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sensei-venus · 5 months

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Baby Issues- (Poly! Demetri/Yasmine/Chubby!Reader)

(Unedited) (Yasmine being Yasmine, Strange Dreams, Pregnant Reader Mentioned, Demetri Sarcastic, Sweet Reader, Mention of Moon/Hawk) ( @gemini-sensei )

“Awe Yas don’t act like that! Isn’t he the cutest little baby you have ever seen?!” Reader gushed as she held the newest member of the Moskowitz family. She gently bounced the little Moskowitz boy in her arms. He gargled a little and tried to tech for her face. A smile spreed across her lips as she made little sounds at him.

Yasmine rolled her eyes a little and looked over at Demetri. He only gave her a blank look before going back to his conversation with Hawk. Moon gave a small laugh as she watched her friends face turn.

The blond was never great at hiding her emotions and Moon loved that. She always seemed to know what Yasmine was thinking.

“Oh come on now Yas, you’re going to want one of your own soon enough. I can feel it in my bones.”

Yasmine snorted “I think I’m good for the moment. All babies do are eat sleep and poop. Oh and make huge messes, they throw up on you and poop on you and even pee on you! You think I want that right now? Uhh no thanks.” She withered at the thought. Baby’s were a hassle and she wanted no part of it. At least not right now.

Everything seemed to be going so good for her right now.

She was doing great in design school at a very high in college in the area. In a fast track to early graduation from her program. Reader finished her schooling already and was working a nice remote job from home. Demetri was doing great at his start up tech company. He just got a promotion along with a hefty raise. Not to even mention the fact that her parents had paid off the comfortable house they had started to rent but now own after their wedding only about a year ago.

They did not need to be thinking about babies.

————————————————————-

Well that’s what she thought at first.

But days after the trip to Hawk and Moon’s place, it’s all she could think about.

It started the night they got home from the couples house after a very long visit.

Yas had just gotten done with her skin care routine in the bathroom when she walked into their room. Reader was in bed with Demetri talking about the days events. She was wearing her cute little night gown while telling the man all about how cute the baby was. Going on and on about how adorable he was, how she could see a mix of both Moon and Hawk in the little one. It was adorable to see her so worked up over something.

Demetri just sat there with a small smile while listening to her. His eyes half closed as he got more and more tired. Her rambling was quite cute though.

“He was so tiny! He’s a healthy little guy but he felt so small in my arms! I wonder if all babies feel like that?”

“Do you think he eats alot? I know baby’s have tiny stomachs at first and I never asked Moon about it. She probably knows that stuff better than I do.”

“Do you think we should get them a baby basket or something? I know we got them stuff when we went to the baby shower but who knows. Maybe they already need more diapers and wipes- oh what about clothes? Should we get them more clothes?”

The comments just continued for the rest of the night until the lights finally turned off and they all fell asleep.

But then Yasmine’s dreams started to get weird everytime she fell asleep. Dreams of random things, stupid dreams, funny dreams, sweet dreams, all of those were gone. Replaced by ones of Reader. Weird dreams, in Yas’s opinion, that were never brought up in her mind before.

“He’s kicking, Yas feel!” Reader giggled while reaching out for Yasmine’s hand. Demetri was already by her side feeling her belly. Yasmine’s eyes grew wide as she looked at her wife. Her once chubby and soft belly was now round and hard. Popping out in the nice dress she was wearing. Demetri grinned as his hand creased her tight belly. Yas’s hand was pulled over to be placed on Reader’s belly. Her cheeks grew red at the strange feeling.

For a moment in time she could swear she felt something move under the skin.

“I can’t wait to meet him. I can’t wait for us to finally get me out son.”

Yasmine woke up with a slight gasp. Her eye lids shot open. She rolled over, looking towards where her husband and wife were sleeping next to her. The darkness of the room hide them from her but she knew they were there. With no hesitation her hand quickly scanned over the body next to her.

Soft skin drifted under her finger tips, soft rolls over the belly she traces. She could feel the way Reader softly breathed under her fingers.

Her fingers soon dug ever so lightly into the soft belly of her wife.

Nothing stuck out to her, no hardness, no bump.

No movement of any kind.

Her eyes fluttered back closed.

————————————————————

Yasmine gripped at the tiny tin foil packet that she grabbed from the bathroom cabinet. She flipped it around a little. There were already multiple small punches in the foil. Multiple pills already gone from the days before.

The sound of feet walking though the bedroom echoed into the bath. They stopped at the doorway, a voice filled the room.

“Oh are you looking for your birth control pills? I think they are next to mine in there. I think those are mine.” Reader said sweetly as she entered the big bathroom. Yasmine held herself back from almost dropping the small tin. She nodded before stuff the tin back into the cabinet. She didn’t even look at the other girl as she flees the bathroom.

Reader watches in confusion as she leaves.

She didn’t even take her own pills with her.

—————————————————————

“Why would you even think that!?” Yasmine screeched from her side of the bed. She had basically cocooned herself in one of their blankets at this point. She almost hissed at the other two people in the room.

“Babe you have been acting strange for weeks now. We just want to know what’s wrong with you.” Demetri replied as he sat on the edge of the bed. Reader slowly moved to roll over on the bed and lay next to the girl.

“Yas you have been so…unfocused the past few weeks that it has us worried. We can’t even have sex without you acting all weird about it. We just want to know what’s wrong.”

“She has been acting weird, especially during sex…” Demetri mumbled.

Minutes passed in a long silent pause.

Something seemed to click in Reader’s mind.

“Yasmine….do you want to have a baby?” Her words were filled with pure curiosity. A new look of interest crossed her face. She smiled as Yasmine retreated even further back into her little blanket cocoon. Face fully a blazed by now.

Demetri pulled himself onto the bed more, resting by Yasmine’s feet. With a brow raised he looked to Reader saying “Yasmine? Wanting a baby? Wasn’t she just saying she didn’t want one, especially right now just a few weeks ago when it was brought up?” Yasmine couldn’t take it anymore. The constant talking and false ideas were starting to get to her.

“It’s not me! I don’t want have a baby! I want Reader too! I want Reader to get pregnant okay! Why do the both of you have to be so dumb, especially you, you stupid nerd!” Yasmine screamed and rolled over. She shoved her face into one of the pillows. She wanted to scream right now. She had just confessed one of her deepest secrets. One of her deepest ideas that she had been struggling with for almost a month now. Thats all she wanted right now.

She wanted to see Reader all swollen with Demetri’s baby. She wanted to hold THEIR baby. She wanted to see Reader coo and baby talk their little one and not the Moskowitz kid.

She just wanted their baby.

“Is that really what all of this has been about? You want me to get pregnant?” Reader said ever so softly as she cuddled into the girls side. Demetri was quick to do the same. He crawled across the bed as wrapped an arm around the two women. His long arms stretched to pull them both in, Yasmine groaned as she was pulled up out of her small ball. A grin fell on his lips as she looked down at her.

“You want me to get Reader pregnant?”

“Don’t you even fucking start.”

“Yasmine I’m being serious about this. Is this really why you have been acting so funny?” Demetri said in a serious tone. His eyes where trained on hers, love and affection where the only things he gave off. No humors tone no judgment filled their voices as they looked for her real answer.

There was no hiding the truth anymore. Reader had hit the nail on the head.

“Maybe. Okay yes, that’s why. All I keep thinking about is Reader having our baby. Ever since we went over to see the Moskowitz baby it’s the only thing I have been able to think about. At first I didn’t want a baby. Mostly because baby’s are a lot of work and I was a little scared and also we have all been doing so well recently. Wool and school and been doing so great for all of us, a baby would complicate all of that for us. But then I started really thinking about it.” She paused before going on. “What if we CAN have a baby? What if this is actually the perfect time for us to have one? We have money, a home, time, we could do it. I just know we can.”

She unraveled herself from her blanket and sat up.

“I keep thinking of Reader holding our baby too and I love it. I can’t stop thinking about how much we would love them. How well taken care of they would be with us as their parents. I know Reader would be such a good mama and Demetri would be such a good daddy too.”

Reader held the girl tighter “You know you would be a great mom too right.” She giggled a little.

“So we should start trying for a baby then?” Demetri remarked which caused Yasmine to hit him softly in the chest. He groaned a little and backed off.

“Don’t even try to start something with me right now.”

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rogueshadow1124 · 1 month

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RESTLESS NIGHTS

[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]

Dick grayson x Vigilante!Reader

Summary: Ever since the reader had a run in with the scarecrow one evening, she couldnt let go of the image she got under the influence of the fear gas- her worst fear - losing her beloved.

Word count: 955

Warnings: mentions of blood/slight death.

The rain spattered against the window pane, creating a low and soft thumping sound that was almost calming. Y/N lay in bed, eyes barely open but struggling to close while her boyfriend was asleep peacefully beside her- how she envied him in this moment. She wanted to sleep, even more so needed to sleep, she was tired but restless at the same time, she didnt want to fall into the same nightmare she did everytime she closed her eyes because everything seemed too real. It was like a warning really.

A sigh escaped her throat, emitting into the silence of the room. Her head turned to the right, catching a glimpse of the digital clock beside her that lit up in an voluminous red colour. 1:30am was what shone on the small screen, she had been laying in the same position for hours. She should be thankful Dick was next to her and asleep because neither of them got to spend this kind of moment together or even remotely fall into a slumber with their daily rounds of the night patrols that were set for them.

Y/N placed her hands on eiether side of her thighs and pushed up so she was now sat against the headboard. Her Y/E/C orbs trailed around the messy room, switching between every object in her eyeline. Her mind went elsewhere, flicking back to the time where everything was supposedly easier, not normal but easier.

Then her thoughts drifted to something that wasnt so nice. The nightmares that haunted her daily and nightly. It had all started when she was on night watch with Dick one night, they ran into Scarecrow and she was put under his fear gas. Everything seemed too real in that moment, the blood that stained her hands, Dicks blood to be exact. She watched him die and she couldnt do anything about it, all she did was hold his deceased body in her arms as she sobbed and begged for him to come back.

Though it was only an image that was engraved into her mind by some mere chemicals mixed together, she couldnt shake off the thought of something like that actually happening because it was more than possible. When she finally came back to reality that night she didnt speak a word to Dick who was trying to console her broken aura, she ignored him and ran straight to the bathroom locking herself inside.

Her eyes deceived her as she continued to see the blood that covered her body in the mirror, her mind was playing games with her but at the time she had no clue. She was inconsolable. She spent what felt like hours inside the shower, scrubbing harshly at her sensitive skin making it peel and burn- that was until Dick grew worried and came to her rescue before she caused any harm to herself.

"Babe..." A hoarse voice spoke from her right, bringing her back to reality. Her head tilted down to see her boyfriend hugging her waist, his head burried in her stomach as he looked up at her with his deep blue hues.

"Hey bub." Y/N whispered tiredly, letting out a small yawn as she brought her hands up to rub at her eyes.

"Why are you still awake?" His raven locks stuck in every direction making the girl chuckle slightly and smooth it out as he started to sit up beside her against the headboard.

"Couldnt sleep." She leant over, head falling into Dicks chest. He raised a hand and ran it through her hair, humming while he yawned in response to her statement. His fingers stroked lighty on her scalp in a calm manner, running through the length of her unruly Y/H/C hair.

"Y'look tired baby." Dicks half lidded eyes peered down, taking in her sleepy for though he tell she was forcing herself to stay awake and it wasnt the first time she did, he remembers how she had done this on many occasions after the incident when everything became to much for her to handle. "Why dont you try sleep, m'here."

"I-I cant Dick, I close my eyes and all I see is the same scene infront of me only this time I cant interact I have to watch it happen over and over again." Her voice cracked slightly, head pushing further into the warmth of his chest. Her hands came to rest where his heart would be, running over he clothed skin.

"I'm not going anywhere Y/N/N-"

"You dont know that Dick. What about when were on patrol and something goes wrong, just like my nightmares? Or maybe I wont be there and you disappear, I dont want to be alone. I-I love you and you can call me selfish but I'd rather die protecting you then allow you to die at the hands of someone when I'm not there." She breathed out heavily, a single tear strolled down the perimeter of her cheek as she continued to run a hand over his chest as if she was making sure he was still there.

"I'm never going to leave you behind baby and I most certainly wont let any harm come to you. Ever." He pulled her quivering form into his bigger one, cradling her like a child as she let out another sob, sniffling. "Try and sleep. S'only a few hours before we need to be up anyway."

Y/N hummed, nodding into his shoulder. She moved so her body was practically ontop of his, her arms tucked into her chest just above his stomach where she curled up as much as she possibly could, seeking comfort.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #x reader #vigilante #batboys #nightwing #gotham

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lucyglassesstuff · 7 months

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I want to write a story and I'm looking for help!

Hi! Hello! How are you? Are you a writer? A reader? A random human being who just got across this post?

Either it's fine. I'm all of them myself.

The important thing here is that you may be interested in helping me write a story (and possibly become friends who help each other write).

But what does that intel, stranger who wrote this post?

Glad you asked. I'd love to tell you.

Since the very very beginning of my consciousness I've wanted to tell stories. I'd even go to the extent of saying it is the first thing I remember wanting. And, of course, I've been trying to do so ,but everytime I'm in the midst of it, this thought of maybe having someone to talk to comes to me, someone to discuss the plot with and just- You know, share ideas for scenes and schemes and lines. I think it could be fun and helpful.

But to do that I need someone who's also intrested in telling stories and going through the long ass journey that putting them together intells.

I'm not looking for professionals or masters or anything fancy, just- people with passion.

So far, for my part, I've got a vague idea for what the first chunk of my story is, a plot line (with a shit ton of wholes that I'm trying to fill but somehow keep on happening) ,some characters (the two main ones and about three more) and- And some random little snippets of scenes that go through my head.

Oh and I'm currently writing fantasy. I'm a sucker for fantasy. And for romance.

This collaboration could be for you if:

- You have cool scene ideas (that you're lowkey obsessed with) living rent free in your head but you have no world or characters for them to happen in.

- You're a storytelling geek.

- You like fantasy and romance books.

- You're looking for opinions and help with your own story.

- You'd like to be a writer and, like me, would like to somewhat co-write a story with someone else.

I don't think I'm anything even remotely close to impressive when it comes to writing, but I really do love it. And I'm lowkey attached to my idea of who the characters of my story are, but I think everything is up for some editing at this point in time. In my head we can discuss our ideas and get to something that's good.

Just so you get an idea of the extent of my abilities, here's some of what I've wrote:

"...I don't think it comes down to preferences."

Alora lifted her eyes from the grilled lamb on the table to the man across. The conversation had been taking place for a long while now, but the tone of his last response had been abrupt enough to quiet the people sitting at the table.

"I’d say that is exactly to what it would be narrowed down, wouldn't it?” Queen Elam mused, reaching for her glass of wine “Love is based on preferences”

"Love?" The man asked, spitting the word as if it was an insult. Alora didn't know his name, but she knew he belonged to Koen's court, who seemed to be growing ever so slightly tense at the exchange.

"It's important for any magic, Jekari," the woman next to her hummed. The table had grown so silent that Alora could clearly hear the sound of the wine inside the Queen's cup as she made it swirl in her hand "Even the link needs it."

Her tone had been so subtle Alora almost didn't catch it, but she knew those last words were meant for her, not the man. And she couldn't help herself but to blink as her head turned slightly towards the Spring Kingdom's Queen. No one said anything after that, but she felt more than a few pairs of eyes landing on them.

Elam turned to watch her too, sipping her wine one last time before putting it down. After a second of scrutiny, one of her brows lifted "Oh my- You didn't know, child?"

Alora wasn't too sure of what she meant by that. That magic needed love? That sounded about as absurd as everything else she had been told, and yet everything had proven to be true. So she assumed this also was a nonsensical fact about this place.

But no. She hadn't known.

And then again, what did she know, really?

"It wasn't that long ago I learned who I am" she said plainly, eyes studying the golden liquid inside the Queen's cup before taking them to her masked expression "There are a lot of things I still don't know"

The Queen contemplated her for a small second before nodding once with a soft smile "You’re right," she paused, taking a pointed look to the people sitting at the table "and it is something we all need to be reminded of, anyway. " Her eyes lingered over sir Jekari for a few moments, then she took them back to Alora "As our link to the divine, you'll need to choose a counterpart to inherit the other half of it." She made a pause, as if considering her own words "But the choice must be made based on your heart's desire. Because magic needs love."

She didn't need to look at the princes seated at the table for Alora to know her options were limited.

So... yeah. That's how it looks like when nothing intresting is happening. Just good ol' "this is whats happening" type of narration. I thought it wouldn't be fair to lure you with action when what I'm trying to show is the narrative style.

But anyway, I hope it wasn't too confusing. I've read it so many times I'm no longer capable of discerning whether it's shitty or if it's readable.

And if somehow that was to your liking, what you'll need to apply is:

- A presentation. Either here in the comment section or a private message.

Things you can cover: Who are you? Why do you want to be a part of this collaboration? What are your favorite books? What kind of story do you want to tell or are trying to tell? What are your biggest struggles when it comes to writing (the writing part, the dialogs, descriptions, plotting, character arcs, etc) ? Why?

But of course, feel free to add any banter about you you'd like. The more I know about you, the better.

I'll go first.

I'm Lucía, I'm 20, and I want to tell stories because historically, throughout my life, stories are the only place where I feel real, where I feel seen.

I'm an absolute nerd about storytelling techniques and I've got some basic knowledge on them. I love TV series, movies, books, webtoons, anime... all that that can be a mean to tell a story.

When it comes to books specifically tho, my favorite saga it's Throne of Glass, by Sarah J. Maas. And amongst those, the third one, Heir of Fire. If you read them, that's my kinda jam.

I want to tell the story of a strong ass character (maybe not strong in the way most of them are: by being an absolute menace with weapons. But you know, knowing how to properly stab someone is always a good thing... Sort of) and I absolutely must root for an enemies to lovers trope. With lots of banter and smart characters. Super smart. And I've got no actual idea how to achieve that with my level of IQ, but oh well, confidence and desire make you delusional, so I'd say I can figure it out. I want a story of epic fantasy and adventure, with maybe a bit of politics sprinkled on top. And pain and gore. Not too much tho, but y'know, a protruding bone has always brought some good drama to a scene.

And then what was next? Oh, yeah. I think my biggest biggest struggle is plotting so much I start confusing myself. The story could go in so many directions I have a hard time committing to just one and I'm left in an analysis paralysis that has me changing a story that hasn't even been written every two days.

The writing on itself it's sometimes close to good, sometimes an insult to the english language. There's no in-between.

And I guess my biggest joy is dialog. I enjoy making up conversations A LOT. Now, if they're good or not it's a topic I feel unqualified to give an unbiased opinion on.

And then there's the rest of random stuff about me you can also add to your presentation (I kinda really enjoy knowing this stuff) So, if you care to keep reading: I'm a Taurus sun, moon and mercury, with an Aries venus. I'm an INFP in the MBTI personality test and a 9w1...or was it w8? Either way, a 9, in the enneagram personality test. I'm a Slytherin in every test I've ever taken except the one from The Wizarding World, where I was Ravenclaw. It was never clear to me what type of bender I'd be, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be from the fire nation.

I'm a cat person, tho I do love doggies too, and I have a weird fascination with birds.

I prefer chocolate over candies, and pasta over meat.

Aaaand, I think that's about it.

Oh and also, I'm offering my own help and collaboration for your stories, if you want it.

I guess I'm sort of just looking for friends who are also writers...

Either way, if you're interested on my request, please know I don't bite people I just met.

Oh and I speak Spanish. And not in a duolingo type of way. Spanish is my default setting. And since you're reading this I'm assuming you speak English, but if you also speak both, and you're more comfortable in Spanish, we can switch.

Okay. I think I'm done now.

If you have any further questions, feel free to make them.

If you're just going off, have a great day, stranger.

Talk to me if you're intrested. *insert suggestive winking*

#amateur writing #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #story #storytelling #writing adjacent #writterscommunity #who knew there were so many hashtags #im looking for help #idk what else to put here #have a nice day

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hansolmates · 3 years

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distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚

It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing.

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing.

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did.

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.”

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more?

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently.

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?”

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.”

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied.

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck?

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice.

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore.

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend.

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.”

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week.

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts.

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid.

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted.

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck.

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point.

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost.

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.)

“Fuck, Hobi!”

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool.

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood.

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.”

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough?

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought…

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse.

He hates this.

You hate this.

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later.

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all.

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him.

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he.

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you.

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back.

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed.

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting.

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me ☠️ what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white?

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response.

[12:09] Jungkook: ???

You frown, wondering what you said wrong.

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out

[12:10] You: why?

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny.

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes.

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you.

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?”

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.”

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.”

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you.

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back.

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!”

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest.

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic.

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door.

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.”

“Well then, can you relay a message?”

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?”

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.”

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.”

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.”

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers.

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.”

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident.

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep.

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty.

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family.

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll…

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television.

You don’t reply until very late into the night.

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten.

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry.

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short.

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face

[10:16] Jungkook:

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed.

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy.

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat.

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too.

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :(

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off.

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin.

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable.

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically.

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough.

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt.

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm.

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!”

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start.

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s.

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen.

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok.

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder.

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes.

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you.

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms.

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies.

“It’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.”

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton.

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—”

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait.

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?” he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day.

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously.

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees.

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good.

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.”

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick.

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum.

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.”

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure.

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely.

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?”

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle.

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger.

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm.

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.”

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?”

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb.

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment.

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.”

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips.

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair.

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch.

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty.

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving.

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?”

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!”

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.”

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions.

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric.

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.”

It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion.

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—”

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on.

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight.

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.”

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board.

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.”

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order.

bonus.

“So.”

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair.

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt.

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!”

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?”

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.”

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words.

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?”

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory.

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest.

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsguild #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic

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broadstflyers · 3 years

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A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic! It's really just an idea I've had for months, and then wrote, and then couldn't figure out which hockey boy it fit, until some mutuals were kind enough to help. I settled on our boy Barzy! It's inspired by Taylor Swift's "Gold Rush", and I really wanted to do my best in reflecting the beautiful imagery this story creates for me. I hope I did it justice. It's a little terrifying putting my writing out there, but I hope people enjoy it!

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Two curse words, it's really just internal conflict within the reader

Summary: You're celebrating your dad's 50th birthday with some friends and family at a dinner party. You happen to land your eyes on a beautiful stranger, who you can't seem to get out of your head. You spend the rest of the night wondering, should you go up to him?

Or do you let him walk out the door?

___________

They say when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, time stands completely still. As you gaze into their eyes, it feels as though you’ve known them for multiple lifetimes. It feels like home. Is that even remotely true?

You start to take a sip of your drink and turn your head slightly to take in your surroundings. Your eyes dance around the room, until they stumble upon another pair of wondering eyes. Your eyes lock, and you’re instantly sucked into the mysterious yet intriguing twinkling grey-blue color that compliments his navy blue suit. Suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat, every part of your body stiffens, except for your lips that part slightly and eyes that widen. The drink is long forgotten, you’re even struggling to keep it from practically falling out of your hands and onto the wooden floor. The party is now just a blur, the noise? What noise? The world is muffled, as if someone stuck your head into a hundred pillows. Images stream through your mind like an endless movie reel wrapped in shimmery gold. Endless laughter on a first date over coffee. Him rubbing the back of your hand as you take a stroll through the park. Holiday mornings, exchanging gifts. Would he participate in the tradition of opening small gifts first, or would he want the biggest gift right off the bat? Ice skating and him catching you as you stumble on a pesky track in the ice. Him tossing you into the pool while you’re trying to put up a fight in a losing battle. A sweet and quiet proposal where he promises his forever love. A kiss at the altar in front of all your friends and family. Chasing after rambunctious little kids trying to get them to nap. All these gold dripping images of a pure love plow through your brain. Your heart is the unmovable object. They are the unstoppable force.

You and him only shared a look for what was probably half a second, but the thick air that seemed to only be affecting you made time feel like it stood completely still.

You burst back into reality with the help of a slight head shake. “Woah,” you quietly whisper. You blink a few times and finally get around to taking a sip of your drink to quench your parched throat. Did you just see a whole future...with a stranger?

“Hey, are you okay?” Stella asks. Her hand gently touches your arm as she cocks her head to the side. Her brows are furrowed in what can only be described as pure confusion. Did you really space out that badly as she was talking? What were you guys even talking about?

“Oh,” you say as you gently shake your head, “yeah.” You chuckle, “yeah, I’m just fine.” You wait a beat then say, “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she nods. “Do you need me to come with?”

“I’m totally fine, I promise,” you reassure with every bone in your body while giving her your drink. You really just needed to be alone to calm your racing mind that has now turned a complete stranger into a romantic interest with the power of a golden montage.

You make your way over to the exit of the dining hall and push the creaky open with your shoulder, and the amount of force you had to use honestly hurt. Your heels click down the tiled hallway of the golf club to find the bathroom door. The rectangular bathroom mirror framed in an intricate gold design holds your reflection. You slightly tilt your head as you take a look at your face. It’s like someone took the color of a clown nose and colored in your face with it. Jeez. You shake your head and sigh. This isn’t good, and deep down, you know that. You hate when you’re like this, all flustered over someone who just happened to lock eyes with you. His eyes. They were gleaming and just all around beautiful. What were you thinking again?

Oh, right.

Well, it’s pretty obvious he has this power over you, and you don’t like that. Now is your face going to become red everytime you see him? You check your phone. There’s still two hours left, plenty of time to possibly see him again. You can’t tell if that’s necessarily a good or bad thing.

You pace around the bathroom trying to reason with your begging heart. He was pretty good looking, which means that so many people naturally want him. Who was he even talking to, anyways? You gasp and stop in your tracks, blood running cold. “He was talking to a girl,” you mumble. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sound completely and utterly crushed. In the heat of the moment, you completely failed to realize the blonde standing next to him. You lean over the counter, the cold marble feeling on your arms making your arms break out in goosebumps. You take one last stern look in the mirror at your face. “See, this is why we can’t allow ourselves to fall that hard,” you whisper angrily, “everyone wants him, and I just...I don’t like a gold rush like that.” You shake your head again and take one last deep breath to shake out any other thoughts. You can see yourself standing barefooted at the bottom of a hole looking astounded at how tall the walls have grown, and how distant the light looks. It feels like you soared lightheartedly into the sky, just to fall and crush every bone in your body.

You roll your eyes to yourself while slightly cursing yourself out. Pushing the bathroom door open, you step out into the hallway and make a beeline back for the dining hall. Your purse starts spastically vibrating, so you hastily fish your phone out to put an end to the obnoxious noise. Scanning the text, you read that your mom is asking where you went, as the cake for your dad’s birthday is going to be cut soon. You sigh as you text, “I’m hurrying back now.”

That’s all you see before you feel a slight brush tickle your bare shoulder. Your eyes don’t dare move from your phone screen. You reason that it’s not someone you know, as they would have said something to you. Your hands shake as you put your phone back in your purse.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice trails off as he continues to walk down the hallway after he brushed up against you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, without turning around, which is admittedly ridiculous.

As soon as you can judge his footsteps are far away enough, you make a quick glance behind to see if it really was him. And judging by the navy blue suit, it was.

Suddenly, the golden montage flows through your mind once more, showing an image of yourself wearing an old shirt of his, maybe one from when he was in high school for whatever sport he played, if he played one. Your feet feel the coolness of the wooden floor of the supposed home. The home both of you share? It’s so tangible, so real that you almost reach out to touch it. It’s right there...

Your head jerks yourself out of the vision once more, or rather the fact that you’re now faced with a white wall in front of you. You sigh a long frustrated sigh. I can’t believe I really walked by the entrance, how embarrassing, you think as you turn on your heels to backtrack. Why does this stranger have you so wrapped around his finger? No one else has been able to even come close to doing that. You feel your face with your hand, and it’s burning. I’ll go in there looking like a tomato, it’s fine.

You do your best to quite literally shake off those thoughts as you push open the dining room hall door. “There you are!” your mom says. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we’re going to sing happy birthday to Dad.”

“Can’t wait,” you beam. After all, your dad only turns 50 once, and this night is about him, afterall. You follow your mom to a table with a white tablecloth resting on it.

Stella pops out from behind your dad to approach you and whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You resist the urge to gently shove her in front of everyone. “Yes,” you pleadingly insist, “now stop asking me in front of Mom and Dad, they’ll think something is wrong.”

She side eyes you with an attitude. “Fine.”

“They’re my girls,” your dad says with a smile.

You and Stella laugh while leaning into him for a quick hug. “Hey dad,” you both say in unison.

The room completely dies down, people could hear a pin drop. “Ready?” your mom asks the guests. The room takes a collective deep breath.

And so the melody of Happy Birthday rings joyously through the hall, you can see the mystery stranger out of the corner of your eye. Heat radiates off your skin, it’s almost like you can feel his eyes boring into you. It takes all the willpower you can muster, but you resist the temptation to look over at him all throughout the song.

When the song is over, the room breaks out into obnoxiously loud clapping. You, Stella, and your parents share loving looks and warm smiles.

Eventually, everyone proceeds to return to normal chatter at the one rectangular table of two that they’re sitting at, and so do you, Stella and your parents.

You pull out your seat next to your sister near the middle of the middle of the table and sit, fixing your dress.

“Ahem,” Stella says in an ill attempt to cover her suspiciousness with a clearing throat noise. Queue whatever accusatory question she’s got.

“Let me just set something straight,” she starts.

“Go for it,” you say as you reach for some water.

“It’s definitely that guy a few seats down, isn’t it?” She smirks. She’s got you trapped in her little web, and she knows it.

You may or may not have fought back choking on your water or pulling a ridiculous spit take on the nice white table cloth.

You lean in and harshly whisper, “Well you didn’t have to say it that loudly.” You glance over at the mystery stranger and see his hand wrapped around his glass as he goes to drink it. He has a thick silver ring on his pointer finger?

“Hello?” Stella shifts her head to selfishly cut off your view of him.

“Okay,” you sigh in defeat, “yes it’s him. Happy?”

“Very,” she says, very satisfied because she finally pried it out of you and got you to admit it. Someone else has you wrapped around their finger. She didn’t even have to know all the details of the montages to know. She could tell by the way your eyes glossed over and how your lips would slightly part like you were in a hazy daydream.

And you were.

“Who is he anyway? And why don’t we know him?” You ask.

“I don’t know, honestly. A little strange, isn’t it? Why don’t you ask mom who he is?” She suggests, but her cheshire smile suggests that she will somehow find out, with or without your mom’s help.

“But mom’s going to absolutely harass me until I say something to him. Just you on my tail is enough,” you say with an eyebrow raised as to say ‘don’t test me.’ And Stella knows you’re right.

“Alright, fine,” she concedes, “But why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to him?”

“I did,” you nonchalantly float.

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an “O” from disbelief. Did you really not talk to people that much?

“Really?” she practically squeals.

“Yeah, he brushed by me and said, ‘Sorry’ so I said, ‘It’s okay.’” Okay, now you get why your friends and family get mad at you for refusing to talk to people. But cracking this joke was one you could not pass up.

Her face scrunches up and she exhibits the biggest eye roll you have ever seen. She opens her mouth to start saying something, probably to scold at you, but you open your mouth to cut her off first.

“Alright no, I haven’t. And do you know why?” As you’re about to get your thought out, you’re interrupted by a fit of laughter down the stretch of the table. Your eyes scan but freeze on the stranger, whose nose is adorably scrunched up as he laughs with multiple, yes multiple, people about goodness knows what. And there’s that other blonde that you still don’t know, laughing with him. You tear your stare away and focus back on your sister.

“Look, that right there. That’s why,” you say, anger burning through your chest.

Stella raises an eyebrow in her own judgemental manner. “He talks to people? You know people do that right?”

Now it’s your turn to return the favor of a judgemental eye roll. “No, Stella, I mean just look at him and the people he’s surrounded by. It’s so obvious that everyone wants him. Just look at that girl with him. I’m not the only one who wants to love him.”

Silence ensues between you two. She picks up her phone and shoots a quick text. After a moment she says, “Well, I think if you just talked to him, you’d be pleasantly surprised with what could happen. I have to help mom with distributing gift bags. You stay here,” she instructs.

You can only assume you’re not being called to help because Stella graciously told your mom that you’re potentially working up the courage to talk to someone that’s not one of your three friends or your family. How generous of her.

A few friends of your dad stop by your seat to say goodbye before they head out. The noise slightly dies down enough to scarcely hear some other conversations. You hear nothing out of the ordinary, just a girl talking about getting into her dream school to some guy. Your ears slightly move as you pick up on a voice that sounds like the one in the hallway earlier.

“Yeah dude, but did you see the fake out on the goalie on the second goal? That had to have been the best part.”

Out of instinct you open your mouth to interject, but quickly shut it and put it under lock and key. You blink in disbelief. Hockey? Did this man just speak on hockey?

You circle the rim of the coffee cup and stare at the brown liquid. In a different universe…

In a different universe you would have actually kept your mouth open, and maybe even squeezed some words out, too.

“Actually, that seamless stretch pass down the neutral zone from the defenseman after a pretty difficult forecheck set up the play pretty well. I’d give him a lot of credit, too.”

He’d probably look a little shocked, as do most guys when you interject your two-sense about hockey. But maybe he’d break out into a small smile and offer a rebuttal. Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe one day…

Maybe one day you’ll be sitting next to him on the couch, watching a game while cuddling and brushing the hair out of his face. Oh who are you kidding, you’ll be up and screaming at the TV. It’s your staple.

A noise of someone dropping something behind you slightly startles you and pulls you out of your once again golden daydream. You finally stop mindlessly circling the rim of your coffee cup to take a sip, but only to find it’s now ice cold.

This is why you hate looking through a pair of rose colored glasses. It distracts you from enjoying things. You glance over at your dad who’s still talking to one of his good friends that lingered after festivities. You’re supposed to be celebrating him right now, but instead you’re literally stuck in this cursedly pure golden daydream that is almost too good to break.

You can see him. He’s still there, at the end of the table, chatting away with some dude. The blonde left at some point, though.

“Well, I gotta head out, man, good to see you. My sister needs help with packing her stuff for college tomorrow, so we’ve got a busy day coming up.”

Could that girl have been his sister?

“Congratulations to her on getting into her dream school by the way,” the guy says. “I talked to her when she was here earlier, and she seemed super excited.”

A wave of cool relief washes over your body, remembering the conversation about college you picked up on earlier. It was his sister.

“Yeah she is, she worked really hard, and it also involved a whole lot of crying,” he chuckles.

Ain’t that right, you think to yourself.

The table shakes as he pushes out of his chair. Your eyes remain glued to your coffee cup no matter how much you want them to move. You just can’t gather the courage to say something, and you’re cursing yourself for it. You don’t want to sit here and dream about him anymore. You want to actually let these things happen, for once. You want to just unleash all these swirling and sickeningly sweet emotions from your body and drown him in it. You want so badly to leap up and say something, anything. Step on those voices taunting you and mocking you saying that it could never happen, it could never be so it will never be. He’s so inviting that you can’t resist any longer. You go to reach out to him, but the door shuts before you know it.

And just as fleeting as he came,

He’s gone.

Fuck. It feels as though a brick is sitting on your chest, suffocating you. You really let your worries control you, and this time it feels as though you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You just can’t believe you let it happen when your mind was begging you to talk to him. You always do-

“Shit,” you mumble. In your frustration, you knocked over the remnants of the coffee onto the not-so-white-anymore table cloth. Tears prickle up in your eyes, your throat closes, and your nose begins to sting. You quickly swallow these emotions down your throat and begin to use a napkin to soak up the excess coffee. Drinks have really not been your friend tonight.

For the first time, you notice as you clean that it’s just you left in the room, besides a few people cleaning up on the other end. You’re not sure where your family has gone, but you haven’t received any texts prompting you to leave yet. It’s so silent that you can hear some muffled chatter down the hall.

Suddenly, you hear the same creak of the door open with an “oof” that doesn’t quite sound like your dad. Your blood runs cold and you freeze mid press into the tablecloth. You glance up without turning around to see a lone jacket hanging on a chair suspiciously close to the chair he previously sat in. Your eyes widen and dart around the room, but you dare not move, waiting to see what he does. Even after cursing yourself out for ten minutes while cleaning up spilled coffee, you still haven’t learned to make the first move. His presence feels like a forcefield, you can feel it heavily pressing into your back.

But he isn’t moving to grab the jacket, no.

A pointer finger with a silver ring taps your shoulder.

“Hey,” the clarity of his voice rings in your ears like a bell. Your heart is racing so fast that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage and run its own 10k. You slowly crank your head around to meet his eyes for the first time-- face to face.

And you must say, his face is really pretty when you actually talk to him face to face. Maybe you should do this more often. You take in his golden features, and struggle to hide a small smirk creeping up on your face. His messy hair falls perfectly into place on his head, and his kind face makes you feel as though a mess of metallic gold swirls are playfully swirling and dashing around you both. You’ve found him in this lifetime.

“I’m Mat, can I help you clean up before I grab my jacket?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #mat barzal x reader

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

Text

Dominatrix Barbie

F!Whitney/M!PC

Summary

Whitney loves teasing you. Loves proving exactly how much control she has over your body. Today is no different.

Warnings

Femdom; strapons; orgasm denial; Whitney saying Whitney things; male reader POV

A03

HERE

Word count

2236

"You look pathetic," a feminine voice sneers from somewhere in the room. You're unable to see where the source is, blindfolded, gagged and semi-bound to the bed. Your legs are free, but hands are securely cuffed to the metal headboard, leaving you unable to take care of your painfully hard cock that stands bare and neglected. Whitney had always been rather straightforward with her love of bondage. Whether it was restraining your arms so you couldn't cover your face, or your legs so you couldn't get away when she wanted to ride you over and over, she seemed to get off on your helplessness greatly. Somehow, the blonde had even gotten hold of one of those heavy-duty collars the police used, having slapped it around your neck in the school hallways of all places. It was far from a surprise that she would want you all vulnerable in her own bed.

That's where you were now, spread-eagle over her sheets, with a vibrator taped to your cock. Whitney has the remote, and for the past half an hour she had been watching you almost get off. Everytime you'd get close, she'd turn the stupid thing right down until you couldn't get off anymore. If you tried to stay quiet so that she wouldn't know that you're about to cum she'd turn it off completely and add another five minutes to the time you had to be teased. The only option was compliance. If you want to finish, you do as she says.

You're moaning out, hips gyrating on the bed enough to make your arms pull at the restraints. The buzzing is making your dick pulse, blood flow rushing to the hard length and leaving you a stupid begging slut. You'd beg properly if you could, but of course you're gagged. A ring gag, so that if she sat on your face you could still get her off with your tongue. This is Whitney, of course. Like she'd ever lose the chance of getting oral. You don't get such luxuries, however, and even as that spark of electricity shoots up your spine, even as your moans become whines, you know she won't let you finish. Sure enough, the buzzing dies down. What you don't expect is for it to stop altogether.

"I'm bored. We're doing something else," she announces as she moves from her desk-chair. You're left heaving for air, feeling like you've run a mile without doing any of the leg work. If your limbs weren't bound, you'd try and take care of yourself - but as it is all you can do is writhe around. You make the sheets ruffle, but you can still hear Whitney walking around the room. She's still wearing her heels, the click-clack your only sign that you hadn't been left alone to suffer. You'd heard tales of dommes cruel enough to tie their pets up and leave them alone for hours at a time. You know the blonde is cruel enough to do that, but for some reason she had yet to play out that fantasy.

The sound of heels gets closer to the bed is almost ominous, but a promise at the same time, especially as the mattress dips and a perfectly-manicured hand pushes your knees as far apart as she can.

"You'll love this, slut. Will probably cum so hard you get jizz on your face!" she snickers as the creak of a bottle cap echoes around the room. You jump when a cold liquid hits your perineum, dripping down onto your asshole. Whitney smacks your thigh in response.

"Stay still! Do you want this to go in easy or not?"

For what to go in easy? What is she about to do to you? The thought is interrupted by a finger pushing past the tight ring of muscles, getting knuckle-deep before she starts wiggling it in a "come hither" gesture. You're whining like a whore again, the tip of her finger just grazing your prostate but never providing the stimulation that you need to properly get off. Another digit is added, your breath halting for just a second as you get used to the added stimulation.

"You're drooling all over yourself! God, you're stupid," the blonde laughs, leaning over your body to lick up the saliva leaking from the corner of your mouth. She even takes the opportunity to stuff her tongue into your mouth, before spitting. "Swallow it, bitch."

You do as you're told, gulping down to the best of your ability with the o-ring gag in. The sadistic giggle Whitney let's out is a good sign. You're pleasing her well. A happy Whitney is a merciful one - most days.

Again and again she strokes your inner walls with her fingers, even using her free hand to wipe off a bead of pre-cum from your leaking tip. The vibrator is still taped to the length, but it's unclear if it will be used again tonight.

Without warning, the fingers are removed. It's horrible, to feel so empty - but it's only for a few brief seconds as something thick and hard presses to the rim. Oh fuck she got the strap out. She doesn't leave you waiting, as pretty much immediately she starts to sink in. Inch by inch, it presses in; your back arching from the sheets due to the sheer pleasure. It's exactly the thing you need, the length and width feeling perfect as it stretches you out.

"No cumming until I tell you to!" she grunts out, starting to gyrate her hips against your ass. The strap brushes up against that sweet-spot, making you feel a pressure in the base of your dick - one so good and tantalising. It's not quite enough, not until she man-handles your hips to lift you up and get the right angle. It's only a taste of what's to come, the blonde changing pace so that she pulls out to the tip before roughly pounding the length back inside. Your whines have become high-pitched whimpers, unable to take how it all feels with any kind of dignity.

"Is that good slut? You like how my cock feels?" she has to be smiling right now, a wide grin that spreads ear-to-ear. "I'm going to make you cry for me."

Without warning, she rips off the blindfold, your eyes stinging from the bright light of the room finally entering your retinas. All you can do is blink over and over till it stops hurting. Gradually, everything comes into focus - and you were right, Whitney is grinning. She looks beautiful, hair down and swiped out of her face for once, hands tightly grasping your hips as she pumps into you over and over.

"Hey handsome. You look good like that. Like the desperate whore you are."

Such backhanded praise shouldn't get you off like it does, but here you are, with shocks of electricity shooting up your spine everytime she hits your prostate. You won't last long - can't, it's just so overwhelming and good.

Just a little more, a few more pushes and you'll be able to get off after so long being denied that sweet, sweet pleasure. Maybe she'll allow it this time? If you look up at her with your best pleading eyes will she give it to you?

Of course not. Of course she just pushes in as far as she can and halts all movement. Another giggle escapes her lips, Whitney swiping hair from her face before leaning over to the bedside drawers. She returns with her box of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it.

"Last one. I've got places to be, I can only play with you for so long," she huffs out, a little breathless herself from the effort of fucking you. It's such a relief that this will be over soon - you'll get so cum soon. Whitney can be merciful when she chooses.

The edge you felt from the built up pleasure falls and falls, but trying to get off yourself by rocking on the strap would only get you punished. She would leave you tied up here with the vibe on for hours upon hours, a seemingly never ending round of orgasms that would leave your poor prick feeling raw and sensitive. That would be worse than waiting for that one perfect explosion she was about to give you. Walking home would take double the usual time from how much you'd have to limp to keep the sore flesh rubbing too much against your clothes. Nope. Literal torture and completely not worth the pain. So you lie and wait for her to finish her cig like the good boy you are. You hope she'll call you that; you love when she calls you that.

Ashes drip down from the end of the cig, peppering your stomach with grey. She'd need to replace the sheets due to the mess you've made anyways, so a little ash won't matter. She's so pretty like that, smoke billowing from her perfect lips, tits all perky and round. They look amazing when they jiggle as she fucks you. Closing your eyes, you sigh and relax waiting for Whitney to finish. It almost feels like forever, but it's an intimate forever with her pressed so close, her skin as sweaty as yours, thighs nearly stuck together. One last harsh drag, and she's leaning back over and putting the butt out in her ashtray. She could have used it instead of you, but the blonde loved to humiliate, didn't she?

Leaning back, she wiggles her hips as she trails her nails up your thighs. "Alright, slut. Time to finish you off."

Sighing deeply in relief, you lift your hips for her so it's easier to angle the strap. The ashes roll off your tummy, tumbling on to the sheets below as Whitney bucks up into you with the same harshness as before. Over and over she thrusts, till your eyes roll into the back of your head and once again you're drooling down your cheek. Your jaw hurts, held open unnaturally for so long, but there's no way to ease the ache. Not with the ring that keeps your tongue tasting the metal prying it wide.

The harder she goes, the more your poor flushed dick bobs against your lower stomach, a mess of pre smattering on the skin there with each slap. Every muscle tightens, a tingling sensation spreading up from your lower back signifying that you're getting so, so close. Just a little more, a tiny bit more-

"You want to finish for me? Come on then, my good boy. Cum on my strap, you've earned it," Whitney coos, and all restraint inside you snaps. Spurt after spurt of pent up seed shoots out from your neglected cock, still taped up to the vibrator even if it isn't turned on. Your balls tighten, throbbing in time with the sperm spilling out. Tears stream from the corners of your eyes, a visual representation of the relief you feel. Just as she wanted - she loved when you cried for her. It feels so good, absolutely amazing to have reached your peak, you can't help it!

"There you go, good slut, you look so pretty for me now," Whitney's voice is more gentle than usual, her fingertips trailing up and down your sides as she fucks you through your orgasm. After a few last pushes, she slowly pulls out, leaving you to flop on the bed completely boneless.

There's no time to bask in the afterglow, however, as Whitney goes back to being cold just as quickly as she was nice. One by one, she starts removing everything attached to your body. The tape on your dick hurts, and she rips it off "to just get it over with." Sure, not just because she likes hearing you yelp. Then come the handcuffs, unlocked and left to dangle from the headboard. You do the gag yourself, massaging the muscles there as you sit up and stretch a little. It feels amazing to finally be able to move it around freely. Same with your arms.

Just as you go to get up and get dressed, a hand claws into your cheeks and pulls you to face the blonde.

"What do you say?" she raises an eyebrow - a warning look.

"Thank you, mistress," your voice is hoarse and quiet, but she hears you loud and clear.

"Damn fucking right thank you," she pats your head, then goes back to ignoring you as she gets ready for whatever she's doing. "Oh - you better be back tomorrow. You need to repay the favour."

Nodding in response, you stand on shaky legs. She wasn't looking at you, but you don't have the energy to talk anymore. Orders received, you fumble to put your clothes on and leave her home as quietly as you could. You hadn't met her family yet, she always snuck you inside. Now definitely wasn't the appropriate time.

Once outside, you start heading back home, staying at a slow pace to keep your legs from collapsing. Fucker could have let you recover before sending you out. Throwing one last look over your shoulder, you spot the blonde watching you from her window, another cigarette in hand. Giving you another cheeky grin, she flips you off - and you can't help the laugh that bubbles up. Yeah, that's your girl. You wouldn't change her if you could.

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity whitney

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heavenunderthemoon · 3 years

Note

A fic request for Emily and daughter!! Where you are dating a guy and have not told her and she finds out when she comes to you and your boyfriend making out on the couch

“My mom would kill me if she found out I had a boy over. And then she’d resuscitate me, and then kill me again.” You said with a sigh, scrolling through the movie options on the flatscreen.

Harry gave a low chuckle, throwing another piece of popcorn in his mouth.

Harry. You thought dreamily.

You had known him since you were about twelve, a rather annoying boy in your physical education class. You recalled the various times in which the two of you were captains for your respective teams in that class, the rivalries and the fights that ensued. How long had it taken for the two of you to realize that the hatred stemmed from tiny little crushes on each other? Looking at him now, his curly hair overflowing into his eyes- something you adored because it meant you had an excuse to touch it, moving it out of his eyes- you couldn’t imagine hating him.

The two of you had only begun dating three months ago, your mother still didn’t know. You had planned on telling her the minute it became official, really, you had, but she had gone away on a case that night and you didn’t want to tell her over the phone. So then you postponed for when she would be back, staying up late until her flight landed, making her dinner, telling her that way. But, when she had come back you found the case had been a really difficult one and the wariness on your mother’s face, the pure exhaustion, had your lips sealed.

And it went on. Everytime you meant to tell her was just bad timing - and you needed good timing, because your mother really didn’t like Harry. Alright, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know Harry, she had never event met him, but you knew she wouldn’t like the idea of him. Your mother wanted you to like nice boys, prim and proper boys, smart boys who had crystal clean records and good intentions and Harry was a little far from the mark.

Harry wasn’t a horrible person, you knew that. He was misunderstood, incredibly so. His past wasn’t very kind to him, and he acted out frequently because of it. He likes to read and write and paint (he was rather good at it but he really only painted for you just to see the smile on your face when he did). He got detentions and was caught stealing (clothes for his little sister, and they let him off with a warning). He rode a motorcycle he found in the dump and fixed up himself, and he was a little rough around the edges appearance wise. But damn, was he good to you. He was caring, like the kind of caring where he always walked you home from school, no matter what. He offered you rides on his motorcycle (even bought a pretty helmet that had plastic bunny ears on the top bc you liked bunnies and he thought you would like it), but you refused. If your mother found out you rode a motorcycle you were sure she’d have a heart attack right then and there. And he was kind. Everytime Emily was away he called you to make sure everything was okay, talking as you walked through the house and double checked all the locks, and sometimes even read to you over the phone until you fell asleep. He wrote you poems and slipped them in your textbooks when he held them on the way to class, and he gave you flowers when you least expected them -no occasion, just because.

He was a boy, a boy you loved, and that was enough to make Emily go a little crazy and you knew that so you kept him away. You kept him a secret. Your little secret love, a piece of you, hidden away and locked up tight.

And that was why he was here, at your house on a Thursday evening. Your mother was off on a case, she had only been gone two days and when Harry had called you, asking how you were (he had been home for the past three days, his sister sick with the flu), you told him how much you missed him. Next thing you knew he was showing up on your doorstep with all your favorite snacks and the gesture had you flinging yourself into him, squeezing him tightly. It hadn’t mattered to you that Emily might get mad because how would she even know? She had been gone for two days, which meant she probably wouldn’t be back for at least another one. You and Harry could have this night.

So, despite the uneasiness in your stomach, you let him in.

“She wouldn’t kill me first? Or is she saving the best for last?” He asked thoughtfully, eyes turning to you. Oh you loved when he looked at you like that, a look thrown your way, a look filled with such...trust. Devotion. Love.

You sighed wistfully. “Me first. She’d be beside herself at the very thought that I hid something from her. She hates lying.”

He snorted. “A little rich coming from an FBI agent. Isn’t her job centered around lying?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing a popcorn at him. He was right. Your mother lied as a profession, bluffing that she had more information than she really did, or even lying that she was dead as the two of you foed to Paris. That hadn’t been very fun. She lied all the time. But that was to protect people. You were just protecting yourself.

“I just feel bad. I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you. I just don’t want you to feel her wrath. She’s a lot..you know? She means well she’s just protective.”

Harry didn’t know. He didn’t really get that parents should be protective because he didn’t really have any. Just a dead beat dad that drank himself into a stupor every night and was typically found passed out on the couch. He didn’t get that parents were supposed to love and nurture, and the fact that you had that seemed foreign, but he tried to understand, for you. And you knew that.

He nodded with a frown. “She doesn’t have to protect you from me, though. I would never hurt you. If you ever asked me to go, to leave, all you’d have to do is say the word and I’m gone. But I love you and you love me, our relationship doesn’t concern her.” He wasn’t snippy, just speaking softly, as if not to scare you away because he knew how much you loved Emily and he didn’t want to scare you away by speaking about her badly.

You smiled softly, taking his hand in his. The remote remained abandoned on the table that you had set it upon and he removed the popcorn bowl from his lap, setting it on the table as well, giving you his full attention. “It doesn’t but it also does. She’s my mom, she’s...I don’t know, it’s weird. I shouldn’t need her approval. I don’t. But I want it. I want her to know you, and not just surface level background checks, I want her to know the Harry that I know.”

He scoffed with a smirk. “Oh, you think you know me?” And a twinkle in his eyes showed you a twinge of fear, a fear that maybe you did. That you knew him better than anyone he had ever known. And it was the twinkle that made you nod.

“I do.” You responded confidently, and there was only silence in the room for a small moment. A moment where Harry’s heart was racing, and he was sure it was loud enough for you to hear it, and a moment where you were searching his eyes for an acceptance. Acceptance that he wouldn’t get scared away just because you knew him, knew every part of him, because you knew that it was something he tended to do. He tended to back away when he felt exposed and you were praying that he knew he didn’t have to do that with you.

Finally, he nodded, lips pursing. “Alright. Well then we’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“We?” You asked skeptically, because the thought of him and Emily in the same room had been something you had been trying to avoid for so long.

And he nodded once more. “We. Together. I’ll wear a suit and you can wear that pretty little black dress and I’ll come for dinner. I’ll knock on the door- not ring the bell because that’s a little prentious-“ you giggled and he smiled at the sound. “And I’ll bring her flowers, compliment her home,”

“Compliment her home?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “Well I can’t very well tell her that I’ve been here now can I? Besides, it’s what they do in books. I figure it’s how I’ll make a good impression. And I’ll tell her how very much I adore her daughter.” He set his chin, a blazing look in his eyes, the kind that made you think he might be invincible. One that made you think he could do anything and damn would you follow him to the depths of the earth as long as he had that look.

With newfound confidence, you grinned. “Oh? And just what, pray tell, do you adore about me?” And there was a certain impish tone in your voice that had him smirking mischievously.

He leaned closer, burning his hand up to caress your cheek. “Hmm, well, I love your eyes,” He wiped underneath them, his warm hands making delicious contact with your face. “The way I can literally see into your mind with them. You’re awful at hiding your emotions and just one look into those beautiful little orbs, I know everything I need to know.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer. “What else?”

“I love your lips.” And his finger was tracing the contours of your own, claiming his territory. “How you’re never afraid to speak your mind, those words of passion, or humor, or hatred tumbling from your plump lips, ones that I very much like to kiss.” And he bent down and pecked you, lingering just a moment longer to nibble on your bottom lip.

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as you forced them back open. “Is that all?”

He had that god awful smirk on his face and you forced yourself to look away. “Everything about you, baby. Your wit, your determination, your compassion,” and with each word he was peppering your jaw with a kiss and finally you gave out, grabbing his face in yours and crashing your lips onto his. He was grinning into the kiss, savoring his victory but not for long. You wouldn’t let him win.

You flipped positions, pushing him slightly and straddling the boy. Your lips were ferocious against his, a mess of passion and intensity and his hand was going to your sides, sliding under your shirt and running upward. Everywhere he touched was set instantly on fire and you moaned into his lips.

And just as you were about to take it a step further, the door opened. You flew off the boy, landing onto your ass with a groan. Harry was springing upward, readjusting his hoodie and hair, though it was no use. Your hands had gone rampant through his curls and it would take an actual brush to fix it. Both of your lips were swollen from your previous activities, clothes a bit ruffled, and the look on Emily’s face made your heart stop.

She was looking at Harry, and then you, and then back to Harry with an unreadable expression on her face.

She was home. Home incredibly early, and her bag was discarded at her feet, dropped when she saw you and Harry.

No one was speaking, Harry was looking at you as for what to do, Emily was just staring and you...you were standing from your post on the floor, going to Harry’s side as if you protect him. “Mom, this is Harry-you’re home-“ You swallowed when her lips pursed. “He, um-we were- He’s my boyfriend.” And then a look you did recognize appeared on her face.

Fury.

“Harry, you can go home.”

Your mouth went dry. This was not how this was supposed to happen. Harry turned to you, eyes questioning if that was what y oh wanted, if you wanted him to leave and with a mournful smile you nodded, walking him to the door. He mouthed an “I love you” which you returned before shutting it.

“You had a boy over.”

“Mom-“

“A boyfriend, come to find. How long have you been seeing this boy?”

You winced. “Three months. But we were going to tell you, he was going to knock on the door-“ And you were beginning to ramble with panic as she cut you off.

“Three months? Three months of you sneaking around behind my back? And when I’m gone you do...that.” She was shaking her head in disbelief, hand going over her face.

“We weren’t sneaking I just...He came over tonight and that was an anomaly, we don’t do that-“

She scoffed. “And I’m supposed to believe you? You want me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth when you’ve been lying to me for months?” You stayed silent, swallowing. “Go to your room. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“Mom-“

“Go.”

You sighed, turning on your heel and walking off.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter!reader

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spencersstrawberryjello · 3 years

Text

Shitty Slasher Film (Spencer Reid + gn!MC - platonic)

Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8 (and minor season 7 spoilers but I figure if you’ve seen season 8 you’ve probably seen season 7 already lmao) MC and Spencer decide to go see a slasher film, but it takes a turn for the worse when the killer begins to stalk his victim.

Content: Hurt/Comfort (because literally what else do I write at this point)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, depressive thoughts, and swearing

MC’s name and pronouns: Neither explicitly mentioned

Word Count: 2285

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The plan was simple.

We were going to see a new horror movie in the theaters - it seemed similar to a slasher film that Morgan, Garcia, Reid and I had seen like six or seven months ago, so I didn’t think anything of it when we booked the tickets. Morgan and Garcia couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately, but we still elected to go on our own, thinking it would be a fun little outing. That was, until the film started.

The lights came up on a woman, walking through a back alley alone, at night. Typical. I even glanced over at Spencer and rolled my eyes a bit, and he grinned at the stereotypical horror movie trope.

She died, of course, and for the first half of the movie I genuinely thought it was going to be exactly what we assumed. We were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, with the stupid special effects and the subpar acting. But everything went off the rails after the first half of the movie.

The killer had revealed his primary target, his endgame, and - much to my horror - he had begun to stalk her.

Scenes of her creating a disguise, moving houses, throwing away her phone, spun a dark web that I didn’t ever want to think about. But I had more pressing things to worry about than my fear at a movie that was literally intended to make you scared.

I glanced over at Spencer, and I could tell that his breathing had picked up. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles as white as his face had turned. I put a hand over his, and his attention snapped to me.

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked him. It was a stupid question, and one I already knew the answer to, but it was the first thing I could think to say. He looked like he was weighing his options for a moment before he shook his head.

“Do you want to leave?” I followed. He nodded, eyes wild, and we quickly grabbed our bags and left, just as the stalker had pulled a gun on his victim. Spencer took one last look at the screen, watching with wide eyes as the victim begged for her life. It was like a trainwreck; he couldn’t take his eyes off the movie, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as the stalker pulled the trigger, and the woman crumpled to the ground. He practically jumped out of his skin when the gunshots fired, and I grabbed his arm to usher him out.

I didn’t realize the full extent of his panic until we made it out of the theater, bursting through the doors into the significantly brighter lights of the hallway. He immediately sat down on the couch near the doors, head in his hands, breathing rapidly.

“Ok, you’ve gotta breathe, Reid. You’ve gotta breathe, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth, can you do that?” I adjusted my breathing to fit the pattern, and saw that he had started to slow his as well. “Good, ok… we can sit here for as long as you need to, just focus on your breathing.”

He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, continuing to breathe slowly before lifting his head from his hands. His eyes were red, and it was clear he’d been trying to fight off tears.

“Reid, I’m so sorry -”

It was at that moment that he cut me off with a hug, tucking his head in the crook of my neck as I felt his body lightly shake with sobs. After a second I hugged him back, not used to physical affection from him, but not opposed as long as he was ok with it.

“It reminded you too much of Maeve, didn’t it?” I asked, trying to ensure that the story I had in my head was correct. He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps again, and I hugged him a bit tighter. “Reid, I’m so sorry, I never would’ve suggested this movie if I’d known the turn the story was going to take.”

He shook his head, sucking in deep breaths before finally attempting to speak. “No, no, it’s ok, I know that you wouldn’t have done this on purpose. It’s just…”

He trailed off, but I knew what he was trying to say. “I was there that day, Reid. I know how much she meant to you.”

“The girl in the movie kind of looked like her. You know? Same hair, same face shape… when I saw the fear in her eyes, all I could imagine was Maeve, terrified, with a gun to her head. The woman I love - loved. The woman I loved. Scared, and alone.”

“Oh, Reid… you know it’s not your fault, right? You did everything you could to save her.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I should’ve closed my eyes, I should’ve tackled Diane - hell, I should’ve shot that bitch the minute I walked into the room! Instead I stood there. I stood there while the woman I loved died in front of me, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“Spencer.” I put my hands on his shoulders, pulling back from the hug to look into his eyes. “You absolutely cannot blame yourself for this. What happened to Maeve was horrible, but it was not your fault. And you can’t live your life with that on your conscience.”

“Maybe I deserve to.” His voice was soft as he tucked his head back into the crook of my neck, and I put my arms around him, one hand lightly rubbing his back. My heart broke for the man in my arms - my best friend - as he sniffled, a few stray tears still trickling down his face.

“You don’t deserve to live with that kind of guilt, Spencer. Guilt for something you didn’t even do. And I’m so, so sorry that you feel that way. And I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it go away,” He argued, his voice muffled by the fabric of my t-shirt, “Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”

I heard his voice hitch when he said it, and I held him a bit tighter. “I know it doesn’t.”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice thick with tears begging to be released. “I just wish I could bring her back.”

It was as if saying it broke something in him, and I felt his body shake as he cried again, consumed by grief and guilt unlike anything I could ever imagine. He was usually so closed off about his emotions that having him crying in my arms was a rare occurrence, even after years of friendship. The last time he was like this was after Emily’s… “death,” and even that wasn’t near as intense.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat on that bench, the orange lights of the movie theater hallway creating a strange liminal sensation as I held Spencer, finally releasing the emotions he’d clearly been pushing away since Maeve’s death.

Eventually, he stopped crying, his breathing returning to something close to normal, and he pulled away from me, his eyes red from tears.

“I’m sor -”

“Nope, do not even start to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He closed his mouth, contemplating saying something else for a second before nodding, hugging me again.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Reid. Do you want to go back to my place? We can order a pizza, and watch a movie - something we know this time. If you need to be alone, I understand, but -”

He shook his head. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady my own breathing after everything that just happened, “Good. Are you ok to walk to the car?”

“Yeah… I’m not sure how talkative I’m going to be tonight though…” He kind of trailed off, clearly drained, but not wanting to be alone.

“I understand; you know there’s no expectations with me, Reid. If you want to just wrap yourself up in a blanket and eat junk food, I get it. I just want to be there, to make sure that you’re ok.”

He gave me a small smile, and I grinned, grabbing his hand to help him off the bench. We made our way out to my car, and I climbed in, starting it before turning on the radio.

Spencer was pretty much silent the entire drive back to my apartment, the noise in the car mostly consisting of the music and my less than stellar singing. When we finally pulled into the complex, we headed upstairs to my place.

“I’m gonna order the food. Do you wanna find something on Netflix you like?” I asked as I unlocked the door. He nodded, and I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, putting in the pizza order on my computer. I saw him grab a blanket from the basket in the living room, wrapping it around his shoulders and plopping down on my couch.

I expected to return to the living room to see whatever movie we were watching cued up on the TV. Instead, I saw Spencer, staring at the wall across from him, remote untouched on the coffee table.

“Hey,” I sat down next to him, gently putting one hand on his shoulder, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

He was silent for a moment, and I could see the mental battle he was fighting. Eventually, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid that if I allow myself to grieve, if I allow myself to think about what happened, I won’t be able to stop. It’s been almost four months, I thought the pain would be gone by now. But it isn’t, it’s… I just miss her. I miss her so much.”

“I know, Reid. I know.”

He leaned into me, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him, the thoughts of pizza and a movie completely abandoned in my mind. Instead, all of my attention was on Spencer as he spoke again.

“On the last case, Rossi talked to me. I told him that I wasn’t sleeping because whenever I did, I would dream of her. Of Maeve. And everytime I saw her, I felt nothing but relief flooding my mind. I told him how she would always ask me to dance, and how I always said no. I never even got to hold her when she was alive, and I was scared that if I gave into the fantasy, I would be lost forever,” He took in a shaky breath before he continued, “And he said I should. He said, ‘just let it happen, Spencer.’ So I did. I danced with her, I held her, and when I woke up, she was all I could think about. The way it felt to wrap my arms around her, the way her head fit perfectly into the crook of my neck while we danced. It took another day before I could think about anything but her, before I could stop wallowing in my grief enough to function. And since that night, I haven’t allowed myself to give into the fantasy again, the fantasy of having her back. I think… I think that if I let it happen again, I won’t be able to come back from it. It’ll just consume me.”

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. He just shook his head, telling me I didn’t need to say anything as we sat there on my couch in silence. He wasn’t crying, he hadn’t cried since we left the theater. He was just… hollow. Everything that he’d been trying to repress - to compartmentalize - had finally caught up to him, in the form of a shitty slasher movie that we’d gotten cheap tickets to see.

I held him tighter, wishing that I could figure out something to say to comfort him, to take away his pain. But I knew there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could do but just be there.

“Have you ever considered talking to someone? Like, not someone from the team - a professional?” I asked.

“I’ve thought about it. But… we’re experts in human behavior, you know? What’s a therapist going to be able to tell me that I can’t already profile myself?”

“Well, it might be helpful to have a licensed professional to talk to about this stuff. Someone who can actually give you advice on how to handle your emotions. Because as much as I am absolutely here for you no matter what, I’m afraid I’m not great at mental health advice.”

“Yeah… maybe.” He sounded dubious about the idea, and while I wanted to encourage him further, I didn’t want to push him today. So I settled for just gently rubbing his back as he laid in my arms, staring at the wall. Eventually, the doorbell rang, and I got up to get the pizza, bringing it back into the living room and setting it down on the coffee table. By now, he’d sat up, the blanket still pulled around his shoulders, but at least a bit more present.

“Thank you,” He said, for the second time that day. I just smiled at him.

“Of course. I love you, Reid. And I’m always here, whatever you need.”

“I love you too,” He gave me a small smile back before turning his attention to the coffee table, “But I also love food - I’m starving.”

I laughed as I handed him a plate, joining him on the couch as we both dug in.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #best friends with spencer #platonic spencer reid #platonic hurt/comfort #angst #hurt/comfort #gn!MC #gender neutral mc

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peanut-butter-parkerxx · 3 years

Text

"what if you stay the night?"

Where you stayed a liiiittle later than usual at your boyfriends place and now you can't go back home...

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Status: the "shy dating phase"

Warning: ⚠️ stranger things season 3 spoilers ahead! ⚠️

Y/n's POV

"WHAT?!" Peter and I both said in unison, our eyes were like saucers, shocked and heart broken, snuggled up together in one blanket silently drying each others tears.

"HOPPERS DEAD?" I was on the verge of sobbing my eyes out until may busted out of her room to the living room.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" her eyes wide in fear, chest heaving from the sudden running as she scanned the room trying to see if there's anything visibly wrong.

"H-HOPPERS DEAD" I stuttered, taking the 26th tissue of the day to dry my eyes. Peter paused the episode since it looked like there was more to it, silently sniffling so he doesn't draw any attention.

"You guys scared the crap out of me! oh my god" She rubbed her forehead in frustration "DONT do that again" her voice was stern but her face softened once she saw how I tried to comfort Peter after he saw his favorite character just died "oh you guys" she walked up, bent down since we were sitting on the couch and hugged us tightly.

"We're sorry, may" we both whispered savoring this unexpected hug

"It's okay, how are you guys holding up?" She asked, slowly drying our tears with her thumbs

"I-I'll manage, it just caught me off guard" I nervously laughed not really happy that I cried infront of my boyfriends aunt coz of a show. A stupid yet heartbreaking show!

"I mean, hop was my favorite character a-and you know why so it kinda hurts" Peter sniffled calming himself down, I knew hopper was peters favorite character but he never told me why, I guess he told may since she nodded her head understanding what he meant, hugging us once more.

"Well, I'll be in my room if you need me" she stood up "oh and since you guys look like miserable soaked puppies, I'll allow you guys to watch one more movie" Our heads perked up smiles daring to leave our faces any minute now.

"UNDER ONE CONDITION" she held her index finger infront of us "it has to be a funny, happy movie, I'm not sure you guys can handle anymore angst" she laughed shaking her head walking to her bedroom.

"Thanks may" Peter shouted

"Yes! Thank you!" I said frantically taking the remote trying to get this miserable yet memorable episode over with.

"Well that was an emotional rollercoaster" Peter laughed, drying my tears after he dried his. his hands were soft and delicate, face scrunched up in concentration not wanting to hurt my puffy red eyes.

"Damn right" I said kissing his red cheeks "I don't think I've ever seen you cry before" I giggled as he hid his head on the crook of my neck groaning in embarrassment.

"Let's not talk about this, for like...ever"he spoke resting his head on my lap looking at the tv to find something quote on quote 'funny and happy'

"Yeah I'm never letting this go" I joked which made him groan even louder

"Baaaaaaabeee" he whined.

"I'm joking I'm joking" I kissed his forehead

"Okay so anything in mind?" He finally spoke after a few minutes of scrolling through Netflix

"No" not really paying attention since I was too busy playing with his hair, it seemed extra fluffy today, can you blame me? "Wait-" I remembered

"What?" He looked up

"What about the curfew?" My voice trailed off in disappointment, obviously since we've only started dating for almost 3 months my parents/guardians were strict and I had a curfew everytime I'd hangout with Pete, I should be home by 10pm or 10:30 max.

"Well, may allowed us to watch one more movie and as for now, we're too caught up with this movie" he clicked on 'how to train your dragon "that we forgot about the curfew" he declared in a 'matter of a fact' tone. Now sitting upright, holding me close.

"You're such a dork" I ruffled his hair. The sound of thunder echoed through the apartment, roaring every few minutes while the small rain droplets were scattered on the windows racing eachother on who'll go down first.

I snuggled up to Peter more enjoying the relaxing sounds of the grizzling rain combined with the Viking-ish type of music that came from the movie.

"I love this film" I stated remembering all the times I've watched this movie when I was younger always re-enacting the scene where hiccup touches toothless for the first time.

*A/N: if you didn't watch this movie when u were younger it's this scene and just think of a movie you LOVED watching as a kid*

"Me too" he nuzzled his head in my hair and sighed in content.

1 hour into the movie my phone started ringing, Peter had I loooked at eachother, eyes widening in fright

"WHY ARE YOU SCARED YOUR THE ONE WHO CONVINCED ME TO STAY" I whisper shouted a bit scared for what's about to happen scratch that I'm terrified.

"WHY ARE YOU WHISPER SHOUTING" he whisper shouted

"WHY ARE YOU WHISPER SHOUTING- ok whatever I'm gonna accept" my thumb grazed the curve of my phone I was still contemplating whether the best option is to a Answer it or ignore it, but I guess Peter couldn't contain his patience and quickly pressed accept.

"PETER" I absentmindedly shouted forgetting that my parents/guardians we on the line.

"Y/n sweetheart, you okay?" Your parent/guardian echoed from the phone since I pressed the speaker.

"Y-yeah I'm okay. Peter is just being an idiot, again." I fake laughed, glaring at Peter causing him to widen his eyes, he knew fucked up. But before I could mentally slap my boyfriend up I heard laughter in the other side of the line.

"Well, looks like you're having fun. But uh hunny I just wanted to tell you that it's 11 right now"

"Oh really?" I tried to act surprised and thankfully it's succeeding. While I was trying to hear my parents discuss on what I should do, I sensed Peter getting up from the couch, I looked at him briefly furrowing my eye brows but I shrugged it off..until I heard

"Hey y/n/n! Somehow I managed to not burn the popcorn" Peter chuckled rather loudly, purposefully so my parents/guardians could hear him "ready to watch your favorite movie?" He flopped on the couch, again, very loudly so they could hear us. "Oh, who you callin'?" He said putting on his best New York accent, squeaking his voice at the end.

Peter knew that my mom/guardian had a soft spot for him, she definitely liked him most out of all the guys I talked to her about, not like there was many anyways.

"Oh, my parents/guardians" I eyed Peter silently telling him to continue.

"Oh hey Mr. and Mrs Y/l/n"

"Hello Peter" and after a few more minute Peter miraculously managed to convince my parents to stay 30 more minutes so we obviously didn't waste any time and started the movie.

"What was that for?" His eyes widened a bit by the sudden kiss I gave him as a thank you, cheeks getting pink, and a goofy smile plastered on his red face.

"Just cuz" I shrugged my shoulders kissing him again "now, let's finish this movie"

30 minutes later, the movie finished. The credit scene rolled in but Peter and I never moved a muscle, we didn't want to. Bu we had to at some point.

"Please don't leave" he hummed snuggling his head deeper in my chest as I brushed his curls. Somehow Peter was laying on top of me while we were watching the movie and we didn't move since. I wasn't complaining, i loved it.

"You know I have to, Pete" I sighed deeply brushing my face over his curls to get one last whiff of him.

"No you don't" Peter looked up, looking between my eyes and lips briefly. I could tell he wanted to kiss me and I wanted too but I was too curious for what he was proclaiming.

"What are you thinking, bug boy?" I smirked slightly while he fully smiled at me, letting the what he thinks obnoxious nickname go just this once, his droopy eyes sparkled. He was tired, but he had to at least say his idea, even though it probably won't happen.

"What if you stay the night?" He proposed his long awaited thought, the thought that was trapped inside his mind since their first time cuddling. when they first cuddled, he knew for a fact that he wanted to feel this comforted this loved for a whole night (maybe even more) and not just a couple of hours.

His eyes wandered around the room, suddenly getting interest in his picture of his 6 year old self dumped in his uncles shaving cream. And he hated that picture.

"R-Really?" You were over the moon, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

"Y-Yes" he gave you a breathy laugh, getting more confident from the way you've reacted.

"W-Well I-" you definitely wanted to spend the night with your boyfriend, especially since he was the one suggesting it, his hopeful eyes were lost in your excited ones, he didn't know what was holding you back, which made him lose his confidence again.

"You- you don't have to...you know" he scratched the back of his neck, cheeks now flammably red.

"No no, I want to, it's just- what am I gonna say to my parents?" Y/n trailed off, looking down at her phone.

"Just tell them that you can't come back coz of the storm and that I won't allow you going at this time of the day, New York is my home, but you know how it is at night" he rubbed your arm, his mind racing trying to find a good excuse to persuade her parents "or no jus-"

"Cant" y/n interrupted, waving her lit up phone to his face "already sent it" she nervously laughed, immediately regretting hitting send before getting confirmation from her boyfriend.

Before Peter could protest, they both heard a notification. y/n quickly opened her phone to see that her parents...agreed? She looked at the text again, and again, making sure hay she wasn't just seeing things.

"What?" Of course Peter didn't know the answer since she crammed her phone to her face eager to see if there was a littlest slightest chance her parents would say yes...and they surprisingly did.

"What? Baby what happened?" Curiosity got the best of him so he took her phone to see the message himself. Y/n was laughing from victory, but mostly coz how easy it was to convince her parents to stay the night at a boys house, her boyfriends house to be exact "They agreed" he whispered, a small smile growling by the second. Looking up at y/n.

"They agreed!"

🕸 🕸 🕸 🕸 🕸 🕸🕸 🕸 🕸 🕸

After having a little 5 minute victory dance, they both decided it was time for bed. Peter excused himself for a second to go grab a t-shirt and sweats for you, along with an extra toothbrush. Then left to go change.

You entered his bathroom, the smell of his colognes and aftershave hits your nose, the scent was so familiar, like it was home, it felt like you wanted to drown yourself in that special cologne of his, that never failed to make you feel giddy.

"Babe, you ready?" Peter whispered from the other side of the door, not really wanting to wake his aunt anytime soon, mainly because he cares for her and wants her to have her good night sleep, but also Because If she woke up she'd see the text y/n's parents sent to her about not letting them sleep on the same bed, and no one wants that, right?

"Yeah You can come in" y/n replied, folding her clothes as she searched for the toothbrush her boyfriend gave her.

"Hey" Peter smiled, his voice barely a whisper. He couldn't stop smiling, like. At. All. I mean why should he stop? He loved that he'll be holding his favorite girl while he's peacefully sleeping AND waking up to see her still in his arms.

"Hi" You smiled bashfully, at Peters dreamy gaze that was shamelessly for you and only you.

"Ready for bed?" He asked hugging you sideways as you were brushing your teeth. You nodded, washing your mouth from the toothpaste.

"Let's go" y/n held peters hand and walked to his room, Peter flopped on the bed, a little too loudly (But thankfully it didn't wake may up) causing you to laugh.

Y/n crawled into the bed laying beside Peter sighing in deep bliss. As Peter lied beside her, suddenly getting stiff. He didn't know what to do, should he hold you? Should he just leave you? He didn't know, and he definitely didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. So he was just..there. Lying on his back, arms in a straight line like he was a standing soldier, but lying down.

He sensed y/n shuffling to the side, the side away from him to be exact. And at that moment he thought he messed up. But before he could turn the other way around and start over thinking, he felt a hand on his arm.

"C'mere" y/n said, stopping him midway from turning around. You gestured for him to come closer coz you knew your boyfriend, you knew how easily flustered he gets by touching you or by doing any form of affection towards you. So you guided his arms so it can hold you securely around your waist and tangled your legs between his.

Peter smiled at the thought of you wanting him to touch you. even after all those months of telling him it was okay, he was still shy and nervous about it, so he kissed your shoulder as a way of saying 'thank you' and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck, peppering with even more kisses.

"Hey Pete"

"Yeah" he whispered

"Why's hopper your favorite character?" She turned her body around so she can see him, patiently waiting for an answer that she possibly already knew.

"Well uh, hop sort of, reminded me of Ben? I mean, he was new to parenting and he wasn't great at it at first but he loved el, he was her father figure and their relationship reminded me of my uncle and I's. So when I saw how el was literally sobbing I- I felt it, I knew that feeling and it just, I don't know.." Peter sniffled. his voice was low, and sad but he smiled nonetheless silently telling y/n that he's fine.

"Oh Peter" y/n's hands went straight to the back of his head, comfortingly massaging his scalp as she hugged him close. "I'm so sorry" she looked up at him, gently drying his tears. At that moment Peter knew he loved her. They couldn't stop staring at eachother with adoration and most definitely love. They didn't even have to say it, coz it was like it was written on their faces.

"I love you" he smiled, not nervous at all for confessing tothe girl infront of him his love for her. The words came out effortlessly and perfectly. He grateful that he had someone, who truly cares for him and won't leave him any time soon, how does he knew you may ask? Well, he just knows.

"I love you, more" she kissed his knuckles the pecked his lips. Her smile never leaving anytime soon. Yup this is love, this is how it feels to love someone. Y/n nuzzled her head on the crook of his neck and closed her eyes, for real this time, in bliss and happiness. Finally after today's rollercoaster of emotions and confessions, she was happy to be in her lovers arms.

"G'night y/n/n"

"G'night"

I wrote this in a hurry since I got to go and I promised myself to publish this before I leave 😅 hope you enjoyed it and:

Have a wonderful morning/evening/night!

-quacksonlover

17 notes · View notes

kafka-ish · 4 years

Text

jealousy is a disease, get well soon | r.t.

richie gets a new girlfriend. she’s smart, popular, and pretty. but where does that leave y/n?

word count: 4,657

warnings/included: nsfw (smut, public sex), cliffhanger, kinda angsty, fem!reader

request: (from anonymous) “jealous richie tozier x reader smut?”

a/n: i feel like richie is ooc in this one but lmk what you think

Three months, eight days, and six hours. It had been three months, eight days, and six antagonizing hours since Richie Tozier started dating Vicki Horowitz.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Richie would still make his usual appearance at the lunch table with the Losers. He’d crack his usual jokes, then be on his way. He’d still walk with y/n to the library after school and he’d still make googly eyes at the cheerleaders who frequented the young adult section and hadn’t bothered to change from their uniforms yet.

But as the days got shorter and the timeline of Richie’s relationship got longer, something changed. Richie’s mouth became less trashy. He found the way his hairline was supposed to part. And along the way, the graphic tees he wore were now button-ups in a solid shade.

“What are you thinking about?” y/n asked. The question wasn’t foreign to Richie, but his answer was new to her ears.

They were sitting in the school library, as opposed to the public one they’d usually go to. Richie’s head rested in her lap; his mess of hair strewn all over the skirt of y/n’s dress—but she didn’t mind. He was sneaking a smoke even though there were no windows and offered her one of his cigs even though he knew becoming one step closer to death wasn’t something y/n was particularly fond of.

y/n accepted the cigarette anyway. She didn’t light it but tucked it behind her ear for safekeeping—a souvenir. Because this was the first time they’d hung out in weeks. Just the two of them; skipping their lunch period in an empty library because who even reads anymore?

“Nothin’ I really wanna tell you about, kid.” Richie stopped calling y/n sweetheart and babe long ago. Icky Vicki—a name y/n came up with without Richie’s knowledge—had requested she be the only babe or sweetheart in his life. And that’s how it was so on and so forth.

The heart beating in y/n’s chest grew increasingly louder because Richie used to tell her everything. Her hand left his scalp which she was once massaging under the tangles that were somehow still soft and lush. His eyebrows furrowed when she started to pull away from him.

“You’re disgusting, Tozier.” y/n then realized she didn’t have to ask Richie what he was thinking about. He was thinking about his girlfriend and the nights they’d shared on multiple occasions.

“What did I do?” He was now sitting up and facing his friend. Could he even call her a friend anymore? When was the last time they hung out? Richie stomped out his half-smoked Marlboro on the rug of the library, not caring that it would leave a mark, with the brand-new sneakers Vicki bought for him. His hands dug around in the front pocket of his jeans, searching for the Altoids container he kept on him at all times. Cinnamon. He downed half the box, the same way you’d chug a beer at a frat party because I hate it when you smoke, Rich echoed in his ears everytime he contemplated the pack of Marlboros that burned a hole in his other pocket.

y/n didn’t say anything. She got up, smoothed out her dress where Richie had left wrinkles, and stalked off.

It wasn’t like y/n to be jealous. When Bill got his first girlfriend, she jumped for joy and asked for her contact info so they could have sleepovers and give each other makeovers. When Mike started flirting with the new girl who moved into the plot of land next to his, y/n didn’t bat an eye.

So what was different this time?

y/n didn’t waste her precious time thinking about it. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t let Richie Tozier consume her thoughts, at least not consciously, during her restless nights and grey days. She assumed it wasn’t worth it to let Richie and his icky girlfriend get the best of her. Because that would mean they won.

The two hadn’t hung out since then.

They weren’t in a fight, but they weren’t on each other’s good sides. Necessarily.

Richie opted to spend the rest of the week with Vicki and y/n managed to get by the way she usually had for the past three months.

“Maybe you’re jealous?” Beverly offered. y/n found herself spending a lot more time with Bev now that she marked out Richie’s name with a red marker from her list of friends.

y/n scoffed and handed Beverly her right hand for her to paint. Jealous? That’s absurd. She admired her newly painted left hand. The dark green color surprisingly complimented her undertones perfectly.

“Why would I be jealous?” y/n couldn’t bring herself to look at her friend. She didn’t want her eyes to give away a reality she wasn’t ready to face, and she didn’t want to find a look in Beverly’s that only confirmed what she was suggesting.

“Oh, come on.” Beverly’s head threw back—a sign that she was becoming annoyed with her friend’s stubbornness and groaned. “Put two and two together. You and Richie used to spend every day together.” Her hands left y/n’s to make a sort of sandwiching motion. “Now you don’t.” They spread apart. Beverly shrugged nonchalantly as y/n started to realize something it seemed everyone already knew.

“I can’t believe you think I’m jealous of Richie.” Was all y/n could bring herself to say. But her thoughts wandered exactly where Beverly predicted.

To Richie Tozier, who was expectedly hanging out with one Vicki Horowitz. They were walking the cement of the strip mall. It was something Vicki did often, even before she had a boyfriend, and something Richie did often now that Vicki had attached himself to her like a dog on a leash.

“What do you think about that dress?” Vicki stopped outside of a small boutique. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground and her right arm was linked with Richie’s left while her free hand pointed to a small, black dress that allowed for practically no breathing space.

“’S cool,” Richie said with no sign of interest. He’d sworn they passed that dress three times by now and the pavement under his feet felt like the entryway to Satan’s humble abode.

“Cool?” Richie didn’t notice his girlfriend’s trimmed eyebrow shoot up in disbelief at the boy whose arm she held onto. “Well, what do you think of the dress on me?” Her voice dipped an octave lower and her eyes had that knowing look they always did before she was about to take a standardized test. Or when they were about to do it. Maybe that’s how Vicki roped Richie into this relationship.

Four months ago, Richie would have never thought of dating Vicki Horowitz. Not because she was out of his league. Every girl was out of his league, according to the dopes he called friends. But Richie never thought about batting an eye in Vicki Horowtiz’s direction. She was a governor’s scholar and the school’s class president ever since 1990. She was also a member of the same student council y/n was on, but to think he could score both of them would be a page from a fairytale.

It was a fairytale the day Vicki Horowitz had come up to him and the Losers at lunch, asking if she could have a word with him, no not you, him.

“What’s cookin, good-lookin’?” And Richie scolded himself for those being the first words spoken to the Vicki Horowitz.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Her blazing blue eyes rolled playfully, and Richie smiled because the only other time a girl had called him anything remotely close to cute was when y/n straightened out his collar and fluffed up his hair at homecoming. Don’t you clean up nice. “I want you to go out with me.”

“What sorta charity case are you workin’ here, hot stuff?” In Richie’s mind, he had every right to be incredulous. Girls didn’t ask him out. Girls didn’t even say yes when he asked them out.

And maybe it was a charity case when, a month in, Vicki had convinced Richie to iron his jeans and wear shirts that were only one color. Maybe it was a charity case when Richie found himself eating lunch with Vicki’s group of friends instead of his—talking about scholarship programs and studying abroad instead of the new werewolf movie that somehow scared the cripes out of him and when Batman’s new comic issue would be released. Maybe it was a charity case when Richie no longer used words like fuck and shit and began popping mints like they were drugs because Vicki wouldn’t let him smoke around her.

His white lace-ups kicked mindlessly at the sidewalk he stood at. He pondered the question even though there wasn’t much to ponder about. “Then I’d say that dress just got hot,” Richie smirked, and Vicki slapped him in the side.

Of course, you would were the words he expected to hear. But as much as Richie wanted her to be, Vicki wasn’t y/n and instead said, “Did you go over the vocab packet I slipped in your locker?

“I got it.” Richie’s free hand took residence in his pocket. He felt around for the box of Marlboros there and wondered if he should light one in front of her. Three months—almost four, he’d been in this relationship, and ever since a month ago he was beginning to think it was one-sided. “I, uh, didn’t get the chance to go over it.” He coughed and looked down at her, not expecting to see her eyes burning through his.

“You smell like cinnamon,” Vicki said. Her gaze softened but Richie wasn’t impressed. What was it about her? Was it her who changed, or him? Richie’s mind couldn’t wander any further—his thoughts sliced by Vicki’s voice. “What’s up with you?” She wasn’t usually the concerned type, but Richie knew she was being genuine when her eyes started hopelessly searching his.

“I’m tired,” Richie lied. “Y’know, we’ve been walkin’ so much. Ye ole feet need a rest.” Richie laughed but Vicki didn’t. She didn’t usually find him funny. She didn’t usually find anything funny except for small dogs in purses and grammatical mistakes.

“You could’ve just said so.” It was one of the few times she let up, but she was good. She was good at a lot of things, actually.

Vicki drove him home in silence. It wasn’t a talking kind of day and the radio was left untouched since neither of them could agree on a music station.

“Call me.” Were her last words to him before he stepped out of her daddy’s Mercedes.

Richie didn’t say anything. He stepped inside his house, his back slumped against the front door as he finished his thoughts from earlier that day in the comfort of his own home.

Why, out of everyone in Derry, would Vicki Horowitz choose to date someone like Richie Tozier? Of course, he’d be an idiot—which he wasn’t (that’s debatable)—to pass up an opportunity to go out with someone as eclectic as her. His thoughts betrayed him, finding their way to Vicki’s long, blonde hair and always rosy cheeks.

Obviously, he’d miss her if he broke things off between them. But there was something else that twisted his gut, telling him to do so.

And Richie always trusted his gut. He’d trust it if it told him to pick C on his math test or if it told him to jump off the golden gate bridge.

It was Monday, in the corner behind Derry High where everyone smoked, where the breakup took place. Richie had the decency to break it off somewhere private and Vicki had the decency to not cry or beg him to stay.

“Hey.” Richie’s voice was soft. His back stabilized by the bricks behind him and Vicki didn’t need to question what this was about.

“Hi.” Her tone held the same solemnness as his. “The least you could do was invite me somewhere nicer to break up with me.” It was the only time Richie laughed at one of her jokes and the last time he would. And though he wanted to, Richie couldn’t be surprised that Vicki already knew what he called her over for. She was a smart girl with a smart mouth to match.

“You know?” He stood up straight and took a drag from his cigarette.

“If you weren’t smoking, I would’ve thought otherwise,” Vicki said truthfully. Just then, a flood of students burst through the doors of Derry High. School was out. “I’m not fond of it, but I’m not going to hold you back.”

Richie wanted to scoff. He thought of the one afternoon when Vicki spent an hour combing through his hair, so the strands laid straight and naturally began to part to the side. He thought of how she scolded his unhealthy use of recreational drugs to the point he had to live a double life. He thought of how his time was no longer spent with his friends, but with her.

I’m not going to hold you back my ass.

But this was no time to argue.

Richie put out the cigarette, barely smoked, and walked away. Away from button-up shirts. Away from vocabulary packets and the debate of the use ‘impact’ in place of ‘effect’. Away from Vicki.

His rough footsteps hit the ground under him with a thump. Richie knew exactly where he was going. And maybe it was wrong that his first instinct was to cross the path of a certain someone after he had just called things off with his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend. But maybe Richie didn’t care.

It took him approximately ten minutes to walk to the Derry Public Library and approximately two minutes for an indescribable feeling to tear through his stomach. His feet lurched forward, but Richie steadied himself by reaching for one of the wooden shelves of the bookcase he stood behind.

It was y/n. As he expected, she was sitting at one of the desks. But her nose wasn’t stuck in her chem book, cramming for tomorrow’s test. It was pointed towards Matt Brimmer, upturned, along with her crinkled eyes and dazed smile. Was Matt Brimmer really that funny?

Richie knew he could make her smile like that. He knew he could make her smile even wider. So, he didn’t know why he was having seconds thoughts right now. The other voices in his head, telling him how inferior he was to so-called Matt Brimmer. Matt Brimmer on the football team. Matt Brimmer with the golden hair. Matt Brimmer the golden boy.

Everyone knew who Matthew Brimmer was; it’d be a crime not to. Although he wasn’t the Quarterback, he was the main reason Derry High’s football team got any of the wins they had. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but his prince charming smile and locks that reminded Richie of that Rapunzel story made up for it. He got by.

Richie had two options. He could go home and feel sorry for himself or he could wait for y/n and confront her after her study session. Was what they were doing even considered studying?

He opted for the second since he had already spent enough time feeling sorry for himself. And one dreadful hour later of mindlessly picking at his shoe and flipping through various pages of children’s books, Richie caught y/n alone, about to leave the already dark library.

The lights were dimmed, and the sun outside had already set. There was no sign of the librarian or her volunteers when y/n’s worn in high-tops came into his eyeline. He was sitting cross-legged, with a book in his lap. But his mind wasn’t on the pages.

Richie’s doe eyes widened under his magnifying lenses when they trailed up the skin of his friend’s bare legs that had stopped in their tracks. y/n was wearing a denim mini skirt in the middle of winter and how she hadn’t attracted goosebumps yet was a question he’d save for later.

“H-hey!” Richie bounced to his feet, standing at his full height.

“Hi.” y/n eyed him skeptically. She was holding a book in one hand. Her other hand was attached to the strap of her backpack.

“I saw you with Matt,” Richie blurted out. His own words surprised him because although he wasn’t shy—far from it—he wasn’t confrontational either. No. That was Bill. Bill would be the type to ask about the guy you had just got done cuddling with at the football game even though he was your boyfriend. But y/n and Richie weren’t dating, and Richie didn’t like her like that. Did he?

“Okay.” Was all y/n said. Her face was blank, void of any emotion. A sign. And her eyes bore into his, the way a police car’s emergency lights catch you when you’re speeding.

She was about to leave, probably to return her book, until Richie’s hand coiled around her wrist.

“What?” The irritableness in y/n’s tone became slightly more palatable. The one word struck Richie’s core and the voice in his head telling him telling him that this would be a good idea was now making its retreat.

“Matt Brimmer, eh?”

“Please.” Her expression grew more disgusted by the second; eyebrows raised; lips puckered as if she had just sucked the life out of a lemon. “You’re the last person who gets to commentate on my love life.”

Richie’s heart panged at the last words. Love life. If this were true—if y/n were dating Matt Brimmer—Richie quite literally wouldn’t know what to do with himself. His face didn’t show it, but right now, he was a guest at his funeral. Everyone was wearing black except him and Stan was giving the eulogy.

Only Richie would do what Richie did next. It was an awful act of…whatever because this newfound feeling in his chest was too much for him to take. Both of his hands cupped either side of her cheeks which were now hot, but not from embarrassment. He dove in for a kiss, both of his lips capturing her bottom one. The quietest moan rolled off her tongue, but before any more noises could be made, she pulled away.

“You have a girlfriend,” y/n said, as much as she didn’t want to. “and I’m—”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re with Wonderboy.” Richie heaved out a sigh loud enough for y/n to forget what had just happened moments ago and raise her eyebrows, only to ask what’s wrong. In fact, she did oh so conveniently forget about his actions from earlier, and her right eyebrow quirked.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked and Richie didn’t realize how much he missed that question until now. How much he missed her.

The color in his eyes seemed to darken—like they were hooded by a shadow—and she was sure it wasn’t the doing of the lack of lighting in the room.

But Richie didn’t reply. His lips trailed back to hers again. The two melded into each other like iron being welded. This time y/n didn’t pull away. She lingered long enough to taste the cigarette he’d hardly smoked earlier and mints he didn’t swallow whole this time.

It was Richie who broke the kiss, only to press one onto her neck. The tip of his pointed nose tickled as it grazed the skin of her cheekbone and his chapped lips felt new and exciting when they left kisses below her ear.

“Richie.” y/n would be ashamed to admit this was something she’d been waiting for. That this very moment was a scene from her dreams that she hadn’t got the proper amount of time to explore because she’d awoken before the climax.

“You’ll have to be quiet, doll,” Richie mumbled against her skin. y/n could’ve fainted right then and there, but she refrained; wanting to experience this moment fully conscious. His fingers found their way to her side, gripping the fabric of her white mock neck casually as if this were something they’d done hundreds of times before. There was something about the way he handled her that made y/n insecure. Just knowing he had practiced these types of moves on girls before her had sparked a light in the pit of darkness that was her stomach. Her hands flew to his cheeks. The pad of her thumbs ran across his pale skin now blossoming pink.

Richie twisted their position, backing y/n into the case of books behind her—full to the shelf. His hands ghosted their way under her top, brushing her bare midsection. It was soft but cold, even under the sweater textile. It didn’t help that his hands could substitute for ice.

y/n giggled—a sound so sweet he’d cherish ‘til the end of time. A sound he’d never heard from Vicki’s lips. Her breath, smelling of lemon lozenges, fanned his face in a hot cloud. Richie wanted more. If he had any less dignity, he’d beg for more.

It’s not like y/n wanted to giggle during this new act of intimacy between them. To be frank, she was…upset. Who was Richie Tozier to leave her hanging for a girl who wore frilly chiffon blouses on Wednesday only to wear her jeans low rise so everyone and their grandmother could see her pink lace thong peeking from them on Friday? Who was Richie Tozier to leave her hanging at all? The late nights she’d spent at the Derry Public Library alone, in hopes the certain someone she snuck glances at during their passing period and her Pre-Calculus class only left an empty feeling in her heart and a rotten aftertaste in her mind. To let Richie know he was the reason for her pleasure and the hand between her thighs at night would be letting him win.

But what’s life without a few losses?

Richie’s movements never stopped—they were quick, but enough to send sparks to the one place y/n needed attention the most. His hands traveled lower, eventually reaching the hem of her skirt that ended just four inches above the knee. Distractedly, he pinched the thick material between his thumb and index finger. The roughness of the denim somehow satisfyingly scratched the edge of his fingers—drawing him out of his trance.

He lifted her skirt—revealing y/n’s ballerina pink underwear Richie only got to see at the quarry. There was no time for them to completely undress—and if they did, it’d be far too scandalous (as if what they were doing right now wasn’t already sinful).

Richie’s head whipped away from y/n’s neck; his eyes frantically darting around the space around them, seeing if anyone was nearby. y/n’s hands once again took his face in them, directing his attention back to her. Richie smiled as soon as her features came into view: black mascara smudged on her bottom lash line and the lipstick previously on her lips found a new home on her frenulum. She was mind-blowingly good looking even in a disordered state.

His hands left her upper thigh—where he had been leaving feathery strokes. y/n presumed he was about to unbuckle his belt. But he didn’t. He stood there, silently appreciating the scene displayed before him, and also wishing they had more time or had a setup more comfortable. His hands rested at the silver clasp of his belt, daring to make a move but also frozen in time.

“What are you waiting for?” y/n sniped, and Richie’s confidence level was found through the roof; like the green health bar when you first slip a quarter into the Street Fighter machine.

Nimbly, Richie’s fingers went to undo his belt and slip off his jeans and boxers underneath. It didn’t take long for his lips to crash against hers. A bruise would be left later for memories’ sake. His tongue swiped her bottom lip, tasting birthday cake in the process.

y/n’s own hands were small, but they made an effort to run through his hair, feeling the left-over gel from yesterday and the abnormal amount of times it had been brushed through. She tugged at the roots, eliciting a groan from him that was luckily muffled by y/n’s mouth.

His hands found their original place on the curve of y/n’s hips. But first, he made quick to strip her of her undergarments. An innocent shade for a not so innocent act. Richie was fast to slip in—not giving y/n the time to adjust around him. She whimpered and he swore he could feel a tear against both of their cheeks.

“You’re dripping.” Richie didn’t address the quiet tears that rolled down the slope of her face, too concentrated on the feeling of something else rolling against him. y/n’s hips perked up, a desperate attempt to meet his; ardent and needy. He took it as a sign. His thrusts sped up, coated in her silk.

The substance shared between them was like glue holding their bodies together. Richie’s hands surprised y/n when they squeezed the back of her legs, urging her to jump up, and stabilizing her when she did. Her legs coiled around his, allowing for Richie to find a deeper spot none of her other hookups could.

“Can Matt Brimmer fuck you like this?” Despite the shivers his words sent down her spine, y/n finally knew what this was about. She had her suspicions, but his words only confirmed them.

His voice was hushed, only for her to hear, but she supposed if he screamed it no one would hear them in the seemingly vacant building.

y/n didn’t reply. She felt her eyes roll back and his hips snap in unpredictable paces against hers. It was rare—exceptional, even—that y/n found release this fast. She could blame it on the thrill of potentially getting caught. Their bodies covered yet splayed out inappropriately for anyone to walk in on. She could blame it on Richie; that she was finally attached at the hip, literally, with her lifelong best friend and not-so-guilty pleasure fuck whenever Beverly and she ran out of sleepover games. Her grip on his hair tightened as well as the walls around him. The prolonged whines she had been biting between her teeth turned into heavy pants—her breath mixing with his.

Miraculous, it was, that Richie was able to remain noiseless when he came. He stayed inside her for a second more, dwelling in the ecstasy the two had shared for as long as he could. It was only until y/n’s eyes greeted Richie’s when he pulled out and redressed his half-naked body.

She wasn’t glaring this time, but she didn’t look happy either. Usually, girls were supposed to be happy after sex. Second thoughts started to litter his mind. Richie couldn’t help but think he came short. But he was relieved when y/n spoke up.

“Can Vicki Horowitz make you feel that way?” Her skirt was now properly covering her thighs and she must’ve pulled her underwear up and Richie hadn’t noticed. y/n left him with a quick peck to the lips, smirking into it as she did. It was dominant. Possessive. The last of what Richie saw of her was the back of her now messy hair when she picked up her backpack and walked out—through the maze of books and out the glass doors.

Richie was in awe. Still in a post-orgasmic condition, his fingers ran to his neck, tracing over the newly forming blemish y/n left as a trade for the dozens he gave her. Richie stood there a few minutes more. His palm pressed against the mark only to leave so his index finger could trace his lips that a gracious residue of berry lipstick and saliva mixture tacked onto.

He’d catch her tomorrow.

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

Ateez: Their Crush Confesses While Drunk

Kim Hongjoong:

"I think you've had enough." Hongjoong said as he snatched the shot glass away from you.

Whining, you tried to take it back. "I think the fuck not!"

Hongjoong only snorted. "Trust me, the last thing you're doing at the moment is thinking."

Huffing, you rested your head on your hands, feeling dizzy and ready to puke at any moment.

"I am thinking for your information." You said with slurred words.

"Really? Do enlighten me, what could you possibly be thinking about in your inebriated state?" He rolled his eyes, knowing you would probably just spurt out some nonsense.

Lifting your face slightly, a goofy smile was spread on your lips.

"I'm thinking of how cute Hongjoong is..... how I just wanna squish his cheeks and kiss those lips of his."

Hongjoong nearly choked on his water at your words.

"Wait, what?"

Sighing, you confessed. "I can't stop thinking about him, I just like him so much......."

Turning to him, you held up a finger to your lips. "But he can't know. It's my little secret."

Hongjoong could clearly see that you were so drunk that you didn't realize that it was him who was in front of you right now. He only blushed slightly.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He winked at you, already planning out how he was going to tell you about this in the morning.

Park Seonghwa:

Seonghwa was currently in the process of holding your hair up as you spilled your guts out in the toilet.

"I told you not to go out with that friend of yours, cause everytime you do, you end up like this." Seonghwa cringed.

"It wasn't even that bad!" You protested.

"Oh no?! You literally tried to eat a leaf plant thinking it was a salad!" He exclaimed.

Groaning, you lifted your head. "Why are you always nagging and yelling at me?! You're not my mom!"

"Cause I'm your friend and I'd rather you not end up like a hot mess." Seonghwa said.

At his words, you teared up and started crying, it actually made Seonghwa frightened.

"I know you're only looking out for me, cause you're my friend.....that's all you'll ever be. Just my friend!"

You ended up falling on the floor, bawling your eyes out. Seonghwa didn't know whether to hug you or tell you to snap out of it.

"Why can't you love me like I love you? Why do you only see me as a friend? What's wrong with me?"

Seonghwa's heart clenched at your words. He didn't realize you were hurting just as much as he was. Gently, he picked you up and carried you to his room.

"Nothing's wrong with you, you're absolutely perfect. But you're gonna have to wait until you're sober so I can say it to you." He said to himself as he began to tuck you into bed.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho ran around the parking lot like it was a marathon. How you managed to get lost was beyond him, but all he could think about was finding you and taking you home. After 20 minutes, he found you underneath a tree, passed out.

Sighing, he lifted you up onto his back and started carrying you back to the car. He felt you moving and whining.

"Oh you're awake." Was the only thing he said.

"Are you mad at me?" He could practically hear you pouting.

"No. I was just worried about you and I'm relieved to find you."

Finally arriving where the car was parked, he felt you tighten your hold on him.

"Wait! Let me just stay like this for a bit." You begged him.

"Why?" Yunho asked.

"Cause I really really like you, and you only let me hold you like this when I'm wasted. Let me just stay like this before it's over."

Yunho got flustered by your words, but made no move to get you off him just yet. When he felt that you were asleep, he carefully placed you in the passenger seat and buckled you in.

"You know if you want me to hold you like that, all you have to do is ask."

Kang Yeosang:

Yeosang tried to avoid looking at you in your drunk state. You were currently grinding against somebody, occasionally even letting them kiss your neck, which made him clench his fist under the table. He refused to admit he was jealous though.

Walking up to him, you tried to bring him out of his seat. "Come on Yeosangie! Dance with me!"

He pulled his hand away rather harshly. "No thank you."

You pouted at him. "Come on! Have some fun."

"Y/N stop wasting your time with me and just go back to dry humping whoever you were with." His voice was angry.

Huffing, you stomped your foot. "At least they actually pay attention to me! What do I have to do to get you to notice me? Obviously making you jealous isn't working."

Yeosang only whipped his head towards you. "What?"

"Have you ever been remotely attracted to me? Cause I'm super attracted to you. I seriously like you. But why don't you find me attractive?"

Yeosang looked at you, wondering if it really was you or just the alcohol talking. He did find you attractive, extremely and he was insanely jealous. But he wasn't going to tell you that until he knew for sure you would repeat what you said in the morning.

Choi San:

You woke up with a pounding headache, already regretting the alcohol intake last night. Once your eyes focused, you saw San looking right at you, a huge smile on his face. You screamed and sat up immediately, covering yourself, not realizing both of you were fully clothed.

"Well good morning to you too love." He giggled as he cupped your cheeks.

You squirmed out of his touch, making him pout.

"Is that any way to greet your boyfriend? Come on baby, give me a kiss." He leaned in once again but you dodged him.

"What on earth is wrong with you Choi San?!" You exclaimed.

"What's wrong with me?! What's with you?! First you confess to me, telling me how much you want to date me, and even after I say yes, you treat me like I have coronavirus?"

You stood there, stunned at him.

"What?"

"Don't you remember what happened last night?" He asked.

When you shook your head, he sighed before telling you all the events of last night, from your awkward confession, to him accepting and how he let you sleep with him cause to him you have been official since last night.

Song Mingi:

Mingi was currently standing next to a wild dancing you, trying to make sure you didn't hurt yourself, hurt anyone, or worse, go home with somebody. That was definitely something he wasn't letting happen on his watch.

"Are you having fun Mingi?!" You hollered at the top of your lungs.

"Yeah..... so much." He responded as he adjusted his position, blocking the view of someone who was eyeing you too much.

You turned to him with a mischievous grin on your face.

"If I jump, would catch me?" You asked.

"What?!" He asked, wondering if he heard you right with the music blasting too loud.

Without warning, you sprinted to him before jumping into his arms. Mingi stumbled a bit, but regained his balance quickly. He looked over to make sure you weren't hurt.

"You're either really brave or really stupid when you're drunk." He shook his head at you.

"What would you classify this as then?"

Right then and there, you crashed your lips against his, giving him a rather desperate kiss, leaving him stunned.

"Y-yah! What was that for?!" He asked, blushing violently.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that. You don't know how long I've wanted you." You confessed, nuzzling into his neck.

Mingi was at a loss for words, he tried not to, but a happy smile formed on his face.

"Y-yah.... Don't say things like that when I don't know if you're serious or not. Don't make my heart flutter just like that."

Jung Wooyoung:

For once, Wooyoung didn't get wasted with you. In fact, he wanted to stay sober just to see if the alcohol in your system would reveal your true feelings for him, since he knew you had no filter when you were drunk. But so far, it seemed you avoided the question.

That was until a girl came up to Wooyoung, flirting with him and practically throwing herself at him. That's when you stepped in and confronted her.

"Hey! Hands off what's not yours you skank!" You warned her.

"Who or what are you?" She scoffed.

"I'm the one who's gonna rearrange your bitch face if you keep hitting on him! He's mine you hear?! I called dibs long ago!" You shouted.

Wooyoung chuckled and blushed at your confession.

"Finally, I knew it. I knew you had the hots for me." He said to himself, proud that he got the confirmation he wanted.

"Fight me bitch! Try me!"

Your voice snapped him back and he realized he needed to pull you away before you got into a cat fight over him, not that he'd mind seeing that.

Choi Jongho:

Jongho stood looking unimpressed as your drunken voice was heard through the dozens of voice mails you left him.

"Yah Choi Jongho! Why aren't you answering me?! I have something important to say!"

"You don't have practice so pick up your phone you oversized panda!"

Jongho chuckled at your cute attempt to offend him.

"Why are you ignoring me?! You're so mean! You asshole!"

He rolled his eyes at that. It was 3 a.m when you sent that voice mail, meaning he was asleep by then in the comfort of his bed, completely unaware that you were getting wasted.

The last voice mail was at 5:30 a.m.

"I'm home, I'm crying and I hope you're happy! Hope you're happy that your life is perfect while I'm here suffering cause I love you so much! I love you so much and you don't give 2 damns you fruit murderer! You treat my heart like those stupid apples you split!"

He could hear your sad, depressed sobs.

"I hate you!..... I love you but I hate you!! You and your stupid muscly arms! But oh god how they turn me-"

The last thing he heard was your puking noises before the message ended.

"Aish! Seriously Y/N! You couldn't think of a better way to confess to me?" Sighing, he picked up his jacket, making his way to your house to take care of your hungover ass and get an explanation.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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wonder-kid-pugh · 4 years

Text

First Words - (Rose Lavelle x reader)

Being one of the younger players on the team always meant that the older player and the vets were always going to be protective of you. But with me they took it to a whole other level. I joined the team the same time as Mal. But when I came onto the team everyone on the team thought I hated them.

"Why won't she talk to us?" Emily pouts as I walk over to a table with my headphones in. I guess they thought I couldn't hear them. "Has anyone actually heard her say a word since she's being here?" Kelley asks. Everyone shakes their head before they all turn to Becky who's my roommate but she just shrugs, "She's hasn't said anything to me". "She doesn't even call for the ball in practice" Pinoe sighs. Tobin shrugs, "Maybe she's just shy. I mean she's seems cool". Although I do stay near Becky and Alyssa I do drift near Tobin always finding the two of of us juggling the ball together before training.

"But what if we did something wrong?" Christen frowns. I bite the inside of my cheek as I pretend to check my phone. I never meant for them to think they did something wrong. They had been so welcoming and kind trying to involve me in their conversations or inviting me to hang out with them. They always tried to get me to talk to them and I wanted to.

It was the fact that I couldn't

I guessed I must of zoned out as I'm snapped out of it by someone sitting across from me. I look up from my plate to see Rose was now sitting across from me with a smile, "Can I ask you a question?" I just nod my head expected her to ask me the obvious question. But I'm surprised when instead she shows me her phone, "Which dog do you think is cuter?"

I look at her in shock and I guess she sees that as she frowns, "What? Please don't tell me your a cat person". I let out a snort and shake my head making her smile, "Good now which one do you think?" She asks again. I lean in front and look at her phone. The first one was Siberian husky puppy with adorable bright blue eyes. While the other was a Pembroke Welsh corgi with white and brown fur. I look over both of them for a few more seconds before pointing at the husky.

A big grin spreads across her face, "I knew it! Lindsey kept saying the corgi but just look at his little blue eyes! I mean they're both adorable but I just can't get over how blue his eyes are". She starts to ramble on about the puppy and I can't help but smile at her. She kept ranting about the blue eyed puppy which was ironic as her own blue eyes seemed to sparkle talking about the dogs.

"Y/n? You okay?" She asks making me shake my head at the thoughts. I just point at her, "Me? She asks pointing at herself. I bite my lip and grab my phone before quickly typing out a message and passing her my phone. She tilts her head at me before taking the phone. I try to ignore the spark when her fingers graze mine. Instead I chuckle at the blush on her face as she reads the message.

"Your eyes sparkle just like the husky's"

Honestly after that some of the team didn't know what to do with me. Some left me alone just happy that they hadn't done something wrong to make me feel out of place. But people like Kelley and Sonnett made it their mission to get me to talk to them.

"So who are you rooting for to win the league this year Y/n?" Sonnett asks. Kelley and Sonnett thought that if they kept asking me open ended questions that I it would force me to speak to them. I had become their latest challenge as they were determined to be the one to get me to talk.

If only they knew

"Definitely the Royals right Y/n?" Kelley grins looking at me but I just shake my head. "Who are you supporting so?" I tug on Rose's sweatshirt making her look at me only for me to point at the badge over her heart making the two frat daddies scoff, "Your cheering for the Spirit?" I nod making Rose smile beside me as Mal teases Kelley and Sonnett.

I cuddle in beside Rose as they are about to start the film and I smile widely as I feel Rose wrap her arm around me as well. As the movie ends and everyone's about to head back to their room Sonnett turns to me, "Did you like the movie Y/n?" I nod as I get up and walk over to Becky who's waiting for me by the door. But before we leave i hear Emily sigh.

"Are you ever going to talk to us?"

I freeze for a second before I continue walking not even stopping to wave goodbye to them. I can hear Becky follow me as I walk into my room and dropping onto my bed. "You okay Y/n?" The centre back asks as she looks at me with concern. I just nod lightly before looking down and playing with my fingers. I hear her sigh before she sits down beside me, "Don't listen to Kelley and Emily. They're idiots and they don't understand that not everyone is loud like them. You don't have to do anything your not comfortable with. We just want to make sure that your happy and working hard with the team okay?"

I nod and smile at her before surprising her with a hug which she returns. As she leaves for the bathroom to get ready for bed, I check my phone as the screen lights up with a message.

Are you okay?

I smile at my phone my heart lifting at the thought of the spirit midfielder worried about me. I shake my head ridding it of any thoughts of her remotely returning my feelings and send off a quick message before turning in for the night.

👍🏻

I think after that the team just accepted that's how I was. Kelley and Sonnett although they kept trying they dialed it back no doubt due to the team talking to them. It was only at my second camp that they learned the true reason behind my silence. They were shocked to say the least.

"Yes Clicker!" Tobin laughs as I nutmeg Lindsey before I continue running down the wing. I couldn't help but laugh at the nickname the team gave me. Tobin called me that after practice one day when everytime I wanted the ball I would click my fingers. After that it just stuck with the rest of the team calling me that as well.

Sonnett steps up trying to tackle the ball off of me but I keep close control of the ball and I end up putting Sonnett on her ass before crossing the ball for Christen to volley it into the net.

I grin and jog over and hug Christen before they call an end to practice with my team winning. "That was incredible Clicks!" Tobin laughs as she wraps her arms around me and Christen making the forward laugh, "That was an amazing run Y/n". I blush at their compliments before beaming up at them.

"Better look out for this one Heath. She'll be coming for your title soon" Pinoe jokes. "I hear your starting in the match against Mexico. Are your parents coming to watch?" Ali asks me. The smile on my face drops and I just shake my head. This makes the other frown as well, "Why not?" I just shrug and look down at my cleats digging them into the turf.

Kelley sensing that I was uncomfortable with the topic tries to lighten it up. "Well if you play like you did today then they don't stand a chance. I think the best part was when she put Sonnett on her ass" Kelley sniggered making everyone else laugh while Sonnett pouts. The blonde defender looks at me but I just wink at her making her wrap me in a headlock.

I squirm before I push her off my harshly as I look at her in fear. I pushed her so hard that she fell to the ground making everyone look at us. Emily looks at me bewildered as my breathing starts to get heavy as I out my hand on my neck. I close my eyes trying to calm down enough to get my breathing normal but nothing works.

Next thing I know is someone grabs my hand dragging me away. I let them pull me along wanting to be anywhere else but here at the moment. When we finally stop in the hallway to the dressing room I feel them hug me tightly guiding my head into the crook of their neck. "Hey it's okay. Everything's okay. Your safe I promise. Now I need you to breathe with me okay?" They say soothingly. I recognize her voice instantly and the smell of her perfume relaxes me slightly as I nod into her neck. Her hands rub up and down my back as she coos in my ear, "Follow my breathing. In and out. That's it. That's good Y/n".

I keep following her breathing for a bit longer before it finally goes back to normal and I sink into her embrace. She just holds me a little while longer before she pulls back just enough to look at me, "You okay Y/n?" I just nod finding comfort in her bright blue eyes. "I'm going to bring you to Dawn okay?" She asks and I just nod again.

She takes my hand again but this time walking beside me rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand reassuringly. She brings us over to the sideline where Dawn looks up at us worried, "What wrong Y/n?" I just lean into Rose laying my head on her shoulder as she explains, "Sonnett got her in a headlock and freaked her out a bit".

Dawn looks at me with pity, "I'm getting that triggered it?" I just nod making Rose look at me in concern, "Triggered what?" Before Dawn can say anything the rest of the team come over. "You okay Y/n?" Becky asks looking me up and down. I nod while Alex looks at me, "What happened?"

I sigh and look at Dawn, "Want me to tell them?" I nod and she looks at me softly, "All of it?" I gulp but nod before leaning back into Rose who wraps her arms around me.

Dawn sighs as she looks at the rest of the woman, "Y/n grew up in foster care. She never knew her parents and she was moved around a lot as a kid. She didn't have the best experience living in the system". Dawn pauses for a second before steeling herself and continuing, "In one of those homes it wasn't great. Her foster parents verbally abused her. And one night her foster father attacked her and nearly choked her to death".

Everyone is quiet as they all digest what Dawn has told them. I can feel Rose's arms hold me tighter. "Oh Y/n" Becky breathes out who looks on the verge of tears. Christen who is crying lets out a few sniffles along with some other players. "She's hasn't spoken since then and doctors says that she was so scared and traumatized by it that she developed selective mutism because of it".

Kelley frowns looking extremely guilty, "That's why you haven't talked to us. Because you can't". I just nod while Sonnett looks at me with tears streaming down her face, "I'm so sorry Y/n". Everyone is quiet no one quiet knowing what to say. That is until Rose pulls back from me taking my face in her hands, "This doesn't change anything. Your still the same person as before. This doesn't change who you are".

She looks at me so determined making sure I know she means her words that I can't help but stare back at her in awe. Only tearing my eyes away from her as Becky puts her hand in my shoulder, "She's right. We're your family now".

I start to cry as I pull the two them into a hug which leads to the rest of the team joining in. I nestle my head into Rose's neck as for the first time I finally felt at Home.

And that led them to be extremely protective of me. Whether it be from other teams, fans or the media. They wouldn't tolerate anything negative about me or my unwillingness to speak. Even after 2 years they were still extremely protective of me. They made me feel the safest I've ever felt. And as I sit in my cubbie I realise how important this team is to me.

"Hey, you okay?" Rose asks putting a hand on my leg. I look down at her hand and put my hand on hers and interlock our fingers making the both of us smile.

"I love you guys"

Everyone stops talking and instead looks in our direction looking at me I shock. But I instead just look down at our enjoined hands playing with her fingers like I usually do. "Did you....just talk?" Rose whispers out. I nod and look up to her dazzling cerulean eyes which are starting to water.

"Yeah"

"Oh my god Y/n! You just spoke!" She exclaims picking me up out of the locker and spins me around in her arms making me laugh. Everyone crowds around us as she puts me back down on the ground, "I just wanted to tell you guys how much I love you. Your like my family". Rose cups my cheeks making me smile and hold her wrists, "God I love the sound of your voice".

Not being able to hold myself back any longer I stare deep into her eyes, "Can I kiss you?" Rose lets out a watery laugh before she nods. I waste no time smashing my lips into hers and she happily returns it. As we break away the entire team cheers us on and smiling at us while I smirk down at Rose who's now breathing heavy unable to speak.

"Looks like I left you Speechless"

#rose lavelle imagines #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine #rose lavelle #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years

Text

The Apartment: part 1

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader

rating/warnings: swearing

synopsis: You knew that living with your three best friends, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto, would be a wild ride. It’s never a dull moment with those three. Let’s just hope you can keep your huge crush on Kuroo a secret when he is only a room away.

a/n: AHH HIII💓omg im so excited to be writing a new fic!! this fic is gonna be different style than my last one but i hope you guys like it!! honestly, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa is the trio we all needed but never got. so enjoy my take on it ;) also there will be a new taglist for this fic so just lmk if you would like to be added! as always, requests and asks are open! okay enough from me, enjoy xx

•

One: Britney Spears poster

“Hey Y/N, can you grab this last box?” asked Bokuto. You nodded, picking up the box labeled ‘kitchen’ from the back of Bokuto’s car. Today was move-in day for your first off-campus apartment. You were beyond excited to start living with your 3 best friends: Bokuto, Kuroo, and Oikawa. From an outside perspective, your friend group would look chaotic and dysfunctional, and it was, but you wouldn’t trade those 3 idiots for anything.

“Okay that’s the last of it,” you said as you carried the box towards the elevator. You rode up with Bokuto and entered your apartment. Brown boxes covered the floor, music blaring from room to room.

“Oikawa turn it down or else we are gonna get a notice on the first damn day!” yelled Kuroo. You laughed as you heard Oikawa shuffle towards the speaker to lower the volume.

“Okay guys, everyone grab the boxes for their rooms so we can start putting shit away,” you ordered. The 3 stooges stood in front of you.

“Yes ma’am,” they called back, giving you a sarcastic salute. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your first box.

Living with your 3 best friends was something you never really thought would happen. You all had joked about it when you were kids but to have it became a reality was another story. You all grew up together so there was no surprise to how close you all were. You may have all gone to different high schools so college seemed like the perfect way to reconnect.

You and Oikawa shared a room while Kuroo and Bokuto shared the other. You and Oikawa had been glued to the hip since birth. You didn’t have many close ‘girl’ friends so Tooru was the next best thing.

“Jeez how many pairs of tiny sunglasses do you have?” you asked, looking down at the arrangement of color coded sunglasses.

“Well Iwachan got me them so I cherish them,” he explained. You laughed and continued to unpack your things.

Hours passed and your room was finally up to your standards. You went for something simple yet still your style. Kuroo and Bokuto had moved on to organizing the living room.

“OIKAWA!” yelled Kuroo. Oikawa jumped, giving you the ‘oh shit I’m screwed’ look.

“How many times do I have to tell you that the Britney Spears poster does NOT belong in the kitchen?” Kuroo clenched Oikawa’s Britney poster, almost to the point of ripping it.

“Oh so now you don’t like Britney but on the whole car ride here you were singing along-“

“OKAY we don’t need to talk about that,” interrupted Kuroo.

“She’s better than your stupid Periodic Table posters...” mumbled Oikawa. You tried to hold back your laughter.

“Hey you take that back! The Periodic Table of seasonings fits perfectly with the kitchen!” barked Kuroo. Oikawa rolled his eyes, snatching the poster from Kuroo’s hands.

“God you are such a nerd,”

“And you are such a tw-”

“DON’T YOU SAY IT!” Oikawa gave Kuroo the death stare. Their playful bickering was your favorite form of entertainment.

“Sorry sorry...twink” Kuroo ran out of the room and Oikawa was now chasing him.

“GOD DAMN IT KUROO!”

You bursted out laughing as you heard a crash on the floor, assuming that Oikawa was now jumping on Kuroo. Bokuto stood at the doorway of your room with a confused look.

“What happened?”

The four of you continued to organize your apartment until nightfall. Once everything was put into place, the boys crashed on the couch and turned on the TV.

“Should I pick up a pizza?” You asked.

“Is that even a question?” joked Bokuto.

“One cheese and one meat-lover?”

The boys nodded enthusiastically. You made the phone call and went to sit on the empty loveseat.

“It’s gonna be about 15 minutes,” you explained. The boys gave you a thumbs up.

“Guys we did it, we’re actually living together,” gushed Oikawa.

“Don’t go and get soft on me now Shitty-kawa,” you laughed. Oikawa turned to you and groaned.

“Y/N you ruin everything damn it. I’m trying to be a good, sentimental friend, and you just-“ you interrupt Oikawa by moving to the couch and jumping on him.

“JESUS Y/N I’M FRAGILE!” He complained as you sat on his lap.

“And you wonder why you’re a piece of shit,” you gave him a sarcastic hug. “But seriously, I’m so happy to be living with you morons. We’ve been dreaming about this forever.”

“Yeah, crazy to think we actually did it,” smiled Kuroo.

“I LOVE YOU GUYS!” yelled Bokuto. You laughed.

“Bring it in guys,” you pulled Kuroo and Bokuto towards you and Oikawa for a tight hug.

“Oh so when Bokuto gets sentimental it’s totally fine...”

“Shut up Shitty-kawa and enjoy the hug.”

“Who is coming with me to pick up the pizza?” you asked. Oikawa was asleep on the couch and Bokuto was very invested in the episode of ‘Gilmore Girls’ that was playing.

“I’ll go,” said Kuroo.

“Okay come on then. We’re taking your car,” you snagged Kuroo’s car keys off the counter and ran out the door.

“Y/N-chan there is no way I’m letting you drive my car!” you heard him yell from inside the apartment. You quickly pressed the elevator button and jumped inside. Kuroo’s voice trailed off as the elevator moved down to the first floor. You exited the elevator and thought you had gotten away with driving Kuroo’s car.

“Not so fast Y/N-chan!” Kuroo snuck up behind you, picked you up, and tossed you over his shoulder. He took the keys from your hand and carried you towards the car.

“Tetsurou put me down!” you begged. Kuroo set you down in front of the passenger door.

“If you wanted to win you should have taken the stairs. And I’m driving silly,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes before getting in the car.

You and Kuroo drove until arriving at the pizza place. You waited in the car while he went inside to pay. For some reason, you felt nervous about being alone with Kuroo. You’d been alone with him a million times before, so why was this time any different? Of course, it had nothing to do with the grey sweatpants he was wearing. Or the fact that he drives a stick shift car and his veins popped every time he would shift gears. Or because you have had a crush on him since you were 6-years old. No, that had nothing to do with it.

Kuroo came back, opened the car door, and handed you the pizzas to hold onto. You rested them on your lap as the two of you drove back.

“I’m glad we’re are finally living together,” said Kuroo. You looked at him, the butterflies coming back in your stomach. “All of us I mean of course,” he clarified.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be super fun. Hopefully, we all survive,” you joked. Kuroo chuckled.

“It’ll be fine Y/N-chan,” Kuroo smiled, giving you a pat on the head.

When the two of you got back to the apartment, Oikawa had woken up.

“We are watching ‘Mean Girls’!” argued Oikawa. He was practically climbing on Bokuto for the remote.

“We watched ‘Mean Girls’ last time! I wanna watch ‘Unsolved Mysteries’!” said Bokuto. You couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“Everytime we watch ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ you end up calling Akaashi because you get scared!”

“Pizzas here,” you announced. All fighting ceased the minute you said those magic words. You grabbed some paper plates and napkins and watched as each of the boys piled pizza onto their plates. You grabbed yourself two pieces of cheese pizza and went to sit on the loveseat. Kuroo sat next to you while Bokuto and Oikawa sat on the couch.

“I’m picking what we watch,” said Kuroo. He turned on a volleyball game and of course, there were no complaints.

After stuffing all your bellies with pizza, the four of you decided to head to bed. You said goodnight to Bokuto and Kuroo and were now nestled in your bed. Oikawa laid on his bed.

“How was picking up the pizza with Kuroo?” asked Oikawa. You rolled your eyes.

“It was good,” you muttered. Oikawa laughed.

“Still not over that crush yet are you?” he teased. You groaned. Oikawa was the only one who knew about your crush on Kuroo. You let it slip during one of your all-night sleepovers you two would have when you were kids.

“So what if I’m not, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“You know that if you had just told him during high school, you two could be dating by now.”

You sighed.

“I don’t know. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship and he probably doesn’t even like me. I see no good outcome of him knowing,” you explained.

“You’ll never know unless you tell him.” As much as you hated to admit it, Oikawa was right. There was always the 1% chance that Kuroo would like you back. But, the friendship you two had didn’t seem worth risking. You just hoped that living together wouldn’t stir your feelings out of proportion.

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghmusings @vangoghpoets @lilnuances]

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #hq #the apartment.🌸#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #hq kuroo #oikawa tooru #bokuto

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witteksaga · 4 years

Text

Close encounter - Jeff Wittek One Shot

Just a lil’ something I wrote, hope you enjoy it! 😌

Warnings: maybe a little angst, it’s more of a fluff

Whenever you were in the same room, there was tension. Of course, only you could sense the heaviness of the air. You liked thinking about the energy his presence was causing. It was distracting from him, because god, you could stare at him for hours. You had to be on alert at all times because he was just so damn handsome, every move of his was mesmerising to you. You had always thought no matter how much of a pretty face someone has, if the way his body moved and all of their grimaces and physical behaviour is attractive, that makes a killer combination in terms of appeal. Well, Jeff not only had a ridiculously beautiful face, but each move of his body was sending shivers down your spine.

However, those were thoughts for your head only. You were all friends - it would be awkward to admit your (quite) inappropriate crush on someone in your closest friend circle. But it was hard as fuck, especially when he often enough would meet your admiring gaze, or would brush your hand when you're walking next to each other, or the very subtle way he always made sure he sits somewhere near you. Call you crazy, but you felt a certain similar energy from his side as well.

This went on for a few months when you first started becoming closer with the group. It happened like it does in the movies - you entered a room full of strangers at a party at David's house, and the moment your eyes met his - you knew you were hooked. You noticed that when a mutual friend introduced you he shook your hand too firmly, it even hurt you a bit. But maybe that was a secretive way to leave an impression on you. It did.

The fact that you had lots and lots in common didn't help you either. You could never have a moment of awkward silence as you always find something interesting to talk about. You felt immense pleasure whenever you two communicated. You just couldn't have enough. And on top of it all, you adored his dark and dry sense of humour. It felt so unique and you felt quite embarrassed when you laughed a little too hard at his jokes.

You were deep into your thoughts, analysing your seemingly normal friendship when a loud voice pulled you back to reality. The reality of a rather busy and intense house party, celebrating yet another ridiculous success of David's.

"Yooo, where the hell are you, I've been looking everywhere for you!" - a rather drunk Natalie said as she grabbed you for your shoulders to help keep her own balance.

"You looked where? I've been in the same place for a while now." - you laughed at your drunken friend as you helped her to find a place to sit and collect herself.

"You've been a bad friend, you left me with the boys and they got me drunk."

"I think you and Todd are even drunker than Zane, that's a new for you, Nat." - you said as you let her sit down on the sofa.

"Well, I needed some courage, you know. I'm tired of acting all cool and collected, I need fun as well.." - her attention was caught by a very drunk Todd who was up at the pool table doing god knows what.

"You go get that boy and have all the fun you want!" - you encouraged her as you knew about her not-so-hidden flirt with the biggest flirt of all the boys.

"I see you're the one taking care of the others again." Jeff said as he appeared from somewhere behind you. Just act as if it's nothing, you thought to yourself.

"Yeah, that's the unfortunate fate of the sober friend, you would know that." You said as you turned around to face him.

"No, I just leave them to see to what extent they can embarrass themselves, so that I can have my fun later." He said as he smiled at you.

"Well then my sobriety works in my favour." You said but then a very loud thud distracted you both. You turned around to see Zane curled on the floor with everyone gathered around him and asking if he's okay.

"Wow, Zane, what did you do?" Jeff pushed everyone around so that he can check if he needs to go to the hospital, you standing close behind.

"My head hurts. And my arm." Zane slurred his words. He definitely needed to go the hospital.

"Okay buddy, hold on to me, I'll drive you to the hospital. "You're coming too." He said as he turned to look at you for a second. "Grab my keys from my jacket." You did as you were told. The drive to the hospital was very quick, with Jeff's mad driving you were surprised he didn't manage to get pulled over.

Zane had a minor concussion and needed to sleep a lot, but otherwise he was okay. You felt really shaken up, only noticing it when Jeff handed you down a coffee and you barely could keep it in your hands and not spill it everywhere.

"Hey, you okay? You're shaking." Jeff said as he took the cup from your hands and left it in the floor next to his foot.

"I just don't understand how he does it everytime, he nearly lost consciousness in the car, I'm just worried." You rambled as you felt your voice trembling.

"You know how he is, he'll be fine, you shouldn't worry now. Come here." He said as he opened his arms and pulled your shoulders towards him, embracing your small frame close to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and breathed in deeply, sensing his cologne and immediately feeling calmer. His head found its way in your hair, murmuring softly "it's okay". The effects this boy had on you were indescribable. You stayed hugged for a while, until you heard someone coughing. You quickly separated and saw David and Heath staring at you.

"Everything okay?" David asked.

"Yeah, man, he's sleeping right now and then we'll take him home. He hit his head a bit too hard but he'll definitely live." Jeff explained as he again put the cup of not-so-hot coffee in your hands.

"You guys seem really tired, why don't you head home, me and Heath will wait and take him home." David offered as he saw the state you were in.

You opened your mind to protest but Jeff's response was quicker. "Okay, call me when you get home." He said as he tapped Heath's shoulder and motioned you to go before him.

You didn't say much in the car, you still felt a bit shaken up and Jeff's close presence wasn't helping with your nerves. He silently parked in front of your building and turned the engine off, rubbing his eyes.

"You wanna come up?" You said without thinking, seeing as he was just as tired as you. "You're tired and it's better if you can rest a bit." You tried explaining.

He looked at you and smiled a little as he said okay. You led the way up the stairs and prayed to calm your nerves, there was so much going on that you felt a bit too much of all of it.

"Just make yourself comfortable. You want something to drink?" You said as you wondered around your little kitchen while Jeff threw himself in the couch.

"Just water, thanks." He said as he took the remote and turned the tv on. He flicked through a few channels and then switched to Netflix and looking though what you've been watching last. You handed him his water and sat next to him. He immediately turned to look at you and just stayed like that. His intense stare made you very conscious until you decided to ignore it.

"Why don't we hang out more?" He asked, still staring at you.

"We hang out all the time, what do you mean?" You were genuinely confused.

"No, I mean just you and me. I feel like you avoid me sometimes."

Oh crap. You had to think of something and quick. "Well, our friends' unfortunate incidents bring us together, so maybe if more of that happens." You tried to use humour to get around his question.

Jeff smiled a little and looked down at hands. "Just promise me that you're not avoiding me on purpose. I wouldn't like it if I knew you don't like to spend time with me."

You were surprised at his vulnerability. You never thought he cared that much what other people think.

"Jeff, I love spending time with you, I don't know why you think otherwise, you know how highly I think of you. Don't ever question that."

His smile grew a bit more as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't used to this level of intimacy with him but somehow it felt too good to question it. You relaxed your head on his chest and just enjoyed the moment. He shifted a little, then pressed a feather light kiss on top of your head and continued holding you close. You felt as calm as can be and you soon started to drift of to sleep. Jeff had his head leaning on the couch, lips still slightly pressed into your hair. You both fall asleep almost instantly, just happy to be in each other's arms.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek fanfiction #vlog squad

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itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

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Merry Christmas Pal

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year all the things! This fic was written specifically for @writethelifeyouwant as part of the SPN secret santa gift exchange but I hope we can all enjoy a little bit of smut this holiday! They said I had the freedom to write whatever I choose so enjoy this slightly wincestiel project! Also shout out to @negans-lucille-tblr for suggesting this great idea!

Word Count: 2,649

"Dean?"Cas called out as he grappled with the seatbelt. They had just pulled up to Madeline's house, Dean was already practically up the stairs, Sam stopped short and helped Castiel from the Impala. The street was decorated neatly for the holidays and Madeline’s small house specifically was lit to perfection.The boys quickly hurried behind Dean,reaching your steps just in time to pick an unassumingly provocative pose as you opened the door.

The men were dimly lit by the lantern on your porch but you were not at all surprised by the rag-tag group the night had brought in. You had often opened your home to fellow hunters but, very few marked as memorable as the Winchesters.

"Who's the friend?" you ask calmly motioning toward the trench coat.

"Hi. I'm Castiel" the man stepped forward with him arm outstretched. Your eyes bounced from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean again.

"Come in." you say turning your back to them and moving through the doorway into your home.

"We really didn't mean to barge in on you like this Mads. We just had the craziest couple of days and really need a place to crash."

The boys looked like they had been through hell. It had been a while since the last time you saw them, and if we're being honest you were doing your best to contain the excitement. The last time the boys were here you had all stayed up drinking, and reminiscing which had led to a confusing yet thrilling three-way in the middle of your living room.

Infact, everytime a Winchester had stayed in your home an encounter was bound to happen. Years ago when John had visited you for the second time, after hunting down a particular ghoul was the first night with a Winchester for you. God, just thinking of John's deep silky voice now makes your toes curl. The way he'd emphasized the slowness of that night. you must've had sex for hours and it still hadn't seemed like enough. John was brilliant at dragging out your orgasm, building it in you until you called out his name. That night he had you pressed up against your fridge, jeans around your ankles as he slammed into you, asking you over and over again 'who's your daddy?'. You didn't peg him for liking the daddy kink. I mean, he so obviously was one but, most hunters tended not to go for the obvious bent. You had found most hunters wanted to cry, make love and play house for a few hours before returning to their sad motels and continuing with their even sadder lives usually in a quest for revenge and usually you never saw them again. But John was different , John would visit you often and when his boys began looking for him , your address was a prominent stop in the state. Apparently, he had left behind proof that the two of you had been together.Strangely sentimental for a very mature man who's surety of himself caused him to remain a mystery. He was a good amount older than you but that never seemed to matter.The few minutes of reminiscing had caused a wetness to pool in your panties and you already felt yourself gearing up for whatever the younger Winchesters could possibly have in store. But, what was this third man doing here?

You had invited the men to sit in the living room while you heated up leftovers and prepared drinks. The new one preferred not to eat but he drank in time with the boys. As you served Dean he wrapped an arm around your waist,Sam was overflowing with compliments of your food but,Cas sat there nodding lightly as Sam and Dean filled you in on their latest hunts. As the night wore on, after your fourth or fifth trip to the fridge to freshen someone's beer you sat down next Castiel. He seemed so nervous and cold. When Sam and Dean excused themselves to bring in bags from the car and lock up the Impala for the night you found yourself unable to sit in the sullen silence anymore. You found yourself standing in front of the sink, washing dishes and looking for the right words.

"So Castiel?" you asked, turning all your attention toward him as he helped you finish with the dishes. "How did the boys talk you into spending your holiday here?"

"Well, Dean says your food makes it the best place to stay, especially around christmas time. And I think he's also hoping you will decide to have sex with me."

You whirled from the sink to face him setting your mug on the counter.

"And what makes him think that?"

"No idea, I told him I haven't had much luck with human women." he shrugged completely unembarrassed.

" And why do you think that is ?" you said more sarcastic than interested

" Because I'm a virgin, and Dean says no man should die a virgin.And also it's apparently great after a hunt." he sighed, shaking his head. At this moment Dean and Sam came back through the door carrying bags, one small pink gift bag caused your eyebrows to crease. Dean dropped the bags by the door as Sam came over to you with the small one.

"A token of our gratitude for allowing us to spend the holidays with you." You looked quizzically from Sam to Dean, then to Cas.

" I promise it's not truck stop food." Cas said. That caught you by surprise that you laughed out loud at one of his jokes. It was an evergreen candle. Basic but, it was nice to know that the boys were thinking of you. "Thank you guys." you smiled as Sam stepped in for a hug. He was obviously the one who had picked out the candle. You came down from the hug and you turned to Dean to ask "So, what's this about Cas coming to my house to lose his virginity?" Dean turned to look at Cas, Sam's jaw dropped open.

"You told her?" Dean was obviously frustrated with his friend, I guess he was nervous it would make you not want to hook up at all.

"Well I was going to have to find out at some point right ?" you laugh trying to lift the mood.

"Dean wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable" Sam quickly jumped to the rescue "We just want Cas to have an interaction with a woman he can trust you know when we're working anyone could be a demon or a monster it's not a popular line of work and - and-"

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it ." You reply looking directly at Cas " If I'm being honest it's always been a bit of a kink of mine to be someone's first."

Now it was Dean's turn to have his mouth hang open.

"Great! So should we go upstairs?" Cas exclaimed.

"Wait Cas, are you sure that like- you're ready now?" Sam's face was so earnest

"Yup!" Cas said making his way towards the stairs. You stepped towards him.

"Hold on" you said, reaching for the lapels of his jacket. He allowed you to slide it off of his shoulders. the boys watched in silence as you draped the coat over the bannister and slowly undid his tie. You added his tie to the bannister and stepped in closer, sharing the air with him. He immediately leaned in and kissed you. You were slightly stunned by the confidence but also intrigued. He was a sweet kisser, smooth and calm, his tongue moved, calculated. A hand lightly caressed the curve of your lower back into your butt. You could tell it wasn't Cas's hand,this hand was larger and rougher. The hand moved to the front of your body and you could feel it working it's way toward your core. As nervous as you were, you couldn't get over the excitement of having multiple men at once.

"Get on your knees" the man behind you was definitely Dean,you do as he says. You situate yourself on the floor as Dean reaches over you and undoes Cas's pants. His cock spills out and you watch as Dean slowly jerks him. You turn your head to find Sam sitting in the living room a few steps away with his pants around his ankles, watching. His strokes were different from Dean's; they were long, slow strokes. He catches you staring at him and smiles.

"I think you're supposed to be focused on Cas." Sam says smoothly , you turn your head back to face Cas."Open your mouth." Dean directs, Cas lays himself lightly on your tongue .

"She's so pretty like this Dean." Cas says staring down at you. You close your lips around him and begin to suck him off, he moans loudly.

"Even better than you thought it would be huh?" Sam laughs. You look up to see Dean kissing Cas above you and are instantly more turned on than you expected to be. You didn't know Dean was even remotely interested in men. Something about being completely unaware of his preferences made you so intrigued, he was like his father, unknowable but, in this way you knew more about him than any other hunter. You sped up on Cas's member and he moaned into Dean's lips. He couldn't take the pressure anymore, he explodes into your mouth with cries of "I'm cumming". Dean smiles at him but directs you to “stand up. I wanna taste him.” You get up and Dean immediately whirls you around shoving his tongue down your throat.He pulls away saying "Give Cas sometime to recover sweetheart, go ride Sammy's dick." he smacks you on the ass as you saunter towards Sam. By this point he has completely undressed on your couch, he extends a hand towards you and helps you settle yourself on top of him. He runs a hand up your thigh and you see his eyes widen.

" You're so wet from sucking Cas. Why is that?" he smiles, slowly narrowing his eyes.

"Because she's a slut" Dean says as Sam sinks two fingers into you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at Sam.

"Is that what it is?" he asks, pulling his fingers out and lightly smacking your pussy."Are you a little slut?" He smacks again, harder this time." Yes-yes I'm little slut ." you voice says shakily, betraying you. "Come here." he motions, lowering you onto him. He gasps as you ride him, his fingers digging in deeper into your hips. You press down,staring into his eyes. He flips some hair from his face, and begins pushing into you faster. He brings a hand up to your face "You feel so good....wow." That was enough to send you over the edge, into spasm on Sam’s dick.

"Can't keep it all to yourself Sammy." Dean growled from behind you. "Sam grabbed your hair, bringing your face closer to his "Say you want more." You moaned and nodded in response. "I said it." he pressed, you managed to get more of a grasp on your voice and said "I want more!"

"Come here sweetheart." Dean called out from across the room, Sam pumped into you once more as hard as he could and then lifted you off of him, your legs were so wobbly you could barely stand. And you could fill the mix of the two of you sliding down your thighs. Dean must've noticed your unsteadiness and said "Don't walk''. You froze, looking up at him.Trying to follow the rules but, also knowing the need for your next orgasm would outweigh the want of the command especially, with the added bonus of bucking against Dean's dominance. His eyes looked from Sam, sweaty and spread out on the couch to Cas,who had barely managed to get himself back together after his last orgasm.

"See that's why I always liked you baby. You let the boys have their fun but, you know who's always gonna give you what you want." Your pupils blow out at that praise.He sets his eyes on you with a cold gaze.

”Crawl." he commands clear as day. Your body wanted to go to the floor anyway. You settle on your hands and knees and move slowly towards Dean. Placing one hand in front of the other, your knees dragging on the hardwood as you pass the skirt of your own christmas tree. "See that ass moving Sammy.That's why we love Mads, Cas. That's why." You reached the space in front of Dean "Turn around."

You did as you were told so that your hands were laying flat on your rug on all fours, and you could feel as he got on his knees behind you and entered. You cried out immediately, his hand curled around your throat and as he lifted your chin Cas's dick came into view.Cas got on his knees in front of you Dean used his other hand to steady you and pull your hair turning your face up to meet Cas. "Kiss his it sweetheart" you lightly lay a peck on Cas's member, knowing it would immediately cause a rise in Dean. "Put your mouth around his pretty cock"he says lightly. You do as he says, Cas holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat. "O you take him so good sweetheart. Swallow him.” he breathed“ You're such a good girl." You saw Sam's tall body come into frame,next to Cas."You're so good babygirl, you're taking me so well" he cooes. You can feel your core tightening and you worried that if you come another time you might break. Dean is fucking you hard now, strong , lustfilled pumps. "Cas come here." Dean calls"I want to watch you inside her.Dean pulls out of you only to be immediately replaced by Castiel's slow, agonizing strokes. Sam is smiling down on you and taking in the expanse of his naked body is enough to send you over the edge. You feel yourself clamping down on Cas and you cry out telling Dean that you can’t hold it any longer. "Cum for me baby." he commands "Come all over Cass, show him how much you like it." You scream out shivering over Cas's cock. The men give you a moment to recover then you feel Dean pulling you up. "Sit on your knees baby." his voice has softened now. "We're gonna come on you okay? Be a good girl and play with your tits for us. You follow his directions and before you know it all three are springing thick ropes of cum from their cocks, moaning in unison and screaming your name. The room falls quiet for a moment and all you can see are the warm lights of the christmas tree,your body immobilized and your brain flooding with serotonin. Dean gathers you in his arms and sits there holding you, telling you what a beautiful girl you are. Eventually, Sam emerges from your bathroom with a towel and both Sam and Cas clean you up wiping the sticky liquid from your body. Sam and Cas laid sprawled out on the floor, you curled in Dean's arms. Sam was propped against the foot of the couch, his hands in his hair as he stared up at the ceiling painting, Cas laid closer to you, his stomach facing the floor and his arms wrapped around a pillow as he looked up at Dean. "Hey Cas." Dean gruffs looking in the direction of the floor.``Yeah?" Cas asks "Merry Christmas pal" Dean says extending an arm to slap Cas on the ass. The room immediately erupts in laughter. I guess this really was all any of you had wished for.

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