip. “I just can’t believe we are doing this?”

“I know it’s like some dream from high school.” You giggle a bit.

“I know, though my dreams weren’t this… wild.”

“No?” He’s tearing the condom with his teeth, pulling it out and putting it at the tip of his cock now, you sit up a bit, grabbing it, catching his eyes.

“Let me.” He nods, that pink back on his cheeks, letting you gently roll the condom down his length, his cock twitches as you touch it. “My dreams in high school of you were us just making out.”

“You really dreamt of that?” He asks softly, and you nod, looking away, embarrassed to say such things. He grabs your face gently. “Hey… don’t get shy about it. I liked you too, remember?” You nod again. “Let me get some lube, it may be uncomfy with a condom.”

“Oh, I’m more than wet enough.” You say with a blush, but he’s laying you back down, kissing your tummy, before he’s spreading your thighs, and spits right on your pussy. “Oh!”

“So sexy.” He murmurs, licking you and spreading the spit all around your clit, your lips, your entrance. You grip his hair tightly, yanking on him.

“Fuck me, please.” He leans up quickly, his tip pressing against your little entrance, and you gasp, eyes locking on his. He has one hand pressing your thigh up, the other cupping your face.

“I’ll do anything when you ask so sweetly.” He teases, kissing you again, pressing deeper. You gasp, clinging to his bare back with your nails, he hisses a bit as they press in, leaving little half moons on his skin. “Oh my… oh my god. Are you okay!?”

You nod weakly, as he’s stretching you, pressing deeper, and stretching you out, then you feel it, the piercing, dragging on your walls, making you gasp. “Oh my… oh my god…”

“Fuck let me prep you more.” He goes to pull up, you pull him down, shaking your head, rolling your hips up.

“No, no, please do that again!” He takes a shaky breath, pulling out and then pressing back in, hitting some spot again that has your eyes rolling back. “More, please, more!”

“Anything you want, pretty. Oh you feel so tight, mmm.” He whispers, pulling out and pushing back in, fucking you with just half of his cock, but it feels so good you’re shattering, especially when his hand slides up to grip your wrists, and he pumps quicker.

“There, there!” He drags his piercing against your spot again, making you cum so hard it’s stupid, then you’re pulsing around him, soaking his length, making him slip in easier and easier. “Choso!”

“Mmm, good girl. Feel you cumming on me.” He whispers, your eyes open with a gasp, your hands weakly reaching up for him, digging into his slender hips, he’s kissing you gently, your cheeks, your eyes, letting you catch a breath. “Can you take more, angel? Or want me… half in.”

“I can do it.” He smiles a bit, shoving in then, and you gasp as he hits your cervix, so fucking deep you can’t stand it, you feel so full, so full of him. “Mmm!”

“Mmm…” You both moan into each other’s mouths as he lets you adjust to the sensation, as he feels so good this deep, tip kissing your cervix. He leans up and kisses you messy now, desperate, pulling back and pushing back in, stuffing your cunt so full of him, you’re dripping everywhere, getting wetter and wetter. “Feel s’good…”

“You… feel… so… ah!” You cry out as he’s fucking into you harder, mouth wide open, back arching.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll slow down…”

“No, no, more. More.” He groans now over you, fucking into you harder, and your cunt eagerly sucks him in, his tip and that damn ring dragging along your fluttering walls under the thin layer of latex. “M’cumming!”

Choso shoves a leg up now, over his shoulder, fucking so deep you fall off that edge, cumming even harder, and he sucks in a breath as you do, feeling you clench around him so tightly. He’s kissing your ankle, your leg, his free hand pressing down on your hips, pinning you to the bed as you ride out your second orgasm from his cock, already weak.

“Can I go faster, please? You feel s’good I can’t take it.” He whispers softly, brows furrowed, you nod eagerly, then he’s fucking into you hard, skin smacking, the squishing sound of your pussy mixing with both of your cries. “Oh fuck you’re pretty, s’pretty angel…”

“Cho…” You’re sobbing as he enters you, over and over, wrecking everything you are, your mind can’t even function as he works you, your hands gripping the sheets, eyes struggling to focus on his handsome face, on his abs flexing. He fucks you so deep it hurts finally. “Ah!”

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” He leans down, only stretching your leg further, pulling his hips back and cupping your face. “Are you o-okay!?”

“Yes, yes, keep going.”

“We should…”

“Cho, I love it. Okay?” He exhales, kissing you softly, leaning up again and starting to fuck you at the same pace, then when he hurts you again, it’s like you’re craving it, that pain of him bruising that cervix. “Y-yes, mmm!”

“You s-sure?” He asks softly, his voice breaking with a moan.

“M’sure, yes, please. Go hard.” He does as you ask, fucking you deep and rough now, and your body lights up for it, he’s easing your thigh down now, gripping your throat with his tatted hand, so big, as he moves between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty like this.” He says softly, squeezing gently, thumb right on your pulse, that’s fluttering under his touch. “Can I choke your pretty neck?”

“Yes, yes. Please.” You have no clue what the fuck you’re doing, all you know is his huge length pounding in your pussy is driving you insane, his hand is squeezing, he’s looking how pretty you are with his hand on your throat, licking his glossy lips as he works you slower, squeezing.

“God you’re sexy. Tap me if it’s too much.” You nod a bit, then he’s squeezing harder as he fucks you, violet eyes drinking you in, lashes lowered, fucking into you with deep, strong strokes. Your pussy struggles to take him, stretched beyond her means, but you crave it, along with the bliss of him squeezing.

You’re weakly whining out as he squeezes more and more, you watch the tattoos down his body move with his muscles flexing, watch as he is staring down at your pussy, exhaling.

“She’s taking me so well. You’re so good f’me.” He says, squeezing harder and pressing in, rolling his hips just so, the tightness in your tummy builds, so much pressure, you’re cumming again, and now you’re barely able to make a sound, he’s squeezing so tight.

You’re getting fuzzy, the orgasm sapping the last breaths you had, to the point Choso is blurring, your face is getting so flush as he squeezes, big hands taking your throat over completely. The thrill of it, the fuzzy, floating feeling, mixing with the orgasm is overwhelming, you’re fading until he lets you go, carefully laying on you, brushing his fingers along your neck as you suck in air.

“I said tap, you were about to… mmm… you’re so tight how!?” You giggle, breathless, earning a cute glare.

“I could pass out, you’d wake me.” You tease, then gasp as he shoves his cock in so deep it hurts, the pressure, the fullness, bottoming out and stuffing you. “Cho!”

“You are giggling?” You shake your head, dying for this version of your sweet best friend, the one fucking you stupid. “Good. Why don’t you cum again?”

“Make me.”

“Make you.” He laughs softly, shaking his head, taking your hand then, sliding it down your tummy. “You rub that pretty little clit.”

“Yes Sir.” You tease, but you watch the effects on his face, watch his jaw drop open, his eyes fluttering shut when you rub your clit, soaking wet and slippery. “Mmm… want yours.”

“So greedy, aren’t you angel?” You smile, but the smile is cut off when he takes your fingers, sucking on them, rubbing your clit insted, leaning back on his knees, you’re screaming so goddamn loud you’re sure his neighbors here. “No more laughing.”

“N-no more.” You manage to squeak out, eyes rolling back, hips bucking up when he fucks into you, thrusts harder, his balls smacking against your ass, while he’s rubbing that clit like he’s always known you. “Ah!”

“That’s it. One more time. Please.” You’re too far into it not to, cumming so intensely you’re blinded again, hands in fists on his sheets, orgasm washing over you in waves. You’re trembling and gasping when he’s leaning over you, his heavy weight pressed against you. “Good girl.”

“Choso you’re making me dumb.” You whisper, tears falling from how much he’d made you cum, he cups your face, shaking his head.

“Never, too smart.”

“Cho…”

“I’m close, do you want me to stop?”

“No! No… cum, please. Cum.” He nods gently, kissing you now, one of his hands entwining with yours, sucking your breath away, you’re surrounded by nothing but Choso. It’s so fucking intimate tears fall, he gasps as he leans back, his head tilting up, showing that adam’s apple bobbing.

“You’re so hot, you’re so perfect, you- ah! Mmm!” Choso’s cock thickens, and you feel pulsing inside his condom, as his cock gets hotter inside of you, and his pumping slows, gently now, as he looks back at you. You’re trembling, kissing him though your tears, which he now notices, brushing them aside. “Did I hurt you angel?”

“No, no. Not at all.” You takes several breaths, and he rests his forehead on yours now. It all feels too good. This shouldn’t feel this good!?

Is this what sex was?

Or was this sex with Choso?

“What’s wrong!? Please tell me. I’ll fix it.” He whispers, kissing your tears, which just pour more at how sweet he is. You shake your head.

“No, it was so perfect, it just… was intense? And got me… emotional. How embarassing, ugh-”

“No, it’s not at all!” He swipes your tears away, and you look up at him with trembling lips. “You are just feeling a lot. Was this too soon from your breakup?”

You laugh softly. “I haven’t thought of him actually all morning. Is that awful of me?”

“No, it’s not.” He eases out of you, and you hiss a bit at it. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you, she looks all swollen.” He frowns then, running his fingers down your pussy lips, all puffy from him. You feel them throb in response.

“No, no, I’m just still new at this. And you’re really big.” You blush as you look at his cock, with the condom half on, the white cum pooling at the tip, and so very much of it too.

“I hope you wanna do it again. I swear next time-”

“Cho, stop. Fucking loved it. Tears of cumming a lot. Swear.” He smiles big then, and you melt, melt too much, surely. “I’ve never felt like that.”

“Me either-”

“Choso, you liked fucking. Don’t say that just to say it.” You sit up a bit then, looking for your shirt, as you worry then, what must your inadequacies be? Ino had no issue leaving you-

“Hey, hey.” He slides your shirt over your head, rubbing your shoulders gently, frowning now as he looks at you. “I mean it. You’re so beautiful, you feel so good around me, I came so hard-”

“Don’t say all that.” You swipe at your eyes, and Choso sighs, turning and giving you a view of his insanely muscled back, his round little ass, you see the tattoo that runs down his neck, twigs entwining down his muscles. Fuck he’s perfect.

“I told you, I say what I mean.” He says softly, turning back to you, and you are standing nervously.

“You loved Yuki.”

“I thought I was falling. Yeah. But… I don’t know. She’s not on my mind.” He cups your face, bringing you close now.

“Friends can feel like that?”

“Do you want more?”

“Cho… we said…”

“Yeah.” He blinks a bit, and you both stand there awkwardly.

“I should go.”

“What!?” Choso stops you now, pulling your back against him, and years of feelings pour in, overtaking you. All those years you both pined for others, always just missing each other, that’s how it was supposed to be, right? “Don’t leave, I’ll really think I hurt you.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t hurt me.”

He kisses your neck, exhaling. “Do you not wanna do this again? Is it too weird with how close we are?”

“No, no! I love it. Um… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’re swiping more tears, as you realize you could have been doing this, and that nothing has ever felt more right. But you now know Choso clearly… “You did it a lot, Cho?”

“Um… yeah. A lot.” You turn then, looking back up at him. “Is that bad?”

“No! No… you seem really good at everything. I don’t think I am.”

“What? You-”

“I didn’t do anything but lay there!”

“You’re being silly. Stop it.” He picks you up now, throwing you on the bed, and begins tickling you, making you gasp.

“Stop!”

“When you stop being mean to yourself. Better be nice, you’re my best friend. Hah!” He gets you right under your breasts, and you laugh so hard you can barely breathe, wriggling under him.

“Mercy!”

“Mmm, thought so.” He stops, leaning over you, and you brush his hair back with a shaky hand. “I wanna do that all the time.”

“Fuck me?” You whisper.

“Oh God yes, in every position. You know you blush all over?”

“Hey!” You’re giggling and he leans down, then pauses. You both look at each other, the room silent now aside from Choso’s fan whirring and your labored breaths. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to lose you, ever.”

You blink emotions back. “Oh Cho… you won’t.”

“Promise me?” He holds up a pinky, you smile softly, taking his pinky in yours, curling them together. “If it ever gets too much, if it will fuck up our friendship, you have to tell me.”

“I swear I will. I’m just… new to this. I’m sorry I cried.”

“Don’t you apologize.” He kisses you gently, leaning up. “We said just around sex, the kissing, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I guess we did.” He pulls away with a sigh, and helps you up now, hugging you tightly, kissing your head as he always has, like a friend.

A friend.

A friend with a huge cock.

A friend with a tongue that’s…

Stop that!

“Let’s get your clothes from your place and get coffee? Yeah bestie?” He asks with a smile, and you nod shyly now. “Bestie with the tightest pussy-”

“Cho!”

Choso’s POV

Five days later- Friday Night

Choso hasn’t been able to get you off his mind all week, now he is tuning his guitar, next to Yuji and Megumi, prepping for their show tonight. Choso sees Megumi as his other little brother, Yuji’s best friend forever, Yuji is tuning his bass guitar as Megumi is fiddling with his drums. The nightclub is packed tonight, tons of eager girls and fans surrounding them.

But his mind keeps drifting to you, when would you be coming, would you come, you all had just… gone back to being friends all week, both working, but texting more, and talking more, like you used to. Which he loves so much, he missed your brightness in his life, but also…Now he’s been inside of you, he’s tasted you, and you’ve tasted him.

How does he just go back to normal after it?

It feels almost wrong not dating you after being so intimate, Choso knows he’s a bit old fashioned for a man with a tongue ring, tattoos and a dick piercing, but he actually is old school when it comes to romance. It may be why he had already thought of proposing to Yuki, because that’s just what he felt was right to do, and god nothing he did before came close to you.

That’s what is really messing with him, watching your pretty face flush as he’d squeezed your throat? His tattooed, big hands wrapped on your tiny little neck, your eyes so dilated, as he had you writhing under him. How does he just compute that as his friend?

That’s what you wanted, he supposes he wanted it too, to not date anyone for some time, but now he’s going insane thinking of you, but also he doesn’t want to push something, ruin something. So he has to act unaffected, normal, every morning bringing you a coffee, but now his eyes dip to your cleavage in your pretty work dresses, just a hint, but now he knows what your breasts look like.

Now he knows how those legs feel around his face, around his hips, and knows how it feels to have that heat surrounding him. He’d jerked it to the memories every night since he saw you last, mental images driving him to insanity, to the point it’s difficult to focus on anything else. Even now you dance through his mind, as he keeps peeking at his phone, putting his guitar down then, when he sees it light up.

Angel💜 - I’m out front Cho Bear!

Choso smiles then, and Yuji comes up to him, peeking and smiling. “Hey, it’s my future wife!”

“In your dreams.” Megumi mumbles, smirking lazily when Yuji pouts.

“You’re mean, Megumi! Choso, you gotta hook me up with her. Please!” Choso usually would laugh at that, but now…

He gets irritated at his own brother?

What’s your pussy done to him, jesus.

“You’re still a baby, kiddo.” He ruffles Yuji’s pink spiky hair, earning his brother’s pout.

“But she broke up with that guy you said?”

“Yeah, so, you’re not getting her. She’s too hot for you.” Megumi says, then he chuckles a bit. “Me, though? Maybe.”

Choso glares at Megumi now, twirling his sticks in his hand, lazily looking as you walk through the front doors. “You’re both too young.”

“She’s twenty four, I’m nineteen, it’s not even that big of a deal. Megumi, you’re eighteen so hah!” Yuji says, pointing at him with a laugh. Megumi rolls his eyes.

“For two months-”

“Neither of you. Keep dreaming.” Choso says, waving over at you, and his heart falters when he drinks you in, this pretty black corset and a little plaid skirt with chains, you look so good he…

“Fuck she’s hot.” Yuji whistles, and Choso smacks him on the back of the head. “What are you finally gonna shoot your shot? Been my whole life almost.”

“We’re… just… friends.” He mumbles.

“Then hook your little brother up!”

“Nah. Now shut up, she’s coming.” You bounce up to them, a big smile on your pretty face, it’s like everyone else in the room fades. Choso has always known how beautiful you are, but now it’s ridiculous, how has he had such a pretty best friend, how has it not affected him, until now that he’s had just a taste of you.

And did you ever want to again? You’d been nothing but sweet and friendly, texting him several times a day, pictures of your meals or little selfies, along with all sorts of funny things you find. But that’s how you all were before Ino and Yuki, it was just the same, but now he wants to ask you for the lewdest things.

He wants to slide that skirt up in the bathroom and go down on you, fuck he could do that forever you taste so good, have your wetness dripping down his face, taste you on his lips all night. He gets hard under his dark black jeans thinking of it, shaking himself out of that as you get paused by several guys along the way, all hitting on you.

Of course they are.

But it makes him angry.

Choso is going to suck at this friends with benefits thing, isn’t he? He finally holds out a hand for you, and you take it eagerly, hopping up on the stage and hugging him tightly. He exhales at how good you feel, you’re so small compared to him, he could just pick you up and-

Fuck.

“Cho Bear, I’m so excited! I hope this outfit fits the vibe.” You say, and he stands back, eyeing you up and down, lips parted. You blush just a bit.

“You look so hot. I’ll say it for him.” Yuji says, as Choso is standing there, unable to even fucking speak. God what’s going on with him?

“Thanks, Yuji. Missed you!” You give him a hug, and Yuji enjoys it far too much. “You’ve gotten taller!”

“He’s still short.” Megumi teases, earning Yuji’s glare over your shoulder, he won’t let you go.

“I’m like an inch shorter, ass-”

“You’re all short.” Choso says, earning their glares, and your giggle. You now come over to Megumi, who hugs you too tightly for Choso’s liking, he wishes they were still young enough he could give them whippings, little brats.

“Megumi! Missed you!” You say, and Megumi buries his face in your hair as he holds you too long.

They’d always done this, fawned over you, and it was cute, they were just babies after all, but now Choso wants you to himself, and even their teasing has him riled up. But it’s not as if you’re his, you’re just his friend, and he knows you see them as little brothers, so why is he feeling this way!?

Did you ruin him fucking him once?

“Missed you too. We both did. You look so pretty.” Megumi says now, and you giggle a bit, holding both of their hands.

“You both are trying to suck up to me, stop it. I bet you two get in trouble at college huh?”

“Nah, that’s him.” They say simultaneously, pointing at each other, you roll your eyes with a smile, turning back to Choso, your eyes dart down his body, and that blush comes back, and fuck you blush down your throat, your chest…

“You look beautiful. I’m sorry.” Choso says softly, you shake your head, walking back over to him and letting the boys argue.

“You don’t have to say that, it’s-”

“No, you do. You really do.” He brushes your hair back, and you gasp, eyes locking onto his, and just the slightest touch, drives him insane, especially when he sees the goosebumps rise on your pretty breasts, pressed high in that corset top, one he’d love to rip off you.

“Thank you, Cho. You look really hot.” You say softly, trying to compose yourself, running a finger down his black band shirt, smiling up at him.

“Thank you, I-”

“Choso, Choso!” The girls are lining up in hoards, and he sighs, rolling his eyes a bit, you giggle. “Is that your girlfriend!?”

“No, just my best friend.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you tense then, smiling with terse lips.

“Oh good! Can you sign my tits, Choso!” Choso rolls his eyes, and you step back, confusing him a bit.

“I’ll let you get started, I’ll be watching.” You say, and then he stops you, taking your hand gently.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No! No. I’m not cool with all the attention like you, is all.” You say, looking down nervously at your boots.

“Wait, I have a VIP tag, you can drink free all night.” You smile a bit then, and he snatches up the pass, putting it over your neck now, a neck he’d had-

Fuck.

“Thanks Cho, I can’t wait. You’re gonna kill it.” You kiss his cheek now.

“Are you… coming over? After?” He whispers now, in your ear, and you shift a bit nervously.

“I can come over. If you’ll still want to, you will be busy with all these-”

“I want you to. Please.” You step back, looking up at him.

“Of course, but don’t shut yourself off, we’re just…”

“Friends.”

“Yes.”

Choso sighs, looking at you. “Then why do I wanna-”

“Choso!” They’re all coming in hoards, before Choso can finish his sentence, that he wants to fuck you so badly you can’t walk the next day. But now he’s getting posters shoved at him to sign, and you wave at him, bouncing off over to the bar.

Just friends, huh?

Your POV

Choso, Megumi and Yuji absolutely kill the set. Choso is all sweaty now as he finishes the song, holding the mic with one hand, a hand that had been gripping your breast just last week. Lips singing, lips that had sucked your nipples into his mouth. Hips shifting, hips that had pumped in and out, wrecking your pussy, a pussy sore for days.

You can’t just think like that!

Friends, friends, friends.

Megumi and Yuji are playing so well, you remember the three of them in Choso’s garage constantly practicing, you’re so proud of them, they’re like your own little brothers. Choso however, was not like your brother, even before you all had made love, you always saw how hot he was, you always wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him.

He blew your fucking mind, you want more.

It took everything in you not to have begged him to come over, to have not just showed up at his house, fuck to not lift your skirt up and fuck in your little office at work, you were so tempted. It took everything in you to keep it together, playing with your pussy imagining Choso’s tongue ring hitting your clit instead, whining in frustration when nothing worked.

You shift now in your seat, Choso is taking a break, he smiles at you but a really pretty blond comes up to him now, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering something in his ear. You tense as you sip your drink, tasting the tart juice on your tongue, he’s not yours, why should you care? He never has been, and one night of sex didn’t change that.

She’s holding her phone out and laughing, she’s really pretty, you think, Choso laughs a bit, genuinely enjoying her. She looks like Yuki, that’s his type, right? And that’s fine, why do you care, why does the sight of them apparently exchanging numbers make you feel sick to your stomach? When this was all your idea, not Choso’s.

Did Choso even want you, or was this just some… friendship, feeling sorry for you… going along with it? He had talked to you constantly, but he certainly had not hit on you, even when you sent kind of suggestive pics, not once did he ask to see more, or even act like a ‘friend with benefits’ you almost wondered if he wanted to do it again at all.

Until he’d asked you to come over.

You hear your name, and a whistle, and look to your left, mouth dropping open when you see him, the guy that had taken your high school heart and crushed it, Satoru fucking Gojo. How you’d missed his shocking white hair you have no clue, maybe you’d been too absorbed in the show. Now he’s smirking down at you, looking as gorgeous if not more so.

Fucker.

“You really filled out late, hmm? Look hot as fuck.” He says, earning your glare, and he’s smirking more now.

“Fuck off, Gojo.”

“That’s not a good greeting, pretty.” He pouts those full lips at you, standing right in front of you at the bar, towering over you, he’s just a little taller than Choso. He’s got a drink in his hand, you smile at it.

“You drinking a pink pussy?”

“Fuck off it’s yummy.” You both laugh then, you hold out your hand to shake his, but he pulls it in, kissing the back of it.

High school you would be freaking the fuck out at this, but you remember Gojo breaking up with you at prom, and that really hurt at the time. Honestly you were broken over him for a whole damn year after, he’d been such a little shit then, surely he hasn’t changed. But also…

Your mind is wrapped in your best friend, the best friend who is dancing as there is different music playing now, a girl grinding on him. You take a shaky breath, realizing you’re being foolish. You perhaps can’t separate the two, sex from relationships, maybe you do need more experience.

“So… how have you been, pretty?” His words shake you out of your thoughts.

“I’m good, Gojo. You?” You ask, eyes back up to his, swirling blue intense eyes that had your heart in high school.

“I’m really good. Running the family business, so fun.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile at that.

“I’m sure you do great.”

“So you with Choso finally?”

“Oh, no. Still friends.” You blush, looking down at your now empty drink, Satoru takes it from your grip, ordering you a pink pussy. “I don’t want that!”

“We’ll both drink pussy tonight.” He says with an audacious wink, and you gasp at that, earning his chuckle as he hands you the pink drink.

“You’re too much.” You say, sipping it. “Yummy though.”

“Your pussy is yummy?” You gasp again, smacking at his chest, and he throws his head back with laughter, deep and husky.

“Maybe it is.” You say with a shy look down, and he curses softly.

“Oh fuck. You finally lost your pesky virginity?”

You sip the drink, glaring at him over the cup. “Oh fuck off, jock.”

“Not anymore. I’m lazy.”

“Sure you are.” You shove at him again, but he pins you between his arms, pressing you against the bar. “Why now? You didn’t like me enough then.”

“Maybe I was a jock idiot.” He murmurs, leaning far too close, and you feel your heart skip a beat. “Can I get a re-do? Grab some food sometime?”

You take a breath then, inhaling some stupidly expensive cologne. “I don’t know, Gojo, I just got out of a bad breakup.”

“So let’s fuck then.”

“Gojo!” You sigh, head leaning back, he’s chuckling.

“I’m kidding… kinda. A date with adult Gojo, not jock Gojo?”

“Ah, still doing that third person shit.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “Maybe we can grab a bite sometime. But no promises.”

Gojo grins, white teeth glinting, and he backs off, letting you breathe, you see Choso is finishing the dance up, and the girl is kissing on his cheek. You can see his blush from here, see his hand respectfully on her shoulder, while her hands are all over his chest, making your tummy turn.

You’re stupid. You had pined for Gojo, letting Choso go, only to now pine for Choso, and maybe let Gojo go. You can’t be that dumb girl.

Choso looks at you both now, eyes narrowing, and you decide to tiptoe, yanking Gojo down by his dress shirt, kissing his cheek. Choso glares now, leaving that girl finally and coming towards you both. You’re being petty and stupid, all while Satoru Gojo’s lips are almost against yours now, his big hand cupping your face.

“You did lose it, huh?” He teases, you snort, nodding now. “Aww you’re not such a goody goody.”

“You’re still a dick, Gojo.” You lean down, stepping back, only for him to bend low and kiss your cheek now, soft lips that were your first kiss all those years ago.

“Give me your number, little brat.” He murmurs.

“Oh fine. Don’t annoy me too much.” You give him your phone number as Choso walks by, and Gojo smiles at him.

“Great show, man, you killed it.” He says, and Choso smiles back a bit, nodding and holding a hand out.

“Thanks man. Fuck your best friend though.”

“I know, shit move.” Gojo says, shaking his head. “Pussy really fucks your head up though, y’know?”

“I do know. Catching up?” He asks now, looking at you directly, and you nod just a bit, as Gojo checks his phone.

“Shit, gotta go. Text me, pretty?” He asks you, kissing your cheek again, you sigh, shrugging one bare shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“Ouch.” He shivers again, grinning at Choso. “You’ve got a mean ass, hot ass best friend you know. Later!” Gojo’s lanky form disappears, leaving you and Choso alone, tense, just staring at each other.

“Great show, Choso.” You say, and he scoffs, glaring now. “What?”

“Gojo, really?”

“Really what? I told him maybe a drink. What’d you tell the pretty blond?” You ask then, and Choso flushes, looking away.

“You told me don’t hold back. Just friends.”

“Yep. So.”

“But Gojo?”

“What about it? What do you care?” You set your drink down then, grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Don’t go! What’s your problem?”

“That I sucked so bad at sex you didn’t want to again.” You whisper, choking up now, and his violet eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open, but you walk away, pressing through the writhing sea of bodies.

“Wait, what!?”

“Great show. I didn’t miss a single one you know.” He stops you then, in front of the building, in the cool night air, which you suck in greedily, turning you to him.

“You didn’t?” He asks softly.

“Not one. How could I? I’m so proud of you. I just hung out at the back of the club so you wouldn’t know.” Choso exhales, closing his eyes now.

“Why do you think I don’t wanna feel your perfect pussy again?” He whispers, making your pussy clench around nothing, you bite your lower lip, drawing his attention to it, he steps closer to you, taking over your senses.

“You didn’t bring it up all week! Even after pics of me in my slutty ass nightie I sent.”

“I thought you slept in that!?”

“No!”

“I didn’t think you wanted to. I was afraid it was too weird. And you didn’t bring it up again, either… I can’t just ask for more, it seems disrespectful!”

“You could have. I would have sent them. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not! Don’t just go home. Please, come over.” He pulls you flush against him now, and your lashes flutter shut.

“Invite the pretty girl over, don’t let me ruin-” Choso slams his lips on yours, and fuck it feels so good, you whine out softly, tip toeing as he bends down, pressing you against the brick wall of the club. His hands grip your waist, as he pulls back, eyes lidded.

“I want you so fucking bad. Can’t get it out of my head.” He says against your lips, you taste his sweet breath, mingling with yours, your hands come to grip his band shirt, feeling the sweat of him, only serving to turn you on more, especially when his thigh presses between yours.

“This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t have.” You say then, as you grind on his leg, crying out softly.

“Fuck…” He moans so quiet, his hands pressing into your waist, burning you through your corset. “No, we should do it again.”

“What!?”

“Yes, to… prove we can just… do that…”

“Oh, yes… maybe… that’s it…” He slides your skirt up, pulling his thigh away, finding you sopping wet over your panties, his eyes flutter shut as you cry out, back arching. “Not here.”

“Not here. Fuck, can you wait till I take you home?” He asks, and you shake your head, especially when his finger sinks into your heat, filling you so good, finger pressing on that spot, making you see stars in the night.

“Please.” You whisper, soaking wet, dripping down his fingers.

“I need you in my bed, not just-”

“Car.”

He blinks then, in shock at your boldness, and maybe you were too, but you can’t stand it, the throbbing need. “In the car?”

“Bathroom.”

“Oh fuck, you’re down to one word sentences, shit.” He looks around, as if thinking of his best options. “What if I get you off in the car then we go back to my place? Will that work?”

“Maybe.” He laughs a bit softly, caressing your jaw.

“I missed kissing you already.”

“Fuck.” You can’t form more than one word, not when he’s rubbing your clit right outside this club, and kissing you again, tongue ring clicking against your teeth, tongue devouring your mouth.

“You’re so wet, I… come on.” He drags you eagerly through the club, women are trying to stop him, but he ignores them completely, dragging you back in the club where you haven’t seen. “There’s a… private room for the band back here.”

He shuts the door to the room with a quiet click, locking it and turning to you then, picking you up like it’s nothing, carrying you to the little couch in the room, kissing your lips again, hungry now. He’s moaning over you, tongues entwining, and you can’t stop your hips from shifting up. He eagerly slides up your skirt, as you struggle to breathe a bit in your top.

“Is it uncomfy?” He asks gently.

“When I lay down, yeah, um… not when I sit up.”

“Oh shit, okay.” He sits you up carefully, turning you so your legs are on the edge of the couch, between your thighs now, and you tug at the pigtails he has on, earning a look of hunger in his violet gaze. “You look so fucking hot tonight.”

“You do. Ah!” He’s kissing up your thighs now, spreading them, and you’re pulling more and more. “Cho, please…”

“Please what, angel?” He whispers, making you jerk when his tongue traces the top of your inner thigh, his breath against your pussy. He shoves your thong to the side, revealing glistening lips, moaning. “Fuck you weren’t even this wet last time.”

“You on that stage did things.” You admit, and he blushes, pulling your hips towards his face, taking your hand and making you hold your panties aside.

“What do you want, use your words. And more than one.” He teases, and you glare now.

“You know…”

“Say it.”

“Make me cum with your tongue, please.” He groans now, then he’s pulling you to him, tongue swiping up your slit, and you have to cover your mouth to stop the scream that comes out.

“This taste…” He whispers, your hand clutches the panties so hard they dig in, when he spreads your pussy lips, sliding his tongue inside. You’re soaking his face at an embarrassing speed, thighs trembling when he flicks it up, looking up at you now.

“Cho… fuck…” You whisper, breasts heaving in the corset as you look down at him. “Take em off.”

He slips them off quickly, tossing your thong on the floor, and burying his face back against you, tongue flicking so fast you can’t take it, slipping two thick fingers in your slick pussy. He stretches you out so good, your head falls back, pulling on his pigtails for more, as his tongue and fingers work you so perfectly. You’re overheated, mind whirling, vision darkening.

Choso’s touches, his kisses, his fingers pumping in and out do you in. You cover your face with both hands, legs shaking violently as your orgasm hits so hard, and you’re gushing down his face, his hand. He drinks you up, the sounds loud and lewd, slurping up every bit that pours, your walls fluttering. You yank him up again now, and drag his lips to yours, tasting yourself on them.

He moans into your mouth as you rub him over his jeans, making him hiss, stopping your hand. “Angel I’m fine just making you cum.”

“Want your cock. Now.” He blinks again, looking at you in surprise. “You felt so good in me, please.”

“Fuck… I don’t have a…”

“I don’t care.” You’ve unzipped him now, letting out his thick length, pumping it with your hand, up and down. “I never haven’t used one, I’m clean.”

“Me too… I always used one… fuck, we’re doing this, oh my god...” He flips you now, to where you’re straddling him on the couch, and starts grinding you against his cock, you’re clutching him as you slide back and forth, head lolling to the side for his kisses. “You feel so good, I wanted to fuck you so bad all week.”

“No…”

“Yes, fuck yes. I swear. Jerked off every night.” You gasp then, when he slides into you, filling you so full, his cock stretching your slick cunt out. You both pause, at the feeling of him without a condom, your breath comes out in little pants, as does his, his eyes rolling back for a moment. “Oh fuck you feel even better, you’re so hot-”

You slam your lips on his now, rolling your hips, and he’s groaning into your lips, bucking his hips up, slamming into your cervix. “I haven’t been on top… I don’t…”

“I’ll use you then, huh baby?” He whispers, mentally fucking you, as you look at him in desire, nodding, as if you know what the fuck he means. “Hold on to me.”

You do as he says, still confused, wrapping your arms around him, then he’s fucking up into you, so hard you cum all over his cock, making him slow, cheeks flushed, lips glossy, pulling at your corset and biting and sucking on your exposed breasts hungrily. He keeps fucking up into you, and you’re gushing down his jeans as he does, feeling the denim brush your sensitive skin.

“Choso… Choso…” You’re crying out, and he’s crying out your name, the squishing of your pussy louder as he fucks harder, his piercing rolling on your walls as his weeping tip knocks your cervix.

“You feel so perfect, fuck you’re pretty, why would… you think I… wouldn’t want you…” He whispers, fucking you so good tears are falling from your eyes, you’re sniffling, trying to grasp at him, to keep you tethered. “Wanna cum in your perfect pussy, fill you up.”

“Choso!” You feel yourself closer and closer, as he’s muttering to himself, to you, grabbing your ass so hard, dragging you down his length, over and over. “Why… would you think… I didn’t…want you!?”

“You’re too p-pretty-”

“Fuck off. Fuck me.” Your head is thrown back now, hair falling down your back as he does just that, biting on your throat now, as you cum again, this time it sends shockwaves, you realize Choso was gentler last time, as he pounds up hard. You pull back and see his pussy drunk eyes, matching your cock drunk ones.

His hand comes to pull your hair at the base, his thrusts slowing, moving his hips just so as you’re pulsing around his cock. “Close… close, you feel too good, you feel so… cum again, f’me please. Please.”

He’s rubbing your clit between you both now, and you shatter over him, his lips try to absorb some of the sound but it’s nearly impossible, you’ve completely lost any sense, just how good Choso Kamo feels inside you, raw. He huffs now, fucking faster and faster, before pulling you up and off him, still on his lap, and you watch the white ropes of cum pouring all over.

He’s moaning so sexy, looking right at you, free hand cupping your face, and your hand joins his, finishing pumping out his cum, making him gasp. “Feel s’good, angel, s’good.” He whispers.

“You felt so good, Choso. M’weak…” You say softly, looking at where your hands are joined, his cum all over both of them now.

“I wanted to cum in you so bad, but that’s… intimate. Huh?” He says softly, searching your eyes, and you nod a bit, looking around and grabbing tissues, cleaning him and you up carefully. He’s struggling to get a breath, as you realize what you’ve done, panicking. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” You pull on your panties now, with shaky hands, pussy aching from him, entire body lit up. You wanna cuddle him, kiss him, sleep with him all damn night, this isn’t normal this-

“Please, I’ll think I did something wrong again.” He whispers, kissing your neck, holding you against him.

“I suck at the um… friends with benefits thing, Is all.”

“Suck, no you’re… amazing. What do you mean? Pussy is perfect.” You turn then, nervously looking up at him.

“Cho, how serious will you get with a girl before you stop fucking me?” He blinks then, shaking his head.

“I… I’m not gonna date someone any time soon, I told you…”

“So if you go on dates, you’ll still…”

“I mean, until it’s a full relationship, yes. What about you?” He asks then, as he adjusts his jeans.

“Of course I agree. So if you go on dates… as long as you don’t…”

“I would never sleep with someone and not tell you, especially if we’re not using anything. I’m not like that anyway.” He says, looking down at you now. “You’re the first like this for me too. I don’t wanna fuck up.”

“I just need to separate it, that's all.” You say, and his mouth opens, but the door knocks, and you head toward it.

“Separate what?” He asks, pausing you at the door.

“Sex from… feelings I guess.” You mumble, feeling mortified. Choso gulps now, cupping your face in his hands. “I won’t sleep with anyone without telling you either, I promise.”

“And will you sleep with anyone? With Gojo?” He asks, the knocks continue, and he sighs. “In a minute!”

“With Gojo? I can’t stand him. I just… said maybe we’d catch up. What about you and-”

“You were in love with him.”

“And!? What do you care, you’re just my friend, right?” He glares, jaw locking, pressing his hand against your pussy, you gasp.

“Friend that just made you cum over and over.” He whispers, so you lean close, so close you can taste him.

“And I made you cum all over, so much cum too.” You whisper back, before stepping away, taking a breath, leaving him visibly shaken, his eyes dilating as he presses against you. “We will be honest, always. If you don’t want to… fuck me… you can just tell me, okay?”

“As if that’ll happen.” He stops you once more, pressing you against the door, kissing you again. You pull back.

“Only around sex, for kissing. Right?” He glares again, you want his kiss, you want all of Choso, you feel you’ve opened some stupid can of worms now.

“Maybe I wanna fuck you again, cum in-”

Knock Knock Knock.

“Choso!” You hear Yuji whining, and you both separate quickly, you try to get yourself together.

“Come to my place tonight.” He says softly, as he goes to open the door. You can’t stand another night in his arms, you’re already too attached, being just too stupid, what were you thinking? Maybe you didn’t think you’d feel all this…

“Maybe we can see each other tomorrow?” He frowns then, nodding, and you kiss his cheek, before darting out, ignoring everything, pussy throbbing, entire body ignited, and your heart, your mind!?

You’re confused. All you know is you can’t stand the thought of your best friend with someone, and that’s against the rules you all just made. You’re going to have to shove it back, going to have to…

But how!? How when he looked at you like that while he fucked you raw.

You take a breath, heading back into the club, to say something, anything, maybe you’re rude, maybe…

Choso’s sitting next to her, that girl, and they’re laughing.

After he was inside you.

You turn away before you make a fool of yourself, it’s just sex, it’s just sex, you’re just friends.

You get into the back of the ride you order, as your screen lights up, but it’s not Cho Bear…

It’s Satoru Gojo.

Tag List: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @teacupwaifu @lana18918 @bigbird789 @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @jazzthatonewriterchick @yung-notorious @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @labelt-san @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @plimplimmeiododoi

Taglist open! Hope I got everyone <3 This is gonna be messy, aha, can't wait to hear your thoughts!!

#choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #satoru gojo #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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multipleoccupancy · 1 day ago

Text

The Inspector nodded to Violet as she greeted him and then gave a short and quiet hum of agreement at her dismissive reply. Taking mental notes of her attitude and deciding he didn't much like it but she was at least holding her own for now and had not done anything outwardly troubling. He turned his attention back to Theo who was still considerably uncomfortable but had put his hand on Mauve's as it rested on his shoulder.

"I work for an organisation who specialise in things like this," he gestured to the monster on the floor, "I and many other agents strive tirelessly and endlessly to keep people safe and on more than several occasions already saved these United States and even the world from this danger and I think that you," he pointed to Theo specifically for now, "might be the sort of person who could help us."

Theo looked over at Mauve, amazement in his eyes as it had been exactly what they had talked about, an official branch helping to save the world from monsters! Their agent idea had already been done and here was a man offering it all to them... or just to him? He looked back to the agent.

"Now I have an offer to make you. You can come with us and we are interested in putting you through school, getting you into the FBI Academy for you to follow that path which you have expressed previously. We'll wipe everything clean, you'll be cleared as innocent and wrongly interned in this ward so that you can walk around free and innocent. Your parents won't have to pay a cent, you will be sponsored through collage and you will work hard to achieve the results necessary to become an FBI agent." The inspector waited for a moment while Theo clearly observed him, he was after all the man who had put him inside in the first place and he was offering him everything he wanted on a plate, just like that. "On the condition that you work for us. You do as we say, you protect our secret from everyone including family and friends, no one can know. You do exactly as you are told and follow every instruction we issue you to the letter."

The Inspector knew that was less appetising as an end point but he leaned forward and looked Theo directly in the eye, ignoring Violet completely for now, she wasn't who he was after. "Or," his voice had dropped to a more threatening tone, "you can stay in here and become nothing more than a drooling mess until the end of your life. Stuck with absolutely no way out. You will stay here, where no one will believe you, where you will one day get one shock therapy session too many." He eyed Theo who gulped loudly, terrified of that thought and squeezing Violet's hand on his shoulder. "This is a one time offer, lad. What's it going to be?"

Theo opened his mouth but it was dry inside, it was as if he had just lost his voice, the man had offered him everything he had ever wanted and now was threatening to force him through his worst nightmare. However, he couldn't leave Mauve. "My friend helped me, Mauve needs to come too." He insisted, "We both deserve to be out of this ward. Please, promise me that she will be freed with me." The Inspector's lip curled and he looked to Violet, one eye brow raised.

"She will have her own deal." He said lowly and then offered his hand out for Theo to shake. "Now or never kid, I am not playing around, that deal has a time limit of seconds. You shake my hand and get out of here today or I get up, walk out and leave you here to rot." Theo's heart raced in his chest, his eyes were wide and his breath was almost frozen in his lungs, stinging him and aching at every bruise, shock, or most recently stab and bite he'd ever had in that ward. He couldn't go through more of it and with Mauve getting her own deal to leave, Theo took the Inspector's hand and shook it.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet quickly fell asleep, but she woke up just as fast, startled by a nightmare. After that, she didn't dare fall back asleep, discreetly observing the orderly as he cleaned up the whole cell. It wasn't too hard to pretend to be asleep, lying down next to Theo. After a while, the cell was perfectly clean (save for the dead monster in the corner), but Violet wished the orderly would have given them clean pajamas too. She was still covered in blood, but it had dried up now, forming an uncomfortable layer over her skin.

With her eyes half-closed, she noticed the two men as they stood outside the room. Violet didn't know who they were, but she assumed they were the Delta Green agents sent to offer Theo his "deal". When the orderly went to wake Theo up, she didn't bother acting as if she was sleeping, simply sitting up on the bed.

Theo's warning confirmed her thoughts: this was a Delta Green agent. But not just any agent. The agent who had framed Theo and sent him to the ward. Her look hardened, and she put a protective hand on Theo's shoulder.

The man sat in front of them, introducing himself. "Hello, inspector," she replied coldly. Violet was unmoved by the agent's praise. She really didn't care if he was impressed! As far as she was concerned, he was a wicked man. But she knew she couldn't make a scene, and risk Theo's deal in the process. She had to grit her teeth and swallow all the things she really wanted to say.

"It ain't our first rodeo," she replied dismissively, hinting at Theo's first monster encounter, and her own "encounter", which was in her file.

#hvbris #killian #violet #asoue au #got long sorry XD

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kuroosamuu · 2 days ago

Text

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi imagine #jjk imagines

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impactrueno · 11 hours ago

Note

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #lydia deetz #beetleposting #beetlebabes #<- added for those who would prefer to not see this stuff but i didn't intend this to be a shippy post #spoilers: it's very one sided. but it IS all from his POV so you can kinda expect him to be...him #if you're a shipper who's just checking the tag then uhhh hi! i feel like i'm intruding lmao

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g1rld1ary · 3 days ago

Text

our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

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