#me casually joining the crowd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

therealbeachfox · 2 months

Text

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

16K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 months

Text

Listen, I am working on those promised WIPs, but I've had this idea for a long time now and yesterday I was too sleep deprived to do anything else. This is for my goat leg connoisseurs out there ✊😔 This is just the introduction! More will follow in time.

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

2K notes · View notes

jaylver · 5 months

Text

PINKY RING — S.JY

synopsis: setting up a deal with a frat boy you've just met at a party turned out to be a stupidly cute idea. who knew his drake reference and the deal involving his pinky ring would soon score him a date with you.

pairings: frat boy!jake x afab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, frat boy + football player jake, college au, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, party, alcohol

wc: 2.9k

a/n: a very late contribution to jakeday! this was much longer than planned so i hope you all enjoy it! apologies in advance if the writing sucks since i've been tired all week T-T please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Wandering into a frat party alone was quite literally the least sane thing you've done in a while.

Your best friend, Yunjin, had called you up to meet her at a frat party at the most random hour of the night. The temptation got to you for the worst as you caved in and placed aside your studies in order to get some free booze, even if they're low budget ones.

That only explained why you were there then. Looking between your phone and the sight before you as you walked, trying to get a hold of your friend. She was probably somewhere wasted and you wouldn't be surprised if it was true.

Once you sent her a text announcing your arrival and hoping for a text back, you slipped your phone away and wandered into the kitchen area, further from the crowded area filled with people dancing quite scandalously.

Whatever dodgy concoction they had prepared there, you took some and sniffed it before taking a sip, shrugging in half approval. You'd take what you have. Soon, you settled yourself in by leaning against the counter, pulling out your phone as it had started buzzing.

You were distracted by the chiming of your phone, realising Yunjin texted back and you immediately replied back. She was, in fact, somewhere in the house, except she was with a guy. Wait, a frat boy, Jay Park? Oh, you've heard of him.

You didn't want to say much and just texted her back to call you when it's time to leave, or if she's even leaving at all. Meanwhile, you were unaware of the additional presence who had wandered into the kitchen as you typed out your last text.

“Oh—hey,”

You glanced up from your phone the moment you pressed 'send', staring back at a guy that you swore you've seen somewhere before, he was too familiar. He wasn't just a guy though, he was a hot one. Backwards cap on, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans, dyed blond hair peeking out from his cap.

That was a sight to see.

“Hey,” you could tell he wasn't expecting your presence in the kitchen just the same as you were.

The corner of his lips twitched, head tilted to one side. “New around here? I think this is the first time I've seen you at our party,”

Our? Was he a part of the frat?

“I don't usually wander into frat parties,” you shrugged, and he nodded, smiling.

“I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Sim. I'm a part of the frat, we usually have these types of parties on the weekend,” he extended his hand out for a handshake, to which you accepted, staring a little too longingly at his pretty hands and fingers. Don’t be a creep.

“Am I missing out? I'm Y/N L/N,”

“Well, Y/N, maybe you are,” an apparent accent flowed from his voice, and the way he said your name shouldn't have made you scream inside. “You should come by more often, I'd love to see more of you here,”

“We'll see. I wasn't even meant to be here, but my friend called and I thought ‘why not’ so here I am,”

“It's fated, then. We're meant to meet,” he clapped, lips stretched into a cheery smile that had you swooning.

“I suppose it is,” you let him join your side in leaning against the counter, feeling the fabric of his hoodie brushing against your bare skin. “You know, you look very familiar to me, I think I've seen you before,”

“Yeah?” His tongue swept across his bottom lip, eyebrow quirking with interest.

“Football team. It's you, isn't it? The striker,”

“How did you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and you were in disbelief as well. He was much different compared to what you remembered.

“My friend's on the team too, Kim Sunoo,”

“Him!"

“Yes, him! I went to one of the matches and you scored in it, it was a great match," you could still recall the faint memory of Jake scoring, his name blasting from the speakers, back when his hair was coloured black.

“Wow,” Jake stared in amazement, his smile never wavered, only widening. “We're much connected than I thought,”

“We are,” you couldn't help smiling as well, finding his energy contagious and severely intoxicating. You had to turn around and take a sip of your drink as a way to not become flustered around him, but only to notice the rings resting on his fingers.

“Nice rings,” you complimented, and it seemed to be his turn to become flustered. Immediately bringing his hands up for you to look closer and showcasing his rings.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased.

“You have a pinky ring too?” You pointed at his pinky, noticing the silver ring gleaming under the light.

“Pinky ring till I get a wedding ring,”

It didn't hit you until a beat later. He was quoting Drake.

“Drake? Seriously?” A teasing grin travelled to your lips, nudging him slightly ever so naturally. He didn't complain, just reciprocated your smile, seemingly glad that you caught onto his reference.

“Hey, I'm a big fan. Sue me,”

“No judgement, I like Drake too,” you spoke your half truth, shrugging lightly.

Jake turned to look at you, a light sparkling in his eyes, telling you he had something in mind. “Hey, why don't I give you my pinky ring, and the next time we meet, you give it back to me?”

“What?”

“Let fate decide our next meeting. If we bump into each other again, you hand me back my ring, and I'll get your number. Deal?”

“Sounds good,” why were you doing this?

Even as your consciousness was telling you what stupid idea this was, you couldn’t help but feel confident. There was definitely a next time. You were sure of it. Even after Jake slipped his ring onto your pinky, feeling his skin graze against yours, you were confident that fate would bring you to him, or even him to you.

You bid him a small goodbye, watching his bright energy disappear through the door and be left with yourself, wanting him to come back. Did Yunjin and you somehow suddenly share the same taste in men? Frat boys?

Soon, you abandoned your drink and walked out of the kitchen into the party scene. To your relief, you spotted Yunjin waving at you, a tall boy with silver hair standing right beside her. That was probably Jay.

“Oh my God, I thought I lost you,” she engulfed you into one of her warm hugs while you didn't miss the lovesick smile she always had whenever she was around a crush.

“I would say the same for you,” you nudged her slightly, eyeing her romeo of the night.

“Oh—Jay, this is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jay,” Yunjin introduced, and Jay gave you a friendly hug as a greeting. Off the bat, you could tell he was a decent guy despite being in a frat.

“You're not joining your friends for beer pong?” Yunjin pointed out to Jay and you took notice of said beer pong going on across the room.

There he was. Jake. Standing out amongst the bunch of guys that were most likely his friends, catching your attention in an instant. His baseball cap was no longer worn backwards, sleeves rolled up and showcasing the protruding veins decorating the expanse of his arm. He was holding onto a ping pong ball, aiming at one of the red shot cups and eventually shot it in successfully, letting out a loud laugh while throwing his arms up into a flexing pose and hitting his chest.

What a frat boy. But you think he's a cute frat boy. He was an exception.

“Should we leave soon?” Yunjin had to poke your shoulder to gain your attention back to her. At that realisation, you visibly flushed a tinge of pink, coughing and nodding rather stiffly. You could tell your best friend was suspicious of you, but didn’t press on and told you Jay was dropping you two off.

What you didn’t catch onto as you left the room was Jake’s lingering gaze on you.

He was going to get his ring back. He was confident about it.

“You’re telling me you’re missing Jay’s friend?”

“I am doing exactly that,”

He wasn’t just Jay’s friend, he was also his frat brother. Yet, Jay was oblivious you two knew each other, or at least that’s what you think in your perspective.

Telling Yunjin about your happenings from that party was both a good and bad decision. The good part was that she was happy for you. The bad part was realising how predictable you were. In her words, she knew you would fall for Jake especially since you had a weak spot for men with cute smiles. Dammit.

It has been a week since that night at the frat house. To be honest, you could be crazy and just go back to find Jake, but were you going to chase a man like that? No, wake up! But, you were also shamelessly missing him and mulling over the fact that the ring was still on your pinky.

“This is so stupid, why is he waiting on fate to act?”

“I think it’s cute,”

“You’re hopeless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes, but you just laughed, because you, too, knew it was dumb. A stupid game that tortured you but you enjoyed the anticipation as well. “Anyway, Jay’s going to a football match later in the evening, apparently the team is playing. Before you say no, consider this, he’s paying for dinner after,”

“I like him,” you gave her your seal of approval, and from the looks of her giddy smile, she was satisfied.

Yunjin was more than happy when she led you through the stands, locating where Jay was sitting. You threw a knowing glance at her, to which she noticed and only rolled her eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile, saving an even brighter smile for your best friend. It was sickening, but in an affectionate way.

Realising how you were third wheeling, you took the queue and left, wandering down the stands to get a closer look at the field. You figured that'd be a better idea now that you realised the team was warming up there.

“Y/N!” you were barely halfway down the stairs when you heard your name being called, a familiar face running towards you.

“Jake!” You jogged a little, reaching the barrier that separated the stands and the field, essentially separating you and Jake as well.

“You're here! At a football game,” he breathed out in a daze, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him.

“Jay brought me and Yunjin here,” you slyly pointed at the duo that sat further up the stands, meeting Jake's playful smirk. You two had the same thought in mind. “Oh right—pinky ring,”

You raised up your right hand, his ring still wrapped around your pinky. At that, Jake's eyes only lit up, flickering between your face and the ring, his smile growing wider.

“You wear it everywhere?”

A rush of heat spread across your cheeks, you found yourself shying away from his gaze. “I didn't know where I'd find you,”

“Guess you finally found me, and I found you too,”

“I'm glad,” you fidgeted the ring mindlessly, looking between it and Jake before you realised the deal. "Should I hand it back to you first?”

“No—wait—maybe after the game?” His indecisiveness was killing him, and having you standing in front of him, it made him extra jittery, he was grateful the barriers were there. “I have a feeling you wearing it will somehow pass on good luck to me,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile pulling at your lips. “Don't know how that works, but I'll do whatever you say,”

“It's true! It's called intuition. I'll win the game and score a goal,” he said ever so confidently, a grin that was challenging your doubts.

“I believe you,” you said in between giggles, unaware of Jake's smile growing wider as he watched you laugh. “Go and win this one like you always do,”

“I will! Meet me after the game! Get your number and the ring ready,” he casted a wink at you, waving a small momentary goodbye before joining his team back in warming up.

You eventually joined the two lovebirds and waited for the game to start, a certain feeling of giddiness bubbling in your abdomen. When it was finally time, you watched intently as the referee blew the whistle and the home team began the game. The number five on his back was easy to detect, your eyes followed it the whole time as he ran past defenders and scored a goal.

You and your friends jumped out of your seats in excitement. Yelling and cheering the moment you heard his name being blasted from the speakers. He did prove you right, he scored a goal. The next thing you knew before you could even process it was him pointing up at you. It was clearly directly at you, no mistake at all. As cliche it could get, he sent you a flying kiss, and you only matched his energy, catching it and laughing like some school girl.

He was soon tackled by his teammates and whisked away to resume the game. You were left in the stands smiling like a fool, unable to hide your happiness and blushing cheeks even though people around you had witnessed it whole, including your own friends. But who cares, right?

The game ended with the home team winning and obviously, everyone was in great spirits after. You told Yunjin that you’re finding Jake first, and as she left with Jay, you swore you heard him asking ‘since when did they know each other?’

Heading down the stands, you spotted Jake immediately. The team was still lingering around the field, but the second Jake’s eyes landed on you, he excused himself and ran towards you. The widest smile was present on his face, he was shining brightly under the dark skies.

“Hey!” he pulled you in a hug, reaching over the barrier for you. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it. It was his presence and tight hold that you focused on.

“Congrats on the win! You did great,” you said as you pulled away, reciprocating his smile.

“Thank you. It’s nothing,”

“Okay, you scoring a goal is not ‘nothing’,”

“But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes at him, hating that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Whatever,” you said dismissively, earning a light laugh from him. You took the chance to slip the ring off your pinky, taking his hand in yours, instantly surprising him since it was a totally unexpected move. “Your pinky ring, as promised,”

“Oh, almost forgot,” he let you slip the ring back to the original spot, feeling your touch on his skin and reeling from your close proximity.

“As for my number … I’ll give it to you once you’re done, I don’t have anything to write on,” you waved your phone in hand, casting him an apologetic smile.

“It’s totally fine. Will you be willing to wait?”

“I’m alright with it. I thought you’re joining us for dinner?”

“Right, Jay told me,” he snapped his fingers, recalling his friend’s text message. How could he have forgotten? He almost asked you out for dinner later as a date.

“He’s paying,”

“Sweet,” he basically hollered, punching the air stiffly and you laughed at his demeanour. He’s so weird, but in a cute way.

Jake was biting on his lips once a short silence settled between you two. You could tell he was pondering and thinking about his next words. That sweet smile returned back to his lips. “Can I take you out for dinner soon?”

How could you say no?

“I’m down. Definitely yes,”

Jake almost looked relieved, but there was also a sparkle that you saw in his eyes that shined brightly once you’ve given him your answer. You could feel your own heart swelling at the sight of him. His gaze held everything he needed to say. He stared at you with a kind of longing and pining that you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Great, fantastic,” Jake whispered under his breath, seemingly in disbelief and his dazed look only made you giggle. “I’ll catch up with you after I shower, give me some time and wait for me!”

“I will! The three of us will wait for you so go wash up,”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in surrender, hesitant to walk away as he wished to talk to you more, but he stank and was covered with sweat, so he didn’t have much choice.

“Wait for me!” he said, slowly inching away with the silliest grin, eyes crinkling at the edges.

You responded by gesturing your thumbs up, watching as he turned his back on you, but not even a second later he turned his head back, a small smile still remained. He then started jogging towards the benches, and you definitely didn’t miss his excited jump.

How were you supposed to survive that dinner date with an endearing, sweet and cute guy like him?

The truth was, you weren’t.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun

2K notes · View notes

7ndipity · 2 months

Text

“Eyes On Me”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you visit Yoongi on the set of the Haegeum music video, you realize you might have a slight thing for his Agust D persona.

Word Count: just under 1.7k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, Dom Yoongi, light degradation, slight mirror sex, mentions of voyeurism, unprotected sex(pls don’t do this), swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You were practically vibrating with excitement as your car pulled up to the filming location. Usually, Yoongi liked to keep a certain level of separation between his work life and you, but since he was going to be filming as his Agust D persona, which he knew you had a more than slight obsession with, he’d asked if you wanted to join him on the trip to Thailand.

Naturally, you’d agreed immediately, loving any opportunity to show your support for him, and also knowing, whether he admitted it or not, that he was slightly nervous about being without any of the other members. Plus, there was no way you were about to pass up the opportunity to see him as his alter ego in real life.

As you climbed out of the car, you were greeted by one of his staff members, who then led you through the building to where they were currently filming.

Through the crowd of crew members, you managed to catch sight of him as he was talking with the director, clad in a patterned shirt and dark jeans, the necklaces around his neck catching the light as he moved, his hair, which you’d developed an obsession with since he started growing it out longer, was styled in a gorgeous mess of tousled waves.

You’d have to remember to thank his styling team later, his look exuded the perfect balance of casual, edgy sexiness, leaving you unable to tear your gaze away.

As you stared at him, he happened to look up and catch sight of you, his eyes lighting up as he sent you a tiny smile and wave, but before you could greet each other any further, the director called action and suddenly your Yoongi seemed to disappear.

As soon as the song started to play, Yoongi’s lips curled into a cocky smirk as he danced around the room, rapping along perfectly with the backing track. As he spun away from the camera, he shot you a quick glance, giving you a sly wink that made your thighs clench involuntarily.

You tried to ignore the stirring heat in your lower belly, but as they continued to film, you became embarrassingly aware of the growing wetness between your legs.

You couldn’t believe you were this turned on from just watching him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him perform before, but something about seeing him like this, with that over-confident swagger and wicked gleam in his eye, had you squirming in your seat to try and subtly alleviate the growing need in your aching core.

After what felt like hours, they finally called for a break, giving Yoongi(and you) time to rest while they reset the cameras for the next shot.

Yoongi immediately made a beeline for you, a sly smile teasing up the corners of his mouth as he looped his arms around your waist in a quick hug.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You nodded, suddenly feeling shy for some reason.

He looked at you quizzically. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You replied innocently.

“Your face is red.” He said, smirking at you.

You looked down, flustered.

He leaned in close enough that no one else could overhear him.

“You know, you’re really not as subtle as you think you are.” He murmured against your ear. “I saw the way you kept staring at me. Care to share what you were thinking about?”

You shivered slightly as his fingers traced along your waist teasingly.

“You just looked really hot.” You admitted.

“Yeah? You like this?” He teased as he pulled back, gesturing to his outfit.

“Mhm.” You nodded, eyes following the way his hands caught hold of one of his necklaces.

“You should see what they’ve got me in later, a full suit with my hair slicked back.” He said in a low voice.

“I like you like this.” You whispered, catching hold of the edge of his shirt as you stared up at him, desperate need clear in your eyes, causing his gaze to darken.

He caught hold of your hand, pulling you along behind him as subtly as possible through the building til he found the spare room that was being used for wardrobe and makeup, which was mercifully empty of staff at the moment.

He quickly tugged you inside, pressing you up against the wall as he kissed you hungerly, his mouth hot and demanding, not at all like his normal gentle touch.

“I only have ten minutes, so you better behave.” He said, pulling back to stare you down with lust blown eyes, grinding his growing erection against your clothed core and causing you to let out a soft whimper.

A flicker of movement in your peripheral caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the full length mirror in the corner of the room, showing off the way Yoongi had you caged in with his body.

Yoongi noticed your gaze and glanced up, his earlier smirk returning.

“Well, isn’t this convenient?” He purred in your ear, pulling you forward and spinning you so you were now in front of the mirror, your back to his chest. “This way you can still watch me, since you like that so much.”

Without breaking eye contact with you in the mirror, he slipped a hand down your front of your pants, teasing you over your underwear, feeling the growing damp patch on the fabric.

“So fucking wet already.” He growled in your ear. “Did seeing me like this really turn you that much?”

“You always make me like this.” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Ah-ah.” He caught your jaw with his free hand, drawing your gaze back to the mirror. “Eyes on me, understand? You look away, you don’t get to cum. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You whispered, feeling a shiver run through your body as you met his gaze in the reflection.

“Sir?” He raised a brow at you in amusement. “Shit, you really are gone for me today, aren’t you?”

Heat flooded your face, but you didn’t deny it, bucking against his hand fruitlessly. “Please.”

He removed his hand from you, making quick work of both of your pants before bending you over, barely teasing the tip of his cock between your folds before thrusting into you without warning, making you let out a small yelp, which Yoongi quickly muffled with a hand over your mouth.

“Careful, Doll, wouldn’t want anyone to hear what we’re doing in here, right?” He mocked as he bottomed out, not giving you time to adjust before drawing his hips back and trusting into you again, quickly setting a harsh pace as your hands shot out to brace against the mirror.

“Or maybe you would like that? Hmm? Want everyone to know what a little slut you are for me?” He adjusted his hold on you, deepening the angle of his thrusts and making you let out another low whine, mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a slutty cunt, just couldn’t fucking wait to be filled, huh?” He grunted, watching the way you fell apart so easily on his cock.

Your hands clutched uselessly at the smooth surface of the mirror for stability, trying to hold yourself up as Yoongi continued to pound into you.

“Y-yoongi.” You whimpered, fighting to keep your eyes open and fixed on him.

“Hmm?” He cocked his head at you. “What is it, Baby?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You pleaded.

“Yeah?” He leaned over you, never slowing his thursts as his hand came back down to find your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the little bundle of nerves and making you shake in his hold.

“Cum.” He commanded.

Almost instantly, your orgasm crashed over you, biting your lip to keep from screaming out his name as you threw your head back.

Taking the opportunity, Yoongi latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the skin and dragging out your release, causing your walls to spasm around him uncontrollably.

“Fuck.” Unable to hold back anymore, he thrusted harshly into you, his hips losing their rhythm as your clenching heat sucked him in, his cock pulsing as he coated your insides with his release.

“Fuck.” He repeated shakily, stilling deep inside of you as he leaned his forehead against your back, trying to catch his breath before pressing a kiss to your skin. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

You laughed shakily, still staring at his slightly fucked-out image in the mirror.

He pulled out, quickly tugging your underwear back into place before anything could escape.

”Keep that in for me, yeah?” He said low in your ear, resting his hand over your abused cunt. “We can’t be making a mess of the set, can we?”

You shook your head, wobbling slightly as you tried to turn to face him, Yoongi’s hands instantly shooting out to steady you.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared earlier, the dark glint in his eyes faded, leaving only the gentle sweetness of your Yoongi staring back at you as he held onto you.

“You alright?” He asked gently.

You nodded. “Just need a minute.” You admitted with another quiet laugh, making him smile in relief before pressing his lips to yours, this time so much softer and full of love.

There was a sudden knock at the door, making you both jump back slightly.

“Yoongi? We’re ready for you on set.”

“Be right there.” He called, never taking his eyes off of you.

He pressed another gentle kiss to your lips before leading you over to sit in one of the makeup chairs.

“You rest, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay?”

“Okay.” You replied, watching as he tidied himself up before heading for the door. “Hey.”

He paused, looking back at you questioningly. “Yeah?”

“Do you think they’ll let you keep that outfit?” You asked with a grin.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll ask.”

“Thank you.” You beamed.

He slipped out the door, mumbling something about “ridiculous”, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

He did keep the outfit though.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts smut #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts requests #7ndipity

993 notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 6 months

Text

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

***

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

***

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

***

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

***

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks.

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

***

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

***

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What��s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen.

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

***

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.

“Yes?” You need something. Anything.

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

***

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers.

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

***

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

***

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds series #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

2K notes · View notes

fushiguro-megloomy · 9 months

Text

home run

a/n: It's finally hereee, baseball player megumi!! 100% took inspo from @withthegraceofthewind 's post here !! I wanted to have this out yesterday but I had such writers block whaaa. i hope you all like it ✧˖°.✧ mwah mwah xoxox // / photos are not mine, check masterlist description for header & banner credits synopsis: you and megumi have been dating a few months when he takes up baseball, and his uniform is just looking a little too good wc: 6.2k i cannot write short things for the life of me lmaoo okay bye. tags: AFAB!reader x baseballplayer!megumi warnings: 18+ only!! not proof read. slightly soft dom megumi, use of sir, good girl, princess, pretty girl etc.. light spanking, hair pulling, very light bdsm, face fucking, use of toys- anyways you get it!!!

“Baseball?”

You asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow to your boyfriend before he’s slumping down next to you on the couch at your apartment. “I didn’t take you for a sports person.”

His eyebrows knit together for a moment before he replied. "Yeah, it's a bit surprising," he admits, "but I didn't have much of a choice. Gojo-sensei practically dragged me into it."

You chuckle, imagining the eccentric sorcerer strong-arming Megumi into joining a college baseball team. "I can totally see that," you say, shaking your head playfully. "Knowing Gojo, he can be pretty persuasive."

Megumi nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Persuasive is one way to put it," he says, amusement lacing his voice. "More like relentless. But I have to admit, it's not as bad as I thought it would be."

You raise an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, really? So you're enjoying it?" you ask, a hint of teasing in your tone.

He glances at you, his gaze softening. "Well, not as much as spending time with you," he replies, and your heart flutters at his sweet words. "But it's not terrible. Itadori can be a pain in the ass during practice, but the team is fun, and it's nice to be active."

You smile, his hard demeanor might hide it at times, but you've come to understand the depth of his feelings through the little moments like this.

"I'm glad you're having a good time," you say, leaning in to rest your head against his shoulder. “and I can't wait to see your uniform.” you tease, poking his bicep.

Megumi's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and he glances down at his bicep as it flexes beneath your touch. "Oh, really?" he says, a playful glint in his eyes.

You can't help but giggle, enjoying the banter with him. "Well, can you blame me?" you retort with a mischievous grin. "Seeing my boyfriend all sporty and handsome in a baseball uniform."

He smirks, feigning a bit of reluctance. "Fine, fine," he says, rolling his eyes playfully. " but keep your expectations low."

The sun beat down as you and Nobara made your way to the bleachers.

The warm, dry air wrapped around you, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass from the baseball field. Excitement buzzed in the atmosphere as the crowd filled the stadium, eager to witness the upcoming game.

As you climbed up the bleachers, you found a comfortable spot with a clear view of the baseball diamond. You couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You’d offered to come to practice many times to support Megumi, but each time he shooed you off and insisted it wasn’t important.

Nobara plopped down next to you, fanning herself with her hand. "Geez, it's hot out here," she complained, trying to shield her eyes from the sun. "I hope the game is worth the sweat."

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Oh, I'm sure it will be," you said, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Nobara grinned mischievously. "Excited to see your man all sweaty and sporty?" she teased, winking at you.

You playfully nudged Nobara, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, it's not just about that," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I genuinely want to support him and cheer him on."

Nobara chuckled, knowing you too well to buy your casual response. "Sure, sure," she said with a knowing smile. "But I can't blame you. Hard to resist a man in uniform."

Before you could respond you hear the crowd start to cheer, the moment finally arrived when the team emerged on the field, and your eyes locked onto Megumi. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him.

Your eyes couldn't help but linger on the details of Megumi's uniform. His normally porcupine-esque hair was tamed down underneath a black cap, although it didn’t stop a few strays from peeking out the sides and back. The tight long sleeved black sports shirt he wore underneath the white jersey emphasized his athletic physique. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow exposing his pale muscular forearms, making your heart skip a beat.

The thin black stripes running up the length of the jersey added a touch of sleekness, making him look even more dashing. You noticed the bold black letters stitched on the back, spelling out "Fushiguro" above the number thirteen. Your jaw dropped slightly ajar, thirteen was your lucky number.

You had shared this little detail with Megumi during one of your late-night talks. At that time, you hadn't thought much of it, just a passing conversation. But seeing him wearing that number now, it felt like he had taken your words to heart and made you a part of his identity on the field. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a deeper bond with him in that moment. It was these little things that made your relationship so special.

But the best part was the pants, you couldn't help but eye him up. The way they hugged him, not too tightly, but when he turned his back towards you, you couldn't help but stare at his-

“Hellooo?!!”

You blinked, snapping out of your momentary daze as Nobara's voice pulled you back to reality, her hand waving in front of your face.

Your cheeks flushed, realizing you had been caught staring. Nobara smirked, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "Lost in a daydream, were we?" she said, her tone laced with amusement.

You stammered, trying to find the right words. "I-I... Uh, I was just, you know, admiring how good he looks." you managed to say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affectionate admiration for Megumi.

Nobara chuckled, nudging you playfully. "Oh, I can tell," she said with a sly grin. "The way you were ogling him, it's written all over your face."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I didn't mean to be so obvious," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks grow even hotter.

Nobara laughed, patting your back reassuringly. "Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said. "You're just appreciating your boyfriend, and honestly, I can't blame you. He does look pretty damn good in that uniform."

You peeked out from behind your hands, giving her a shy smile. "Yeah, he really does," you admitted, feeling a little more at ease with her playful teasing.

You turned your attention back to the field, where Megumi was scanning the crowd. Your heart fluttered as you made eye contact with him, and a warm smile spread across your face. You waved to him, signaling your presence, and he returned the gesture with a nod and a soft smile. Though he wouldn't admit it himself, his heart soared at the sight of you.

Yuji came into view and threw an arm around Megumi's shoulder, you could see your boyfriend's familiar half-annoyed look. It was a common expression when dealing with Itadori's exuberant antics. Yuji waved enthusiastically to you and Nobara, and you both waved back with equal enthusiasm. His grin was infectious, and it was hard not to be swept up in his spirit.

A whistle called the boys away to the dugout for a final huddle before the game began, Megumi shooting you one last faint smile before joining the others. His team was up to bat second.

As the game began, the excitement in the air was palpable. The players were making their rounds, warming up for their turn on the field. Your eyes followed each of them, but your attention always seemed to gravitate back to Megumi. When it was finally the home team's time to bat you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation.

Megumi had a blank expression as he prepared to play, but you knew him well enough to see the determination in his eyes. After a few of his teammates he was up to bat next. When Megumi stepped up to the plate, you held your breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You could feel the tension in the air as everyone watched intently.

The pitcher threw the ball, and with a swift swing, Megumi connected. The crack of the bat echoed through the stadium as the ball soared through the air. Your heart raced as you followed its trajectory, hoping for the best. The ball landed safely in the outfield, and Megumi took off, running with all his might.

The fielders scrambled to retrieve the ball, but it was too late. Megumi reached second base safely, sliding in with a well-executed double. The crowd erupted into cheers as he stood on second base, looking focused and determined. It was an impressive hit, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he stood there, ready for whatever came next.

The game continued, and with each play, you could see the passion and skill that Megumi brought to the field. He was a force to be reckoned with.

You couldn't take your eyes off him as the game continued. The way he moved on the field was captivating, and you found yourself completely enamored with him. Every subtle flex of his muscles, every long stride he took as he ran past the bases, it all had a mesmerizing effect on you. The sweat that formed above his brow only added to his appeal.

Despite the seriousness on his face, you could see the determination in his eyes. As the game progressed, he found himself stealing glances at you whenever he could. He couldn’t help but seek your praise.

As the game reached the seventh inning stretch, the game was nearly tied. Home team was only a point behind. You were filled with excitement at the prospect of a short break. You took the opportunity to make your way down to the field, eager to greet Megumi.

As you approached the dugout, Nobara in toe, you saw him taking a moment to catch his breath. His hair was tousled from the intensity of the game, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. Despite the exhaustion, his eyes lit up when he saw you approaching.

"Hey," you said with a smile, reaching out to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Hey," he replied, his voice a little breathless but filled with affection.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, concerned about his well-being.

"I'm good," he said, nodding. "It's been a tough game, but we're holding up."

"You're doing great out there," you said, unable to hide the admiration in your voice. "I'm so proud of you, thirteen."

A faint blush dusted his cheeks, and he looked away for a moment, as if trying to collect his thoughts. "Thank you," he finally said, his voice soft.

“She’s also been totally checking you out!” Nobara chimed in from behind you with a taunting grin, causing you to shoot her a glare.

Megumi chuckled at Nobara's playful teasing and glanced at you with a faint smile. "Is that so?" he said, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

You blushed, embarrassment flooding your stomach. "Well, maybe a little," you admitted, playfully nudging Nobara to stop her from adding more fuel to the fire.

Nobara laughed, clearly enjoying herself. "See, I told you! Can't resist a man in uniform, huh?" she said, teasingly nudging you back.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "Okay, fine, you caught me," you said, conceding the point.

Megumi's smile widened, and he gave you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and leaned down to catch your lips against his own. It wasn’t like him to initiate pda but knowing you’d been checking him out from the stands gave him a boost of confidence. The softness of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you melted into the gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

Nobara gagged with feigned disgust. "Well, I'll leave you two to your moment," she said, before walking away to catch up with Yuji.

You and Megumi pulled away from the kiss, both of you trying to hide your amused smiles at Nobara's playful interruption. "Such a mood killer," you said, chuckling softly.

Megumi nodded in agreement. "She really knows how to make an exit," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

As Nobara joined Yuji, they exchanged knowing glances, and you could hear her teasing followed by their laughter about the romantic moment they just witnessed. You turned back to Megumi, a playful glint now hinting in his eyes as he looked at you.

“So you like the uniform that much, huh?” He smirked, pulling you closer by the waist.

You couldn't help but blush at Megumi's playful remark. "Maybe I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the glint in his eyes made your heart race.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is that so?" he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Well, I can't blame you. I do look pretty good.”

You felt a mixture of amusement and desire as he teased you. "Confident, aren't you?" you said, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze intense as he looked at you as a smile played on his mouth.

“Well,” You say, your turn to tease. “I have always wanted to get with a baseball player, but only one from a winning team.” Your finger traced down his chest, looking at him through your lashes.

Megumi lips twitched up with a grin, clearly enjoying the playful banter and forgetting to maintain his brooding composure.

"Oh, so you have high standards, huh?" he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

You nodded, feigning seriousness. "Absolutely," you said, playing along. "I can't be seen with just any player. Only the best for me."

Before he could reply the coach called out, and Megumi's playfulness shifted back to his normal straight faced demeanor. The break was over and he was being summoned back to the field. He let out a sigh not wanting his time with you to end, but if you wanted the best player, then that’s what he would be.

He gave you a final squeeze before you returned to the bleachers with Nobara.

As the game neared its nail-biting conclusion, the tension in the stadium reached its peak.

The scoreboard showed a tie of 4-4, and everyone held their breath, anxious to see which team would emerge victorious.

As the clock ticked away, the home team desperately shuffled through players, trying to find the one who could secure that critical extra point. Each attempt came up short, and the pressure mounted with every passing second. Amidst the flurry of emotions, you glanced at Megumi, expecting to see some sign of nerves. But to your surprise, he appeared calm and composed, his demeanor unwavering.

Then, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. It was Megumi's turn – the final batter. The weight of the game rested on his shoulders, and the stadium seemed to hold its collective breath. Your heart pounded in your chest as you clutched your hands together, unable to tear your eyes away from the field. Nobara stood beside you, equally absorbed in the unfolding drama.

He made his way up and stood at the plate, his expression focused. Before the pitcher threw the ball, Megumi's eyes caught yours, and he winked.

The pitcher wound up, and the ball came hurtling towards Megumi. With precision and strength, he swung the bat, and the ball soared through the air. The stadium went silent as they followed the trajectory of the ball. The outfielders scrambled to catch it, but it was clear that Megumi's hit was a powerful one. The ball sailed far beyond their reach.

It was a home run.

The stadium erupted into cheers, and you jumped to your feet, clapping and cheering with joy.

Nobara cheered beside you, clapping her hands with glee. "That's our boy!" she exclaimed, her excitement matching yours.

Megumi had done it—he had secured victory for his team. You watched as he rounded the bases, a small smile playing on his lips. As he crossed home plate, he was met with cheers and applause from his teammates. They engulfed him and nearly lifted him off the ground, celebrating the hard-fought victory.

You tore your way down to the field, eager to congratulate him personally. As you reached Megumi, he broke away from the team and you couldn't contain your excitement. Without hesitation, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist, nearly tackling him to the ground. He caught you effortlessly, a surprised but delighted expression on his face. He chuckled, holding you close as you both shared a moment of sheer bliss.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your enthusiasm. "What was that?!"

He grinned, a mix of pride and something else playing in his eyes. He chuckled, a low and husky sound that sent shivers down your spine. He pulled you even closer, his lips nearly brushing against yours as he whispered,“You said you’d only get with the best players, so”

You gaped, raising an eyebrow. “That was for me?”

His fingers traced delicate patterns on your back, sending a delicious tingling sensation through your body. "Well, I aim to please," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You leaned back slightly, looking up at him with a sly grin. "And you always hit the mark," you said, your voice dripping with playful innuendo.

He raised an eyebrow, his playful smirk never leaving his lips. He paused for a moment, looking at the team and back to you.

“Let’s get outta here, ya?” he said, his voice low and seductive. His fingers squeeze your hips.

“You don't want to celebrate with the team?” You ask, although you know the answer.

Megumi leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I'd much rather celebrate with you in private." His fingers continued to squeeze you, sending a thrilling shiver through your body.

You couldn't resist the allure in his voice and his dark gaze. The idea of being alone with him, away from the crowd, was enticing.

"I guess the team can handle the celebration without us," you said, your own voice cracking slightly with your own desire.

A sly grin spread across Megumi's face as he heard your response. "That's my girl," he whispered, his lips grazing your earlobe before trailing down to your neck. “Let’s go back to your place.”

His touch sent shivers of anticipation down your spine, and you could feel the heat building between you. Without waiting for another word, he took your hand and led you away from the field, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. You followed him eagerly, your heart pounding with excitement.

You barely make it through the door of your apartment, shoes being kicked off, nearly stumbling over each other as Megumi's lips attack yours. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you kiss him back with equal fervor, his cap falling to the floor while you're lost in the intoxicating taste and feel of him. The smell of sunblock and sweat mixed with his cologne filled your nostrils.

"I've been waiting for this all game," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

You couldn't help but smirk, feeling empowered by the effect you had on him. "Well, I'm glad to know I have that effect on you," you teased, biting your lip playfully.

He growls low in his throat, his eyes smoldering with intensity. "You have no idea," he replied, one of his hands slipping under your shirt.

The sensation of his hands on your skin sent shivers of pleasure through your body, and you let out a soft hum, unable to contain the overwhelming desire that surged within you. Megumi's lips left a trail of fiery kisses along your jawline, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair before yanking your head back, exposing your neck.

You gasped slightly and arched your neck to grant him better access, relishing the feeling. With each kiss, each bite, he marked you as his, leaving an imprint on your skin. Your breath hitched, and a whimper escaped your lips. His growl of approval echoed in your ear.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him closer. Before you could move anymore he peeled back from you, releasing his grip from your hair. His eyes were clouded with lust, cheeks tinted red from the heated encounter.

“Bed. Now.” His voice was low.

His commanding tone sent a rush of excitement down to your core, heat now pooling between your legs. You didn't need to be told twice, quickly making your way to your bedroom and clambering onto the soft top mattress.

Megumi was hot on your tail, quick to climb over you and press you into the mattress with another hungry kiss. Your lips part welcoming his tongue, enveloped by his sweet and salty taste. He settles himself between your legs, hips pressing into you in an attempt to gain a little friction on the growing bulge in his pants. You moan into his mouth and wiggle your hips in tandem, earning a low groan from Megumi's throat.

He pulls away, leaving your lips chasing his for a moment before he pushes you back down flush with the mattress. His hands travel down your body, finding the hem of your shirt. You could feel his fingers graze the bare skin, and a soft gasp escaped your lips, fueling his desire even more.

As if in response to your unspoken plea, Megumi moved his hands upwards, teasingly inching your shirt off your body. Your back arched in response, and with a slow and deliberate movement, he finally pulled your shirt over your head.

You can sense the satisfaction pool behind his hooded gaze to see you weren't wearing a bra, your nipples quickly hardening as the air hit them. His head was fuzzy, swimming is the sight of you beneath him, swollen lips and big doe eyes looking up at him with a near teary expression. He went to undo the buttons of his jersey but your hands gripped over his, halting his movements.

"Leave it on," you plead, your voice coming out weaker than you'd hoped, but you could see the desire in his eyes intensify, an amused smirk playing at his lips.

“Fine, but only if you behave, pretty girl.” He growled, grabbing your wrists and holding them together with one large hand.

You nod fervently as his free hand unclips his belt, yanking it from its loops.

“What do you say?” He snaps, grip tightening on your skin.

“Yes sir!” You chirp, squirming slightly under his touch.

He makes fast work of securing the belt tightly around your wrists.

“Good girl.” He relished in the control he had over you, and the power dynamic between you both fueled you even further. “Stay.”

He lifts himself off the bed in one swift movement, and you bite your lip to keep from protesting watching him intently as he opens your bedside drawer. You feel your stomach flutter when he pulls out the vibrator you have stashed there.

He turns his attention back to you, dropping the toy on the bed beside you, and his hands find your ankles. Before you could protest he was dragging you to the edge of the bed, earning a squeal from your lips. He smirked, hands now running up your legs to find the edge of your bottoms, fingers dipping under the fabric. Your hips lifted in response and he made quick work of discarding the rest of your outfit, save for your underwear, a wet spot now visible from your arousal. You could see the way his pupils dilate, tongue jetting out to wet his lips at the sight.

“God pretty girl, you really do like this uniform, hmm?” He growls, swiping a finger over the wet spot.

Your hips buck instinctively and a gasp escapes your lips, head lulling back into the mattress. A sudden slap to your inner thigh causes you to yelp.

“Answer me princess.” His gaze is crushing, yet his tone is soft, controlled. He looks at you expectantly, long fingers dancing over your now stinging skin.

“Y-yes sir! Couldn't stop watching you all game.” You whine, hips twitching as his fingers trace around your hips, coming dangerously close to your throbbing heat before moving away again.

He hums in response, pushing your thighs apart with one hand before grabbing your bound wrists and placing them above your head. You bite your lip with anticipation, watching his calculated movements as he grabs the vibrator flicking it on to the lowest setting. A dull hum fills the room.

“Keep your arms up for me pretty, and don't close your legs on me either.” Again he spoke with such a cool composure it sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you can respond he presses the vibrator into your clothed pussy and watches as you go slackjaw, eyes rolling back in your head. His dick twitches in his pants, straining against the fabric as his free hand grips the plush of your thigh. He grits his teeth, doing all he can to not fuck you right away.

A drawn out whine escapes you as he drags the vibrator in slow movements against your clit, the fabric of your panties dulling the sensation ever so slightly. Your hips roll upwards, trying to increase the friction, but Megumi's grip on your thigh limits your movements. Watching you crumble so quickly beneath him has Megumi drowning in his own ego. His grip leaves your thigh for a moment to palm himself through his pants.

He continues with the tortuous movements for a bit longer, waiting until you're a wristhing mess beneath him. His free hand is now tracing the edge of your underwear, teasing for a moment before pulling the fabric to the side and exposing your dripping cunt.

He’s quick to push the vibrator to a higher setting, gliding it through your wet folds before resting on your now exposed clit. Your back arches once again at the new feeling, a shrill moan tumbling past parted lips. A low groan pushes its way from Megumi's chest as he watches you. You’re so lost in the sensation you don't even notice your legs closing around him until the vibrator is being yanked away and a harsh slap is laid on your puffy clit, eliciting a lewd cry to tear its way from your throat and tears stinging your eyes.

“Legs open princess.” He coos, voice sickly sweet as if he hadn't just left a throbbing sting in between your legs. You concede with a whimper, opening your legs to him again.

Before he went back to his game, he quickly undid the zipper on his pants, dragging the fabric down just enough to let his cock spill free. He let out a low hiss through clenched teeth, the discomfort of having it confined had grown to be too much for his liking, and a pearl of precum quickly dribbled down the length. You let out a needy moan as you watched, walls suddenly feeling very empty without him filling you up.

But he was not letting himself fall to temptation, not quite yet. He gripped the vibrator again, but seemed to pause for a moment, as if he was pondering to himself. You whine, pussy throbbing at the prolonged loss of contact, hips raising in the air to grind into nothing.

“Megu- Sir, please” You plead, batting your teary lashes.

Your voice seems to call him back to reality, looking at you, expression unreadable. Before you could continue your whining he grabs your soft hips and spins you around earning a squeak in response. Your head is now dangling at the edge of the bed where your hips had just been, face to face with Megumi's throbbing cock. He grips the base, pumping himself a few times before tapping the sensitive head against your bruised lips.

“Open.” He directs.

You oblige eagerly, letting your jaw fall open as he pushes himself into your mouth.

A strangled moan catches in his throat, one hand coming down to catch your face as his brows knit together. “That’s it, good- hhgnnn- oh! God- good girl”

The sound of his moans mixed with praise sends another wave of slick leaking from your core. You wish to reach out and help guide him forward with your hands but they remain bound, now hovering just above your chest.

You fight off a gag as he pushes himself further down your throat, drool starting to leak out the corners of your mouth. You breathe deeply through your nose, closing your eyes and forcing your gag reflex to relax. Megumi was overwhelmed for a moment, appreciating the feeling of your cheeks hollowing out against him. Letting out another low groan, he begins to carry a steady tempo fucking your face.

The pleasure is enough that he’s fighting to keep his eyes open, but the sight is too much to not have his gaze glued to you. His jaw hung open watching the way his cock leaves your mouth covered in a glossy sheen of saliva, only to plunge back in while you hold back gags.

“Oh fuck- fuck pretty, mmmnn- doing so good- ahh-.. taking my fu- fucking cock.” He muttered, dragging his index finger over the corner of your lips to catch the drool that threatened to spill down your face.

A harsh buzz against your clit causes your body to jolt as he presses the vibrator against you with his other hand, catching you off guard. Tears prickle your vision but you can only whine in response, sending vibrations running through his dick that caused him to shutter above you and shove his hips into your face again. The way you writhe underneath him is almost too much to take, and the expression on his face is downright sinful.

The combination of the vibrations on your clit and Megumi's sensitive tip prodding the back of your throat has you squirming, nearly sobbing against his dick. Your hips buck and the coil in your stomach begins to tighten when you hear Megumi growl above you. A few more pumps of his hips and he’s pulling out of your mouth, a string of drool momentarily clinging on before breaking away. He lets out a low hiss at the loss of touch, but he’s not about to cum just yet.

You look up at him with labored breathing as your airways are now clear. He looks so good in that god damn uniform. His pupils are blown as he drinks you in, your completely disheveled appearance, cheeks dusted pink and tear stained, completely fucked out before he’s even stuffed you full. He helps you to sit up, catching your chin with his thumb and index and bringing his lips down on yours in another, more loving, kiss.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, pretty girl.” He mumbles, barely pulling away from the kiss. You hum happily against him.

After a few more minutes of a sultry makeout session Megumi grabs one of the pillows from the top of the bed. You watch curiously as he places it down before once again grabbing the vibrator, placing it on the pillow.

“Lay on your stomach princess.” He orders, slightly more demanding now.

You part your lips as if to reply, but decide against it. Megumi's hands help guide you into position, laying flat on the mattress, bound wrists stretched out in front of you. The pillow stuffed underneath you keeps your hips angled upwards while also holding the vibrator in place, pushing against your swollen clit. Megumi positions himself behind you, admiring his handiwork before laying a quick slap to your ass, surely leaving a mark. You whimper in response, cheek squished against the comforter.

Megumi's hand wraps around the base of his dick once again, giving it a few more pumps before prodding your wet folds teasingly. Your hips push back towards his in response, earning another smack on your backside. You yelp and he smooths his hand over your skin, soothing the sting.

“So eager.” You can practically hear the smile in his voice, his hand slipping between your legs and clicking the vibrator on, setting it to a medium thrum.

A muffled moan spills out of you while you do your best to hold still. “Mmnnm- Please sir! I need it- ahh- ”

He lets out a soft groan, pulling his pants down further so they rest on his thighs before yanking the loose fabric of his shirt up behind his neck, giving him a clear view. With his hands now free he grips onto your hips to steady himself while lining up with your entrance. You can feel the anticipation nearly beading off of you, another sultry moan escaping you as he pressed his tip into your folds.

Megumi finds himself mesmerized, completely engulfed in the way your soaking cunt is basically sucking him in. As he finally pushes his way inside of you his head falls back on his shoulders, an audible groan bubbling up from deep within him as he tucks his lower lip between his teeth. You flutter around him, your own drawn out whine mixing with his at the feeling of your walls being stretched out and his fingernails digging into your supple skin.

“Holy fuck princess- nnngg-god-” He breathes as he drags his cock out painfully slow before pushing back in, bottoming out as his hips go flush against your ass. “t-takin’ this cock so well. how do you- ugnn- always feel s’good” He tries to maintain his domineering tone, but your walls coaxing him forward have him sounding downright needy.

You can’t even formulate a response. The sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of you mixed with the vibrator relentlessly pushing against your clit had you in another world. It was euphoric. Megumi watched the withdrawals of his hips before plunging back into your needy cunt, gritting his teeth. His body hunched over your own, one hand finding its way to the back of your neck pressing you deeper into the mattress as his hips picked up a relentless place. A slew of curses spewed from your mouth, fingers gripping mindlessly into the comforter unable to move from their bound position.

The sounds that filled the room were filthy, skin hitting against skin, the soft squelch every time megumi's hips rolled into yours. You felt so full, each thrust causing your clit to rub harder against the vibrator beneath you and your silky walls to clench around him. Your stomach began to tighten again as you approached your high. The pleasure was bordering on too much, strangled sobs only able to claw their way out along with Megumi's name falling from your tongue. He was too pussy drunk to even correct you to call him sir, thighs quivering as he pounded into you.

Without faltering his pace he moves his hand into your hair yanking your head back, just enough to place a sloppy kiss on your jaw. His ragged breath is hot against your ear.

“gonna be a good girl and cum for me, princess?” he growls, hips now rutting into you in smaller, rougher thrusts clearly aimed at grinding himself into your g-spot.

That was all it took, you felt your jaw go slack, crying out as your orgasm ran over you like a steamroller. Your hips wriggle forward, trying to escape the buzz of the vibrator on the verge of over stimulating your clit. But Megumi's strong grip holds you down, forcing you to ride out your orgasm and relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering on his cock. You’re nearly crying at this point, your whole body trembling. Finally he releases his grip and you lurch forward, only to be caught by his hands yet again and rolled onto your back.

Megumi kneels over you, straddling your torso as he pumped his cock furiously in his hand, his own orgasm rearing out. You can only stare up at him, mouth hanging open completely fucked out. He lets out a lengthy sob of his own, curling over you as the coil in his stomach snaps and sticky cum lands in spirts on your chest and neck. His hips buckle slightly with each thrust and you can feel his legs shaking at your sides before he’s collapsing next to you.

You both stare at the ceiling, just taking a moment to catch your breath. Once you both sink back into reality Megumi gently rolls over to face you, his fingers deftly unfastening the belt that bound your wrists. You notice a grin plastered on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” You ask breathlessly, raising an eyebrow.

His grin widens as he looks at you playfully. “I should have started playing baseball a long time ago.”

©lulusworks 2023

#megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi #jjk #jjk smut #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut

2K notes · View notes

judessangel · 2 months

Text

look after you

jude bellingham x f!reader

summary: when a night out takes an unexpected turn with a bit too much alcohol, jude finds himself tasked with looking after you, but you're not making it easy for him with your actions.

a/n: sorry for not posting:(( soonly i think ill start writing smut. requests are open!! please keep sending them in it gives me more motivation!!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"cmon.. babe, don't you think you've had your fill of that?" jude questions, reaching for my drink. i quickly dodge his attempt, shaking my head and bringing the straw to my lips. the liquid burns as it slides down my throat, but the buzz inside me only makes me want to smile.

the music thumps in my ears, club lights flickering around us as people dance messily to the beat. jude and i sit on a sofa in a tucked-away corner, his arm casually draped over my shoulder. my little black dress with spaghetti straps leaves almost nothing to the imagination.

our friends are lost in the crowd, but jude isn't in the mood to join them, so I'm stuck with him. he refuses to leave my side, becoming even more protective as I get a bit tipsy.

im way past being just a little hazy now. ive lost count of my drinks, and all i can think about is the alcohol coursing through me. i don't notice jude's growing concern.

"can we pleeease go dance?" i plead, looking up at him, planting a small kiss on his neck. he sighs, shaking his head.

"i don't think that's a good idea amor. you've had way too much to drink, and I'm just trying to look out for you," he says gently, kissing my forehead and holding me tighter. i reach for the tray of shots on the table, grabbing the nearest one without caring what's in it — i just want to taste it.

"love..." jude starts, trying to stop me from taking it, leaning forward and placing both his hands on my shoulders.

i move away from his touch, swiftly downing the liquid as it cascades down my throat beyond his reach. a shiver courses through me, provoked by its bitter taste. "quit treating me as if i'm a kid, jude. allow me a drink and just loosen up, for goodness' sake," i retort, my words sharp, accompanied by an eye roll. i face him, finding his expression slightly wounded, lips slightly parted.

"i'm just trying to take care of you hermosa, stop arguing with me." he replies calmly, attempting to pull me back into his embrace, leaning backwards into the sofa.

"i'm going to dance." i mumble, standing up as my body sways slightly, showing how wasted i really am. not giving jude any time to try stop me, i quickly walk towards the dance floor, though i hear him calling my name, the music soon drowning out his voice once i near the crowd of drunken bodies, beginning to sway my hips to the music.

a smile takes over my expression, my arms swaying freely in the air, the alcohol controlling my every move. my head throbs, my body becoming sweaty, yet i tune it out, focusing only on the music, until i feel two strong arms wrap their way around my waist, their hold slightly foreign.

i turn around, expecting to see jude, but the deep blue eyes that are staring into mine take me aback, my hands roughly trying to pull his grip off of my waist with little success, the alcohol taking away the small strength that i had.

"get the fuck off of me you psycho! are you cr..azy?!" i say, trying to sound as sober as i can, but my words are almost incoherent, the guy chuckling at my struggles.

"don't be like that. what's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hm?" he asks, his hold on me only tightening as i begin to feel like a complete idiot for not listening to jude. if i had just stayed with him and appreciated his efforts to keep me safe, then i wouldn't be in this situation.

"i have a boyfriend! fuck o-" i begin, but my voice is soon cut off by the guy being roughly pulled away from me, all too familiar small curls soon coming into my view.

"you ever touch my girlfriend again and i swear to fucking god i will fucking kill you." jude threatens, holding the guys shirt until he scoffs, letting him go and watching him walk away.

judes attention soon turns to me, pulling me closer to him, holding my shoulders whilst he frantically checks my body, looking for any signs that the guy had hurt me.

his eyes are glassy, lips parted as ragged breaths escape from them, his hold on me strong, yet he makes sure to not hurt me, attempting to study my expression.

all that is clear to see is that i am wasted as fuck, my eyes empty, not even completely processing what has just happened, my mind only longing to carry on dancing.

"are you okay baby? did he hurt you?" he asks, sighing in relief when i shake my head, quickly pulling my body into his, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and refusing to let go.

"i'm fine jude, i promise." i say, genuinely telling the truth.

"we're leaving now. and don't try fight me on it, okay?" he asserts, taking my hand in his and leading me out of the bar, my walking all over the place as the alcohol is still strong in my system.

despite what had just happened, i long to be back in there, tugging judes arm slightly, causing him to stop and turn around, waiting for me to speak.

"can we stay just a bit longer, please jude..?" i beg, pulling him towards me slightly before he reaches the doors. his eyebrows furrow, confused at my question as if i had asked something completely crazy, because to him, i had.

"really? you want to stay, even after all that? you really are absolutely wasted." he replied, lacing his fingers in mine once again. "we're going home, it's not safe for you to be here, not when you're this drunk."

"you're so boring jude." i mumble, having no choice but to leave with him, my body too weak to put up a fight, knowing that he would win and be able to carry me out of the club, which was an option too embarrassing for me to consider, even in this state.

"if wanting to keep my girlfriend safe makes me boring then fine, whatever amor." jude sighs, opening the doors as the cold immediately hits me, the night bringing on a chilling breeze as the dress i am wearing gives me practically no warmth.

i let go of judes hand, trying to warm myself up by wrapping my arms around my frame. jude picks up on this, taking off his oversized black jacket and slowly placing it on me, threading my arms through the material and holding my hand once again.

"better?" he asks.

i nod my head, not bothering to think of a quick remark, the throbbing in my head only increasing as the high i was on begins to wear off, leaving a nauseous feeling to spread in the bit of my stomach.

he guides me to the taxi, opening the door for me and gently placing me in the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and stretching it around my tired frame.

"you okay?" he asks, his hand resting on the end of my seat to hold himself up as his upper body hovers over me from putting my seatbelt on, his brown eyes looking into mine. i nod my head, and he smiles, pecking my lips slowly before bending down to climb out of the car, walking over to the back seat and hopping in.

his hand rests on my thigh, his thumb comfortingly grazing over the soft skin, his other on his phone as the uber driver drives us home through the empty streets, the early hours of the morning dawning over us.

my eyes falling shut, on the brink of falling asleep, i feel a strong grip lift me from the car, jude using his hands to wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me inside. he slips my heels off whilst still holding me, my head resting on his shoulder. he takes his own shoes off, placing my purse on the table and walking us upstairs.

"jude?" i say, my words muffled into his t-shirt, his jacket still draped over me.

"hm?" he says, moving one of his hands to rub my back.

"i don't feel too good." i admit, feeling the urge to throw up as he gets the hint, carrying me into the bathroom and switching the light on.

he quickly sets me down as i hunch over the toilet, finally releasing the alcohol from my system. he holds my hair in his hand in a makeshift ponytail, using the other hand to comfortingly rub my back.

"you're okay, i'm here." he whispers, bent down beside me as i practically throw my guts up, regret quickly taking over as i wish that i hadn't drank as much as i did.

i lift my head upwards, feeling completely sober now, jude looking at me sympathetically. he opens his arms for me as i fall into them, wrapping my arms around his torso.

"i'm sorry." i mumble into him.

"why are you sorry baby?" he asks, running his hands through my hair, brushing out the knots the best he can.

"you've had to take care of me the whole night and now i've just thrown up and it's all my fault!" i complain, my eyes welling up as i find myself becoming strangely emotional.

"don't be sorry my love, that's what i'm here for." he begins, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "now let's get you ready for bed, yeah? you must be exhausted."

i nod my head as he pulls me upwards, walking me into our bedroom. i fall into bed, completely drained, not caring that my makeup is still on, or that i'm still in my dress. jude however, does, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently lifting me upwards.

"not yet, come on let's get this off." he says, pointing to my dress.

"you do it." i mutter, too tired to even form complete sentence.

he nods, turning me around so that my back is facing him. his hand reaches for the zipper, pulling it downwards slowly, moving the straps off of my shoulders and getting up, grabbing one of his t-shirts and some fresh underwear for me. he pulls the dress off me and folds it neatly, putting it to the side.

"lift up." he says, and i obey, allowing him to put his t-shirt on me. the material hangs from my frame, reaching my knees. he passes me my panties, and i put them on lethargically, my body almost passing out in exhaustion. jude gets up, saying nothing and walking to the bathroom, coming back with some makeup wipes.

"you go to sleep baby, i'll do the rest." he softly says as i fall backwards into the sheets, feeling him gently wipe the makeup from my face, making sure that he gets everything off, taking extra care to not apply too much pressure and hurt me. he puts the used makeup wipes in the trash, my body on the verge of falling asleep. he takes his clothes off, climbing into bed in his boxers and pulling me closer to him.

"thank you for taking care of me. i love you." i whisper, my eyes still closed.

"i'll always be here to look after you. even when you don't want me to be." he chuckles, kissing my forehead.

i smile, snuggling closer to him as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"goodnight hermosa. i love you." he says, his voice the last thing i hear before i fall asleep.

again, requests are open!! send them!!

#football #jb5 #jude #jude bellingham #bellingham #la liga #real madrid #soccer #jobe bellingham #england #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine

423 notes · View notes

nycreid · 3 months

Text

Lover

spencer reid x popstar!reader

H/T means hometown

part 1

SPENCER IS STANDING IN THE VIP TENT next to many celebrities but as Y/N knows them, her best friends, Lily Rose-Depp, Gigi Hadid, and more. Spencer feels out of place, this isn’t his usual Saturday night, until he started dating Y/N. Spencer did get acquainted with her friends, they’re easy to talk to, this just isn’t his scene.

Spencer is dressed in concert merch, a pastel pink hoodie that reads ‘THE DAYLIGHTS TOUR’ and a pair of black trousers, again, something he usually doesn’t wear but for Y/N he would wear a garbage bag if it meant it would support her.

As Spencer waits for Y/N to come out and perform, he sees a fan trying to throw something into the tent. Spencer leans closer and sees it’s a bracelet- and it’s for him, he takes the colorful beaded bracelet from the girl and thanks her. The bracelet reads “KING OF HER HEART” in white beaded letters with pink and yellow beads surrounding them. Spencer smiles and blushes, knowing the bracelet is a reference to her song about him, “King Of My Heart” , Spencer slips on the bracelet proudly.

“Did you just get your first friendship bracelet?” A voice appeared next to him, it was Y/N’s mom. Her parents turned up to the concert as well, it was in her hometown, of course they weren’t going to miss it.

“Y-yeah I did.” Spencer nods nervously, he’s talked to her mom many times. Why is he so nervous?

“You’ll have a wrist full by the end of the night, it’s something you get used to.” Y/M/N chuckles and shows her wrist, she’s already accumulated at least 10 and the concert has barely started.

Spencer chuckles and hears cheers and screams before he can reply to Y/M/N and notices Y/N is rising onto the stage. The lights illuminate her glowing skin and make her eyes pop in the best way possible, the stage design doesn’t overpower her but make her stand out. Spencer is entranced and she’s barely been on stage for 30 seconds.

“WELCOME TO THE DAYLIGHT’S TOUR! It feels good to be back in my hometown!” Y/N giggles into the microphone, “To start off, I just want to say thank you for joining me today and taking time out of your day to attend.” Y/N smiles.

More cheers erupt as she speaks and you can see her grinning ear to ear, Spencer smiles as she speaks and is in love with how passionate she is about her music and her fans but he can’t help but feel hot and overstimulated by the humid weather and loud cheers.

“Now I have a question for you H/T, have you ever been in love?” Y/N alluding to her hit song, Lover (also written about Spencer). The backtrack to Lover starts playing and she brings out her guitar and the backup dancers and singers pool onto the stage.

Spencer blushes as her friends in the VIP tent tease Spencer and nudge him, ‘This is your song man!’, he even heard but he’s too out of it to notice someone said anything.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January and this is our place, we make the rules.” Y/N sings and strums on her guitar as she searches for a certain face in the crowd, before looking over in the VIP tent and seeing a familiar tall curly haired man. Y/N practically lightens up even more as she sees him, she maintains eye contact with him while singing his song. She’s basically singing it to him.

Spencer blushes as he keeps the eye contact, he feels his worries go away as she sings (basically to him). The fans singing along and the cheering tune out as he can only focus on her, he feels more calmer as he listens to her soothing voice. How did he get so lucky?

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N sings and very obviously points to him and casually goes back to strumming as if she didn’t turn Spencer into a pink blushing mess.

“You’re as pink as your hoodie, aww!” Gigi giggles and snaps a picture for Y/N to show later, Spencer chuckles and feels his heart grow for Y/N by the minute.

The rest of the concert goes by with long flirty glances by her, more eye contact, and Spencer recording half of it to put in his Y/N 💝 photo album. The concert finally ends and Spencer’s wrist has gained 15 brackets on each wrist and 20 more in the tote bag he brought for Y/N with her ‘after concert essentials’.

As the fans depart from the stadium, Spencer, her parents, and her closest friends go backstage to see her. Y/N runs backstage, not even taking out her microphone and earpiece, immediately running into Spencer’s arms.

“I missed you! Sorry, I’m kinda sweaty right now.” Y/N mutters into his chest with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s okay, honey. You were amazing up there! You took my breath away.” Spencer kisses the top of her head and rubs his hands on her back. Spencer is a germaphobe but he doesn’t pull away from her, he doesn’t mind her germs.

Her parents and her friends pull up in a golf cart later and she converses with them and pulls them into hugs as well.

“I think it’s time to call it a night!” Y/N sighs and says her goodbyes to her friends and parents. “See you guys tomorrow!” She’s performing one more day in her hometown.

“Ready to go?” Y/N takes her hand in Spencer’s, and he nods.

—

IN HER HOTEL SUITE, Spencer and Y/N are comfortably cuddling in bed after a fresh shower together and in pajamas and are on twitter looking over the videos after today. Y/N would be staying at her parents house since she’s in her hometown but her team suggested a hotel room so transport and makeup is faster and easier.

Y/N giggles, “Wait look at that tweet!” She clicks on it. The tweet reads ‘he is DOWN BAD but like i would be too…’ followed by a video of Spencer watching Y/N perform with a lovestruck smile.

Spencer chuckles a little embarrassed, “Like this is new news? Everybody knows I’m in love with you, Y/N L/N.” Spencer pecks a kiss onto your forehead.

Y/N blushes and playfully swats him away, “Oh stop it.” She bites her lip, trying to hide that painfully obvious smile.

“No matter how hard you try to hard your smile, your pink cheeks sell you out.” Spencer lightly pinches her cheek and laughs.

Spencer noticed Y/N rubbing the King Of Her Heart bracelet he got, “I promise to be delicate with your heart for as long as I live.” Y/N smiles and brushes a kiss against his cheek, “I know.” She says with certainty.

—

lmk what you guys think!! pls tell me other songs popstar!reader would make if u guys are getting tired of the taylor swift songs + references! and don’t be afraid to send asks 😉😜 AND TYSM FOR SO MUCH LOVE ON THE LAST POPSTAR!READER FIC

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic recs #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x popstar!reader #Spotify

559 notes · View notes

sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

Text

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

•°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth beekeeper #the beekeeper #derek danforth x you #jhutch #josh hutcherson x reader

494 notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 10 days

Text

Gojo Satoru X Reader (pt. 1)

pt. 2

CW: teacher-student relationship, male masturbation, lots and lots of sexual tension, third-person perspective

a/n: i just watched miller’s girl last night so this was heavily inspired by it. well…somewhat

Whispers slithered through the hallowed halls of Jujutsu High like ominous serpents - rumors about the scandalous relationship between Gojo Satoru and his sole female student. At first, she dismissed the gossip as absurd. Sure, her mentor could be incorrigibly flirtatious at times, like their first meeting when he mistook her for a new teacher and gallantly swept down to press his lips to her knuckles. Even after she corrected him, the silver-haired sorcerer seemed delighted to have "such a lovely little lady" as his pupil.

He proceeded to give her an unsanctioned personal tour of the dormitories, escorting her to the teachers' quarters, claiming her room was mixed-up just to have her staying close by. Now she has to explain to new students why she’s rooming with that notorious manchild.

The rumors intensified after she officially joined Gojo's class. Though undeniably childish outside the training grounds, he proved an exemplary mentor, deeply familiar with the nuances of her innate techniques. More importantly, he was fiercely protective, exemplified the day he saved her life.

She'd been ambushed during a mission, her ribs crushed by some malevolent spirit. Splayed helpless amid the rubble, she watched in detached horror as the skeletal beast sidled closer, drawn by her agony. Then, a blinding flash of black and white - Gojo had arrived.

The next thing she knew, she was gasping in his arms, pain screaming through her body as he jostled her with calculated roughness. "Glad you didn’t puke on me this time," he teased with a wolfish grin, referencing her violent reaction to her first forced teleportation.

This bizarre, backhanded banter marked the start of a profound intimacy between master and student. What began as a mere academic relationship steadily morphed into something akin to family - perhaps the closest she would ever know. Like now, waiting side-by-side for the train home, his dexterous fingers idly weaving the silken strands of her hair into intricate braids. A futile bribe of mochi had failed to dissuade his pleas to use his teleportation, so she resigned herself to crowded public transit, crumbs inevitably showering her shoulders as he kept himself busy.

Aboard the train, packed amid throngs of exhausted salarymen, she stiffened as unfamiliar calloused fingers trailed up her stockinged thigh. A harsh reminder of her juvenile "uniform" - another of Gojo's juvenile pranks. She clenched her fists, nostrils flaring, determined to withstand this violation with dignity.

Suddenly, a strangled yelp split the air as the unseen hand retreated. She found herself crushed against her mentor's powerful frame, his broad chest pressed to her back, arms enveloping her in an unmistakable claim. His fingers trembled with barely contained fury where they splayed across her abdomen.

After that sickening highway incident, when she awoke battered and bloody amid the wreckage, new rumors swirled about the disturbing closeness between teacher and pupil. Gojo's gentle touch roused her from the hazy brink of consciousness, his thumb swiping some blood from her ashen lips before he murmured, "You look like shit, kid."

From that point, a new routine emerged - one she anticipated with visceral dread, yet perverse longing. In addition to their intensive training regimens, where he enacted relentless "lessons" that seemed calculated to map every aching plane of her body...at night, he would appear in her dorm. Her sanctuary from prying eyes, where he could tend her wounds and brandished injuries with exacting care, stripped down to her underwear.

Even the most casual gestures between them began to carry subtext, like at the school sports festival. One ill-advised taunt from a rival combatant, and Gojo materialized behind her in an instant, hoisting her over his shoulder with barely-veiled possessiveness. His fingers dipped to swat her rear before facing down the offending student, eyes glinting with menace. Mere inches from flaying the young man with his Hollow Purple technique before the principal intervened.

Such public indecencies fueled fevered gossip about the forbidden relationship between the supremely powerful sorcerer and his nubile disciple. Rumors she could neither confirm nor deny...especially after the way he claimed her that night in the sanctum of his apartment.

The celebratory dinner after her sports festival triumph was a blur of italian cuisine and sultry looks. Gojo escorted her back to his flat for "freshening up" before returning to campus. Or so she assumed, until emerging from his steamy bathroom engulfed in a cloud of vapor, wearing nothing but an oversized dress shirt pilfered from his wardrobe. The damp fabric clung like a sensual rumor, outlining her lithe curves in diaphanous definition.

Whatever semblance of self-restraint typically graced Gojo's demeanor nearly disintegrated as he pulled his student into his lap. For a torturous minute, primal instincts threatened to overrule his better judgment - to simply slam her down onto the mattress and fuck her with reckless abandon.

But a flicker of lucidity pierced the haze of lust just in time. This was his precious protégé, the woman who had utterly bewitched him both in body and spirit. He couldn't simply take her like one of his flings. Not without her explicit consent.

Drawing a steadying breath, he reached over to gently take the towel from her hands, using it to slowly dry her hair. All the while, desperately attempting to ignore the insistent throbbing in his groin, the painfully prominent bulge straining against the fabric of his pants.

That night marked the first time he'd allowed himself to truly surrender to the sinful fantasies that so frequently plagued his thoughts when in her presence. As she retreated to her room, Gojo mentally praised his own restraint. But the image of her, draped in nothing but his oversized shirt, branded itself into his psyche.

Only after bidding her a quick goodnight did he seek the solace of his own room to fist his cock with unrestrained fervor, her tempting image fueling each increasingly frantic stroke. When his orgasm finally washed over, her name spilled sacrilegiously from his lips in a guttural rasp.

Come morning, he maintained an aura of unruffled nonchalance around his student, as though the pervious night's events were merely fever dreams. But she could see the hairline fractures in his implacable veneer, instinctively sensing their dynamic had irreversibly shifted after beholding the undisguised hunger burning in his eyes.

Something primal had awoken between them. And neither was prepared to confront the smoldering aftermath.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut

297 notes · View notes

jester-lover · 3 months

Note

Reverse of the ask where TWST bois pick the reader up: Reader is surprisingly strong and scoops *them* up.

I think the bigger the dude, the funnier, but Riddle’s reaction would be hilarious to me as well.

Somewhere in the distance, Ashton Vargas just found his new favorite student…

OG Post! Something similar for the Jack fans!

Buff Girlfriend Casually Lifting Them

Featuring! - Riddle, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CWs/ Fem! Reader, fluff, humor

Riddle

“Unhand me at once!”

Riddle is shocked, appalled, and redder than a strawberry the second he feels you hook your hands under his knees and neck and pick him up like a bride. His hands immediately flail around and land around your shoulders, increasing his embarrassment tenfold.

His demands quiet down once the shock of the situation soaks in. His girlfriend is lifting him up and carrying him around like he weighs nothing. He has always been aware that you’re physically strong, but he didn’t know you were this strong!

Riddle usually won’t like being carried, but on the rare occasion, after a long day of school and his duties, he’ll ask for a piggyback ride back to his room. He’ll use a very standoffish tone while asking, but the way that he presses his head against the back of your shoulder lets you know he likes it.

Jack

He is so flabbergasted. Jack is in shock.

While he is aware that you’re into fitness—maybe the two of you even train together—he never knew you were this swole.

Jack is blushing; if you look close enough, his hands are shaking. He’s just realized he’s found the ideal woman for him—kind, gentle, who could break him in half like a pixie stick…

Bragging isn’t in his principles, but he might have to gloat a little bit with his track teammates when you’re literally running around with him thrown over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I mean, you’re not even exerting that much energy; he’s astounded!

Jack will (very quietly) ask for you to lift him again, just because he can’t believe it and he needs confirmation that he didn’t just make up the situation in his brain.

“Wanna join me for my morning run? It’ll be good cardio.”

Malleus

He’s getting the princess treatment. Very happy to know he’s your favorite lizard.

Since Malleus is very tall and imposing, he’s not used to such blatant displays of affection.

Having a physically stronger girlfriend would be a point of great pride for Malleus, particularly if you were a human, because then your strength would have been something you'd worked hard on. Something you’ve earned.

Being carried around is no problem for him; he may laugh a little at your strange human whimsy, but he happily agrees to being carried about at any time.

By any time, I mean any time. You could pick him up in the middle of a crowded campus hallway, and he’d just wrap his arms around you, place his head on your shoulder, and let you lead the way.

“Child of Man, be sure to drop me off at my alchemy class; perhaps I’ll let you pick me up and take me to Spelldrive Practice afterwords…”

Sebek

“How dare you, human!”

Sebek is appalled at the absolute gall you’ve got to have to do something so unabashedly romantic; don’t you see he’s too repressed for something so affectionate?

His face turns so red, and he tries to shake out of your ridiculously strong vice grip. Once he leaps off of you, get ready for an hour-long lecture. Sebek is shaking in his boots, explaining to you how inappropriate your actions were and how if you wanted his attention, there were better methods.

Midway through, he kind of realizes how hot it was that you were literally able to pick him up and carry him away like it was no problem, which makes Sebek quieter than you’ve ever seen him before, contemplating his words.

He quietly asks you to pick him up again because he wants to test your human endurance! (Ignore the way his eyes lock in on your defined shoulders, okay?)

776 notes · View notes

desert-fern · 9 months

Text

The Walls Are Caving In - Jake Seresin X Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin X Fem!Reader (Known as Honey Bee/Honey)

Summary: You are sunshine incarnate, the life of the party who is so free with your affection. Jake finds himself struggling to express his desire to be like you while wrestling with his past, what happens when it all comes crashing down around him? AKA Jake is both touch-starved and in love.

Warnings: Jake has a shit dad, angst, still fluffy tho (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This one-shot is inspired a little by the song In my Blood by Shawn Mendes. That and I really wanted to explore what could be going on inside the cocky man we all know and some of us fell in love with, so please enjoy 5k words of me putting Jake under the microscope.

===

Jake Seresin was a mystery to you.

The blonde man had always been standoffish around you, almost like he couldn’t stomach the thought of being near you. Yet when the other pilots came together, it was like Jake couldn’t be close enough, knocking elbows with Bob as he tried to take a sip of his drink and chuckling when the WSO had to set his drink down to give him a bewildered look. Jake would start teasing shoving matches with Rooster out on the beach, laughing as he got absolutely rocked back into the sand.

But when you were in the group? He was as far away from you as was considered polite.

The unfortunate thing was that you thrived on physical contact. You loved hugs, both giving them and receiving them. Fanboy had figured it out early on and would now run up and pull you off your feet to spin you around. It was nothing but playful, yet why did Jake always look at you strangely?

You’d given up on finding out, choosing to focus on your career as a base medic. It had been a dream of yours to be a doctor while growing up, but as you got older, you had to face the fact that it wasn’t the most financially sound decision. So you joined the Navy and found your calling as a medic. Between treating a few base personnel for coffee burns, the occasional broken toe from jamming it against a bench in the locker room, and the pilots and crew members who would pass out when the weather got too hot, you were thriving on your ability to always try and bring a smile and a listening ear to whoever came through the door needing help.

It was why you had become known as Honey Bee by the base dwellers, as you had taken to calling them. You were sweet and were genuinely interested in getting to know people, but if someone fucked around, you always had a whole swarm of people willing to makes sure they found out.

What you weren’t expecting from the job was to catch the eye of several of the Navy pilots, not for a lack of trying to dissuade them. You knew better than to shit where you ate, knew better than to mess around with a Navy man who could very well have a girl at any and every port of call. You were here to do your job first and foremost.

But that started to change. Jake had caught your eye, not just because of the blonde hair that always seemed to glow in the late afternoon California sun, the green eyes that seemed to clock where you were in a crowd, or because he was magnetic in a room of people, but because you wanted to know more about him. He was an enigma to you aside from his medical record. You knew that he’d broken his elbow in high school playing football, that he’d sprained an ankle tripping over a step, hell you even knew his medication allergies. But anything personal, you could forget about.

So you stuck it out, keeping your distance and content to smother the other pilots in your affection.

===

It was late in the evening as you watched Rooster play yet another song that was older than he was, his squadron around him yelling along to the words. You and Bradley had been close since the mission he refused to talk about, only that he and his godfather had nearly died. You two had also engaged in a casual relationship, hooking up on the off chance neither of you had a partner, but other than the occasional romp in the sheets, you two were as close as best friends. It’s why you were here tonight.

Taking a sip from your drink, you turned to watch the crowd around you, scanning the room and enjoying your people watching. You didn’t know how long you’d been staring around the room, but it had been long enough that Bradley had stepped away from the piano to stand behind you. “Hey Honey.”

You spun around, hand pressed to your chest. “Jesus fuck Bradshaw! You better not give your favourite medic a heart attack. Who else would treat your ass after you fell off another ladder?”

“That’s just rude, Honey Bee,” he teased, winking at you over his sunglasses that had fallen down his nose. “You know no one else fixes me up like you do.”

“Damn right. So watch it,” you shot back, snatching his sunglasses off his face and putting them on your own face. “Also sunglasses at 10 pm? Who are you fooling?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes at your smirk. “Okay, okay. I came over here to give you a hug ‘cause you’ve been sitting over here by yourself. But since you decided to be rude, I’m just gonna walk away.” Bradley turned, moving through the crowd away from you and towards his team on the other side of the bar.

“Fuck you!” You yelled after him, downing your drink and chasing after him. You caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and when he turned, you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “You’re a real jerk, Bradshaw. You know that?”

He laughed, hugging you back. “And you’re a real smart ass for being as sweet as you are, Honey.” Bradley grinned down at you, pulling his aviators off your face and tucked an arm in the collar of his shirt. “Sometimes it feels like I gotta wrangle you.”

You pulled back grinning at him. “You love me.” You felt energised, like that one simple hug had been injected with jet fuel. You were a social butterfly if you had enough hugs throughout the night and thankfully the Daggers had a number of people who loved your playful teasing and joyous affection. It was how you spread your love and you would be damned if Bradley or his friends felt like you weren’t appreciative of how they kept him and each other safe.

“Regretfully,” he quipped, slapping your shoulder and moving over to where Phoenix and Coyote were chatting.

“Dick!” You called after him, laughing when he flipped you off, his back still turned.

You fell into easy conversation with Bob and Fanboy, grinning when Bob pressed his side to you for a moment after a particularly funny joke. And you continued to bounce around the little groups, laughing loudly and uproariously even though you’d only had one drink hours earlier. “How do you do it, Honey?” Payback asked after you’d come back from dancing with his WSO.

“Do what?”

“Have so much energy. I’d be exhausted if I were you.”

You grinned at him, a wide one showing your teeth. “Well Reuben, I see so many people because of work, but I’ve always been like this.”

“Now that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “That I can picture. Little baby Honey with two braids making friends with everyone on the playground.”

You laughed with him, feeling alive with the energy in the room. It was only when you glanced around at the other Daggers did you notice a storm cloud underneath the ray of sunshine you were casting over your friends.

“Why don’t you turn your charm on Bagman over there? Seems like his battery is wearing out.” You jumped nearly elbowing Phoenix in the face.

A shrug. “He’s not my biggest fan,” you said simply, missing how Reuben and Nat gave each other a look over your head. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin his night even more than it seems to be going.”

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Still, I think you should at least try.”

You turned around. “Why? You all see how he seems to always stand on the opposite side of the room from me, how he barely says two words to me.” There was a frown on your face, something so uncharacteristic that it nearly had Payback choking on his drink as he saw it cross your face.

Natasha just raised an eyebrow and you folded like cheap cardboard. “Fine, but he’s not going to like this.”

You wove through the crowd, making your way over to the jukebox where Jake stood contemplating a song choice. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He didn’t look up at you, choosing instead to stare at the song list you know he’d practically memorized.

A beat of awkward silence passed. “So…” you started again. “You have a song in mind or is it going to be a random choice?”

“Why? You have something you want to play instead?” His tone was sharp, like he was trying to brush you off and it startled you. You could feel Nat’s curious eyes on you and were half tempted to turn around and shout ‘See?!’ in her direction.

“N-no. I was just curious.” Now you were feeling unwelcome. Everything about his body language screamed ‘leave me alone’. He was tense, speaking through gritted teeth, hand white knuckling his beer bottle. “Especially since Rooster always seems to hijack the music whenever you pick a song.”

Jake didn’t say anything, going back to faking his pondering over song choices. You stayed for another moment, before nodding to yourself. “O-okay.” You gave him a hesitant smile before slipping away back towards Natasha. Seconds later, you heard Def Leppard begin to blare through the bar as Jake strolled through the crowd, using his size to gently pass a group of what looked like college girls, whose giggles seemed to carry over the music.

“See?!” You hissed at Natasha. “He would rather fake stare at a music selection he has memorized than talk to me. He clearly can’t stand me!”

Natasha just gave you a cryptic look before drawing you into a conversation about the strangest accident you had ever seen or had. It was enough to draw you focus away from the blonde pilot icing you out, but it also prevented you from catching Jake’s glances your way.

He’d managed to escape your notice for most of the night, choosing to keep to himself or chat with Coyote on the off chance you hadn’t barged into their little group. Contrary to what you thought, Jake didn’t hate you. In fact, he was almost envious of your ability to shine in a room this big. You bounced around like the light off a disco ball, your personality as vibrant as the colours that radiated off as it spun.

The biggest thing he was jealous of though, was the fact that you were free with your affection. You always had a hug and a smile for everyone and if anyone tried to dull your shine, it was like you couldn’t be touched. Jake was jealous of the easy way in which you could ask for a hug to satisfy you.

He couldn’t. Jake yearned for the freedom to be openly affectionate, craved the feeling of being held, but he had spent so long being told that men didn’t do that, that he had to suck it up and be a man. The few girls that had stuck around longer than just one night had never wanted to be close. Sure they had cuddled, but they had all drawn the line at him holding their hand, hugging them from behind. They had only seen him for the prowess and personality he exuded as Hangman, but he was tired of splitting himself down the middle. He wanted someone who wanted Jake too, not just the cocky persona he used to show off. The persona that had made his father spare half a glance his way. He wanted hugs. He just couldn’t ask for them, so he stayed away from you and your sunshine. Created distance between himself and your vibrancy, if only so you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that he desperately needed the affection you distributed in excess.

The half a day he’d spent under your care weeks ago stuck in his memory. Jake hadn’t managed to grab breakfast or lunch on a hot day, hadn’t had much sleep or water, and between the endless up and down, pulling G’s, and push-ups from losing an exercise, the heat became too much for him. He’d passed out halfway through his push-ups, falling face first to the tarmac and scaring the hell out of Hondo who was supervising.

He had been rushed immediately into the infirmary, falling into your capable hands. You had been incredibly gentle checking vital signs, your voice as soothing as a cool damp cloth pressed against feverish skin. You’d stolen his breath when you asked the questions you had memorized due to their frequency of use, and Jake felt like he’d been sucker punched. He didn’t remember much, having spent most of the experience sleeping, but he dreamt of you and every facet of you that had captured his heart and mind over the weeks you had gotten to know one another.

That experience was beside the point though. Instead of asking and being as open and carefree as you were with your love, Jake left himself to revel in the pats on the back, the handshakes, and bro hugs that were “appropriate for a man”. He let himself watch as you hugged Bradshaw, danced with Fanboy, and seemed closer to his squadron than he himself.

So he pushed you away and hoped you didn’t see through him.

===

Days later, you were bustling around the infirmary. You hadn’t seen the Daggers since the night at The Hard Deck and it was kind of taking a toll on your usual bubbly energy. You still had a smile for everyone, but it had started to become forced the longer your shift went on.

Earlier in the day, a pilot had passed out from the summer heat and hit his head hard enough that he bled. You had been filling out reports when the wall of noise hit you and you were on your feet in half a heart beat.

You hadn’t sat down since. That one accident had set off a never-ending queue of people walking through the doors and your feet hurt.

Sat at the desk at the front of the infirmary, you blew out a sigh. 10 more minutes. 10 minutes and then you could go home and relax.

“You good, Honey?” Bradley. You could recognize that smooth voice anywhere.

You nodded tiredly. “Yeah. Just really busy today.”

“I get that.”

“So.” You drew yourself up from your chair, stretching out your arms. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“I was hoping that you could check on Hangman.”

You blinked at him, thoroughly confused. “What?”

Bradley gave you a flat look. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because he's been reckless lately. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed if he keeps flying like he has.” There was nothing but seriousness in his amber eyes. Every micro expression that flickered over your friend’s face was one of deep concern.

You nodded. “Okay. It will have to be tomorrow though, Roo. I just finished my shift.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Honey, but I’m worried about him. He won’t talk to anyone and Mav is at his wits’ end. Can you swing by today?”

Internally, you groaned. Jake hated you, you were convinced of that. Yet Bradley seemed genuinely concerned for his teammate and despite your best attempts, you hadn’t been able to put him from your mind. “Yeah, okay. But if he blows up at me, Roo, I swear to God I will hurt you.”

Rooster grinned. He knew your threat was an empty one, you both did. You cared about him too much to actually follow through with it. “Thank you, Honey. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you grumbled as you walked forward to hug him, burying your face in his flight suit. “You really do.”

You felt him scoff as he hugged you back, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling back. “Have a good night, Honey.”

“Thanks Roo. Drive safe.”

And then he was gone.

Fuck. What had you just agreed to do? You buried your face in your hands and blew out a long breath. This was going to be a long night.

===

Bradley had texted you Jake’s address as you finished changing out of your scrubs. You knew he was worried, but a part of you was anxious about what would happen should Jake open the door and see you. Would he slam the door in your face? Would he invite you in and then hit you with the cold-shoulder?

Jake Seresin made you nervous. Pretty people always did, and Jake was no exception. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about the two of you, but you never let your fantasies go too far. They were delusions. Jake avoided you at any chance he could, so you had one chance to make sure that he understood that you didn’t resent him even if he so clearly did.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled into his driveway behind the black truck that was so quintessentially Jake it hurt. You walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell and trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

The blue door opened up and Jake stared at you with confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, mustering up some courage to say “Rooster sent me. Can I come in?”

“Sure?” Jake held the door open, stepping aside to let you pass by him. “You have strange timing. I just got Bradshit off my ass.”

“Heh yeah. It’s almost like an intervention or something.” Inwardly, you were cringing. Why had you said that? God, it was like any social skills you had vanished the minute you were around the blonde man. “Your house is nice. I love the colour of the hardwood.”

“Thanks.” Jake’s voice was back to short and clipped. It was clear that he was on edge now. Likely thanks to your stupid comment. Why couldn’t the floor just crack open beneath you right now and spare you the awkwardness? “So why are you here?”

You took a deep breath, letting your eyes meet his own. “Rooster is worried about you. He didn’t say why, just that I should check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, averting his gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest, the black T-shirt clinging mouthwateringly to his arms and shoulders- you shook yourself mentally, cringing again at your thoughts. “You can go now.” Jake’s rushed voice cut through your self-judgement and brought you immediately back into his entryway where he stood not quite glaring at you.

Your interest was piqued by his rush of words. “That was awfully quick,” you remarked as casually as you could. “Jake, whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you. I only want to help.”

“Like I said, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Deep down, a part of him was screaming at himself to let you in. To let you help. He would tell you everything if you only asked, if you stayed a little longer. Jake clenched his hand into a fist, restraining himself from capturing you in a hug and never letting go. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. You were just being nice. It didn’t mean anything. Right?

“But I am going to. And your team is worried too.” You tried to reason with him, as you watched him closely.

Jake shook his head. “How many times do I have to say this? I. Am. Fine. Okay?” His voice was raised and he seemed just as shocked as you by his outburst. “I’m sorry, but I am fine.” No. God no. Why had he shouted? Even he could see right through himself, couldn’t you? He really hoped you did.

You gave him a kind smile, before replying “It’s okay, Jake. I’d offer a hug, but I know how much you hate them. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” You turned back to the door, opening it up and slipping past Jake, your arm brushing his chest and his breath hitched.

Turning around, you faced him and watched his eyes land on everything but you. “Jake?” Your voice was quiet, like you were afraid to push him. “Are you really okay?”

He shook his head, still looking at the floor. “No,” he whispered. The fight had drained out of him, his resolve crashing down around him. When he did meet your eyes, you were astounded by the myriad of emotions you found swirling deep within the green irises.

“Where’s your living room?” You asked gently, hoping that you both could have this conversation in a more comfortable place. Especially since Jake looked like he would collapse at any moment.

“Down the hall,” he said hoarsely, pointing ahead of you both.

You offered your hand to him and could barely contain the shocked noise when he took it. You felt the calluses on his palms, the rough parts that scratched at your own hands, but there was also a softness in them. The parts he tried to keep out of the light. “Come, let’s go sit.”

You perched on the edge of the brown couch and patted the space next to you. When he sat, you noticed how it seemed like he had purposely left space between you both. “So,” you began cautiously. “What’s happened?”

There was silence for a moment, before Jake spoke. “Too much,” he mumbled so quietly that you barely heard him. “And I just… I don’t know how to fix it.” He was still lying to himself. He knew how to fix it, he was just scared of losing the persona he’d spent most of his life perfecting. He knew that he craved the closeness that you could give him, he just couldn’t ask for it.

“Hmmm…” your hum was soft. Everything about you was soft, Jake thought. It’s why you were so liberal with your love. “Well, can I help you?”

He nodded before he could stop himself. Jake risked it and finally glanced up at you. Where he was expecting judgement or pity, all he saw was empathy, kindness, and compassion. It nearly stole his breath at just how much you cared. You cared about him, even after everything. “Y-yeah. You can,” his voice cracked on the words, but he steeled himself and refused to look away.

You gave him a soft smile, watching his face carefully. Jake seemed to be at war with himself, torn between choosing what he always had or finally allowing himself what he needed. Swallowing, you spoke gently. “How can I help?”

Those four words were the breaking point for Jake who had been strong for too long. The bottle holding in all his yearning, his wishful thinking, all of it, exploded in his chest and he began to sob.

Your eyes flew wide and you immediately gathered him in your arms, turning him into your shoulder. A moment passed before you realized what you had done and you made to let go, but found that Jake had clung to your sweater as he cried.

Each tear set free something deep inside him and Jake knew that nothing would be the same after this. His grip on his feelings had slipped and here he was, sobbing into your shoulder like a child who’d lost their favourite toy. But despite the shame he felt, Jake couldn’t stop and a part of him didn’t want to. You were here, whispering soft words of comfort, your touch grounding him in a way that reminded him how long he’d been floating on his own.

His mind could only focus on the pain he was trying to purge from his body. With each sob, his resolve on his self-judgements snapped and they floated away on the river of tears he cried for the parts of him he had spent too long hiding for fear they would be stripped from him.

Then, with sudden clarity, Jake realized what he was doing. He was mourning everything he’d lost. Everything that had made little Jake Seresin who he was. The excitement of flying, loving his friends with everything he had, all of it gone to appease someone who had been gone from this world for years now. He only cried harder at the thought of his younger self watching who he was now and being disappointed, asking him why he’d stopped hugging people. Why he’d pushed away someone who loved hugs as much as he had.

His face was buried in your neck, the tears wetting your skin. He clung to you, so afraid that if he let go that you’d vanish. And when you vanished, you’d take with you your kindness, the love you spread around so easily, everything Jake knew he didn’t deserve. How could he? You were a sunbeam that had fallen from the heavens above, casting your warmth on everything and everyone you touched. You were magic to him.

Your heart broke for the man in your arms. You silently cursed the pressure he was under as a pilot and whatever rigidity in his upbringing had made it so he didn’t or couldn’t express his true feelings. It hurt to hear his sobs but you knew that this was years of pain, frustration, and anger pouring out of a narrow bottle he had tried so long to keep shut. “I’m here, Jake. Shhh, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry, Honey.”

He felt you stiffen and pull back just a little. “Look at me Jake.” He chanced it, looking up at your beautiful face, cataloguing the fierce look in your eyes that was offset by the gentleness of your touch. “Never, never apologize for your feelings. You hear me?” Jake nodded tearfully, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You can let go of your burden right now. I’m here for you, Jake.”

Your words only set him off again. They reminded him so much of his mother’s own and it cut him deep. She was the light in his life until somehow you’d eclipsed it. She had always given him the love he had craved and had been denied by his father, who had raised him never to express his emotions, yet he’d forgotten about anger. Mark Seresin was an angry man trapped inside the supposed standards of how a Texan man ought to be. He was needlessly hard on his boys, believing that it was his duty to ensure that every emotion had been beaten and worked out of them. He had raised his sons that crying was for babies and little girls. But he would never know how much damage had been done from his ‘tough love’. Mark Seresin would never see his sons snap under the pressure he had placed upon them and Jake was more than okay with that.

And so Jake poured that story out between tears, keeping his hands caught in the fabric of your hoodie, desperately trying to keep you close. He couldn’t have you slipping away from him, but even though he’d cried all over you, ripped open the deepest darkest parts of himself, you didn’t move except to slide backwards on the couch, settling yourself. You had cemented yourself in his life just by holding him close and Jake knew that you could never be aware of just how much that meant to him, how much he loved you for that.

You were going to stay. You held him as his sobs petered out. Held him close as he brought his breathing back to normal, and even as he tried apologizing. But you refused to hear it. “I said I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it, Jake. Okay?” Your voice was still soft, your hand rubbing circles on his back as you both lay on his couch. He had his head pillowed on your chest, lying there despite the late hour. “You know you can talk to me, right? I meant it when I said I wouldn’t judge.”

“I know.” Jake hated how small his voice sounded, but he was so tired. Tired of the judgement he inflicted upon himself, the arbitrary scale he used to compare himself to others. He just wanted to rest and he was scared. His hard shell had been weakened under his breakdown and this was so new to him. Jake felt exposed, like he’d been stripped naked before you and left to face your judgement.

The only question was: would you still love him after this?

Jake was shaken from his thoughts when you said his name in that soft voice of yours. “What are you thinking about?”

He hummed. “How much I regret crying. I have a headache,” Jake let out a little chuckle at his words. “God, Honey, what do you think of me right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “I’m thinking about how strong you are, how much courage it took you to be so brave. You let your guard down and I am so proud of you for that, Jake.”

Jake’s cheeks pinked. “I might cry again if you keep that up,” he said thickly, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

“I mean it. I am so proud of you, Jake Seresin, and I will say it as many times as I need to so it gets through your thick skull.” Your tone left no room for argument, but you were still smiling down at him, and the warmth of it washed over him like pulling a thick quilt over oneself during the deepest winter storm.

“I-I think I…” Jake trailed off, catching the end of his sentence before he could say it, before he could confess right then and there. “I have shit timing, holy fuck.”

You only raised a confused eyebrow at him. “Jake, what…?”

“I love you.”

He felt your giggle against his cheek, heard the peals of laughter go ringing through his ears. “I know, you sap. I love you too.”

“Wha- How did you know?”

“The infirmary. When you passed out a few weeks ago because you hadn’t had enough to eat, you were mumbling in your sleep. I just assumed you were calling your partner honey, but then you called me Honey Bee when you woke up and I just knew.” When Jake met your gaze, he saw your eyes full of what could only be described as the purest love. “I think I knew before you did.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Well then,” he began. “Think I should make it official then?” He’d pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of you and smiled down at you.

You looked adorably confused under his gaze, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t expected it so you let out a muffled squeak that made Jake chuckle against your lips when he pulled away. “Honey…”

A wide grin nearly split your face in two as you looked up at Jake hovering over you. It took nothing for you to cup his face in your hands and pull him down into yet another kiss, this one more intense, intoxicating one another on the feeling of your lips slotting together.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy and those green eyes, the ones that had enchanted you from the minute you met, fell shut. “Honey. My Honey Bee…” he whispered millimeters from your lips.

“Yours,” you whispered back, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek so lightly Jake thought he’d imagined it. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, because you know that I will not be an idle partner in this relationship, mister.”

He laughed and it had never sounded so carefree to his ears. You had broken through his walls, forcing your way in with a touch so gentle Jake hadn’t seen you coming until you held his heart at your mercy and by the grace of whatever God sat in the heavens, you had breathed joy and light back into his soul. Jake was utterly devoted to you and your light, wholly captivated by you. You had remade him with laughter in his heart, reshaped his broken heart in your capable, yet gentle hands.

“-ake? Jake? Where’d you go?” Worry had seeped into your tone, your brows furrowing under the concern you felt. He’d spaced out a few times now, and while you were worried, you knew that it was likely residual doubt and his own way of trying to process the events prior. “You should go to bed, Jakey. It’s late.” Your thumb traced the ridge of his jawline, bringing him back into himself.

“Stay.” The words were out before he could stop them. “Please.”

“Okay.”

One word, and Jake knew that he’d be alright, that he was safe.

You were here to stay, his Honey Bee.

===

A/N: big thanks to Star for proofreading and telling me that this wasn’t absolute hot garbage! And for the record, this isn’t Jake’s Dagger Comfort fic. That is still in the pipeline somewhere lol

Taglist: @sarahsmi13s @startrekfangirl2233 @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @dakotakazansky @thedroneranger @aviatorobsessed @csmt-m

#the walls are caving in #fern writes #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff

1K notes · View notes

starillusion13 · 9 months

Text

Winning Dessert

Pairing: boxer! San x f! reader x manager! Wooyoung

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Mature, SMUT

W.C: 6.3k +

Warnings: sexual themes,explicit SMUT, nipple play, oral (f receiving) , m x f x m, threesome, double penetration,unprotected sex(please don’t do irl),aftercare (please idk if anything more needed to add or not.)

Request from: @kitten4sannie

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Thanks for helping me out to come up with an idea with woosan fic @mymoodwriting

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @yeoobin @anyamaris (I thought you may like it) @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames

Note: Thanks for joining the event and loving my works. I love interaction so please do tell me how you all like my works.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT UNDER THIS POST 18+

*under the cut*

🏆

Boxing Clubs? Are you really interested in them? No, not really. Your opinions don’t matter to your friend who is really jumping around like a fool in your bedroom for finally getting the tickets for herself and you to watch the tomorrow’s event of the Django Boxing Club. You have heard about the boxers in your town but never got the interest to dive deeper into the information about them. Your friend has mentioned her favourite’s name a lot in your conversations but you only pretended listening her.

“When are we going there?” You asked her in a bored tone contrast to her over-excited self. She stopped jumping and sits beside you, resting her palms on your shoulder and turning you to face her with excitement overflowing her eyes.

“Finally, I am going to their special show and even with you. I would probably faint there when seeing them that close but you will catch me okay! We will hang out to nearby café before and then we will go the event’s place. It will start at 9 o’clock.”

“No way! We will be out there late at night.” You didn’t expect to be a night event, you never been to any place at late night so you are a bit conscious right now.

“It’s okay Y/N. Many audiences will be there and it would be pretty much crowded to become somebody’s target for bad intentions.”

“I don’t know how to not worry but please we have to come back as soon as possible after the show ends.”

“Deal. Anyways I’m heading out for my home because I need to get a proper sleep today’s night even though I know I can’t sleep knowing I will be meeting Sa-“

Suddenly a ring interrupts her statement. The call was from her boyfriend asking her when will she get back home. She hurriedly makes her way out of your apartment waving you a quick farewell for the end of the day and you smiled in return to see her so excited for every little thing in her life. Maybe, you should also date someone then it would make yourself a little bit more interested in life.

Preparing yourself to the bed, you are still lost in thoughts about tomorrow’s event as to what can happen there. Not that you are expecting something worse but as you never been to such places and also late at night, you are a bit confused and overthinking.

————

Next day, early in the morning, your sleep got disturbed by a call from your friend to remind you about the events for the later in the day. You spent your Saturday morning as usual with treating yourself a nice healthy breakfast and cleaning stuffs all around your apartment.

Afternoon comes with the arrival of the exciting-self of your friend. Looking at her, you realized how she always dolls her up for every little occasion and being excited for her favorite stuffs. Where on the other end, you are always so bored with your usual plain life and dress up in casuals with no make up and all. Shaking your head to let this thought out of your mind, you picked up an outfit of a baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt.

“Are you wearing that?” your friend made a disgusted expression on your choice.

“Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with this?”

“Of course. Everything.” She moved you aside and starts to rummage through your closet and chose a light pink shirt with a white sketchy skirt. The skirt has a descent height to cover your thighs properly but to you the outfit is a bit too scandalous for the event.

“I’m not wearing that to a place where there will be lot of boys and men.”

“Its not like I’m asking you to wear revealing clothes to attract boys but atleast wear something girly please and perhaps this will look good on you maybe you will get a boyfriend for yourself there.”

Trying out the outfit, it reveals not that bad to wear to such events and eventually you agreed on it with her. You leave your wavy mid-length hair open and put some lip tint to go with the casual look.

Feeling of refreshment hits your body while walking along the side of the streets with your bestfriend. Maybe you should go out often to such exciting events or you will die of boredom in your room someday.

————

You spent your evening quite nicely with your friend in the café and later hanging out in the nearby mall. It was a thirty minutes way to the club from the mall so you left at 8:00 pm. Due to traffic, you both reached the place at 8:45 and on arriving, you could see how these events actually look like. The place is not bright enough to read the posters in the alley to know the information written on them. The club is situated at the end of the alley and while making your way towards it, you can feel people spread in the alley are eyeing you both up and down which making you a bit uncomfortable but your friend reassures you repeatedly not to mind them because they always look at others in that way. Reaching near the club, you could feel a lot more girls are there which made your anxious self a bit calm. The girls were either in groups of two or many but all were immersed in some exciting topics and with posters in their hands.

“Take this. This is a cheering board. I have only two hands so I can’t hold this and I will be holding these two photo sticks.” She shows her two sticks with one having a picture of an attractive male and other one with a name written on it, ‘Choi San’.

“Is this your favorite boxer?” Taking the cheering board from her hand on which is written,

‘I am cheering for you so do your best Choi San.’

You chuckled on her hardworks on making all these for the event. To your question, she nods her head aggressively with a big smile on her face. You both look towards the entrance finding out that the people have start entering the club because it’s already the time for the start of the event. Not realizing what to do, your friend dragged you hastily inside to get a better place for the best view to the show. Fortunate enough, you both got the front row from where you can see the ring of the wrestling show from an eight feet distance and the bright lights above it is making the surrounding view of the ring clear as well.

“Y/N! I swear if you don’t fall in love with the wrestling shows today. Just have a look on San’s match.”

Nodding your head reluctantly, your gaze focused on the various displayed posters around the ring of San. In every picture, his intimidating sharp eyes with a slick jaw is making you attracted towards him. His black hair complimenting his look even more and now you are hoping to see this individual in person soon. You look to your side to find your friend busy texting her boyfriend and so you start to look around to get in the surroundings more.

The place is only brightly lit in the center where the stage ring is situated so that every audience can have the clear view of the show. To the end of the ring on your right, a table where two judges were sitting and discussing something between them. Behind them, a man was standing who caught you staring there and then he smirked at you while checking you out all over. You shifted in your place and he shook his head and turned back to enter a door. Creep!

To your back, some were either sitting or standing but everyone has an excitement in them with energetic self for the show. You were looking at each person to recognize whether you know anyone or not when suddenly an announcement brought back your attention towards the center.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to Django Club’s Night Show. This is the most anticipated show for you all and us as we know our boxer Choi San of our district will be competing against the State’s most renowned boxer Johnny. Let’s begin the show and cheer for them.” Everyone cheered on the end of the announcement and not to think otherwise but suddenly you were also excited for the show.

The cheering went wild when San entered the ring, one hand holds the middle ring rope tightly to make a swift entry from beneath it. His other hand is adjusting his white sando on his sweaty body. His muscles are well reflected for the sweats under the bright lights, looking like a fresh exotic meal served in a 5-star restaurant. Oh gosh! What the hell are you imagining now.

The stage is made of wood plank so his sudden steps made a thud sound and your friend is grinning for the excitement to see him so near. There are four steal beams in the corners of the ring stage covered with foam padding and a canvas mat is covering the wooden plank with a fabric skirt on the elevated sides to cover and prevent the spectators from seeing underneath. He made his way towards the bean on your left to lean his back on it when his opponent entered the ring from the other side in a similar way and the cheering from his end was also quite loud. The man whom you saw before behind the judges appeared again but he is having some deep conversation with San. He is whispering into San’s ears and you were squinting your eyes to know what is going on.

Oh girl! The moment that mysterious man turned around and all he found out is you being interested in his private life. He smiled at you and you got startled on this sudden interaction. He tapped on San’s shoulder and again whispered something but now they both looked at your direction and both of them having dirty smirks on their face, while San is smirking with a dark expression and the other one with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your wide eyes quickly look over your friend, who turned towards you the same moment.

“Have you seen them looking in our way?”

“Yeah, I have but who is that man standing behind him?”

“That’s his manager, Jung Wooyoung like I have heard they are best friends more like brothers but whatever decision one has to make, they always consult with each other before hand. The manager is quite popular among girls because of his flirty nature but as far as I have heard that they both are single so you can have a chance.”

“Shut up! What the hell are you even talking about? Me and them? Never is this happening in this lifetime.” You hit her arm and both focused on the match which has started with San punching Johnny directly to the jaw and making the man stumbled to the floor. Everyone cheered on the act and your friend literally stood up and started jumping. She made you hold up the board a bit higher and then she is waving her sticks to cheer. The match was going quite well for San’s end because he was on the winning edge and now it’s the time for the last round. San is leaning to the beam same as before and Wooyoung came up to him with a bottle to give him some drink. They were talking between themselves when suddenly they abruptly turned their heads towards you. You thought at first that they were looking at someone else but you could see his lips were moving as if he is reading out something.

“Y/N he is reading the cheering board you are holding and see everyone is staring at us.”

Okay! So, all this time, you thought they were having those little interactions with you but it was only them looking at the audience cheering boards and posters. Maybe you are really overthinking. But why are you feeling a bit disappointed on knowing this!

The last round started with a loud whistle followed by the cheering sounds from the dimly lit place from every corner of the club. At this point, the atmosphere is little bit a mixture of smoke and alcohols and even you can hear people betting money on the contestants in a small corner of the club. Suddenly, San made an eye contact with you and you were doing your best to not think it that way and can see his opponent approaching him when he suddenly got a hit on his face and falls to the ground. He closed his eyes on the impact and resting his body on the knees and on two palms to take deep breathes. Panic starts rising your mind as if you are feeling guilty of the cause. You were looking all around to see whether any eyes are accusing you or not but all you could find is eyes focused on the stage and a wave of disappointment washed over the audience.

“What the hell! Where was he looking at?” You look over your shocked face.

“Maybe something distracted him.”

“But what?”

Me? Oh no! it can’t be even possible. This is your first time coming to this sort of shows and probably they have seen lot more beautiful girls in their life. Your eyes travelled back to the stage where san is now wiping the drop of blood from the corner of his mouth and also you can see a cut on his forehead which might be causing pain to him. You failed to notice all this time after the hit, Wooyoung’s gaze was all focused on you and following your every action. San glance at your direction and punched his opponent in such a way that the man couldn’t hit back and didn’t have anymore energy left. San’s white sando is fully drenched with sweat and his squinted sharp eyes are focused on the man before him when he pressed his elbows one on the neck and the other on the lower back to restrain him from getting up and with the time up, San is declared to be the champion of the show.

The digital board above the ring displays

‘ Choi San The Winner 🏆’

You smiled on the result and as expected your friend is shouting his name on top of her lungs. You calmed her down and looked to your phone to see it’s almost 11 at night and urged your friend to head home. San is staring at you while receiving the prize and you hesitated to look that way. You friend is still not willing to go back home but people emptying the place indicates you should head back soon before any worst thing happens.

————

When you both were about to walk out of the exist, a voice made you stop.

“Hey you girls!” a high-pitched voice calling out in your direction so on turning your head, you found out the manager is on the stairs beside the front row and looking in your way. Your friend smiled towards the man and he winked at her. He comes near to your presence.

“Hello girls! Myself Wooyoung, you can call me Woo in short. I have something to ask and that’s why I made out some time to speak with you.” All this time he is speaking, his gaze was focused on you.

Your friend happily introduced herself and you as well in which he extends his hand for a shake and before you can give in your hand, your friend shakes his hand aggressively. You and him chuckled on her excitement but he suddenly spoke up.

“Well! Can you stay a bit longer? I have something to ask.” You and your friend looked at each other in confusion as to what this man has to talk about.

“Us?”

“No. Only you.” He is directly staring in your eyes.

“We can’t stay here further because its too late for us to stay outside and even in this place.”

“Hey Wooyoung!” A familiar voice calls out from behind you all and you all turned towards it to find out your friend’s boyfriend Yeosang is standing at the doorway. Your friend run towards him and hugged him tightly and then they both quickly exchanged greeting kisses. They walked to where you and Wooyoung is standing.

“Yeosang? Do you know them and is she your girlfriend?”

“Ah yes! I never introduced her to you because I knew how crazy fan she is of San. She would probably leave me for him.” They both laughed and your friend hit him and yeosang turns towards you to give you a smile. “And she is her bestfriend. Her name is Y/N.”

“Oh cool! I was going to ask her to come help me with something and now when we all know each other then it would be much easy.”

“Help?” You watched how Yeosang and Wooyoung exchanged glances as if they were silently communicating between them. Wooyoung’s expression become dark and Yeosang laughed lightly, “Well we are leaving as am taking her to my house for tonight and I suppose you can help him. Trust me you are safe with him because he is my bestfriend and also knows how to fight well.”

“Y/N I trust yeosang so if he is assuring you on this matter then please trust him for me.”

Your thoughts are debating on whether to trust them or not but deep down you want to escape the boredom of your life and experience something thrilling so you accepted the offer. Your friend and her boyfriend took a leave and you know well what is their plan for the night so you just chuckled and turn towards Wooyoung with raised eyebrows to know why you are here exactly.

His gaze is on your legs and you just brushed your skirt to show your uneasiness for his act. He quickly looked up and grinned, “You are really pretty but you should not have worn this dress which is apparently looking too good on you and getting the attention it needs.”

“Thanks but I don’t usually go out and that’s why I thought to wear this maybe don’t know when again I would get the chance to wear it again.”

“Never.” Wooyoung whispered but when he saw your confused look, he quickly spills out the reasons to keep you here.

“Well Y/N, you did notice how San got the punch there and do you know why did that happen?”

You shook your head when suddenly he came forward and slide his hand around your neck to pull you closer, “Umm Wooyoung….”

“Yes?”

“Why did it happen?”

“Because of you. Your pretty face was distracting my boy and it leads to him getting a punch.”

“Me? But I-“

“You are not sorry for that?” you shyly look down but his other hand grips your chin to face him.

“Are you not sorry for that?” You nodded and he smiled when his gaze moves down from your eyes to your pink lips.

“You need to repay for that you know so come with me to our van and clean up his wound. I hope you won’t deny this.”

“I am sorry but I need to go home.”

“I will take you back home only when you help my boy to clean his wound and pain.”

Your eyes taking in his look, he has a sharp facial feature with veiny neck which is revealed due to his black and white Versace-Greca printed shirt which has three buttons open from the top revealing his chest teasingly with a black baggy pant. You quietly agreed with him and he took you to the backside of the club to a darker alley where on one side a van was parked. Every step nearing the van is making your heart beat faster and also being so close with wooyoung is not helping the situation.

————

Coming to the side of the van, he moved away from you and entered the front passenger seat. You are following his movements to contemplate the situation accordingly. You can only see him turning back inside and removing a curtain separating the back portion of the van which is almost like a travelling mini room with a quite enough space for two persons to sleep and also rest of the space to hang clothes and keeping all necessary place. These were not visible properly so out of curiosity you were leaning a bit forward to see what was inside and suddenly you meet San’s eyes, he smirks.

Wooyoung came out and holds your hand to take you to the back of the van. He opened the door and signalled by his head to you to enter it. The yellow hue light coming from inside the van is the only bright light in that alley right now and then when you looked inside, you can see everything clearly what you were imagining from outside and out of all things, the most eye catchy to you now is that San is sitting leaning his back to the driver’s seat staring at you.

“Hi sweetheart.” The way he said the nickname to you is so seductive and the deep voice is making the nickname a sweet venom from his mouth.

“Ummm Hi….” You entered the van and quickly sit on the seat which is taking the half side of the van to whose other San is sitting. The seat is in a somewhat shape of a sofa which can fit almost two people to sleep. Next in the way, Wooyoung entered the van and shut the door.

“Help me.” He is not asking you, this way he is totally commanding you so you quickly asked them for the necessary medicines and cotton and water and lastly the bandages. His black loose leathery pants are matching with the way his sweaty muscles and neck are shining under the yellow light seems like a smooth buttery material is wrapped around his skin.

Wooyoung provide you with all the things you asked for and you scooted near san to start clean his wounds but his hands pull you close and made you sit on his lap while his one leg is folded to make you sit on it and the other one is spread in front and near the feet, Wooyoung is sitting eyes bored in his phone.

“You need to come closer to take a proper look at the wound.” You want to scream for this close proximity but keeping your mouth and mind shut, you just nodded on his words.

You are so immersed in cleaning his wound, you didn’t notice a small smile on his lips and the way his hands moving upward to caress your back. The sudden touch made you shift in your place and when you look at his eyes, they are still closed. You brushed off the feeling and continue doing your work when his one hand grabs your neck tightly but not much to make you uncomfortable and the other hand holds your hand which was resting on his shoulder. You stopped what you were doing.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“I a-am do-doing it.” You know he is up with something but a tingling sensation inside you is making you excited and let him to do whatever he wants.

“What happened? Is there something making you uncomfortable?”

“……no.”

“Then continue.” You resume your actions but this time his hand holding your other wrist leaves it and put it on your knees and sliding them upward in the way folding your skirt slowly revealing your thighs and the grip on your neck tightens. This cause you to scratch the wound a bit.

“Ah!” your and wooyoung’s worried eyes looked his way. Wooyoung asked him when taking his and yours position precisely, “What hurt you again?”

“Nothing Woo, just someone is being a bad girl here.”

“I’m sorry but……” But? What will you say? That your damn hand is distracting me and now you have to repay me for distracting me from my one-night healer job? You remained quiet.

“But?” Woo asked you from behind so you turned your head to see him smirking.

“I think she is not willing to help me with this so maybe she can help me with something else.”

“Huh?” You didn’t get what San is referring to when he suddenly make you sit facing Woo and leaning your back to his chest. You tried to sit up but he grabs your throat lightly and pressed your torso down.

“Woo why don’t we celebrate the night in our own way?”

“I’m liking the celebration already.”

“Celebration?”

San whispered in your ears, “You are going to help me in this celebration or you are not getting home tonight. I know your body is also aching with the excitement for this.”

Wooyoung scoots near to your figure and he unbuttons your shirt revealing you in a white bra underneath it. His hungry eyes scans all over the exposed part and in action your hands moved to hide them but got held back by San.

“No need to hide this prettiness from us.” Your eyes following how wooyoung shifted your skirt a bit upward to reveal the dark wet patch on your panty.

“San she is already so wet for us.”

“Mhm….She is equally excited for us to devour her as she is our main dessert for the celebration for my win.” His hands slide down your shirt from the shoulders to prepper your neck and shoulder with wet kisses and biting on some places. You whimpered when he bit you near the ear and then he got to know that is your sweet spot so he repeatedly bit you in that region. Meanwhile, Wooyoung slide down your panties slowly and removing your shoes in the way. He placed himself between your legs and him sitting on his knees holding your knees apart to view your folds.

“San I want to taste her first. I want to taste whether the dessert is as delicious I have expected or more than that.” San chuckled on Woo’s dedication and paused on his way of devouring you. He grabs your chin and made you look at him, “Woo please eat her out and I want to see how long she can keep her little mouth shut from us.” Then San kissed you, a dominating kiss and when he said you are their dessert, he really meant it because the way he is sucking your lips and then he bit you to open your mouth and obediently your mouth opened to which his tongue exploring the inner mouth all over. Wooyoung’s tight grip on your inner thigh and his hot breath fanning over your folds made you alert of his presence between your legs and your exposed parts.

“Mhmmmm” this is what you could manage to say between the kiss when your aching heat comes in contact with wooyoung’s hot breathe.

Suddenly, Woo takes a long strip from the lower regio to the upper fold and this made your body arche but held back in place by San. San detach his lips from you to look at Woo and you also followed his gaze to see him looking upward with lust in eyes and your leaking arousal on his lips.

“She really tastes like the most delicious dessert than I ever had.”

“She tasted exactly the same up here as well.” San replied to agree with Woo.

San pushed your head on his shoulder when his one hand grabs your throat and the other one on your thigh. His mouth attached with the side of your throat to suck on them. Woo is sucking your folds as if that is his favorite dessert he got after years and this is the last time he has his hands onto. The overwhelming sensation is causing to building up a knot in your stomach and you close your eyes tightly to keep yourself enough with the feel of taking you to the edge.

“San….Woo….”You breathily moaned and then San spoke up. You gripped Woo’s hair tightly making him grunt in pain and pushing his face more inward while the other hand is gripping SAN’s thigh, almost your nails digging in.

“You are not going to cum unless we are satisfied enough to let it loose.”

You shook your head as it was already too much for you to control and now his commanding voice is making it impossible to hold it in. To your disapproval san’s hand travelled down to your clit and starts rubbing circle adding to the already stimulated region.

“SAN!......please no….please….I want to….”

“Should we stop?” Your ears are taking in the wet sounds of woo sucking your folds and San’s wet kisses on your throat but his words warned you.

“NO.”

“Then take what we are giving or else we are leaving you here.” You are totally whimpering under the touches and sucking of two males. Woo’s grip on your thigh is making a read handprint and while san’s other hand is messaging your covered tits and one is rubbing circles. Woo’s tongue entered your wet folds and San inserted one finger into the hole making a sloppy sound. Thrusting of tongue and finger is too much for you and keeping you on edge for so long is making you overstimulated with the sensation.

“Cum.” San’s whisper sends an electric wave to your body and you let it loose.

“Woo!…..I- I-…. San.” You are heavily breathing and you didn’t notice that San has removed your cloth covering your tits and woo removed the skirt from your waist. Woo tiredly comes up to take one of your breasts into his mouth and messaging the other one.

San again welcomed you to a more rough and needy kiss this time. During the kiss, San removed his sando and woo got up to free himself from every clothing from his body. You look towards Woo and then you see how well built his body is. Probably he also goes to practices with San. Woo smirked when he caught you staring at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you need one?” Why is this man suddenly interested in my private life? I mean I know I am having nothing to hide here at this point but still.

“ I don’t know.”

“ But we know.” San suddenly interjects between you and Wooyoung.

“What?��

“You don’t need boyfriend anymore when you got us.”

“Us?”

“Oh Y/N, our sweet dessert. The moment we saw you in that cute pink outfit, we were determined to make you our only dessert.” Woo made his way near both of you.

“Moreover you are my fan.” San spoke from behind when Woo took you from him to hold in his embrace and facing you both towards San. Your eyes following him how he throws away his pants and quickly get off his boxers revealing his hard length to you.

“I’m not your fan. I just came here to accompany my friend and that’s how you saw me holding that sign board.”

“That’s pity that you are not a fan of my boy but you are still my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.” San quickly made his way in front of you holding you tightly to enter your entrance. His length teasing you and Woo’s hard length poking in your lower back from behind making you anxious to feel them inside you.

“Look at me.” Your eyes quickly look up to meet San’s eyes.

“Have you done this before?”

“no.”

“We will keep that in mind but we won’t go easy on you .”

“We?”

“We both will enter you the same time and maybe then we will take turns if you can keep up.”

“ I don’t think-“ San entered you and his big length makes your eyes teary and san kissed away your tears and cooed you.

“Its okay sweetheart. I know you can take us. Trust us and everything will be fine."

You nodded your head on his words and he entered your entrance with ease again and his length widens your holes which cause your eyes to water even more. Your hands move upward to touch his abs and to feel him more close than already he is.

“SAN!”

His thrusts are sloppy and he is caressing your back and cooing in your ears to make you calm. He kissed away your teary eyes to make you feel the little comfort in that state. Woo entered you from behind and the pain for taking another length makes you to cry out.

“Woo..”

“It’s okay sweetheart. Take it. You can do it well.”

Woo added, “ I know you can do take me too.”

You made your concentration focused on the two lengths inside of you to make you at ease. You didn’t have sex with anyone before but you have taken off this sexual frustration off from you on your own. Relationship is a big deal for you as you overthink about every little thing in your life but tonight you let all of your thoughts to be aside and just go with the flow.

Their thrusts are sloppy and in sync with each other. They are praising you with their nicknames of their own, San is calling you his sweetheart and woo as his girl but the common name they have given you is ‘Dessert’. Why not because tonight you are their desert for the celebration for his win.

“San….Woo…”

You can feel a familiar knot is building up inside of you and their thrusts are increasing in pace. SAN’s thrusts are more aggressive and faster in pace while Woo’s thrusts are rhythmical and a bit gentle.

“You are so tight…agh…” woo growled and sucked on your neck.

“You feel so good wrapped around me. You are doing so well for us.” San praised you and pulled your hairs backward to rest your head on woo’s shoulder and then he leans forward to kiss your chest and gliding his mouth to one of your breast and sucking them hard and messaging the other in process. Woo’s one hand gripping your hip similarly like San to maintain his pace and the other one playing with the nipple of the one San is messaging. They repeated the same action with the other one in the same way.

You are a whimpering mess now and under all these touches with two males thrusting inside of you making you talk rubbish. Your are choking on your words because of the pain and also the pleasure you are feeling making your vision go white. Their pace increase and you are about to let it burst and you can feel by their words that they are also at their edge.

“SAN I’m about to cum. Woo please let me cum. Please San”

“Yes sweetheart. I know , just wait a bit more.”

“My girl. I will cum soon.” Woo thrusted deeply and after three thrusts he came. He rested his head on your shoulders and breathing heavily. SAN’s thrusts increase again and the sloppy sound in your entrance making you to let it go by any instant. Woo hold one of the breast and the other hand rubbing circle on your clit when he suddenly puts his lips on you.

“Woo….please…this is too much.”

“Cum.”

“San!”

You both cum together but he didn’t take it out of you rather sloppily thrusting inside you. The exhausted self of yours is very sensitive to this overstimulation but they didn’t stop their action until you all ride out your high.

“ my girl is the best and did so well.” Woo leaned to his back and let you rest against his body. San pulled himself out of you and pulls a cloth from nearby hanger and wiped your face. He threw that cloth away and take you on his lap and embraced your body as if protecting you from the whole universe.

“Sweetheart you did so well for me and for us. Thank you.”

“Hmmm…” San is rocking you on his lap. Woo sit beside him and caress his hand all over your body to make you feel at ease.

“My girl is so sleepy.” Woo caress your head lightly.

“SAN I need to go home.”

Woo asked you, “ Do you think you can walk?”

“It’s okay sweetheart. You sleep and we will drive you home later.”

“You don’t know my address.” Your eyes are hooded and can’t think of anything as your brain is still foggy brain.

“It’s okay I don’t need it when we can take you to our house as it’s also yours from today.”

Woo added, “ if we need your address then we can ask it from Yeosang.”

You nodded and clinged to San and your other hand hold woo closer to your body. San kissed you on your forehead and woo kissed you on the shoulder and pulls a cover over to cover three of you.

“Sleep my girl. We have so much to talk about tomorrow.”

“Sweetheart don’t worry about anything as you are now with us. We have to take care of you, our dessert who has melted with all the exhaustion and we are not letting you go now. Sleep.”

Maybe this is something you really needed in life. A life with these two about whom you didn’t know anything few hours ago but now they are the ones comforting you in their embrace and protecting you from the whole universe. Your life possibly can be better with them and maybe something more interesting the future holds for three of you.

You fell into slumber and them holding you close tightly in their embrace away from the whole world.

In the silence of the night, there is a sweet dessert kept warm. The happiness can only be ended on a good note with a dessert.

———————————-

This is my first time writing SMUT so please do tell me whether I should write further any smut fics or not.🥹

———————————-

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #poly ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez poly #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez san #ateez wooyoung

1K notes · View notes