#so any of you who pay attention to my tags probably know that I am BAD at reading comments on my fics

[espithewarlock]

ignore me I'm in a mood™

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 8

it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily

Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.

The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 

Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 

The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 

But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 

Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 

I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 

How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?

A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.

Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 

“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”

People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 

“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 

“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 

“No.”

“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”

Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 

Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 

Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 

Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 

But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 

Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 

Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 

“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 

“Um… Spencer?”

“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”

He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”

The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 

“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 

When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 

You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”

“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”

You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”

Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 

“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”

You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 

He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 

Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 

“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 

“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?

“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”

Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 

“I forgot. I thought… he said…”

A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 

“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”

And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 

“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”

“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”

His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 

“You didn’t see my note?”

The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 

“You left a note?”

Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 

It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 

A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 

“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 

Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 

He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”

You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 

“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”

Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 

“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”

“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 

He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 

Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 

There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 

Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 

And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 

“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”

Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.

Now he remembers. 

Long night, huh? I remember those days. 

It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 

Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 

“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 

You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”

If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”

He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 

“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”

You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 

“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 

You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 

“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 

The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.

“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 

You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 

“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”

Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 

“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”

“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”

Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 

“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”

“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”

“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”

Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 

“Like… one at a time? Or…”

He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.

“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 

There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 

“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”

“Spencer—”

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”

“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”

For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 

But that’s not the topic at hand. 

“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”

You swallow. 

“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

About what?

He says your name. No response. 

“Can you look at me, please?”

It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 

“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 

Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”

Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”

You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 

“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”

“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”

He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”

Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?

A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 

“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”

Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 

He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 

“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 

“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”

So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 

You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 

Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 

He can’t not worry. 

And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 

-

part nine

[anomaly-hivemind]

We’ll meet again || Double penetration in one hole and public w/ Bill cipher x fem reader

Word Count: 1993

Masterlist

Tag: Double penetration in one hole, vaginal sex, Exhibitionism, public, Overstimulation, dubcon

Note: The reader is slightly black-coded. Nickname is Dimples or honey lips

You got a full time job at this mystery shack in the middle of the forest. You had been working there for maybe a total of three months with little to no issues, until it became the start of the summer. Then came two young kids and all the oddities that seem to have started when they got there. Staying with their Grunkle which was also your boss, you got to know everyone well.

“Hey Y/N do you mind watching over the shack for me for a few hours, I’m taking Mable and Dipper out for a bit” Stan said while already basically out the door so you just nod. It was a long slow hour of nothingness, maybe an old lady or two but nothing interesting to make you pay attention to anything.

“So one save me from this boredom,” You groan and rub your forehead. You could only play with pens and paper clips for so long. You heard a ring and turned to face the door, but there wasn’t anyone around as far as you could tell.

“I’ve only seen you around recently how fun” A voice behind you makes you turn to it with wide eyes and you lean against the register. A guy who didn't really seem all there was standing behind the counter with you. ‘Where did this bum come from, how the fuck did he get behind you in th first place.’ You thought with a panic as you looked at the unnatural yellow glow in his eyes and felt like he was peering into your soul nonconsensually might you add.

“Sir you can’t be behind the counter” You try to keep a kind voice in hope to not upset the potential crackhead that had wandered into the mystery slack.

“BuUt I came to answer your pleas of boredom dimples. definitely not to find something of importance. ” He spoke dramatically before mumbling something under his breath.

“My what now.. Sir please just set back into being in front of the counter.” Instead of doing what you asked, he took a step closer and unfortunately for you that ass of yours was not moving any closer to the register than you already were.

He moved his arms on both sides of you and smiled an uncanny smile that made you shiver. Next thing you know you are moving onto the counter to escape his attempt to trap you. Like hell were you gonna get murdered by some random probably drunk stranger for drug money. You liked it here but not enough to get yourself killed and mutilated for it.

“That tremble of yours is pretty cute Honey lips, filling my head with all kinds of things.” you make a run to the door but before you could open it the yellow eyed guy stood in front of the door blocking the fastest exit out.

The room felt cold and shaped all of sudden and you felt like you were a deer in headlights. You couldn't move anything but move your head which is what tipped you off that this was no normal paralysis.

“What the hell did you do to me!” You yelled at him in a concerned voice. The guy uses your stuck body to lean against your shoulder.

“You have a pleasing meatsuit Dimples.” he whispered in your ear.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?!” your voice got shaky as you tried to keep the confidence you definitely didn’t have right now.

“Name’s Bill! But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!” The guy’s body drops to the ground in front of you and out comes a bright yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat pops up in his place floating around. “Oh so i’m tripping balls right now, inhaling the wrong type of air that's what going on right now.”

“I am very real despite what that simple brain of yours thinks.” he rolls his eye at you as he flies around you in a close circle.

“You are nuts.” you shake your head, who would have thought that your mundane need to cure your boredom would lead to… well whatever this was right now.

“Well it's not my fault your corrupt mind brought my attention, so what was it you wanted Dimples.” you don't answer so he speaks again.

“Entertainment was it, well honey lips consider me willing to entertain…But in exchange you gotta entertain me.”

“How would i do that” you felt dumb even entertaining this Dorito thing.

“How ‘bout I reverse the functions of every hole on your face.” his eyes smiled or so that's what you think his face was doin at least.

“How about no.”

“No fun boo, mhm how about something we both can enjoy” He had his hand in front of his face where his chin would have had if he wasn’t, well if he wasn’t a triangle.

“Like what?”

“You'll just have to take the chance and Trust me.” There was a slight giggled that came from his lip face. his hand lit up in a blue fire and you realized you could move again.

“But why are you doing this?” you tried to ask but he only gives you a cryptic answer.

“Boredom is my worst enemy, so I'm here to save you,” he said loudly.

You were definitely going to regret this lapse in judgment you were about to have. You raised your hand and shook the demon's hand with great hesitation. ‘Was I fucking stupid, i gotta be brain dead to shake the hand of a demon who gave me vague information of his probably dangerous arrangement i agreed to already. Sign my life way I guess.’

He snapped his fingers and your clothes were gone, you let out a shrill as you covered the important bits the best you could.

“No amount of gold on earth can buy originality…but you're come close enough.” Move your arms away.

You felt very exposed, you were naked in your work space in front of this triangle being of unknown origins. You were in the middle of the room and anybody could come inside the place, hell Stan and the kids could come back at any time then next thing you know it you’re a register offender. You could only hope that what this chip shaped man demon thing had in planned for you wouldn’t last that long.

In a flash Bill grows a body and keeps his triangle head that has changed into a pyramid. He was also equally as naked as you are, Plus he looked Hot to add to it. You look him up and down but your eyes get stuck on a thing well two things actually. Two dark cocks that were long and thick at his base, erect and twitching. You were staring at them and you were drooling a bit. It was embarrassing.

“This form pique your interest?” He stroked himself slowly as if he was giving a show for you. You don’t catch yourself nodding to his question and before you know it he is up against you, dick touching you everytime he curves it in a stroke. He moved you closer to the counter, your bare ass touching the desk.

“Let's get started, Honey lips.” he rubbed the tips over your fold and let out a funny happy sounding noise.

“So wet already~ who would have thought you could be so needy and wanting.” he pushed one of his veiny cocks into you, all the way to in until kissed it on your cervix. You let out a loud squeal like moan as you arched your back. There was no way you were going to cum, not from him just sliding into you…right.

“Feel free to cum at any time, I'm super giving Dimples.” he started to move his hips, your pussy regards no shame as it makes wet squelches as he tickles your g-spot. Your hole sucking in him it's making you feel like a slut.

“Fuckin… Ah~” you feel your legs start to shake from his mean pace inside of you. Bill starts to push his other cockhead and you clench around them. You cum around them as soon as he pushes the other one all the way inside as well. Stretching you out like never before, it felt like you were touching stars.

You have no time to recover from his movement because he doesn't stop, letting out a groan and mumbling to himself about how snug your pussy felt around him. Your ears burn as he teases you for cumming so fast and mentioning how he was just getting started with you. He starts to push almost all the way out before ramming back into out then repeating. Your eyes start to water as you reach another climax right after the other.

“You are mighty easy to please Honey lips.” he groaned and pushed you over on the counter, you were now laying back on the cold desk in a daze as he held your legs up at his waist. Your walls flutter around the girth of the two dicks of his inside of you.

“I can’t take it!” you whine as you feel an orgasm number who knows you're not keeping track start to approach you.

“Limits only exist in the mind.” Bill rolled his hips at an odd angle that it was almost like his dicks were moving at different times. He gives a squeeze to your breast and you shiver.

He kept moving his hips in this devious way that was starting to make you spasm and moan. Bill moved his hand down your body and he started to play and tease your clit, the whole action makes you choke out a cry as you feel a pool of wet hit yours and his thighs. ‘Did I just?!’

“YOU DID?” He answers your thoughts with an overly happy tone that was embarrassing. He kept thrusting his hips into you and circling your clit and you impulse your legs shut. You didn't think you could cum anymore but this DEMON has proved that to not be true in the slightless.

“Can you try not to lose consciousness, it won't make me stop.” He spoke through breathy groans. Bill’s words make you clench around you again, you could see the specks of darkness forming in your vision but you try to shake them off.

He slammed his hips into you at a breathtaking pace, his was slower and harder and it literally took your breath out of your lungs with each thrust. You could feel him twitching in you, a dead give away that he was close to coming. His pace brought you back to another painful yet pleasuring orgasm, his hand went back to your clit to run a slow tight pattern on you.

His hips sputter and he comes in heavy thick ropes of cum, filling you up like a pie. Pools of his seed dripped out of you when he pulled out of you a bit too fast for comfort. You let out a quick whine.

“Your a fun time Dimples, really know how to keep up with me.” he changed back to his triangle form. You try to get up but the sudden movements make your ears ring and thighs send you any single they can. You look up at Dorito demon as he watches you struggle a bit.

“We’ll meet again, Honey lips.” his eye curls as his way of a smile, then he poofed out of nowhere.

Now you need to get some clothes before anyone sees you like this…And to wipe the cameras.

[szkunas]

KNOCK KNOCK, GUESS WHO! ౨ৎㅤsuguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤwhen things in your life go well for a long time, there will undeniably be a problem knocking on your door. this time, the issue is your ex-boyfriend, wanted by the jujutsu society — who is very angry with you, even after he stole your money. || PART ONE (previous)

featuring ♱ㅤsuguru geto (jjk0 / 2017 version) x FEM reader.

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤporn with very little plot ! toxic behavior ! suguru (GENOCIDAL man) ! unprotected sex (wrap it up) + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! reader and gojo are not in a relationship, but mutually interested in each other ! coercion / dub-con (both consent but just to be safe) ! genocide / death mentions (geto) ! stalking and breaking in ! bondage + choking ! spanking ! edging ! obsessed suguru agenda ! delusional suguru (you will see) ! seduction !

honorary mentions (inspirations, please read) ♱ㅤthis ask, by anon! all credits to them, i was not planning a part two, haha. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy it.

author’s note ♱ㅤso, today i was sitting down and thinking “im going to finish that yuta draft and probably start the sukuna draft for the event, since he’s winning the poll”. guess which of these two things I did? exactly. none. so, here is more suguru geto for you. i apologize in advance — i am not good at writing seduction. this is a bit rushed lol. repost because i can't see my post in tags

THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER than discovering that the person you love most is hiding a dark secret. it could be a lover, a second family, a dark past or a real, rotting present. that’s the feeling you get: everything is rotten. the walls around you and the space are shaped into a molten mist that rots as time passes, as you read the letter that someone slipped under your door.

the highly wanted criminal, suguru geto, was seen in your apartment two weeks ago, as shown in the photos below. we ask for your full and complete cooperation in the investigation, and soon some sorcerers will need to interrogate you. expect their visit at any time and answer the door when the time comes.ㅤ— the higher-ups from jujutsu society.

oh, hell. no. this cannot be happening.

as the procedure says, you burn the letter and get rid of the ashes.

although your situation is absolutely desperate, the secrecy of jujutsu comes before your disastrous love life. you turn to look for your cell phone, and the delay hurts your bones.

it seems like the object disappears when you need it most. when you find the damn phone, you don’t even hesitate. as you type the number that, at this point, your head knows by heart, your hands shake. this cannot be true. they are lying, they are trying to deceive me and defame suguru. but why? why would society need to do this?

of course, mentally, you suppress yourself. and a rational part of your brain — the part that isn’t driven by the love you feel for a man who’s been with you a long time — slowly realizes that this is the truth.

that’s why the disappearances in the middle of the night, the slight disregard for non-sorcerers touching you or him. the preference for privacy and not allowing you to post photos of the two of you together. he doesn’t have social media, he said. it feels very public. what a lie, he was actually a wanted criminal and cult leader.

no one answers the call, and you press the button once again. and again. and again. by the sixth time, you’re not sure if your hands are shaking with fear, disgust, or hate.

your money. your savings, built up after you left the witch life behind. a small guarantee of your future, a future you planned to have with suguru. a future stolen and lost, by the same man who once stole her heart. beautiful black hair and purple eyes really make a girl forget to pay attention to the red flags.

you leave voicemail after voicemail, until the box is full. then, messages. text after text while your fingertips digit furiously. it didn’t take long for you to realize that a response from him would be even worse, so your last messages were simple, direct. do not talk to me anymore. don’t ever appear in front of me again. and don’t you dare involve me in your affairs, you bastard.

pressing the send button through tears was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life. and so, blocking the number seemed like the most sensible solution. it’s not like he would respond, even if you gave the number to the investigators — your exact intention.

so everything went as it should. 39 missed calls, 104 unanswered messages that changed her perspective of him forever, along with a letter that turned to ash, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. your life took a new direction, an unpredictable metamorphosis that made you move to another address after the entire legal process on your part was concluded. you didn’t know, and you had no involvement, as hard as it was to believe. and then the sorcerers left you alone, and this was your second new start to normal life.

lonely and with a betrayed heart, in a new apartment far from your ex. unloading the last box does not bring the relief of releasing a chain, but the pain. the pain of losing something. as if the chain had tied itself to one of your ribs and ripped it away, taking a part of you.

but the tears dry. time passes. the pain diminishes, and the space that takes it in the heart is hatred. you become your priority again, and in time, you rise again only to fall again. one last effort, a call to a certain sorcerer you once knew, satoru gojo. this was his noah’s ark, his last hope before resorting to more desperate methods.

he answered. and since then, a lot has changed.

it’s been almost ten months since suguru stole your money and trampled on your love and dignity. almost ten months in which you had your heart broken, and you slowly put the pieces back together. now, your latest relationship — it’s not really a relationship.

six weeks ago, you and satoru had sex in your apartment for the first time. since then, he has been very helpful in all aspects of your life and visits you regularly. he takes you on dates and even carried you when his feet got sore from walking. it sounds crazy, feeling so comfortable with someone after just six weeks, but that’s what happens.

gojo is more than an arrogant boy who uses humor in every situation he sees, he has a heart, and a very generous one at that. despite his insistence, the credit card that was entrusted to you is rarely used (and you managed to convince him to change the password, too). his intention was to ask for help, not to become a parasite that will take as much from him as he can. not when he’s a much better person than you expected. a kind of clumsy white knight, in a cute and a bit of a loser way at the same time.

so, of course, the dates have become routine now. cinemas, walks in the park, roller skating, going for ice cream. these experiences stand out in your memories, as sweet as scenes from clichéd romance films. kisses in the rain, desperate hands pushing you into the apartment — maybe this time, you might be able to tease him a little, make him lose it and have you right there, in a dark corner? the idea is exciting, dangerous, and so stupid it makes your heart flutter.

he still owes you a new bed, though. you keep fucking on your couch because you two broke your single bed the last time you did it.

checking yourself in the mirror before a date is, naturally, what everyone does. the red dress that adorns her body is a little short, the kind of thing you see on a seductive movie character. but satoru asked for this tiny — as tiny as the dress, in his words — favor and promised anything you wanted later if you wore that and hung on his arm all night. even when he’s being a pervert, he’s just a guy who’s whipped for you.

the idea makes you take a step back. satoru can’t be in love with you. yeah, okay. he does cute things often. he takes you on dates almost every week. he’s always trying to make you laugh and has already learned most of your quirks, likes and dislikes. he remembers you throughout the day, at random intervals, and buys you things so casually that you had to beg him to stop and not max out his card bill — he just laughed and said it was all cheap anyway. heirs…

but he can’t be in love. it’s all new, recent. perfect, but maybe it’s just hidden by the love fog at the beginning of a relationship. it has already blinded you to bad signals once, and you internally wonder if you are using gojo.

of course, part of you has already thought about it. having sex with your ex’s best friend and solve your financial problems. two birds, one stone. but satoru is everything suguru is not — true. intense and real, without a mask of sweet truth that covered a rotten truth.

honestly, you don’t want to think about it too much right now. this is a conversation that should be between you and satoru, not between you and your intrusive, insecure thoughts. he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to know that you’re just as interested as he is — not on the money, but on him.

a text message makes you smile right after spraying a sweet perfume on your neck. the screen lights up with that contact that has now become your favorite.

toru <3; ㅤ already in the dress? photos or else ill die (seriously)

a small laugh escapes your throat, and you immediately prepare to take a photo. stepping back a little and posing in front of the mirror, you could swear you heard something near your apartment door while simultaneously hearing the soft click of your cell phone.

one pose to show the front, and one for the back, with a soft, evil smile. satoru isn’t your boyfriend, but with his attitude, he could very well be. he looks at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and as if he wanted you forever. it’s beautiful. it’s such a beautiful emotion to see in those blue eyes that you can’t wait for the next time you look.

after texting back, asking what time the movie starts, your eyebrows come together in a frown. omnisity takes over the environment quickly, and you swear your heart stops beating.

this energy— it cannot be.

“hi princess. missed me?”

the whisper in your ear is so sudden that you immediately turn your face to look. a hand grabs your chin and forces your head to turn back to the mirror, and you gasp, immediately struggling.

suguru geto, on the flesh, the greatest traitor to have walked the earth since judas. traitor to the jujutsu society, criminal and mass murderer, and of course — your ex-boyfriend. right behind you, and forcing you to stare at the mirror as his free hand snatches your phone away.

you hit him with your elbow, but he barely moves. humming, as if he is amused. as if you are some game. geto’s hips press forward against yours, and he efficiently traps you between the sink and him.

this cannot be happening.

what suguru doesn’t find amusing, though, is your text messages with satoru. long or short, little flirtations or obvious nudes, these messages are simply something that makes him turn his nose up in disgust. how dare him. how dare satoru take the one thing suguru truly loved that way?

“get off me.” you murmur, your eyes widening. like any sorcerer, you know the basics of defending yourself, but panic runs through your veins like poison. your muscles feel like solid stone, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching when his hand stops cupping your cheek to grab you by the throat.

he’s a criminal who definitely must have had his share of fights. you are a sorceress who has not been in the field for almost ten years. in a real fight? he could drown you in that sink and satoru would only find out hours later.

satoru. the thought makes you immediately ramble.

“don’t you dare lay a hand on me. satoru will—” he squeezes your neck softly, a silent message for you to keep your mouth shut. suguru sighs, annoyed he needs to explain it to you, word by word. he really, really likes you, but he’s not in the mood after all these games.

this small action — squeezing your neck gently — makes you remember old times. old times, not good days. because, although they were good, the memory was effectively corrupted when he left you, almost a year ago.

“satoru will not do a thing. he doesn’t know i’m here, and he won’t know.” a break. “yet.”

your eyebrows shoot up, before your face contorts into confusion. what does he mean, yet? if anyone knows he’s here, he will be executed. why would he risk it, just to see you? is he here to kill you?

the thought brings visible panics into your eyes — the wonderful, pretty eyes you have. the window to your soul. your soul and body, which suguru would like to possess again.

again, what a ridiculous term. he never stopped owning it, in the first place.

maybe if you buy time, satoru will come see what’s taking so long. he will help. you��ll be safe.

but the date is only thirty minutes, and for satoru to come in person, you would have to wait another forty. one hour and ten minutes with your genocidal ex-boyfriend. wow. this must be some kind of twisted lottery of fate, where winning makes you unlucky.

you force your voice to remain calm, composed. he does not deserve the satisfaction of your fear.

“why are you here?”

“oh, look at her.” he mocks, as if you’re not even just there, listening. “asking why i’m here as if she has no idea.”

“i don’t.” you grit your teeth. “this is why people ask, imbecile. they want answers— ugh.” he squeezes your neck again, making you grow quiet until he relaxes.

“darling.” suguru smiles softly, but some veins are popping up on his hand. he is absolutely pissed, using that sweet voice to smooth you. “you know why i’m here. don’t play dumb. you— let satoru touch you.”

his tone is still soft, affectionate as the boyfriend you once called yours. but beneath the sweetness, there is an anger, a possession. like an animal whose territory has been pierced.

“did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he leans in, his hot breath making shivers run down your spine violently. “you underestimate me, my love. i’m a bit offended. coming from you, i expected so much more.”

his hand snakes all over your body, and close as he is, you’re sure he can hear your erratic heartbeat. thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump.

like the engine of a machine, accelerated to its limits. if your organs are your gears, you believe you are malfunctioning right now. a poorly functioning machine due to information overload.

it’s a lot to handle. his hands are warm as they gently pull your dress up, groaning. “i barely had to move it away. what, you enjoy dressing like a slut for satoru?”

it seems like your voice only works normally, as it should, when you feel your panties being pulled down, gasping. “suguru, no! you can’t!”

“oh, i can’t? why? c’mon, darling, just the tip.” he throws your phone away — the sound the device makes when it breaks against the wall is blood-curdling. he wraps both his arms around your waist, pressing his hips to yours. “pretty please?”

you grit your teeth. why the hell is this attractive? perhaps it’s because you barely heard geto beg before. but, no. you can’t. satoru, your satoru, he’s waiting for you — instead, you have your freak ex humping slowly against you. no way, is he wearing buddhist attire? like a monk or something. but these thoughts don’t matter. his words take you out of your head.

“i saw everything that day, you know. and a little before, and after that. getting all cozy with satoru, because i’m not here? you offend me, sweetheart. i’m a bit hurt.”

“oh, i’m not hearing this.” you curl your hands into fists, slamming them on his arms. “not after you lied about who you are, stole my damn money, and left! fuck you, geto! fuck. you.”

he smirks against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. you groaned, and he quickly decided to hit two birds with one stone.

tugging at the clothing strip that holds his robes together, he rips it off and uses it to tie your hands together as you squirm. he gives it a little tug, confirming it’s not too tight, and throws his clothings to the other side of the room.

“i know i haven’t been here.” he pauses, and you can watch him through the mirror as he forces you a bit down. “and i’m sorry. i wanted to tell you, i did. but i couldn’t. i know what you would think, and— i couldn’t lose you.”

it’s like a sincere admission, but you’re not foolish enough to feel sorry. not for him, definitely. throwing salt at the wound is your strategy right now.

“you lost me anyway. y’know, satoru really has a way with backshots that—” your words are cut off by a gasp, when he rips your panties off you and holds you down by the back of your neck. your back does a pretty arch for him like that, but suguru is not nearly amused enough.

“don’t be a brat. i made mistakes, but you, too. whoring yourself for my best friend? are you kidding me, love?”

“i’m not your love, don’t call me that.” he grabs you by the hair, tugging your head back up to look at his eyes through his reflection.

a pause, and suguru decided against what he was going to originally say, softening his grip on you.

“i missed you. i did. can’t i show it to you? just a little, baby, please?” he presses his hips into yours a bit more gently, and you can feel it.

his rock-hard erection, rubbing softly against your warm pussy. it makes you shiver and hum against your will. a part of you misses it. nothing wrong with satoru — he’s a great learner for an inexperienced guy — but geto knows just how to blow your back and be soft at the same time. an art satoru hasn’t mastered yet.

the idea of doing this to that white haired man who is so good to you — it brings tears to your face. how dare you want to say yes? but also, how could you say no when suguru’s head is rubbing deliciously against your entrance?

you close your eyes in defeat, not able to look at yourself.

“be quick. and don’t ever ask me anything again. you get this— and you disappear from my sight. forever.”

a deal with the devil. sacrifice something and gain something. your body for peace.

he chuckles, throwing his head back with a smirk. “oh, you and i both know that’s not happening, sweetheart. i’ll be here, forever.” he slips his hands down your waist, grabbing it gently and pushing his cock in.

the feeling is— exquisite. geto could try all he wanted, search in all the world, but he never could find someone like you. your body is almost poisonous — intoxicating is the right word. he just bottomed out and he’s already mixing his thoughts. that’s the effect you have on him.

suguru’s hips start moving at a restless pace, not giving you time to breathe or a warning. he can’t waste time with words, not now. not after being pulled away from you, his beloved, for ten torturous months. just when he was planning to come back and convince you to join his cult — or just grab you and lock you up, whatever —, he found you riding his best friend. sinking down satoru’s cock and making him cream all inside you.

the idea makes him huff, thrusting harder.

and you, under him? with your wrists tied up? well, you’re a mess. you’ll have to try bondage with satoru later, it’ll surely make his cock explode. your eyes widen, and you babble something — what’s wrong with your head? why are you thinking about satoru, then, suguru, then satoru again?

oh, lord above, maybe both at the same time? it’s a fantasy that makes you blush more than what you’re doing right now.

suguru guides your head up again, holding your neck gently.

“what are you thinking about, love? you keep—” he grunts. “clenching down on me.”

“nothing,” you stammer out. okay, there is something seriously wrong with you for enjoying this so much. a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “nngh— satoru!”

his eyes widen at the same time as yours. if your hands weren’t tied up, you would have brought one up to your mouth. the squeezing on your neck is firm, enough to not cut air circulation, but present. surely. the whisper of your name echoes through the bathroom.

“what did you just say?”

he looms over you, blushed cheeks and vulnerable expressions changing all the time, staring at your dumb little face in the mirror. suguru has a soft frown on his face, his eyes wide in horror, and his lips are slightly parted. but there’s a dark shadow oozing off him, a rage that cannot be contained.

he’s hurt. he’s mad.

you try to justify it quickly, to do damage control. “suguru! i said— i said suguru!”

but it’s a little too late for that, and lies only make it worse. he pins you down harder, his hips moving back at a ruthless pace this time. harder, faster — no mercy or trace of the sweet man who used to make love with you as if you were made of glass.

now, he fucks you as if he hates you, he hates your guts.

your moans and whines are muffled by the obscene sounds escaping where your hips meet. plap plap plap, mixed with a softly, slightly wet whisper of some sort. suguru lets go of your waist and brings his hand up.

you gasp when it hits the back of your thigh in a loud smack!

he forces you to look up, breathless as he murmurs.

“start counting.” he groans, harshly. and he smacks you again, right on the ass. he’s hitting so hard that you believe his intention is leaving a red mark — a present for satoru to look at later. and you’re right. his friend knows no boundaries and keeps taking what is his. what choice does he has, unless to mark you up?

smack.

you shiver, trying to squirm away and kick before he pins you down again.

“behave, brat. now start counting.”

smack.

“one—” you moan when his heat hits your sweet spot, huffing. smack. “two.”

“good girl.” smack. smack. smack. “how many is that, princess, mm? ohh, that’s the good pussy i missed so much. so— tight.”

“ngh! three! four! f—five?”

“is that a question, or are you answering me, my love?”

he chuckles meanly, thrusting into you again. you both grunt — near the edge already.

“suguru.” you throw your head back, whimpering. “i’m— i’m gonna—”

“ohh, you’re going to cum? that fast, honey? satoru hasn’t been good enough to you, i see.” he thrusts harder, laughing meanly at the way your eyes widen and tear up. “aww, he can’t treat you like you want. he fucks you like a good girl, i bet. but you want to be fucked like a slut.”

he leans down, peppering your neck with kisses and hearing your deep breaths. “it’s okay. i’m close, too. you have this effect on me, my love.” he grunts again, grabbing your hips. “throw that ass back on me, baby, yeah? yeah, juuuust like that.”

he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up as he presses his lips to yours in a upside down kiss. it would be romantic if it weren’t so possessive, visceral, crude. carnal. desperate.

when your lips part, he grunts and sighs softly, while you’re moaning loudly. nearly at the same time, your orgasms hit you both with everything.

suguru’s thrusts become messy, sloppy, and his skin feels a bit sticky against yours as he fucks himself using your pussy, pushing in ropes of cum to paint your insides.

you let your head fall forward when it’s your turn, squirming and whimpering softly. his forehead would have hit the sink if he weren’t holding you up. some more seconds, to dry out both of your highs. slowly, gently, he pulls out of you, watching the fat drops oozing out of your used hole.

suguru smirks as he undoes your restraints, kissing the back of your neck tenderly and adjusting your dress.

“don’t forget who has you first, mkay? i left a little gift for you and satoru here.” he sighs, sounding a bit sad. “i’ll have to go again, i’m sorry. but i’ll be back soon. don’t miss me too much. just leave your window unlocked, and i’ll be here again.” he grabs your face to turn it again, brushing his lips against yours. “unlocking them is a chore.”

geto leans back, and you shiver, confused. the sound of clothes being adjusted and thrown back into a body makes you turn your head moments after you heard it, still a bit too slow.

and he is gone. as you fix yourself up on your feet, you shiver as the realization hits you hard as a stone. no, no. satoru. no.

you stumble to the corner of the bathroom, picking up your phone. the screen is broken, but a call icon appears. you accept immediately, nearly sobbing.

“hey, senpai,” the nickname is soft coming from his lips. a small joke, playing with an honorific that he does not use with figures he should use. “you’re— a bit late. did something came up, or?”

“satoru.” you sob, and even through the screen, you can feel him tense up. his voice becomes more serious.

“what happened? are you okay? where are you? i’m on my way.” the scraping of a chair can be heard in the background of the call.

“i’m— my apartment. i have something to tell you. we need to talk, seriously, we—”

you shiver, and for some reason, you can picture your ex perfectly — walking proudly, with his nose up, the wind making his black hair flow behind him and cruel, purple eyes accompanied by a soft smirk.

“i made a mistake.”

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES.ㅤthank you for reading! <3

[dhoranbolt]

Devilish

a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.

Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk

Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙

Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk

Word count: 5.7k

She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.

He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?

He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.

She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.

“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.

She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?

It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.

–

Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.

She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–

“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.

Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–

“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.

“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.

“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.

“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.

“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”

“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”

“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.

“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.

“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.

“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.

“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”

“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.

“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.

“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.

“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.

“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.

“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?

“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.

–

She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.

Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.

‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.

The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.

What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”

He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.

‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.

So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.

The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.

“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.

“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.

“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It’s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.

“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”

“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.

“And what about you, then?”

“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.

“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.

“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”

“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.

“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.

“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.

So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.

“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.

“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.

“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”

“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.

“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”

“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.

“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.

“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.

“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”

“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.

“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.

“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”

“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”

“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.

“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.

“You’re joking-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.

“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.

She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.

“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.

“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”

“Sukuna-”

“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?

“What are they?”

“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.

“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.

“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.

“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.

“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.

“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.

“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.

“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.

“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.

“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.

“That’s a common one.”

“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.

“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”

“What is that like code for something?”

“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”

“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.

“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.

“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”

“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.

“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.

“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”

“Like what?”

“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”

“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.

“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.

“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,

“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.

“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?

She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.

His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.

“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.

“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”

“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.

He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.

He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.

“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.

“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.

“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.

“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.

“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.

“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.

Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.

“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.

"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.

“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,

He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.

He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.

"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.

Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.

Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.

He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.

"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.

"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.

"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.

Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.

"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.

"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own. 

"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.

"You're so-"

"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.

"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.

"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.

And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.

"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.

"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.

"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.

Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.

“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.

“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.

“Oh she liked that, did she?”

“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.

“Where should I-”

“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”

“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.

“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.

It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.

“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.

“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”

“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.

“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair

[tainsan]

misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

taglist: @lilactangerine @sookacc @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon (if you asked to be tagged and don't see your name, I am incredibly sorry but you cannot be tagged.)

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.

word count: 6.2k

“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.

“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?” 

Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer. 

“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”

You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.

“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.

“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”

“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.” 

“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.

“Touché Lee.” 

Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.

“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”

“Why would that alarm me?” 

Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs. 

“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.

“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no. 

You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.  

“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk. 

“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.

“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him. 

‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.

“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand. 

“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life? 

“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.

“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.” 

You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.

“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.

“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face. 

“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.

“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed. 

“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.” 

“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male. 

“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise. 

“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.

“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”

“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.” 

His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?

“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.

“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”

“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be. 

“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.

“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.” 

Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.

“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?” 

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching.  Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.

Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.

“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions. 

“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.

What the fuck?

----

Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.

‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’

Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji. 

‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’

Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning. 

Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.

----

Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?

Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.

“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.

“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.

“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.

“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.

“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man. 

“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.

“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.

“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”

You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs. 

“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.

“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer. 

“No drink?” he asks one more time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.

“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.

“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”

“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.

Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.” 

“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,” 

Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.” 

“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.  

“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.

Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.

“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself. 

“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.

“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.

“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.

“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill. 

“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?” 

Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.

“So do you want to see around?” 

“I’d love to.”

They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet. 

“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.

“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.

“How about you show your room too then?”

Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.

“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.

“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape. 

“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.

“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”

You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.

“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes. 

Peering around the room, turning in a circle

“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”

Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.

“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.

You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer. 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

[babymetaldoll]

"Spencer Reid, inked" (Spencer Reid x tattoo artist!reader!)

Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.

Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Summary: Spencer gets his first tattoo

Word count: 1.978

Warnings: None

I hated feeling like a cliché. But I was, at least at the moment. That’s what everybody would say if they knew I was going through a middle-age crisis. There was no other way to call it. I was well aware of the symptoms. I was already forty, single, reconsidering my job options and looking for a new career after almost twenty years working for the FBI. 

And the worst symptoms of them all: I was about to get my first tattoo. 

Yes, me. Spencer Walter Reid, germaphobe. 

It hadn’t been an easy decision. God, it hadn’t been an easy year. Everything seemed so useless and pointless at a certain moment like I had wasted so much time overthinking, overanalyzing, over… everything. And I had forgotten one simple thing: living. 

So now at forty years old, I want to start living. And one thing I always imagined I would do but never really thought I could do was get a tattoo. 

Garcia recommended a shop in town. She is the only one who knows I’m planning to do this because a part of me is very embarrassed to share my crisis with my friends. I know they wouldn’t make fun of me, but it’s not something I wanna bring up in any conversation, except for Pen. She is one of my closest friends and I know she would never judge me, or make fun of my insecurities. Actually, when I told her my plans, she even asked if I wanted her to tag along and support me. 

- “Thank you, Garcia. But I think this is something I wanna do alone.” 

- “I get it, boy genius. Just know that I will be a phone call away in case you need me.” 

The tattoo shop she recommended isn’t very busy when I walk in, and a little belle announces my arrival. 

- “Hey! Do you have an appointment?”- a guy asks from the desk and I hesitantly walk over. I’m starting to second-guess this whole plan. Me? Getting a tattoo? Really? 

- “Hi, yes. I talked with (Y/N) on the phone.”

- “(Y/N)!”- the guy yells- “Your eleven am is here!” 

- “I’ll be right there!”

Garcia said this girl is the best tattoo artist she knows and that she is very soft and gentle, which is exactly what I think I need if I’m getting my first tattoo. Right, I don’t even know what I wanna get. I think I should have thought about that before booking this appointment. Maybe I’m gonna waste this woman’s time today and she will do a bad tattoo as revenge. I should probably just leave. 

- “Hey! Spencer, right?”- I hear my name and turn around. But no words come out of my lips ‘cos I was sure I was leaving a second ago, but now… now I should really start talking. 

- “Yes, I’m Spencer. Hi!”- I wave awkwardly as she stares at me with a big smile.

- “Nice to meet you, can I get you anything? Coffee? water?”

- “Thank you, I’m good.”- she walks over to a couch and invites me to sit with her. Garcia didn’t mention the tattoo artist she recommended me was so beautiful and I’m feeling more nervous now than I was when I first got here. And I was considerably nervous a few minutes ago already. 

- “Tell me, why is it that you decided to get a tattoo?”- she looks at me, waiting for an answer, and all I can give her is the truth.   

- “I never considered getting a tattoo until a few days ago. You could call it a middle-aged crisis.”- I chuckle and she smiles at me, which somehow helps me feel calmer.

- “I don’t think I ever considered it before, but now somehow, it just makes sense.” 

- “I don’t consider any crisis a bad thing. Each one is like a reality check that we should pay attention to. I think it’s a way life has to keep us on track of what we should be doing instead of what we think we should do. Does that make any sense?”

I nod and smile at her reply ‘cos it’s a beautiful way to look at a crisis. When you are uncomfortable, you should pay attention and make the changes you need to make. Maybe a tattoo won’t change my life, but it feels like a way to become the man I want to be instead of who I thought I should be. 

- “And do you have an idea of what you want to be your first tattoo? 

- “Uh. Not really”- I look at my hands, embarrassed to deal with my honest truth. But she just chuckles and continues asking.  

- “Not a single idea? There must be something revolving in that mind.”- I raise my eyes and meet hers, and I know I’m blushing, which is embarrassing.- “What do you like?” 

- “I like books”- my nerdy answer makes her eyes shine. Maybe she likes reading as well.  

- “A favorite one?”

- “War and Peace”

- “A Tolstoi fan, I think I can work on that. Sounds good?”- I nod, smiling.  

- “Yeah. Definitely.” 

- “Great! So give me a few minutes to draw a few options. Where do you want your tattoo?”

- “I was thinking in my forearm.”

- “Great choice! That area is low on nerve endings and bone, so it'll be less painful than other areas with thinner skin.”- she looks so excited to share that info I don’t wanna tell her I already knew it, and that is the reason I chose that placement. 

- “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to drink while you wait?”- (Y/N) stands up and looks at me expectantly. 

- “I’m good, thank you.” 

- “Ok, wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.” 

- “Ok Spencer. Ready?”- I’m sitting on (Y/N) chair. My arm rests on a clean sterile bench covered in plastic. She took the time to clean everything in front of me, probably to assure me everything was taken care of before a needle was in sight. 

- “Ready.”- I reply and take a deep breath, trying not to move. But most of all, trying not to shake. 

- “I’m gonna make a short line first, so you can feel how the pain is, ok?”- I just nod and she smiles one more time. - “Stay still.”

My eyes are glued to her hands as she carefully traces a small line on my arm and as soon as she is done, she looks at me, expectantly.

- “How did that feel?”

- “It was good”- I answer and look at the line, now drawn forever on my skin.

- “Not as painful as you imagined?”

- “Not painful at all”

- “Great! Let's continue then.”

I find the process of getting a tattoo relaxing, somehow. Here I am, unable to move for a very long time, forced to talk with a stranger. A beautiful stranger that is, in fact, the nicest woman I’ve met. And though none of that could ever be relaxing to me, she is so good at small talk, she is making me talk the entire time, not overthinking anything. 

- “So, you’ve been with the FBI for over fifteen years?”

- “Basically my entire life.”

- “Did you always envision yourself being a Fed?”

I don’t know if I wanna answer that. Mostly, I don’t know how to deal with that subject at the moment. So I clear my cough and she gets it right away. 

- “We don’t have to talk about that. You could tell me what is it about War and Peace that gets you so much.” 

- “I don’t know. Honestly, I haven’t read a book I didn’t like. Never.”

- “And I have the feeling you read a lot.”

She never looks at me, her eyes are always on my arm as she draws on my skin. But I look at her, analyzing her features and the way her eyebrows are constantly frowning in concentration. 

- “Why?”

- “‘Cause books were the first thing that came to your mind when I asked you what you like.”- she answers and chuckles.- “You have no idea what people answer to that question.” 

- “Surprise me. What’s the weirdest answer you’ve gotten?”- she smiles as she gives the question a little thinking. 

- “I don’t wanna judge! I mean, we all have different lives and tastes and picks… and we have been touched by different things in life… However, it’s always weird when people tell me their favorite thing in the whole world is Homer Simpson.”

I try not to burst out laughing, but it’s nearly impossible. (Y/N) takes the needle just in time before I start roaring with laughter.  

Honestly, I don’t remember when was the last time I laughed that hard. It’s refreshing. Relaxing. Encouraging. I don’t know if it’s the whole tattoo experience or (Y/N)’s company, but I can’t recall feeling this alive and happy in a very long time. 

It’s disappointing when she tells me she is done. She applies a gel on my freshly tattooed skin and invites me to check it in the mirror. And I don’t know how something like this can actually happen, but that’s the moment it actually hits me. I got a tattoo. It’s there, forever in my front arm. 

Spencer Reid inked. 

- “Alright, Dr. Reid.”- she says as she finishes placing a plastic patch on my tattoo.- “Keep this covered for the next 12 hours, then you take it out and wash it with baby soap and apply this cream every eight hours or when it starts to itch.”

I take the box and smile at her as she looks at my arm for one last time before looking directly into my eyes. It makes my heart skip a beat immediately, and I don’t know  

- “Thank you so much.”- I manage to reply.  

- “Not a problem. Technically, it’s my job, though you made it extra nice today, so thank you.”

I don’t know what to answer to that, so I just chuckle and blush. She stares at me in silence as well, but it’s not awkward, it’s… tense? But in a nice way. In a very unknown way as well. I am not familiar with this kind of situation. Or, at least, I don’t think I’m good at dealing with them.  

- “So… Considering this is your first tattoo, and that I am a very professional tattoo artist, I’m gonna give you my number, so in case of any random question or doubt, you can reach me.”- the way her lips turn into a cute and sweet smile at the end of her little speech hints she is not just saying it to be nice. And I like it. 

- “That’s very thoughtful. I appreciate it.”- I offer her my phone and she writes her number on it.- “I’m gonna ring you, so you can save mine.”

- “That’s great.”- and she is beaming. 

- “Can I call you even if I don’t have questions about my tattoo?” 

- “Sure, I can help with music rants if you ever need to talk about that, somehow I’ve also collected a lot of info about nineties trash TV and cult documentaries.”- I chuckle at the selection of subjects and nod. 

- “Why cults?”

- “I’m not sure, I guess you never know when you might need a new asset at work… that doesn't make any sense.”

- “No, but I’ll take it. It’s not the weirdest answer related to cults I’ve gotten.” 

- “Do I wanna know?” 

- “Maybe over coffee?”

- “Pick me up at seven?”- I nod and she smiles one more.- “Good. I’ll see you later then.”

As I walk out of the tattoo shop I feel like a cliché again. I’m in my midlife crisis, I got my first tattoo, and somehow, I feel like a brand new person. I think I like myself a little more after doing this. I don’t think I’ll regret getting this ink done.

[minus-plus-zer0]

University Days With Bakugou - Ch. 1 - "And They Were Roommates"

| Masterlist | University Days With Bakugou Masterlist | | Next (TBD) | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: University AU, Quirkless AU, aged up, situationship

Bakugou would rather die than live in a frat house. He wasn’t like Kirishima, he couldn’t stand the constant partying, sleeping around, and other nonsense that idiots around his age got involved with. That wasn’t how he was going to start off his precious university career.

So instead, Bakugou shopped around online for housing options, but no roommates really caught his eye. Nobody he found could meet his impossible standards. Not one person, until he saw you.

Immediately, he knew that this was gonna be a rough time.

Bakugou stood in your soon-to-be-shared small house, while you gave him a short tour around the place. He couldn’t pay attention to the tour. You were just so cute like he’d never seen before. And you were so affectionate and sweet and NOSY that he found it difficult to ignore you, especially when you constantly asked him about his housework routine or how his day went or whatever. It was like he was playing 20 Questions given how often you grilled him for small talk and cleaning plans.

Near the end of the short tour, you stopped by the entrance area and you leaned on one hip. “You’re really quiet, you know that?”

“Huh?” Bakugou wished he had a more clever comeback than that.

“Hello? Earth to Bakugou?” You waved your hand in front of his face and he winced. “Have you been spacing out for the past 10-20 minutes? 

Yes. 

“No. I got everything ya said.”

“Really?” You leaned against a wall. “So what did I say?”

Bakugou sighed. “Clean up after yourself, keep quiet after dark, trash is taken out on Sundays, don’t bring over hookups, alert each other in case of emergencies of suspicious activity–”

“So you really did get it!” You beamed at him.

“Of course I got it! Where did you think my mind was?!” 

Bakugou glared at you, but he didn’t really want an answer to his question, because the correct answer was, “You were thinking about me, right?”

“Maybe you were too busy thinking about me?” you asked, with a small smile. 

Bakugou froze. It’s like you could read minds. 

“Just kidding!” you said. “Who knows what goes on in that fluffy head of yours.”

His face turned pink. “Fluffy?! What–”

“Anyways…” You cut him off as you walked past him. “If you don’t have any other questions, I actually think the tour is over.” You stopped to lean on a couch in the living room. “But you can hang out a little bit if you want. You seem like good company, for such a hothead.”

“‘Hothead’,” Bakugou said, with a discerning frown. “I’m definitely NOT hotheaded. But… are ya sure you don’t mind me hanging around?”

“For a little longer, sure!” you said. “That’s how long my landlord would allow. If we’re gonna be living together, why don’t we get to know each other?” 

Bakugou gulped. Being totally inexperienced with romance, he had no idea how to possibly woo you over. Bakugou was a consummate professional at driving people away, and he prided himself on that. He could only impress you through his sheer skills alone.

“You’re telling me you don’t know who I am?” Bakugou asked, moving to lean on the couch beside you. “I’m fucking famous around my high school.”

“If you’re soooo famous why haven’t I heard of you?” You jutted out your chin at the boy. 

“I’m the fucking star of every sports game!” Bakugou snarled. He felt like he was screwing up every social interaction with you so far, and he sighed. “You gotta come to one of my games when we start playing again. That’s where I show people what I’m really made of.” 

“That sounds fun! You want me to be your little cheerleader?”

Bakugou really liked that idea. He could offer you a cheerleader uniform in your size, if you really wanted. But you were probably joking from your playful grin, and he wouldn’t push an idea like that without knowing for sure.

“Only if you’re willing,” he said, with a slight grin of his own. “But I won’t force ya. Still, you gotta come. You gotta.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll come! Wow, this seems so important to you. It’s so cute!” 

Cute? What did that mean? 

“Don’t call me cute.” Bakugou sneered at you from above. “Where do you get off complimenting random strangers like that? You’re the one that’s cute.”

“What?!” Your flustered reaction made it all worth calling you ‘cute’ to your face. “Bakugou, you’re so forward!”

“You just did the same to me.”

Your adorable eyes dangerously narrowed into slits. “You can try and pin the blame on me all you want, but it won’t work. Didn’t know my roommate would be such a Casanova…”

“It’s fucking true though!”

Bakugou couldn’t tell if he was winning or losing this conversation. All he knew was that his initial impression of you was totally correct: this was gonna be a rough time. 

But when Bakugou got home, he still contacted your landlord and immediately signed the lease.

(Not sure how long this series is gonna be but I've got at least 10 chapters in drafts at varying states of completion. I thought it'd be perfect to release this series now while I'm still a uni student. Look forward to it!)

[cheapshrimpysheep]

CONGRATS FOR YOUR MILESTONE!!! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!! And you're one out of the only 5 twst/om writing blogs I have notifs on for, your writing and blog aesthetic makes me so happy!!!

For a request, could you write Kalim sparring with a reader who's a good fighter? It's my personal hc that Kalim can throw a punch of two due to Jamil drilling various self defense techniques into his head. But the whole sparring thing is very lighthearted and fun, since Kalim is not really interested in fighting anyone (especially the person he has a crush on, wink wink 👀) and his fighting partner is not interested in hurting him either. Everything just turns into them being silly and getting into a tickle fight instead or something.

If it's not something in your comfort zone, that's okay! I still wanted to drop by and congratulate you for your hard work. Requests or no requests, writing is content that deserves to be praised and celebrated to thank you! Sorry for the long ask erifidnwyrkd ~ray

COMMENTS: THANK YOU! 💖 I'm always so happy when people tell me they like what I write that much. That's why I love writing this. This is where I feel most appreciated. 🥰

In fact, I am a coward. 😅 So I'm not very familiar with knowing how to fight. But still, I hope I got around it well. As you can see from the number of words, I ended up having fun writing it. I hope you and all have fun reading it too. 😉

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.150 words

CONTEXT: Jamil and Kalim used to train from time to time. One way for Jamil to guarantee that, in an emergency, where he wasn't present, Kalim would have any chance of defending himself and escaping or something like that.

But that day, due to some complication at the basketball club, Jamil couldn't train with Kalim. However, he remembers that he already saw you defending yourself against some NRC students, and thinks you might be a good replacement. And maybe, in a way, it would be an interesting idea to have Kalim fight against you, knowing that he has a crush on you.

So, he calls you and asks you for this favor, and assured you that he would somehow repay you.

You arrive in Scarabia, without Grim. He knew that in Scarabia they liked to have banquets from time to time and he loves to eat. But Jamil wasn't there to cook a feast and probably most of the food he would get is the food that Kalim likes to shove down his throat. So he decided he would be better off with just tuna in Ramshackle.

You've just walked through the front door when...

“HIIIIIIII!” Kalim greets you, while running towards you. He has the cutest smile on his face. “How was your day? Do you want to eat anything? Jamil left some really good things in the fridge.”

You tell him that you already ate some time ago, so you would be ready to train with him as soon as you arrived in Scarabia.

“Train? Train what? AH! Is there a test I forgot?!”

You say no and ask if Jamil hadn't told you what he had told you.

“Oh! That. Ha ha HA HA! Sorry, I guess I got so excited when he told me you were coming that I forgot to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Hum... Don't tell him that, pleeease.”

You promise you won't say anything and he thanks you with an appreciative smile. You remember that Jamil had said that he had left some papers with instructions for training somewhere. When you ask Kalim about this, he doesn't know where they are, but he can guess by knowing Jamil. Or maybe Jamil only knew where to put them because he knew Kalim would forget.

You see the papers and as you would expect, they are all self-defense techniques, where you would be Kalim's aggressor. Techniques for him to defend himself from punches, knives, being grabbed by the arm, neck, etc. You didn't like the idea of even pretending to attack Kalim, but it was the instructions and it was for his own good. Right?

“Can I see the papers?” Kalim asks you when he sees the slight discomfort in your expression. You hand him the papers, he takes a look at them and smiles. “Ah, the same as always. Don't worry, this seems to be just a review. Jamil does this a lot since he says I'm very forgetful. It's okay. Nothing very difficult. You just have to pretend to attack me.” But your discomfort doesn't leave your face. “Hum? What's wrong? You're not feeling well?”

You tell him that you don't want to hurt him and that you don't really like the idea of attacking him, even if it's just pretending.

“I don't want to hurt you either. Not even Jamil, despite what he tells me to do. But we don't need to do this training like the ones I do with Jamil, right? I really hope not, otherwise I'm going to lose all the rounds.” He says with a slightly embarrassed smile. You ask why. “Because like I said, I don't want to hurt you, so I think I'll end up letting you win every time. Ha ha. AH! That's it! Why don't we play fight? Some of my siblings like to do it. We don't need to take this so seriously, we can just have fun. Right? What do you think?”

You think about it and agree. And both of you also agree that it's okay as long as Jamil doesn't get upset. Or finds out.

The "training" started normally. But it was when he got to the part of training to defend himself from knives that Kalim had an idea. He went to get one of those thick markers, took off the cap and said: “You know paintball right? The goal is not to get hit by the paint. Why don't we try to do something like that?” He hands you the marker. He removes his coat and other accessories from his torso until only his white shirt remains. “You're going to try to paint me and I have to dodge it. It'll be fun, you'll see.” he says with a big amused smile.

You ask if he doesn't think Jamil will be upset with him for ruining his shirt.

“Maybe, but don't worry, I can buy lots more where this one came from. Ha ha ha.”

He was right, that was fun. You forgot that you were training self-defence and looked more like a couple playing. At one point, Kalim managed to grab your wrist and steal your marker. And he looked at you with that rare mischievous smile of his. “My turn!”

You seemed surprised. What does he mean his turn? Weren't you the attacker? But then he looks at you and straightens up.

“Oh. You should take off your coat first. I'll get a better see if I catch you with the marker on your white shirt.” You hesitate. You don't have many shirts like that. “If I ruin the shirt I can buy you a new one, or two, or as many as you want. No problem!... Pleeease? I'm having so much fun with you!” He's making puppy eyes.

You agree and take off your coat and accessories. You continue that "training" until there comes a time when both of you have kind of given up on defending yourselves and are already covered in paint streaks on your shirts, arms and even your face. You realize you dropped the marker and can't find it.

“You lose your weapon?” Kalim says “Well, it looks like there's now only one way to find out who wins.” And he attacks you with tickles. “Surrender!”

You try to resist, but end up really surrendering. Kalim was too good at tickling. And as soon as you know it, the two of you were on the floor, practically hugging each other. He smiles affectionately at you.

“I wish you were in Scarabia. We could have fun like this every day. I could see you and be with you every day for much longer.”

Your noses were almost touching when Jamil appears and drops his training bag to make a noise that would get both of your attention. He looked bothered. “WHAT?! Why are you two-? OH, for the patience of the great seven.” he sighs.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 8

5,994 Words

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter as an apology for taking so long but also bc it was originally supposed to be two chapters and I just couldn’t find a good split point😭, and I did change the story title bc I got bored with Stray Pack but this is the same story and plot, and I’m sorry but my taglist is at its limit (which I didn’t even know existed?) so if I didn’t tag you on this post, it will be on the reblog!

Also, Happy Birthday to the love of my life who isn’t in this chapter nearly enough, but will be in the next chapter. Bang Chan, you have brought me a light and inspiration that I haven’t felt in a very long time and even if you have no idea who I am, you will always be the one for me🖤

Also

Nobody:

Me with the foreshadowing in this chap:

Let’s get started!

TW: references to sex, mentions of spanking (not necessarily sexual but could be interpreted that way)

…

You all settled down so that they could get through recording. Felix was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, just as a small precaution in order to prevent any more growling. On your other side was Jisung and Seungmin sat on Hyunjin’s other side, providing extra padding against alphas. Chan and Changbin were both at the sound table and Minho was currently being recorded, so you didn’t have to worry much about them getting too close anyway, at least, not at this exact moment. Jeongin himself was settled at Felix’s feet like a trusty guard dog.

You, Chan, and Felix had all taken off your scent blockers as well, which helped to calm Innie down.

Minho was the last one recording, so everyone was a bit subdued. Changbin had paced around a bit while being sure to keep enough space between him and Jeongin. When the youngest alpha had recorded, everyone in the room held their collective breath, but he seemed to be doing fine.

Next to you, Jisung had leaned down so he was laying down on the couch with his feet splayed out in front of him, body posture indicating that he was zoning out, but one look at his eyes told you that he was paying rapt attention to what was happening in the recording box and at the table.

On your other side, Felix leaned his head against you and pulled out his phone instead of watching the older boys.

He pulled up Twitter and started scrolling through. You wanted to give him some privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. It’s not like he’s actively turning his phone away, you told yourself.

Once the word ‘caretaker’ caught your eye, you gave up the pretense and shifted even closer. The movement caused Felix to notice and he tilted his phone so you could see it more easily. “They’re sort of all over the place with the caretaker news.” He told you, deep voice soft as he tried to not interrupt the others. “Some people are really supportive of it but of course there are some people who think that either caretakers are sasaengs who manipulated the system so that you could be close to us, or that you’re going to steal our attention away from our fans.”

“Both of those statements are true, also, did I forget to mention I’m a spy from Dispatch meant to expose your secrets?”

Felix giggled and you let your eyes scan over the comments.

Maybe if y’all stanned TXT this wouldn’t have happened🤷‍♀️

tell this random weirdo to stay away from my lixie!!!!!!!

YALL IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS THE CARETAKER IS THE ONE IN FELIX’S BUBBLE POST

Reading over the last one, you bumped your shoulder lightly against Felix. “What exactly did your bubble post say?”

He frowned. “It just said ‘lunch with a new friend’ with a yellow heart emoji. It’s kind of impressive that they did actually connect the dots.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Well, at least people probably won’t recognize me out on the street just from my hand.”

Felix smiled and went back to scrolling, giggling at a semi-professional debate about what Lee Know would give up for the rest of his life between pudding or butt hunting.

Said pudding lover and butt hunter then finished recording, striding out of the recording box as Chan spun his chair to face the rest of the room. Changbin rolled his own chair across the floor until it stopped in front of Minho, who grabbed it and spun it so he could sit in Changbin’s lap. Changbin squeaked in surprise but didn’t make any signs of protest when Minho brought the younger’s arms to wrap around his waist.

“Alright,” Chan began, “I think it’s pretty much a free day from here on. I know Jisung has a vocal lesson and Hyune wants to talk to Y/N, but other than that, I’ll be in the studio and Minho is going to be going over choreography so if anyone wants to join either of us, feel free.”

“But not too free, I need a break from you degenerates sometimes.” Minho retorted from where his head lay against Changbin’s shoulder.

You missed what Chan said in response as you leaned across the back of the couch behind Felix to consult Hyunjin. “You wanted to talk to me?”

His wide eyes met yours then quickly moved to Felix’s hair as Hyunjin started twirling it nervously between his fingers. “Yeah. Chan-hyung said we should talk about my h-heat. Especially since it comes so quick after Felix’s that we might not have enough time between our heats to properly talk.”

You could hear the other members join Chan and Minho’s discussion, but your focus remained on Hyunjin. “That’s a good idea,” you murmured, “But you don’t want Chan or another member to sit in with us?”

He shook his head, glancing back at you and biting his lip. You didn’t want to push him when he was so clearly nervous so you nodded and turned back to the others.

Right next to you, Jisung was declaring that “this group is not a democracy, hyung”.

“Sungie, you are the one person in this room that has a strict schedule today.”

“Don’t you start with me, Kim Seungmin-”

“Okay, okay!” Chan raised his hands. “I think that’s enough. So, Han will go to his lesson, Jinnie and Y/N will talk, Seungmin and Felix will come to the studio with me, and Bin and Iyen will go with Lino to the dance studio. Wait.” He paused and turned to you. “Is it okay to have Innie with the two members he’ll be aggressive towards?”

You considered it for a moment. “I think it should be fine. It might actually be better, hypothetically, since Innie won’t have to deal with either of them getting too close to Felix, so I think he’ll actually be less aggressive.”

“If my aegi-alpha gets too aggressive, I’ll just give him a good spanking.”

Chan turned to Minho and stared at him, narrowing his eyes while his knuckles turned white from his grip on his chair arms.

Instead of retracting his statement or apologizing for it, Minho simply basked in the attention, leaning back against Changbin and crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

You glanced at Jeongin to see his reaction, but he was a bit preoccupied with Felix’s fingers running through his hair. Innie’s eyes were shut as he leaned his head back in between Felix’s knees.

You felt like you were intruding on a special moment, so you looked up and your gaze met Chan’s. He had a soft smile as he glanced from you to the two boys.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance and cleared his throat. “So, everyone know where they’re going?”

“Wait, hyung!” Jisung’s hand shot up in the air like he was a student eager to be called on. “I know you told us that we can be comfortable around Y/N-noona, but exactly how comfortable is that? Like, is it the same level as we are with our managers, or our makeup noonas or what?”

Chan smiled at him and swiveled his chair to face him more directly. “Since Y/N’s job actually involves a little more… familiarity with our group, especially when it comes to our emotional and physical health, I figured that we could be a little more open with her. She knows about our relationship and everything. The company did ridiculously thorough background checks and she’s signed several NDAs, so we can be as honest with her as we want.”

Han scooted forwards until he was barely on the couch and gestured with his hand for Chan to come closer. When Chan rolled his chair over, Jisung leaned to whisper in his ear. Whatever he said caused Chan to giggle. “Yes, we can kiss in front of her.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked twice. “Well, in that case…” He grabbed Chan’s collar, pulled him close, and planted an obnoxious, cartoon-level, lip-smacking kiss right on the alpha’s lips.

Chan sputtered and his ears burned as he pulled away. “I meant- why did- you didn’t have to kiss me now!”

“Nope.” Jisung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand theatrically. “But I enjoyed it.”

…

Once everyone had reapplied their scent blockers and straightened themselves up, you followed Hyunjin out of the recording room.

Instead of going to the small meeting room like you did with Chan and Felix, Hyunjin led you in the opposite direction you had come from.

He fidgeted with his hands as he walked you rode down the elevator. First, they fiddled with his jacket buttons, then his rings, then tapped against his thighs.

It was obvious he was nervous, but you didn’t want to make him even more so by pointing it out.

The two of you made your way into a room and you realized that it was the same small dance studio you had met Hyunjin in.

He stopped in the middle of the room and frowned at the wooden crates you had all sat on last time. “I guess we could move them so we sit across from each other, that seems the most professional,” he murmured while rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your mind blanked for a second before you refocused. “Well, this doesn’t have to be super professional. No one is grading you,” you joked. “Here, we can even chill on the floor if you want.” You brought some cushions from a stack in the corner of the room and brought them to the middle of the crates.

Hyunjin smiled at you and adjusted one of the cushions before sitting down on it.

You placed your own cushion on the ground across from him and pulled one of the crates over so you could use it as a back rest.

You sank down and Hyunjin smiled at you politely. “Where should we start, noona?”

You pulled your bag over and pulled out the file on him and his bandmates. Handing it over, you told him, “What Felix and I started with was going over the information the company gave me so that you know what I know and you can tell me if there’s anything wrong or anything big that the company doesn’t know or didn’t share with me. I don’t want to be overly nosy or creepy or anything, but as a caretaker, it’s important that I know things that relate to both your physical and mental health. Also, client confidentiality applies in my job, so I couldn’t tell your company anything even if I wanted to, unless it involves you hurting yourself or others.”

Hyunjin blinked at you wide-eyed, the file bending slightly in his tight grip. Then, his eyes narrowed and his lips pouted slightly.

You felt your own fists clenching around the straps of your bag at the sight, but you collected yourself when he started to speak.

“I thought you were hired by the company. Doesn’t that make them your client?”

Your smile widened at him. “What a smart question!” At this, you could see the corners of his mouth flicker up. “The company is my employer, but they hired me to be a caretaker for you, not for the company. If I had to be a caretaker for everyone in this entire company, I would scream.” You raised your eyebrows playfully. “Could you imagine if I went up to JYP and asked him to tell me about his sex life?” You shuddered theatrically.

Hyunjin let out a startled exhale which quickly morphed into full-on cackling. He threw his head back and clapped, leaning backwards and almost falling over which only caused him to laugh harder. You giggled along with him, relieved that the slight tension was dissolving.

Once you two managed to mostly calm down, he looked at you with his hand hovering in front of his mouth. “Oh my god. “‘“Oh my god”’”. Eugh!” He scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, which just set off another round of laughter for both of you.

You took some deep breaths and noticed Hyunjin doing the same. You both smiled at each other and he ducked his head as he went to pick up the file he had dropped when he started clapping.

He flipped through it and got to the page with his information. As his eyes scanned the page, his smile slowly faded.

“Not particularly possessive of my nests? The only reason I’m not possessive is because they’re my pack! My m- my band! They’re always welcome in my nests! I may not be as protective as Felix but it’s not like I would let just anyone in!”

Noticing his distress, but most notably, the lack of a distressed scent, you realized that you both still had your scent blockers on. You took yours off and allowed your calming scent to sweep the room. It wouldn’t be as potent to Hyunjin while he had his own scent blockers on, but you hoped he could sense it nonetheless.

You didn’t want to touch him without his consent, so you gently pushed the file down, away from where it covered his face, gaining his attention and making it easier for him to see you.

You smiled at him. “Hey, Hyunjin. You want to take a deep breath for me?”

He blinked at you twice before nodding and inhaling. He held it for a second before his cheeks puffed out as he exhaled.

“Good job! Now, I know that you’re probably upset since the company is making these assumptions about you based on limited information. I would be, too. But, since you aren’t exactly inviting your managers into your nests, does it really matter what they think about you?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he considered it. After a minute, he shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t matter. And the ones whose opinions you do care about know that you keep the nest open to them because you trust them and love them. I promise you, they don’t think any lesser of you because of the way you keep your nests.”

Hyunjin’s tense eyes softened around the edges. “I guess… that makes sense.”

Your voice took on a more teasing tone. “Do you not believe me? I could call Chan right now, and I’m certain that he would march on down from his studio just to tell you how wonderful your nests are. And I’m certain that your other packmates would be right behind him.”

Hyunjin smiled shyly as he traced a shape on the ground that vaguely resembled a heart. “Yeah, they would.”

You tapped on the file still in his other hand. “Now that that’s settled, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Hyunjin put the file down on the floor and rested his hands on top of it, like he was trying to press it into the ground. He turned his head to look at the wall of mirrors next to you and you could see him swallow. His eyes flickered back to meet yours and you could see the pure vulnerability in them. “Since you’ve been so upfront and honest with all of us, I figure I should return the favor. I… In Korea, male omegas- or, just, omegas in general, I guess, are sort of taught to hide their heats? Or, not hide them exactly, but it’s not something you really talk about? Not even with other omegas. We’re pretty much taught that heats are signs of weakness or that they’re gross to talk about, so you sort of pretend that they don’t exist, even when we would get a week off of school or work.”

He paused to look down at his hands and you waited while he took a second.

“When Felix first came over, obviously there were a lot of cultural differences between Australia and Korea. He would casually mention how he was nervous about spending his heats here. Channie-hyung and Minho-hyung helped him the most, not just because they’re the oldest, but because Chan could sympathize with the change in culture and Minho… had a lot of omegan friends back in Gimpo when he was growing up. Even when Felix got used to spending his heats here, he still never really stopped talking about them. Of course he didn’t say anything when we went out in public or anything like that, but he never tried to hide it around us.” Hyunjin’s mouth curled up at the corners. “There was this one time when we were in the dressing room and he was complaining about his pre-heat cramps loud enough for all of the staff to hear. Changbinnie-hyung’s face was so red,” he snickered.

Suddenly, his face sobered up. “I really wish I had been there for him more. As the other omega in our pack, it should have been me, but at that moment, I just felt… all I felt was shame. Shame for him, for letting other people know that he had heats, shame for me, for being the other omega and being afraid that people would think that I would talk about my heat in the same way, shame for the poor staff members who had to listen to that,” Hyunjin took a deep breath. “But then, one of the coordi-noonas came up and recommended a good painkiller brand, and one of our managers told Felix that they could buy some ice cream on the way home, and I… I was so amazed. Talking about anything related to heats was supposed to be this horrible, embarrassing thing, but instead, Felix just got sympathy and support.”

Hyunjin looked back up at you and stared deep into your eyes. “I know that I don’t like to talk about my heats, even after seeing that and being with Felix all this time, but I know that you’re here to help me and my pack, so I’m going to do my best to not be ashamed anymore.”

You took Hyunjin’s hands in yours. “Thank you so much for telling me. I really-”

You were suddenly interrupted by his stomach doing its best impression of a whale song. His eyes widened before he hid his face in his hands. “Talk about embarrassing and shameful. I guess we forgot to eat lunch.”

You cackled and stroked his shoulder in what you hoped was a soothing way. “Well,” you giggled, “should we get some now? I’m pretty hungry, too, now that you mention it.”

Hyunjin’s hands slid from his face as he looked back up at you. “Hmm. I’m kind of craving something sweet.” He turned until he was lying on the floor with his face turned towards the ceiling.

As you scooted over to lay down beside him, he sat up and stared at you with his eyes lit up. “I have a genius idea! Have you tried any good Korean snacks since you moved here, noona?”

You thought back to everything that happened since you got off the plane. “Uh… not really? There were some chips or something in the hotel room but I didn’t want to spend the company money on ridiculous stuff like that.”

Hyunjin waved his hand dismissively. “Even if you did eat them, it wouldn’t really count. Expensive places always overcharge for mediocre things.” He set his hand back on the floor and turned back to you. “Do you know what this means?”

“That I need to order more of my own snacks from home before I run out?”

“No!” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of mirth in them. “Well, yes, noona, you should definitely do that. And order some for us to try. But we should raid the vending machine and have a taste testing! I even stole Binnie-hyung’s credit card this morning, so we can use that!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm for both having a taste testing and using his member’s money to pay for it. “I’m up for it if you are, but if Changbin finds out, I’m pinning everything on you. He’ll probably go easy on you, anyway.”

Hyunjin shrugged, his expression somewhere between fond and smug. “Yeah, he’ll definitely go easy on me. Especially when I tell him our pretty noona coerced me into it. He’ll understand. How am I supposed to say no to that? Anyway, we could also get some snacks to drop off at the dance studio after we’re done with our taste test, I’m sure that Changbin-hyung and Innie would be glad for a snack break.”

“I- okay.” You stuttered, trying not to fixate on the phrase “our pretty noona”. “Let’s do a taste testing. Lead the way to the vending machines.”

After reapplying your scent blocker, you both made your way down two flights of stairs and down a long hallway before you came to the vending machine. Hyunjin explained that there was one closer to the room you were in, but that this one had better snacks.

You stopped in front of the vending machine, a little surprised at how high tech it looked. You were more used to ones with sticky buttons that refused to take your dollars more often than not and that you would occasionally have to shake to free your snack. This one had a whole mini snack elevator.

“Let’s see, Innie likes these cheesy crackers, Changbin-hyung will cry if he finds out we used his credit card and didn’t get him anything, so let’s get him the barbecue chips, and this is Lino-hyung’s favorite pudding…”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you watched Hyunjin mutter to himself about his bandmates’ snack preferences. “You’re so considerate of your packmates,” you told him.

He blinked at you in surprise, like he had forgotten you were standing there with him. “Ah, well, it’s really more of a survival tactic. I have had one too many pudding lectures from hyung, so if I show up with the wrong one, who knows what he’ll do to me?”

Back in the studio, you spread your bounty around the two of you, like you were preparing for hibernation. The three snacks for the boys in the other dance studio were carefully set off to the side, so that neither of you would mistakenly eat them.

“So,” you started, “I know the nest thing sort of threw you off, but is there anything else you think I should know before your heat? It can be anything, things you like to avoid, your favorite things to nest with, things you like to eat,” you asked, shaking the bag of chips you were currently eating from. They were a bit different than what you were used to, but still pretty good.

Hyunjin hummed around a ring-shaped gummy. “Well, I like to do laundry before my heats and then get my members to scent my stuff. I just feel a bit icky when I’m not sure when the last time I washed something was. Felix likes to bake during his preheat, which is sort of perfect because I eat more than usual during my preheat, so I can just eat whatever he made and put in the fridge. But I don’t like eating during my actual heat. As for the stuff in my nest… I have this scarf that Seungminnie bought for me once when we visited Paris. And Lino-hyung gave me a scrunchie that he drew a bunch of Jureumis on that I like to wear on my wrist. Also, Jisungie got me a dumpling plushie that also has a hot water bag inside. I have some other things from the members, too, but those are the first things that come to mind. Most of the other stuff is pillows and blankets. Felix likes fluffier blankets in his nest, but I like the smoother, silkier ones. And I love having my members in my nests with me. Also, I have at least three fans going on at the same time because I hate how hot I get. I do react a bit… dramatically when my members accidentally move something in my nest, which sort of confuses me a bit because that really only happens during my heats.”

You quickly brought out your notebook and pen and scribbled down all the information Hyunjin had given you. As you wrote semi-legibly, you did your best to talk to him at the same time.

“Well, that’s definitely a heat-brain thing. Do you only feel anger or annoyance at your pack when they move your nest around or is it something else, too?”

Hyunjin stopped chewing and set down the bag of candy. “I guess… it does hurt a bit. At first. And then I growl or nip them or something like that.” He shrugged dismissively.

“And that hurt, could it be that your anger is sort of a way to get around it or cover it up?”

He looked up to meet your gaze and squeezed the plastic package so it crinkled. “That… it could definitely be that, I suppose. I think… my brain is sort of telling me that my packmates are changing my nest because they don’t like the way I arranged it.”

You nodded and set down your notebook. “Well, I know that no matter what I say, during your heat, your omega is still likely going to react like that because you don’t have the same level of brain processing power as you do when you aren’t in heat, but maybe, hopefully, you’ll feel less guilty about it afterwards. Hyunjin, you know that your members love your nests. They don’t want to move it or change it, and from what they’ve told me, they always try to move carefully so that they don’t offend you. They also understand that you’re protective of your nests and that you react, as you put it, dramatically. They know that that can be a risk to stepping into your nest, but I am sure that it’s worth it to them. Even if they get nipped or growled at, they made the choice to enter your nest and they obviously think that it was worth it if they come back again and again.”

Hyunjin watched you with wide eyes before his face broke out into a soft smile. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Plus, Lino-hyung bites the others enough that they should be able to deal with me if I bite them once or twice during my heat, even if I bite them a bit harder than he does.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and leaned backwards until he was lying down. “I can’t believe I’m in a relationship with those losers.”

You smiled at him, glad that he could go from serious topics to more light-hearted ones. You grabbed another candy bag and a question formed in your brain.

“What exactly does the company know about your relationship?” You asked, tearing open the packet, this one with cartoon purple lizards advertising how “de-liz-cious” the gummies were.

Hyunjin hummed, popping a chocolate-covered cracker into his mouth. Once he chewed and swallowed it, he passed the bag to you.

“The company knows that we help each other through our heats and ruts, that’s why they had you sign a bunch of NDAs,” he told you, “but they don’t exactly know about the actual relationship between us. They know Hannie and Lino-hyung go out together, but they don’t know they’re actually going out together. They know Binnie-hyung flirts with me, but they don’t know that I flirt back when the cameras are off. They know that Chan-hyung and Felix sleep together a lot but they don’t know that they sleep together a lot.” He paused. “And I mean a lot. Honestly, most of the time, sleeping seems to be the last thing on their minds. Horny losers.” He shook his head fondly before refocusing. “The company tells us to play things up for the camera a bit for fan service, but what they don’t know is that we’re actually toning it down.” He finished with a smirk.

You grinned. “Wow. So they don’t know you’re in a relationship at all?”

“Nope. Just our families and some of our friends know. And now you, noona.” Hyunjin rolled over and stretched his arms out. “I guess we are pretty affectionate towards each other around our staff, but I think the whole 8-members thing actually throws them off. Poly packs aren’t as common as they used to be, so it probably hasn’t even occurred to them. They likely assume that some of us are together, just in couples, but they’ve never asked us outright, I think they’re fine with acting ignorant as long as we don’t let them or the public know anything.”

You had collected all of the empty snack bags and were about to throw them away while Hyunjin stretched his arms above his head. “So, is there anything else you want to tell me? I feel like we covered a lot, but just let me know if there’s something else.”

Hyunjin had moved on to stretching his back but paused to smile at you and shake his head. “No, I think we talked about everything we needed to, noona.”

“Okay.” You collected your notebook and bag before shoving the extra snacks in there as well. “Do you think now is a good time to interrupt the dance practice?”

Hyunjin stood up gracefully and sighed. “It’s always a good time to interrupt dance practice. I think Changbin-hyung and Innie will be eternally grateful to you.”

“Not you?” You questioned. “You picked out the snacks and it was your idea.”

He waved his hand dismissively as you made your way out of the dance studio and into the elevator. “They’ll be grateful for about five minutes until they conveniently forget it. Or they’ll ask me why I didn’t come and save them earlier.”

The elevator ride was silent, but much more comfortable than when the two of you had been in the same elevator earlier. You stepped out into the hallway, following Hyunjin until he came to a door on the right.

He peeked in through the window and smiled before gently opening the door.

The song and dance they were doing weren’t as intense as some of their other tracks and routines, it was a B-side they recorded earlier that day, and were still dancing to the guide version, but you could see that they were putting in the exact same amount of effort, no matter what the tempo or sound quality was. Their moves were soft, almost floaty, but they were still very deliberate and precise.

You saw Minho’s eyes glance at you and Hyunjin in the mirror from where he was at the front of the formation, but he gave no other acknowledgment of your presence.

I.N and Changbin also noticed you, but they were less smooth about it. Changbin faltered in his movements and Innie fell behind rhythm.

“Yah, finish up the song, brats. Then we can take a break.”

At Lee Know’s words, the other two seemed to come alive, dancing with more energy than before. The song wasn’t much longer, and their positioning for the ending pose almost made you laugh out loud. Of course, the dance was meant to be for eight members, and there were quite a few missing, so there was Minho and Innie posed together on one side of the studio and Changbin all alone on the other side. Evidently Hyunjin shared the same thoughts as you, but didn’t keep quiet about laughing, even as you two clapped politely.

“Oh, my Binnie-hyung, are you lonely over there?” Hyunjin teased.

Changbin unfroze from his pose to flop down on the wood floor, all splayed out and breathing heavily, but focused on Hyunjin. In a high-pitched voice, he called out, “Yah, Hyunjin, I’m always lonely when I’m away from you!” He wriggled on the floor in a way that you guessed was supposed to be cute, but his obvious lack of energy made it seem more like a fish flopping around on land.

Hyunjin giggled and walked over to Changbin, squatting and grabbing the alpha’s outstretched hand as he murmured something you couldn’t hear.

Innie had flopped down as well, almost mirroring Changbin as he took deep breaths. Minho had walked over to turn the music off, and then sat on the couch with a water bottle.

Seeing that he was mostly okay, you turned back to I.N. “Hey, little alpha. Do you want me to bring you your water bottle?”

Jeongin let out a loud groan that echoed around the studio. “Oh my gosh, noona, you are seriously my new favorite person. Yes, please. It’s the green one.”

You walked over to the wooden counter and retrieved the green water bottle. You spotted a blue and pink water bottle next to it and, deducing that it was Changbin’s, you handed it to Hyunjin to give it to Changbin before you headed back over to I.N.

You squatted next to him just as a loud groan pierced the air. “Y/N! You are welcome to stay with our group for the rest of our lives! I’m going to produce a song about you and sing it at every single concert and award show!”

You smirked at Changbin’s words as Innie thanked you for his water. “Just for brining you your water bottle? At least wait until you see what Hyunjin and I brought in my bag for you.”

Changbin sat up like he was possessed. “What do you have?”

You walked over to your bag and unzipped it, pulling out the barbecue chips Hyunjin had picked out. You tossed them over to Changbin, whose eyes widened as he caught them and read the label. “Yah, Y/N, how did you know I liked these?”

You shrugged as you made your way over to Minho, pudding in hand. “A certain omega packmate of yours might have told me. It was actually his idea, so make sure to thank him.”

Hyunjin had fully sat down next to Changbin, but now, Changbin tackled him onto his back and wriggled the two of them around like happy earthworms.

Minho smiled and thanked you as you handed him the pudding before peeling it open and lying down on the couch. You weren’t entirely sure how safe it was to eat the pudding like that, but he seemed confident in his abilities, like he had done this before, so you left him to it and walked over to Jeongin with the cheese crackers in hand.

Innie had been staring at the other two members, his expression one of disgust, but you could see the fondness sparkling in his eyes. “Gross,” he stated, as Changbin started kissing all over Hyunjin’s face.

“Hopefully, you’ll find this a little less gross,” you told him as you handed him the crackers.

His eyes lit up as he took the packet from you. “Thanks, noona.”

You zipped up your bag and threw it to the other side of the room. “You should be thanking Hyunjin, he picked them out for you.”

Jeongin frowned as he ripped open the snack package. “I don’t need to thank him. If anything, this is what I deserve as compensation for dealing with him.” His eyes wrinkled with his smile as he stuffed a cracker in his mouth. “Oh, thank you, noona! I’ve been extra hungry all day for some reason.”

You smiled and were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hyunjin flopping down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “Yes, thank you, noona. I’m really glad that you’re our caretaker. We haven’t known you for long, but I can tell that we’re going to love you.”

…

Sorry for any mistakes, I edited this and posted it in my college’s parking lot😭

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[gia-d]

Hello!

Anyone who pays any sort of attention to me has probably noticed that most of my latest artwork has been related to the fic This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

There's a very good explanation for this.

It's the best LU fic I have ever read (and trust me I've read a few).

It is so good in fact, I am actively in the process of binding it into a real, physical book so I can always have it ready on my shelf to read if the internet ever goes down.

I highly recommend it to anyone who likes LU, for its incredible characterisations, the highly moving message it sends, and the twisting, addictive narrative that plays out in it, that somehow manages to neatly explain the entire Legend of Zelda timeline with no loose threads (Freyja you are an actual genius).

"But Gia!" I hear a lot of you say, "Characters die in it, it would be too sad for me to read!"

To which I reply: Did you enjoy the Hunger Games? Harry Potter (before she who shall not be named outed herself as a raging transphobe)? Star Wars? Marvel? Vast majority of shonen anime? Literally the majority of popular fandoms?

All of these had beloved characters killed off. This is no different. What is different is that none of them were so kind as to give you an actual warning tag to let you know that someone would die in these stories like fics on AO3 do.

Adjuration is a tragedy in the classic, literary sense. It is not whump. It is not angst. It is not suffering porn. Characters don't die for shock value, they die because it is the only thing that makes sense for the narrative, and the entire time the story is holding your hand through it, telling you that it's ok. He mattered. This has meaning, even if it hurts right now. It is a story that ends with a dash of hope. And for every moment of pain and suffering? There are 5 times as many moments of hilarity (omg the chapter where they are arguing about the definition of "lost" gets me every time), moments of joy (Wind's un-birthday party had me grinning so much), and moments of love (Red with Wild in the shrine of resurrection, Hyrule with the seedling, Malon inviting Wars to stay, Legend going back to tell Ravio the truth...)

Adjuration is probably the best thing I've ever read. I would give nothing more than to be able to wipe my memory of it just so I can experience it for the first time all over again. Please go read it.

[bisexualbrainrots]

Okay so I didn't expect to be so inspired by this post (plus my tags), but hey, what a hiatus does to someone right? @unfuckablebogtroll thanks for the inspo!

So, here's a snippet of whatever this will be (haven't finished outlining the whole story yet) also I know nothing about how social workers work in the us, so i just did a lot of google searches to write this, let's suspend our disbelief lmao:

“I’m here to inform you that from now on your son, Scott Howards, is going to be legally put under your care and will be moved into your residency, we have made an extensive background check…”

Buck wasn’t really paying attention anymore, two words running through his mind.

Your son.

Your son. 

“What do you mean son?” he had just interrupted the social worker and yet, she didn’t seem so taken aback by his clear state of shock.

“We tried to contact you these past few days, didn’t you receive our calls and email?” 

That made him immediately go back and look for his phone, quickly checking everything as he went back to the front door.

Three missed calls and an email sent yesterday. They weren’t wrong, but why did it feel like they were?

“Okay… but I don’t know anything about a kid, wh-who is the mother and why am I supposed to keep him now?” 

Tara explained it all, as quickly as she could, while still keeping a soothing tone in her voice. She clearly had experience in working with situations like this one, or at least some similar, based on how calmly she explained that the mother, some woman named Jessica Howards, passed away a couple of weeks ago and that there was no immediate family that could take care of Scott. The grandparents had passed away two years ago and Jessica didn’t have any siblings that could take care of the kid, so the next (or first really) on the list had to be the biological father.

Evan Buckley was a mess. Nothing in his brain was really computing, not even when the social worker told him about the boy, a six and a half year old kid who despite being named Scott, everyone just called Scotty.

“I-I…” 

“I’m sorry but, how did you find Evan? And where exactly is the kid now?” Tommy had taken the lead, something he knew by now to do whenever Buck’s brain was being useless. He held his hand, rubbing his thumb against some of the knuckles in an effort of grounding Buck, which worked slowly.

“We found a letter in her belongings, it was apparently never sent but dated back to 2018, probably around the time Jessica found out she was pregnant. We also had to do some digging based on the information and found his social media which, well, led us to this moment” she sounded exhausted, it probably took them a lot of hours to even find who Evan was, it was something Tommy could respect, that level of dedication. “And Scotty… he’s actually here, I brought him in the car, you don’t have to worry about much since he had a nap today and we explained all of this to him as best as we could. He also has his own blanket and favorite toy with him, it’s been really helpful to calm him down”

Tara mentioned the documents she had in hand and that seemed to snap something in the couple’s heads. They’d been so shocked at the news they didn’t notice the bundle of papers she carried. Tara once again explained everything thoroughly, that those were all the legalities Buck had to sign in order to be granted guardianship of Scotty, and asked if they could get inside to sign papers and let the boy inside the house.

Tommy nodded and took the lead again, telling Buck to get inside with Tara while he would check on the kid. Tara agreed, stepping inside with Buck who guided her towards the dining table, while Tommy stepped into the social worker’s car.

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

Can I request? You don’t have to if you don’t want:)

Where the reader is to someone he was brought from the real world, and yuu is like still there, so like yuu and the reader, both get teleported from different parts of the real world and they get teleported into twisted wonderland together. However the reader doesn’t get acknowledged as much as yuu, because yuu is more out there and the reader kinda keeps to herself but the reader has a crush on mallus and she’s make it known to him. However, he has disregarded her feelings and practically made it obvious that he prefers yuu over the reader which breaks the reader’s heart, and let’s say the only person who knows about the reader or pay attention to the reader is Rook, and Rook talks to the reader as a best friend in a way. Let’s say during mallus’s overbot she takes a hit that was meant for yuu and she gets really really hurt. As she’s in pain yuu take the chance to defeat mallus, the reader starts to feel a bit woozy and this gains the attention of yuu and mallus and everyone around, but the reader disappear like the evaporate, a bit like how in Demon slayer when you defeat the demons in a more of flowery way. The plot twist is that the reader is not dead but, they return back to the point in the real world as if time had not changed, and at this point mallus is upset and tries to move on like yuu has but realises after a while how much he actually likes the reader’s attention and has feeling for the reader not yuu. He then becomes very distraught after the realisation and find ways to bring back the reader. you can ask me for part two if you want any more ideas I guess.

You can ignore this if you already busy. ☺️😊(sorry for the mistakes🥹)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: BRUH why is this so good. I felt like I was reading a story more than a request when I read your ideas. I’m lowkey just adding my own head cannons onto this with a little bit of pazzah, pls tag me if you ever write this as a full story, part 2 and everything! ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" I will probably not write a pt2 just because I am terrible at writing parts 2. Not completely happy with this one-I don’t think this is that fluffy with all the info/thoughts in my head, but I tried to flesh it out in my own way!

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Malleus x f!Reader (NOT YUU)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴WC: 1.2k!

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: bittersweet love, pinning, one sided love, miscommunication of feelings, fake!death, some dragon tendencies like possessiveness, got a good amount of mistakes in here so pls forgive me *cries*

It really wasn’t fair. You peered over the railing, looking out into the night. The fairy lights and moon shine against Yuu- short, chopped hair accenting their feminine features, an innocent like beauty, outgoing and extroverted unlike yourself. She was the main character here as she stood next to Malleus, quiet, ebony hair that drapes down his shoulders. He tucks a slimmer of her hair behind her ears. 

Yuun affirmed that there was nothing between them. That she had no feelings- she didn’t even know his real name! And that was ridiculous, because how could she not see the regal air around him?

He doesn’t notice you; that because Yuu is perfect. She is the sun shining and you are the shadow that it casts. 

Your confession came out of the blue. Yuu was feeling under the weather after diving deep into the ocean to search for some painting. You never really understood the details. What you understood is that Yuu acted rather delirious and needed sleep. Green pulses outside the balcony window, your heart races. 

A light blush overtakes your cheeks as you see the firelights flicker outside the front door’s side window. You step outside, the cool porch tingling against your bare feet. He’s there, graceful and poised as ever compared to your bags and tangled hair. A squeak of the boards catch his, his eyes widen with the downturn of his lips, “Oh, Ramshackle other inhabitant,” he looks up towards the room Yuu is resting in, something stirs in your heart at his expression, “It seems as if your Prefect is fast in the realms of dreams.” You nod your head, clutching the blanket closer to you. Head tingling, this is the closest you’ve been to him. Your first conversation and yet monotone comes out, “She is sick and needs sleep. Come another night to talk to her.” He hums, a delicate finger holding his chin in thought. “Ahh…I pray that our nightly chats haven’t disturbed you.” He is about to turn around, to leave, you can see his foot already ready to pivot, “Tell her I will return when she recover- “ “I like you.” Malleus pauses and you can’t believe you were stupid enough to confess to him. You want to deny it, to explain how you fell in love with the way he walks, the charm of his voice through windowpane seals, the way you wish he looked at you like the way he looks at Yuu-  “I have read about this before, this type of confession,” he starts, and your stomach drops as he crosses his hands against his chest, “I cannot accept your feelings.” He looks up towards the balcony and it mortifies you.

So, you try to do your best, well the best you can with the insomnia caused by yourself and your big fat mouth. 

Rook eats breakfast with you each day- him curating a balanced meal towards a heart-broken soul. He could read you so well. 

“Why my petite ombre! All you need to do it become the beautiful sparrow everyone can’t help but want.” Rook says before heading off to class. He tussles the hair on your head, or fixing it? You couldn’t tell. 

So, again, you try. A little more active, a little more talkative, a little more confident. If the sun cast shadows, then you were the flower peaking over the edge.

What you didn’t expect was Malleus to Overblot. 

It’s scary. Yuu looks like the commander as she barks out orders with the rest of the NRC students fighting. Silver sending off another attack, pain etched on his face. Another attack blasts students away and you see Yuu fly among the rubble. You see another flash of light coming from the dragon’s breath-

You didn’t expect to take a hit for Yuu as well. But she is the sun, and you need the sun to live no matter how far in the shadows you are. She will save him. 

You can’t see straight after the battle is over, that half the world is dark…blurry…like it doesn’t exist, like it's disappearing. 

“(Y/N)! Oh god.” You hear Yuu from your right as she grips your hand. Everything feels so cold. You hear him shout towards Rook, oh he’s here also? “Why- why is she like this?” You want to talk, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Yuu is crying, she has tears in her eyes, and you wonder why. Rook speaks this time, you’ve never seen him this discomposed, “I- I’ve never seen this before.” “What do you mean!? She- she’s evaporating!” Yuu cries taking off her jacket trying to cover your arm. You don’t understand, as you twist out of Yuu’s jacket, she tries to stop you, “No, don’t move! Not until we figure this out.” But she’s too slow at explaining and with your blurry vision, you see your hand? Or half your hand as it dissipates into the air.  “(Y/N)…?” You don’t even have to see to know whose voice that is.  Malleus. 

He kneels next to you, alongside Yuu and Rook, his bare hands touching against the wisps of what your hand was. He looks frightened. Can you even read expressions right when you can only see half a face? 

You want to tell him not to worry, even though you are scared. That you're glad he is alive, that he was your first love, and you wish you could redo that night all over again. Something warm tingles against and suddenly stops. He must have done something wrong because you see pink and black hair- Lillia- tugging on his shoulder, shaking his head. 

Love is bittersweet. There are no last goodbyes as you fade away. 

You wake up on your bed. Your bed. The AC flowing, the faint hum of your earbuds against plush comforter, the city noise in the background. 

You’re back…?

A weight on your palm as you turn against your side. It was there- your phone turned on and open to the home screen of Twisted Wonderland. You click on the screen…Nothing. Again, again, again! And nothing happens. It still just reads the logo. 

Your mind is spiraling as you twist on your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror by your nightstand, and everything stops at once. Your hair is shorter- by your chin. It was so long… you haven’t cut it since the day you woke up in Twisted Wonderland…

It wasn’t a dream…. was it? . . . . “This won’t bring her back.” The caldron bellows into an array of green and yellow swirling into one. Books litter the floor as chaos organized the room. He is one of the most powerful magicians in Twisted Wonderland.  Something was strange about that last night, the way you seemed so scared, different that how steady you presented yourself. The way your eyes stared at him seconds before you phased out of the existence of this realm. He adds a pinch of hazel dust and the green turns into a dark blue like your eyes. He shakes his head- unnecessary thoughts would be of no use to him.  Not until you returned.

[autisticandroids]

Seeing as you provide every interesting in depth spn analysis I'm probably coming to the wrong person for something so possibly surface level but I'm rewatching spn and would really love something to keep notes on, so is there any interesting phenomena in there you think would be worth keeping an eye on?

i received this, like, a month ago 🥴 sorry. anyway.

so, first of all. i'm flattered but i have also always been a little uncomfortable with the superlatives people attach to my name. the reason people think of me as some kind of spn scholar is a result of four factors, give or take: first, i make a lot of posts. in the year after november fifth i made something like five thousand posts. i know because i tag all my spn posts spn. and a lot of those posts were half a sentence! or an ask i answered with emojis! but it's still a lot of posts. the second reason is that i'm kind of a last man standing. a lot of the big name post-nov fifth destiel fandom crowd has kind of evaporated in search of newer, shinier things; my fascination was more enduring, so i still get the credit. the third reason has to do with like... i have slightly different tastes than the average spn fandom person and so the things i pay attention to are different and so my takes are unique. there were a lot of blogs that were bigger than me that people don't remember as much because their takes were more in line with conventional fanon (and therefore more similar to other people's and less memorable), whereas mine, because i have specific interests and am an incurable contrarian, were more unique and therefore people remembered who i was. fourth, and here we are down to the meat of the issue, i speak very authoritatively and use a lot of big words when i'm excited about something so people think i'm right.

i guess what i'm saying is don't take me so seriously.

now that my narcissism is out of the way, let's talk about themes in supernatural.

first of all, the thing about supernatural is that it has three hundred and twenty seven episodes organized into fifteen seasons, written by fifty three different writers supervised by four different showrunners and that's just the writing! that doesn't even mention directing, or acting, or producing... personally i like to say that i can feel when the story editor changes! so there really is... almost nothing you can get out of the whole show as a text that isn't incredibly broad and/or vague and/or boring. "they say family a lot" yeah they sure do. "it's a reactionary macho fantasy" like every other show from 2005. "they kill all the women" mmmmhm. like, basically every consistent element of spn as a story is a result of either classic genre cliches from the scifi or procedural or teenie bopper genres, very basic conclusions from the premise, or just the material nature of the behind the scenes of supernatural. they're going on a case instead of working on the main apocalypse of the season because this is a monster of the week show. cas has gone away again because they don't want to pay misha collins. quiet emotional scenes get dropped from the script because they don't serve the plot. and while there's some interesting things you can get out of these elements - one piece of analysis i've been thinking about a lot lately is this video about the mcu that argues that the classic serialized storytelling logic of constant escalation leads inherently to a fascist politics, and i think this point applies very well to supernatural - it only goes so far. it's interesting if you want to look at how the show exists in the wider politics of the real world. it's not that interesting if you want to sit with the show supernatural in its particular uniqueness.

so basically my recommendation, first of all, is to divide the show up into chunks. there are some obvious chunks - by season, by showrunner. most people do these. i would also recommend other methods, for example tying together some adjacent seasons. for example, even though season eleven is technically carver era and season twelve is technically dabb era, i would argue that seasons eleven and twelve have more in common in terms of tone and style than eleven has with 8/9/10 or twelve has with 13/14/15. seasons four, five, and six have a lot in common in terms of tone and themes that they don't share with seven or the first three. i would also recommend paying attention to the individual writers; their bodies of work will usually have more in common with themselves than with the episodes around them in terms of character, tone, and theme. for example, in season six, ben edlund creates a whole other arc about the angel civil war that he wants the season to have that exists only in his episodes, and none of the other writers really pick up what he's putting down so he's kind of left hanging. you can see all sorts of patterns like this if you sit down and look, and i would recommend doing that. maybe you can be the first guy to memorize all the directors and have Thoughts.

and then the next thing i would say is just... pick some themes you want to iterate on. so for example: one of my favorite themes to contemplate is a theme that season six almost has - dean believing that it is his job to protect ben and lisa, which justifies anything he might want to do to them, or anyone else.

----

man everything above that line is an ask i half answered then forgot about in july of 2023. i NEED to check my drafts more often

[0-sparkling-lace-0]

The Lab Assistant

Hey! Before I start I'd like to introduce myself. You can call me winky, or wink, or luna. Also, I'd like to say in no way shape or form am I a writer. I dabbled in it when I was younger, it's been well over 5/6 years since I've written anything, though. So that being said, I wrote this years ago on a Tumblr account that I had that is now deactivated, because I personally wasn't happy with my work.

sigh

Always the critic. Anyways, I found this in an OLD ASS Google doc, and decided to read it again. Um, why I thought it was bad is beyond me. I was like 18-19 when I wrote this, and thought it was terrible. It's not the best, but for someone who was literally only just starting to write, I'm not sure it's that bad. Also, I'd like to say that my interests have steered away from Rick & Morty since having written this, so I don't really see myself writing for this fandom again. If you like it, please let me know! Also before I start, here are some warnings and tags.

MDNI. WC:1.8k RickSanchez x LabAssistant!Reader/AFAB!Reader/Age Gap/Use of Y/N/Masturbation/(Maybe slight degradation? If not let me know.)/Oral (Giving&Recieving)/Pet Names(Use of Daddy, baby girl ect-nothing too extreme)/(if I've forgotten anything, let me know!) Also it's been so long that I've been in this fandom or have read any fanfiction with Rick involved. If it's fell out of touch to write him with burping and or his usual stutters, I'm so sorry. That's probably the only thing that made me cringe while re-reading this.

It was a day like any other, as I helped Rick with whatever he needed. "Screwdriver." He said with a gruff voice. Before I walked over to the box that held his tools, I peered over his shoulder to see what exactly it was that he was working on. Mildly interested, I grabbed him the screwdriver and handed it to him. "Final touches..." He announced finally after an entire day of working on whatever it was that he was working on. "Finished!" He shouted. I was excited to see what it was, finally. "So, what is it?" I ask curiously. He smirks at me, giving me wild eyes that I'm easily intimidated by. "It's a de-device that can-burp- read your mind." I step back cautiously. Usually, I'd be the first to offer myself up as a guinea pig-bearing in mind that there's no way he can delve into my mind and discover the parts of me that I wouldn't want him to see. I always sense he knows that I have feelings for him, but he never brings it up because I'm a third his age. Even if that's the case, I can't take the chance. "No, I don't want you in my mind." He laughs. "Why not? Have some d-deep dark secret that you don't want people to know about?" I narrow my eyes at him, giving him a look that says back off. "Maybe I do. But seriously, I don't want to test this one." He sighs an upset sigh. "Alright. Maybe I can bribe-burp- Morty into doing it later. It's been a long day, let's go to-to bed." I give him a sad smile before I apologize and waltz out of the garage door and into the kitchen. "Goodnight, Y/N." I looked at the clock above the sink and realized it's only 8:30. "You're really going to bed? Why don't you hang out with me a little? We can watch Ball Fondlers together." I smile at him with questioning eyes, not wanting him to go to bed yet. I'd spent the whole day with him and I still want to be near him. He gave me a dirty look before lugging himself up the stairs. Maybe I made him mad when I told him I didn't want to test the mind reader. I frowned before grabbing something to eat and heading upstairs. I grabbed my TV remote once settled in my cozy bed and turned on Netflix. I kept the volume on low, not wanting to disturb Rick and make him even more upset towards me. 2 episodes in I started to hear mumbling. Wait, no, was it moaning? Someone must bewatching a movie, or something. I try not to think about it as I pay attention to my show.After a while, it starts to get louder and my thoughts interrupt my concentration. "I can't deal with this." I hop off my bed and walk out into the hallway, following the sound. But as I get closer, I realize the moaning isn't coming from a TV. I look over to Rick's bedroom door and see it cracked a bit. I tiptoe over to it and slightly peek through. Immediately my face flushes red at the sight. Rick, on his bed with his pants and his boxers to his knees, hand furiously tugging at his member. I had to cover my mouth to not moan at the view in front of me. He's a moaning mess. I slowly start to feel myself get wet with every passing second. This is wrong, so wrong. I shouldn't be invading his privacy like this. But I just can't tear my eyes away. "Fuuucck, Y/N..." My eyes got wide and how could I possibly get wetter than I was already? I could feel the wet patch forming in my jeans. My free hand went down to touch my clothed core. I had to bite my hand to keep myself from making any noise, this was too good to be true, I didn't want to lose it. My confidence boosted as I heard my name being called once again. I grabbed the door handle and thought about it one more time before finally making my decision. I swung the door open as I said: "You do realize I'm less than half your age, old man." He jumped and looked startled before he smirked at me; not the reaction I was expecting. "How long have you b-been listening?" I hopped up on the bed and crawled over to him. "Long enough to know that you're lusting after me, your lab assistant-how taboo." He chuckled darkly before saying:

"Not my fault you have killer tits, babe." I looked down to my chest and then back up to him before smiling. "Really? You think I have nice tits?" "Don't flatter yourself. I know you have a -burp- huge crush on me." I sat back on my heels with a frown on my lips before I said: "Well, from the look of it, it seems that you've one on me too." I gestured to his throbbing cock, still on display. "Like I said, killer tits." A thought popped into my head before I grabbed the hem of my spaghetti strap tank top and pulled it over my head, not wearing a bra. I heard his breath hitch in his throat. I raised my eyebrow in a challenge. "Fuck it." He breathed before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me closer into a kiss. Not a gentle one, but an all consuming, hungry one. I kissed back with fervor. He pulled his hand up to my tit and ran the pad of his thumb over my nipple. I reached down between his legs to grab his aching cock and pumped him. He grunted and bit my bottom lip. I stole a glance into his wild, lust blown pupils. He pulled away from the kiss to shove my head downwards. "Suck it." I let out an angry breath through my nostrils. "You can boss me around in the garage, but not in the bedroom." "Hah! You act li-like I'm paying you-you for hard work." I grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed slighty while he hissed in slight pain. "Don't dare treat me like a 2 cent whore, ask nicely and you'll get what you want." He let out an annoyed sigh before saying "Please dear, would you su-suck my dick." Although I'd like it to be less sarcastic and more sincere, I want to get this show on the road. So I take his tip into my mouth and give it kitten licks to tease and get my revenge.

He twines his hand through my hair and pushes my head all the way down. After pausing slightly to gain control of myself, I started to bob my head up and down. His hips started to move on their own. The only thing I could do was relax my jaw in order to not hurt him while he face fucked me. Soon enough he was twitching in my mouth and I could tell that he was close, so I stopped. "What the fuck are you doing?!" "I don't want you to cum yet. Like you said, I have a crush on you too, where's my fun?" "You little bitch." He said before grabbing me and flipping me onto my back. "You like tea-teasing me? Huh?" I giggled before saying, "Yes, I do." He growled before ripping down my jeans and panties all in one go. "You're my assistant. I'm above you. Where's your respect?" All I could do is laugh. "You don't intimidate me, Rick. Now are you gonna keep babbling or are you gonna shove your face where it belongs?" Taking jabs at each other was a normal thing for us, but in a scenario like this? It only made me love him more. He gave me a look that could kill before he finally lowered his head. He started at my knees, giving me soft open mouthed kisses and traveled slowly up to my inner thighs. I was starting to get impatient. I sat up on my elbows and said: "Just get on with it." He shot me a smile. "Oh no, babe. I'm gonna-gonna make you beg." I laid back down with a huff. He laughed softly. I could feel his breath on me now. Finally, he took a long stripe up the center of me. I put my hand over my mouth, hoping he wouldn't see, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He then started to suckle on my sensitive nub and I whimpered somewhat loudly into my hand. He looked up, angry. "None of that, baby. I want to-to hear you." When I didn't listen to him, he stopped. I whined at the loss of contact. "What? You wa-want me to keep going? Like I said, beg -burp- for it, honey." I looked in his eyes a long while before finally saying, "Please." "Nuh-uh. You gotta beg." He grazed his hand over my clit before quickly taking it away, and that was enough to make me want more. I grabbed his neck, pulled him closer to me, and whispered into his ear, "Please, Daddy." "Fuuuck. God, I can't wait-wait any longer." He rubbed his cock against my entrance a few times before finally pushing himself in. My arm flew over my face before I could moan out loud.

He growled once he saw and grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once he was all the way in, he leaned down to my ear. "Is Daddy big enough for ya, baby doll?" I was lost. I couldn't hold back any longer. "Yes, fuck Daddy. You're so big." He laughed before pulling back out and ramming himself back into me. He took his hands to the backs of my thighs, lifting them and pressing them up, my knees close to my chest. "F-Fuck!" I moaned loudly into his shoulder. He started at a slow pace, over time growing impatient and speeding up. I swear I could feel the tip kissing my cervix, he was so deep. Before long I could feel the enticing feeling in my stomach start to pool, my walls around him beginning to clench. "You close, sweet-sweetheart?" All I could do is nod furiously, as words were beyond my comprehension. "Good, cum with Daddy. C'mon baby-baby girl. That's it." That was all I needed to be pushed over the edge. I felt him cumming along with me as I looked up at him to see his face contorted with pleasure, filling me up with his load. Panting, I grabbed his face and pulled it down to me, giving him a loving kiss. After a while of heavy breathing, he rolled away from me. I sat onto my side to look at him. When we caught eye contact he rolled his eyes. "C-C'mere." I smiled wide before nuzzling my face into his chest. He was playing with my hair before I looked up at him and said, "So, Ball Fondlers?"

[danicamaximoff]

Pretend To Be Nice | Chapter Four

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Chapter Four: 70's Funk?

Summary: A few months after forming their band "The Pussycats", Hazel and her friends PJ and Josie get noticed by a record label, and are quickly skyrocketed into fame. It's a dream come true for them, and all three of their lives are flipped upside down. Their quick arrival on the scene quickly draws the attention of many other artists and bands, including a popular girl band called "Nymphology". Unfortunately for Hazel, a mix-up and unintentional awful encounter ends up creating tension between the two groups right before they all leave for Nymphology's upcoming tour. Now forced to frequently interact with someone who she was convinced couldn't stand her, Hazel is desperately trying to fix things with the band's lead guitarist. However it doesn't help that Y/N is actively avoiding Hazel as much as possible, and the fact that Hazel found her insanely hot definitely didn't make things any easier.

Warnings: angst, rockstar au, eventual smut, slowburn, swearing, occasional alcohol mentions/use

Word Count: 4377

“Should we get mac and cheese?” Josie asks as she pushes the shopping cart as her and Hazel wander through the grocery store aisles to get a few snacks and food for their hotel room.

“Like the microwave one or the stove one?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows.

“Either one.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Josie, we don't have a stove in the hotel.” Hazel says as she shakes her head. “Or literally any cooking items.”

“You can make boxed mac in the microwave, I do it all the time at Sarah Lawrence.” Josie says with a shrug as she looks at Hazel.

“That sounds disgusting.” Hazel says as she scrunches up her face a bit.

“I mean it tastes the same for the most part, mac is mac. You just have to get the shell ones or sometimes the noodles clump together and then I guess it’s a little weird.” Josie says as she grabs a few boxes of mac and cheese as well as the microwavable cups.

“Do you know when we hear from Wyatt if we get a record deal or not? Oh shit.” Hazel asks as she absentmindedly runs her hand along the shelf tags, eyes going wide as she accidentally knocks a few of them to the ground, mentally panicking as she immediately grabs them and starts trying to put them back in their spots. “Oh hey, we should get gummy worms too.”

“I mean the meeting is today, so we should find out soon.” Josie says as she shrugs. “What happens if they sign us?”

“I dunno? We make a record?” Hazel says as she looks over at Josie.

“No, like, are we staying in the hotel the whole time? I don’t want to live in a hotel.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I mean we’d probably get an apartment, wouldn’t we?” Hazel says as she gets a confused look.

“I can’t afford Los Angeles!” Josie says as her eyes go wide in horror. “I can barely afford mac and cheese! How am I supposed to pay for an apartment?”

“Well they would pay us right? Plus it’s cool, if we get signed I can probably ask my mom to chip in or something. I’m pretty sure she has a beach house out here that she vacations at with boyfriends. My dad bought it for her when they were still together as an “I’m Sorry I Cheated” house. I heard them fighting about it in middle school.” Hazel says as she shrugs. “I can see if we can use it or something.”

“You never told me your dad cheated?” Josie asks with a confused and shocked look on her face.

“Well, yeah. You never asked, I didn’t think it was important.” Hazel says as she shrugs.

“I mean, you don’t have to, but I would tell you if something like that happened. You’re one of my best friends.” Josie says with a shrug.

“Wait, really?” Hazel says as she gets a surprised look on her face.

“Hazel, we’re literally in a band together and we hang out all the time.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a funny look.

“Yeah but I thought it’s mostly you and PJ doing stuff and me just tagging along.” Hazel says with a slightly confused look.

“What? No!” Josie says as she gives Hazel a confused look. “Hazel, you’re like the main reason the band exists, and I wouldn’t have come if you didn’t convince me.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“PJ said you agreed to join the band because she said you’d get a girlfriend.” Hazel says as she frowns and gives Josie a confused look as well.

“Hazel, PJ says a lot of stuff.” Josie says as she rolls her eyes. “I love her, but she just talks to talk half the time. I never even wanted to be in a band, it scares the crap out of me, dude. I know I complained about the bowling alley a lot, but playing at the party was like the worst stage fright I’ve ever experienced.” Josie says as she shakes her head while grabbing a few grocery items off the shelves and into the cart she was pushing.

“But then why’d you-” Hazel starts to say before Josie cuts her off.

“Because I remembered you had always wanted to be in a band. Didn’t you have an obsession with Kiss or something when you were younger?” Josie says as she glances at Hazel.

  “I did, I went as Paul Simmons for Halloween one year.” Hazel says as she nods.

“See? That’s why I joined. You love music, and you do all the hard stuff like getting outfits and gigs and everything, I just have to show up and play, which is good because I think if I had any other responsibilities I would crumble under the pressure because I get anxious enough about performing.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“I thought you guys didn’t like the cat ears?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I thought they were kind of fun.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t have cared if we didn’t wear them, but it was a cool idea. And people liked it and it fits with the band name.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I think it should be part of our outfits.”

“Wait, really?” Hazel asks as her face lights up with excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me I was the reason you joined?” 

“Because PJ takes over, so when she says we’re doing this to get girlfriends, you kind of just have to go along with it.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I was never doing it to get a girlfriend. I just like the drums.” Hazel says as she furrows her brows.

“Yeah, but you can also say no to PJ, cause you don’t care. She’s my best friend so I just kind of go along with things after a bit.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Hazel says as she shrugs, before realizing something irrelevant to the conversation. “Oh I forgot to tell you, that girl you like is at the same studio as us. You know, the one from Nymphology with the like-” Hazel starts to say as she gestures at her chest where hair would be if she had long hair, but Josie cuts her off as she starts nervously laughing.

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” Josie says as she stops walking and leans her head against her arms as they rest on the shopping cart. “I already met her, and I almost threw up.” 

“What? You threw up?!” Hazel asks in shock as she gives Josie an alarmed look.

“No! God I would die if I did! I wasn’t being serious! I was just a total idiot when I talked to her!” Josie says as her eyes go wide and she shakes her head.

“What’d you say? I mean it probably wasn’t that bad, you’re a very likeable person.” Hazel says as her face scrunches up in confusion.

“Well I saw her, and I choked on the water I was drinking, and then she came over and asked if I was okay, and I said yeah, and then she was like “I’m Isabel” and I was like “I’m Josie” and then I stared at her for like a second and then looked away, and then I asked if she liked water because I couldn’t think of anything to say.” Josie says awkwardly as she looks up at the ceiling.

“Well did she?” Hazel asks.

“Did she what?” Josie asks Hazel with a confused look.

“Did she like water?” Hazel says as she looks at Josie expectantly.

“Yes. She did. Everyone does, Hazel, you need it to live.” Josie says as she looks at Hazel a bit in disbelief. 

“Well now you have something in common!” Hazel says as she smiles a bit, clearly thinking she was being helpful, as Josie sighs and shakes her head.

“We gotta work on how you comfort people, dude.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“What’s wrong with how I comfort people?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“It’s not that there’s something wrong, you just-” Josie says before sighing. “I just mean that if you weren’t one of my best friends and I didn’t know you, I would think you’re being a dick and making fun of me.”

“Oh, really? I thought that would be helpful, cause now you have something in common with her.” Hazel says as she shrugs. 

“I-” Josie starts to say before stopping and sighing a bit. “Thank you Hazel, that actually is helpful.” Josie says as she nods, though she definitely was just saying that to not make Hazel sad.

“Oh really? Sick!” Hazel says with a grin. “Oh you know what you should do? Mention moss! Because it can help you find water! And then you have two things to talk about!” Hazel says excitedly as they continue shopping.

“Hi mom!” Hazel says into the phone excitedly from her hotel room, feeling like she was about to pass out. She had just got back from the meeting with the record label, and The Pussycats had officially been signed for a three year contract, and if their first album did well, then that would most likely be extended. They started recording the rest of the album tomorrow, and the label agreed to pay for the hotel for the time being until the three of them found a place to live in. 

“Hi sweetheart! How are you!” Hazel’s mom says into the phone, sounding like she was yelling for some reason.

“Are you yelling? Why are you talking weird?” Hazel says with a confused tone.

“I’m on my elliptical right now, but I have a face mask and I’m doing that cucumber thing on my eyes! Annie said it will help with my bags and the dark circles! Annie, say hi to Hazel!” Her mom says over the phone, talking to her best friend Annie.

“Hi Hazel! How’s college?” Annie says in the background.

“No, Annie, she’s not at Sarah Lawerence right now, for that… that band thing.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Oh that’s right! How’s LA? Have you met Robert Downey Jr. yet?” Annie asks in the background, yelling as well.

“I’m here for music stuff, not movies.” Hazel says into the phone as she shakes her head.

“It could happen! If you meet him, tell him I’m single!” Annie yells, which makes Hazel roll her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, okay anyways, mom can I tell you my news now?” Hazel says impatiently.

“Yes, of course sweetheart! What is it? Annie shut up.” Her mom says over the phone.

“We got a record deal! The contract is for three years!” Hazel says excitedly, and her mother gasps over the phone.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” Her mom yells over the phone, though still clearly exercising as she talks. “Annie, did you hear that? Hazel’s going to be a musician!” 

“Yeah, I know! We start recording the album tomorrow!” Hazel says excitedly as she grins.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Her mom yells. “Siri! Siri! Si-Ri!” Her mom beggins yelling clearly trying to get her phone’s voice assistant to activate. “Annie why is Siri not working?” 

“Mom, why do you need Siri?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I need to set a reminder to book a flight to LA!” She says to Hazel.

“What? Why?” Hazel asks, clearly confused by her mother’s sudden plans.

“Hazel, you’re going to be famous! I want to be there to see my little Witch Hazel spread her wings!” Her mom says into the phone, using a nickname from when Hazel was little, which makes Hazel groan.

“Mom, please stop calling me that! I’m not five anymore!” Hazel says with embarrassment.

“Siri! Siri! Oh for Christ's sake, Annie, I’m taking the cucumbers off.” Hazel’s mom says, before shuffling noise is heard as she seemingly grabs the phone. “Let me find a good flight, and I’ll fly out as soon as I can sweetheart!” She says excitedly, her voice significantly closer to the phone and not yelling as much since she was now holding the phone.

“No, mom you really don’t-” Hazel starts to say before her mom cuts her off.

“Do you girls need somewhere to stay? I assume you can’t be in a hotel the whole time.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone, which makes Hazel perk up.

“Yeah, actually! That’s part of why I called, I was wondering if we can rent out the beach house or something instead of getting an apartment, because PJ and Josie can’t afford rent out here.” Hazel says quickly. “We’d take really good care of it! We wouldn’t ruin it!”

“Oh, yeah, of course! We can sign you up for surfing lessons too, so you can be a California girl and get the full experience!” Hazel’s mom says with an excited tone.

“Oh I don’t really-” Hazel starts to say before she gets cut off again.

“No, no, no, trust me! You’ll want surfing lessons sweetheart! It’s very rockstar! Plus the instructors are usually hot. I had one a few years ago, what was his name?” Hazel’s mom says as she thinks for a second. “Well, I can’t remember, but I do remember he was very hot! We hooked up a lot that summer, he-” Hazel’s mom starts to say, before Hazel cuts her off.

“Ew, mom! I don’t want to hear about that!” Hazel says with a disgusted look on her face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Her mom says defensively. “I’m just saying! They’re usually very hot!”

“Mom, I don’t even like men, you know this!” Hazel says, still disgusted at the topic.

“There’s girl instructors too!” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Mom- I- No! I don’t- Can we go back to talking about the beach house?” Hazel says as she stumbles over her words.

“Alright, alright! I’m letting it go! Of course you can use the beach house sweetheart, we can work out all the details when I fly out. Anyways I have to go, I have a decorative bead making class in an hour and I have to change out of my workout clothes. I’ll text you the flight plans once I book it! I love you!” Hazel’s mom says before hanging up the phone, leaving Hazel confused.

“Decorative bead making class?” Hazel says to herself with confusion as Josie and PJ enter the hotel room.

“Hazel, there were the hottest girls at the pool just now, one of them was totally into me! I told you guys this was a good idea!” PJ says excitedly as she throws her towel down on one of the chairs in the hotel room.

“They looked at us like once, PJ.” Josie says as she gives PJ a look.

“Yeah and it was a “I’m totally into you” kind of look!” PJ says as she throws her arms up and looks at Josie. “Oh, Hazel, have you called your mom yet?” She asks as she flops down on the couch.

“Yeah! She said we can move into the beach house!” Hazel says with a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” PJ says excitedly as she punches the air.

“Hey guys? Have we like, put thought into what songs are going on the album?” Josie asks as she grabs a soda from the mini fridge.

“Shit!” PJ says as she sits up a bit.

“I mean I have, but it’s not-” Hazel starts to say as PJ cuts her off.

“Write it down! We need to have a plan for tomorrow! Fuck, Josie! Why’d you make me go to the pool!” PJ says as she panics a bit, as Josie throws her arm up in annoyance, as going to the pool had been PJ’s idea.

“Fuck, that’s not right.” Hazel says as she frowns and scribbles out the notes she wrote on the music sheet. She bites on her pencil for a moment as she thinks, before setting it down and readjusting the electric guitar she was holding and playing different note sequences over again as she tries to figure out the guitar part for a song.

She was currently the only one in the studio, PJ and Josie had left about thirty minutes ago to go grab dinner, but Hazel had stayed behind, determined to figure out this new song they were working on that had her stumped. She had already figured out the general beat and the chorus, but the more fine details and actual instrumentals to the song was frustrating her, as she couldn’t seem to figure out a vibe that she liked and matched with the vision she had for the song. Josie and PJ had tried to convince her to take a break, but she refused to leave until she figured this out, so here she was, alone with one of the electric guitars as she ran over the same section over and over again, trying to come up with something she liked. 

It had been about a week and a half since being signed, and they had been working constantly on the album, picking which songs, discussing with Wyatt, and had even decided to come up with a few new ones per Wyatt’s suggestion, giving them advice and his thoughts on what the album was missing. 

Staring off into space, she hums the general vibe of the song she had so far to herself, her fingers absentmindedly tap against the base of the guitar as she bites her lip a bit and thinks. Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the sound of the door to the studio opening as she begins playing another random string of notes on the guitar, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Is that for the album?” Y/N asks from the door, as she leans against the doorframe, making Hazel jump in her seat a bit.

“Oh my god, hi!” She says as she quickly turns and sees Y/N, heart immediately racing.

“Hi.” Y/N says as she grins softly. “They leave you in here by yourself?” She asks as she looks around at the empty recording studio.

“Oh, yeah. Josie and PJ went to go grab food but I wanted to stay and work on this new song we’re writing.” Hazel says as she smiles, trying not to show how nervous she is.

“Can I hear it? I promise I won’t steal it.” Y/N says with a small laugh, a teasing grin on her face that makes Hazel’s stomach do cartwheels.

“Oh it’s not- I mean- it’s- I’m still working on it. It’s in shambles right now.” Hazel says, nervously stumbling over her words.

“That’s okay, I won’t judge.” Y/N says with a laugh as she shakes her head. 

“Oh, I mean- uh, yeah sure, if you really want to then.” Hazel says as she nods a bit.

“Yeah, show me what you got so far.” She says with a smile as she walks inside, the studio door closing behind her as she goes and sits down on one of the chairs near Hazel.

“Okay, yeah. Um, so this song is supposed to be like towards the end of the album kind of. A lot of our songs are like in the alternative category, but Wyatt said we should add more variety to what we have so far, so we added a few slower ones, and for this one, PJ said she wanted it to be more “funky” but not 70’s, and I don’t really know what that means. We don’t even have all the lyrics either, it’s very unfinished right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs a hand through her hair, avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

“What are you working on right now?” Y/N asks as she scoots a bit closer to see what Hazel had written down so far. “I can try and help if you want.”

“Really?” Hazel asks as she looks at her in shock.

“Yeah.” Y/N says as she smiles and nods her head. “Nymphology finished recording for the day, I was heading out but I saw someone was in here so I wanted to say hi in case it was you.” 

“Why me?” Hazel asks, both in shock and confusion.

“Well we didn’t really get to talk a few weeks ago, and I’m curious about the moss thing now, because I think it was Josie? But anyways, one of the girls in my band is named Isabel, and apparently Josie brought up moss the other day.” Y/N says as she laughs a bit. “I’m just curious now if that’s like a friend group thing or not.”

“No! It’s not! It’s my thing! I told Josie about it because she likes Isabel so I said she should bring up moss because they both like water, so it connects, and that’s what I do.” Hazel says quickly as she shakes her head, before her eyes go wide as she realizes what she said. “Shoot, don’t tell her I said that.” She says as Y/N laughs.

“So you bring up moss as a flirting tactic?” Y/N asks with a grin, which makes Hazel panic.

“What? What- No! No, I don’t- Sometimes, but like-” Hazel says as she immediately stumbles over her words and blushes a bit. “Anyways the song!” She says quickly as she turns back to the paper she had been writing on. What is wrong with me?! She thinks to herself as Y/N giggles. She was rarely like this around girls. Fuck. She seriously needed to ignore the fact that Y/N was super pretty and get her game back. Except when she actually thought about it, that was definitely very impossible. Double fuck. “Anyways, this is the part I’m trying to figure out right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs her hand through her hair again before readjusting the guitar again, internally just a jumbled mess on nerves and anxiety as she begins playing what she had so far on the guitar.

“And your friend said she wanted it to be what? Funky but not 70’s?” Y/N asks after thinking for a minute, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Yeah.” Hazel says softly as she avoids eye contact, glancing all over, eyes falling on Y/N’s shoes though, as the red converse had a lot of doodles all over them.

“Can I see what else you have?” Y/N asks, a bit more serious now as Hazel hands her the papers and notes without saying anything. She reads over, her fingers tapping against the paper as she figures out the beat and the drum parts Hazel had so far. “I think the only “funky” kind of part should be the guitar. But even then less funky and more fun. Do you listen to Paramore?” She asks as she looks over at Hazel.

“Wh- Yeah, I do.” Hazel says as her head snaps up and she nods.

“I don’t know if this will make sense, but maybe coming up with something that sounds like how their album cover for After Laughter looks?” Y/N says as she shrugs and furrows her brows a bit.

“I- That does actually, yeah.” Hazel says as she nods.

“Like, hold on, let me think.” Y/N says as she furrows her brows for a moment. “Can I see that quick?” She asks as she gestures to the guitar. 

“Oh, yeah, here.” Hazel says as she hands her the guitar, heart unintentionally racing a bit as their hands accidentally brush against each other.

They spend a while going over random chord progressions and different melodies, until after a while, they had created a pretty solid backbone for the guitar part of the song, that Hazel and the others could flesh out more later. As time goes on Hazel gradually relaxes more, being able to focus on the song and music helping her distract herself from her nerves, and allowing her to start cracking jokes more and actually engage in conversation outside of the song and music stuff.

By the time Josie and PJ arrive, Y/N was telling Hazel about crazy fan experiences, and wild things that had happened to her and her friends over the years, laughing as she mentions the time she had created a fake twitter account and started beef with herself and how pissed the fans got at her burner account. 

“Hey, Hazel- Oh. Hi?” PJ says as she walks in, doing a double take when she sees Y/N.

“Hi.” Y/N says with a smile as she looks over at PJ and Josie. “I’m Y/N. I’m friends with Hazel.” She says as she smiles and gestures to Hazel, the statement making Hazel smile.

“We know. You’re in Nymphology.” Josie says as she nods a bit nervously.

“Mhmm.” Y/N says with a nod. “You’re Josie, right?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Josie says as she nods.

“Isabel’s told me about you.” Y/N says with a small giggle, making Josie blush and get a nervous smile on her face as she looks away, clearly worried about the fact Isabel had mentioned her to her bandmates.

“I’m PJ!” PJ quickly says as she stares at Y/N.

“Anyways, um, you should probably go, thanks for the help.” Hazel says quickly as she gathers the papers scattered around them.

“Oh, yeah of course, anytime.” Y/N says with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. It was fun, I’ll see you soon probably.” Hazel says as she quickly gets up, immediately nervous and embarrassed again now that PJ and Josie were there.

“If you need any more help, let me know. It was nice meeting you guys.” Y/N says to Hazel before turning and smiling to PJ and Josie as she walks out, shutting the door behind her after waving bye.

“What the fuck?” PJ says in shock as her and Josie immediately look at Hazel, who was now heavily blushing as she fiddles with the shirt she was wearing.

I genuinely love writing this story its sm fun. I love Hazel she's so cute. Also I fr have no clue how record label stuff works so I'm kinda just pulling this out of my ass lmao. I'm like "yeah I watched Daisy Jones and The Six and can google basic steps for this, good enough" and then just hoped it would be accurate dfdhsfkjhej. dividers from @saradika and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more graphic made by me lol