#accidentally drink to the point of throwing up without ever feeling the least bit drunk lol

[thedickcavettshow]

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[archived-kin]

late with lucifer

note from kin: i just realised that the title sounds like a talk show ffs

anyway get ready to get SAPPY (and also get ready for a low-key out of character lucifer)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn! reader, lucifer, satan, beelzebub, belphie

pairing(s): lucifer/reader

warning(s): brief existential dread right at the end but i think it’s relatively light

genre: fluff all the way (with maybe a teensy bit of angst???? i accidentally got kinda deep towards the end)

Deciding to commit yourself to a bona fide workaholic music nerd who would sooner chop his own hand off than skip a single working day for potentially the rest of eternity has been... a choice and a half, to say the least. Yes, he’s a sweetheart most of the time, and you love him more than possibly any being in the known universe (though jury’s still out on cats and the dragon you met a couple of months ago who brings you giant mouthfuls of leaves every weekend), but you’d be lying if he didn’t have qualities that make you want to drop kick some sense into him sometimes. And one of those qualities happens to be his absolute refusal to just take a damn break.

“Just one more hour,” He keeps telling you whenever you ask him if he’s finally finished with his mountain load of paperwork. “One more hour, and then we can spend some time together.”

It has been five hours since Lucifer went to his study to ‘get a bit of work done’. Five hours of attempting to finish the mountain of books Satan has recommended you in the corner of the library, probably irritating the poor guy to no end with your constant restless shifting. You're surprised that he hasn’t up and left to go read in his room in peace - then again, it’d be hypocritical of him to tell you off for moving about. You’d think a bookworm like him would be so absorbed by his beloved books that he wouldn’t be able to move at all, but he fidgets about so much when he’s reading that you’re surprised he hasn’t somehow worn a hole through his favourite armchair yet. At any rate, you’re pretty sure you can see him getting ready to flip himself upside down for the seventh time this evening in the corner of your eye.

You try once again to focus on the lucrative business deal happening in Chapter 52 for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, but your brain just doesn’t seem to be listening to you right now; no matter how hard you try to register what’s going on, the words just don’t want to be processed. Finally, checking the clock on the wall for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, you decide that you might as well go bother your busy bee upstairs. It’s been at least a fortnight since you’ve been able to spend a full evening or night with him, and, if you’re honest, it’s beginning to get a little on your nerves.

Satan barely looks up from his book as you hop to your feet and begin making your way out, though he does lift a hand to wave a brief goodbye. Contrary to your prediction, he has not flipped himself upside down, but is now sitting the wrong way around on his armchair instead, facing the seat’s back, with his book carefully balanced on its head. Unconventional, but you’ll give him credit for the creativity.

The House of Lamentation is oddly quiet for a Friday night, but you’d guess that’s because Asmo and Mammon, the two loudest members of the house, have taken it upon themselves to celebrate the arrival of the weekend by going out for the night and probably blowing their savings in the process. Well, Asmo will be blowing his savings - Mammon will most likely find a way to put his spendings on one of his other brother’s tabs, or worse, yours. Then again, you don’t buy things often, so you suppose you can spare a bit of cash. (Knowing Mammon, though, he’ll probably buy enough to put you in debt for the rest of your life.)

On your way through the corridor, you’re struck by a sudden idea. Lucifer’s been shut in his study ever since he got home from the R.A.D., which means he most likely won't have eaten anything. At any rate, you know for a fact he wasn’t there for dinner with everyone else, which means you now have a much better excuse for going to see him other than just wanting to. Lucifer may be a stubborn demon, but he's never been able to resist a mug of tea and some biscuits on long nights when it's you offering them.

Beel is rustling about in the snack cupboard when you slip into the kitchen - no surprises there, but it is a little odd that he’s going for the lighter foods rather than something more filling. You'd comment on why he's down here so late into the night - he should really be in bed - but then again, it's Beel. He'd listen to his stomach over his brain any day of the week.

“Oh, hey,” He greets as he retreats from the cupboard with an armful of what look like several cookie boxes stacked on top of each other. “Did you get hungry as well?”

You shake your head and pull two mugs out of the crockery cabinet. “Nope. Just thought I’d bring Lucifer some tea and biscuits, you know?”

“He’s been in his office for ages,” Beel agrees with an earnest nod. He glances down at the heap of cookies in his arms, then pauses. “Ah… here.”

You look up as you fill the kettle with water to see him holding one of the boxes in his arms out to you.  “...what’s this for?”

“There aren’t any biscuits left in the cupboard,” He says by way of explanation, shaking the box he’s offering to indicate that you should take it. “So you can have these.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that, Beel!” You gently push the box back towards him and give his arm a fond pat. “I’ll just bring him something else. Go ahead and eat the cookies, okay?”

On any other occasion, Beel would most likely have accepted your offer without hesitation (the day that Beel rejects food will probably never come, but you have a sneaking suspicion that a black hole would rip this reality apart if it does), but it must have been a really good day for him in terms of being fed, because he actually continues to try to give you the box. You’re tempted to coo at the big softie’s uncharacteristic generosity, but you’re not particularly sure how that would go over with him. If being in a relationship with Mr Pridey McPrideface upstairs has taught you anything, it’s that you can never take a reaction for granted.

“No, you have it,” Beel insists, shifting so that he doesn’t drop the rest of his biscuits and stubbornly attempting to shove the box into your hands. “I’ve got plenty right here.”

Your surprise must show on your face, because a moment later he smiles a little sheepishly and adds, “I promise I’m not sick or anything. I’ve still got lots right here. One box won’t make that much of a difference.”

You think it over for a moment as the kettle begins to bubble aggressively behind you. You’re a staunch believer in the fact that one should never deprive Beel of his food, partially because he’s an absolute sweetheart who deserves the food he eats, and partially because something bad could and probably would happen if said food is taken from him. Then again, you’re not taking the food from him, strictly speaking - he’s the one offering it to you. That exempts you, right? At the very least, you have a counter-argument if Belphie tries to persecute you for taking his beloved twin brother’s biscuits. (He probably wouldn’t - the kid adores you - but it’s good to be prepared for possible trials.)

“Ah, fine...” You eventually relent and allow Beel to press the box into your hands. Your compliance is well worth it - the beam on his face and the little pat he gives the box in your hands in satisfaction could probably cure multiple strains of cancer. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

He flushes slightly. “I-it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” You tell him firmly over your shoulder, beginning to busy yourself with the teabags and sugar as the kettle hisses to a halt. “Personally, I think I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life.”

You smile to yourself as Beel laughs a little bashfully behind you. “Thanks…”

“No problem, bub,” You reply, pausing in your work to turn around and shoot him a wink. “Hey, chuck me a spoon, would you?”

He nods and does just that - literally. He throws the spoon across the kitchen with such precision that it lands perfectly in your outstretched hand.

You thank him and begin to pour the hot water into Lucifer’s mug. He says that he likes his tea as is, without any bells or whistles or fancy additions, but you’ve been doing this thing for long enough that you know that he actually prefers his tea with a teaspoon of honey and just a splash of lemon. He just refuses to actually say it out loud.

(To be honest, you’re not sure why he does that - does he think tea with honey and lemon is a wimpy drink or something just because you told him it’s often drunk as a remedy for a sore throat in the human world? Knowing the way his mind works, it’s probably something along those lines, but still, it’s a weird conclusion to make.)

You finish preparing Lucifer’s tea quickly - you’ve done this so many times that the movements have become second nature to you at this point - and start making your own. The drinks are finished a minute or so later, and with that you begin setting up your little snack tray.

After a moment’s debate, you decide that today is worth going the extra mile, and start to carefully arrange the biscuits on a pretty plate.  It’s a bit of a hassle to get them into the right formation, but it’ll be well worth it once you get them to their intended receiver - Lucifer always gets the fondest little smile on his face when you bring him his biscuits in patterns, and that man doesn’t smile nearly enough for your taste. Personally, you’d quite like it if he smiled like that all the time, but then again, their rarity is what makes them so precious to you.

Ah - you’re starting to get sappy again. That’s a surefire sign that you haven’t spent enough time with your beloved demon lately. Well, it’s a good thing you’re going to see him now, isn’t it?

The door to Lucifer’s study is still as tightly shut as it was five hours ago when you approach it, but you doubt he’s actually locked it. He’s stopped doing that ever since your visits while he works became a regular thing - he hasn’t said it out loud yet, but you know that it’s his way of showing you that you’re always welcome to come in.

Unlocked as it is, though, you can’t exactly turn the doorknob to let yourself in. You’re a human of many talents, but being able to balance a heavy tray in one hand is not one of them. Lucifer’s tea wouldn’t make into his study - it’d just end up all over the floor.

“Lucifer!” You call softly through the door, mindful that he might be having another one of his work-induced headaches, “I’ve brought you some tea! Open up!”

For a while, the only reply is silence. You know there shouldn’t be any reason for him to be, but you can’t help but worry briefly if Lucifer’s somehow angry at you. Then again, Lucifer’s always liked to play the fashionably late card against you - whether to tease you or to disguise something, you’ll never know.

It turns out that your little worry was unfounded - a few moments later, the door swings open to reveal your favourite demon in all his exhausted-looking glory. Lucifer, who looks like the physical manifestation of work burnout, offers you a tired smile, and stands back to let you enter.

(Here’s a little secret - Lucifer would never tell you this, but he’d perked up like a kid when candy is offered the moment he heard your voice. Still, gotta put up the cool front, right? Even if that means waiting restlessly right next to the door for a minute so that you don’t think he’s over-eager…)

“Thank you.” He murmurs as you bring the tray over to his desk and set it down on one of the few patches of wood that aren’t covered by papers.

You dramatically pretend to swipe sweat from your forehead as if you’ve just finished a ten-mile run and shoot a smile up at him. “All in a day’s work, love.”

He smiles softly and leans in to gently press a kiss to the crown of your head. His pale cheeks have darkened slightly - Lucifer’s always been a softie when it comes to the host of sappy nicknames you’ve given him. One gentle ‘sweetheart’ and he’s melting like an ice cube on a hot day. It’s the sort of thing that people like Mammon and Levi would probably call gross or something, but you honestly couldn’t really care less about that. It’s not harming anyone else and it makes both of you happy, so why shouldn’t you give your lover as many endearing pet names as you can come up with?

“What even is all this?” You ask, peering at the papers scattered across the desk as Lucifer moves over to have a look at the plate of biscuits. You look up just in time to spot the way his eyes light up slightly when he sees the flower you've arranged them into.

“This and that,” He replies vaguely, hovering a single gloved hand uncertainly over the plate, as if trying to decide which biscuit he can take without spoiling the pattern.

“That’s hardly an answer at all,” You complain, plucking three broken quills from among the documents and waving them at him. “Why do you keep using these? A pen would be way more efficient.”

“Official documents should be written in the traditional way,” Lucifer tells you. He takes his time chewing the biscuit he’s finally chosen before continuing. “And Diavolo prefers quill and ink calligraphy to look at.”

“Honestly…” You round the edge of the desk and reach up to brush some powdered sugar from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to do absolutely everything according to him.”

Lucifer blinks down at you, lips parting slightly in half awe and half surprise as you smile at him. “Ah…”

His smile widens slightly, and he gazes at you with so much fondness in his eyes that you almost feel a little weak at the knees at the very sight. Lucifer really is a dangerous demon - in more ways than one.

“Well, c-come on, then,” You prompt him abruptly, not wanting him to realise how much his gaze has affected you, because you just know it’s going to give him an ego boost. He pauses in surprise as you start tugging him over to the big armchair beside the fire - the one that the both of you can fit snugly into together. “Let’s have a drink together.”

“I still have papers to fill out—” He attempts to say, but cuts himself off as you shake your head and stubbornly attempt to push him down into the seat. It doesn’t work - Lucifer’s much stronger than you, after all - but he does at least seem to appreciate the effort.

“You’re taking a break whether you like it or not,” You insist, starting to smack lightly at his arms in an bid to get him to listen to you. “Papers can wait. I’m more important.”

That does get a little chuckle out of him, and he finally relents, sitting down with a subtle sigh. “That goes without saying.”

You laugh, suddenly a little more hot around the collar than you’d have liked. “You said it!”

Pausing to retrieve the tray with the tea and biscuits and set it on the table beside the armchair, you quickly join Lucifer in front of the fire, snuggling in at his side and letting out a blissful sigh as you feel him start to draw circles on your arm with his fingers. It’s a sort of habit that he’s developed over the last few months - you’re not sure if he even realises that he’s doing it.

The two of you stay like that in comfortable silence for several minutes. Lucifer’s tense shoulders relax more and more with each passing moment, and soon enough, he’s sprawled out against you, pressing his cheek lovingly into the crown of your head. 

It’s only at moments like this that you get to see this softer version of him, so you always cherish it when it happens. Lucifer may be a slightly passive-aggressive panther who could kill most beings with a swipe of his hand if he sees fit, but, every now and then, he’s a sleepy panther who’ll roll over and let you scratch behind his ears.

Conversation is usually sparse at times like this - the two of you are content enough in each other’s presence that you don’t really need to make small talk. Today, however, Lucifer seems to have something he wants to vent about.

“Belphie has been missing a lot of his homework again lately,” He murmurs. You make a noise of affirmation to indicate that you’re listening, staring at the mugs of tea sitting on the table and pondering whether the two of you will actually manage to part for long enough to drink them.

“Is it anything important?” You ask after a moment, playing absent-mindedly with his left hand. He doesn’t make any move to stop you as you mess about with his slender fingers, so you assume that he doesn’t mind.

“Mostly essays,” He replies, shifting slightly and letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s never liked writing them, but he hasn’t had so many missing before.”

You make a thoughtful sound. Now that you think about it, wasn’t Belphie confiding in you about this the other day?

“It’s just hard to sit down and concentrate sometimes, especially when I’m always so tired,” You remember him saying resignedly over hot chocolate and marshmallows. “It’s not like I don’t want to turn all my homework in on time. Sometimes I just can’t.”

“Well, you shouldn’t force yourself to do them, either,” You’d replied, giving his shoulders a sympathetic pat. “Needs over school of course. If you need to sleep more, then sleep more - if you feel like you can’t write the essay, then don’t write the essay. I’ll talk to Lucifer if he gets mad at you.”

He’d given you a grateful smile then, and turned back to his hot chocolate with a marginally brighter look on his face.

“Belphie’s been having a lot of nightmares lately, so he isn’t getting as much sleep,” You say slowly. “I told him to go ahead and take as many naps as he has to. His needs are more important than schoolwork, after all.”

Lucifer takes a long while to answer, but you don’t mind. It’s only fairly recently that he’s really come to terms with the idea that he doesn’t need to be so hard on his brothers - that it’s okay to put their comfort before whatever image of respectability he’s trying to keep up for Diavolo. The change has been somewhat jarring, according to Satan, but it’s not an unwelcome one, and you’ll gladly take responsibility for it with your constant reminders and careful explanations that Lucifer’s younger brothers have their own problems that he needs to give more leeway for.

“...did he come to talk to you about this?” He asks finally.

“Yeah.” You can’t see his face, but you can practically hear the frown beginning to pinch at his brows. “I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but he does want to make you proud. He’s never wanted to disappoint you.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it with a low hum. “...Belphie has never disappointed me.”

“Seems that he doesn’t realise that sometimes, though,” You sigh, tracing the seams of his glove with your index finger. “He’s a good kid, really.”

Lucifer doesn’t give a verbal reply, but he does hum again. You shift slightly and turn to look up at him; he looks back at you with sleepy, half-lidded crimson eyes. “Take it easy on him, okay?”

He gazes at you in contemplative silence for a long while, blinking slowly like an affectionate cat. Finally, he nods, and you beam proudly, dipping your head to rest on his chest, carefully positioning yourself so that his buttons don’t dig into your cheek.

“I’ll speak to his teachers,” He says quietly. “We should be able to arrange something.”

You smile against the fabric of his waistcoat, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze. “That’s progress. I’m proud of you.”

He doesn’t respond, but you know full well that he loves it when you say that to him. He didn’t in the early days of your relationship, mostly because he’d thought you were patronising him, but now that the two of you are so much more familiar with each other, he’s learnt to recognise that you don’t mince words; you say what you mean, and you mean what you say. Which is exactly why, as the Avatar of Pride, he absolutely loves it when you tell him that you’re proud of him.

Lucifer himself is deep in thought. Struck by a sudden warmth spreading through him, quite independent of the crackling fire before him, he wraps his arms around you, resting his cheek against your head. It’s at moments like these, when you’re so close to him, that he realises just how fragile humans like you are.

It terrifies him sometimes, knowing that the unforgiving march of time means that you cannot be with him forever. One day you will leave, and you will grow old and fade away without him, because, no matter how much he wishes otherwise, you belong to a different realm. You are not a demon, and he is not a human; your worlds can collide briefly, for a single, beautiful moment, but then they will continue to move in their own orbit - and perhaps they will never meet again.

Some would say that, for this reason, he never should have fallen in love in the first place. Relationships like yours have always had a sort of taboo, even in the Devildom, because all beings are not created equal; humans have such short, meaningless lifespans compared to demons and angels, such little power, always depending on leaders and faith in a deity that they cannot prove the existence of. That is what demons tend to think of humanity, and until he’d met you, Lucifer had felt similarly.

But your life has been anything but meaningless, and the power you hold over him and his brothers is far stronger than any amount of potent magic that any being holds. The seven lords of the Devildom would lay waste to all three realms should anything happen to you. 

Lucifer had never thought that he had the ability to love so deeply and so purely, but then again, he’d also never thought that a human like you could exist. It seems that he’s been wrong about a lot of things, and he can only pray that he will be wrong in his prediction of how this will end.

But you’re with him now, curled up against him with a content smile on your face. For now, you’re here, and while you are, Lucifer doesn’t want to waste time on worries.

Your story is yet to reach its ending, and if Lucifer knows anything, it’s that he will stay by your side until then. As long as your worlds are still connected, he will continue to love you, and he will love you long after your worlds separate again.

He’s sure of it.

[owlbeanies]

AU In which the beta Trolls cheat In sgrub in order to avoid the jack situation and managed to shoot themselves back in time onto alternia. They get separated into multiple small groups.

Story follows mainly follows karkat and gamzee at first. This is well before murderstuck, and gamzee is useful for all of two seconds before getting horrendous sick from withdrawal. It might not be so bad if they had a reliable way of getting food and other resources(such as an alchemizer) but sadly they've found themselves in the middle of a city pre-second rebellion with not a penny to either of their names.

Karkat is stressed. He is very stressed. He has to find a way to provide for both of them in a matter a nights without also getting caught and dieing. He makes a smart decision to hide his sign, not because he realizes it puts him in danger, no, because he immediately decides the only course of action that makes sense is to turn to a life of crime(petty theft) and he doesn't want his crimes attached to his sign incase he has to sign-off on some legal bullshit later.

Gamzee is dieing. Not really he's okay 60% of the time and does what he can to help, but honestly the boy can't stand for 30 seconds without trying to throw up his guts. Gamzee pretty much serves as a decoy to throw off anyone looking for karkat. He is the least intimidating thing out there, but boy can he play up the "let me call my friends " card, which with his sign is terrifying enough to prevent any mildly inconvenienced person to ask questions.

At some point karkat runs into dualscar. Now he knows of dualscar through eridan, and he's a little freaked out at first but nothing comes of it so whatever. But then he keeps running into him. It might be partially his fault. Drunk people are really easy to rob and all the bars are a short walk from the docks so of course he's probably going to run into a couple of sea dwellers. Besides, he's only ever spoken 2 words to the fucker on accident and he doubts he was even noticed. As long as he keeps his distance he should be fine.

Gamzee’s getting a whole lot worse a whole lot faster, and karkat has pissed off the wrong person. He might have accidentally stolen from and subsequently injured a legislators' quad and now they need to flee town REAL fucking quick. Only problem being they don't have a map, and all the maps in town are the really fucking stupid ones that are far more complicated than they need to be for the sake of- what? Looking nice? Either way none of them are simple road maps and maybe if he had enough time to stare at them he could figure out where to go without getting lost, but time isn't something they have and gamzee knows how to read them quickly, so he packs the clown up and carries him to the map board. Gamzee can't see straight and even the small amount of light from the partially blocked moons manages to feel as if he just stared directly into the sun but boy does he try.

Dualscar meanwhile is sitting across the street in one of those face outdoor restaurant tables watching these two kids scramble to read a map. He downs whatever he's drinking and walks over because what in the fuck are they doing?

Karkat tells him to fuck off and mind his business.

He doesn't.

Gamzee figures out where they need to go and points.

They're offered a ride.

They both adamantly refuse because no absolutely not that is a horrible idea they will not be doing that ever. Then a legislator walks around a street corner in the background and they seriously consider it.

They both end up on the boat one way or the other, and not necessarily because they had a choice. Dualscar writes gamzee off as dead immediately and has him put with the other prisoners on the ship to be forgotten about. He doesnt know what he has and doesn't really care either. Karkat on the other hand is treated decently well. He got stuck doing basic bitch ship work, but hes fine. Any free time he has he spends taking care of gamzee who lost all coherence shortly after being picked up.

When they hit the docks karkat is paid for his time and told to run off now. Karkat is pleasantly surprised and is glad to be back on land, theres just one problem, wheres gamzee? Karkat is basically told "haha yeah no I'm keeping that one" and is no longer pleased. After one of many long winded and empty threats, he's then told the ships leaving in a week and he's free to join them again if he wishes.

Angry and alone karkat stops off into the new city.

He return, rather quickly at that, after spending everything he had on medicine and other essentials. Immediately he's back at Gamzee’s side. The ship sets sail again right on schedule and gamzee finally seems to be improving. It takes a few months for him to figure out how to stand on his own but once he gets it he's as hyperactive as ever to his own detriment. His balance is shot, and he's somehow clumsier than before. He keeps getting himself hurt and even worse than that, he's annoying the guards with his constant rambling. Karkat has on multiple occasions been sent down to shut him up for a few hours.

The second he's able to work, he's put to work and thank fuck that seems to shut him up. Any time they hit land they're both paid but only one of them is allowed to leave at any given time. It's stupid, it's annoying, they both know why it's done, and it's not like there's anything they can do about it. At least they're living better than they were.

Enviably karkat gets hurt. They get hit with a storm and karkat arm get pinch between two bits of metal. The injuries isn't terrible but it did rip off a decent amount of skin. Even in the heavy rain it's not possible to hide. While no one paid him any mind in the chaos once the storm had settled he's well aware of how royally fucked he is. Gamzee for the first time anyone has seen him is pissed. He's hyper aggressive towards anyone in his vicinity. The second karkat could be whisked away he boarded them in one of the sleeping quarters and threatens anyone who tries to open the door. It gets bad enough dualscar has to come in and swat at the both of them for being dumb. Karkats having a panic attack. Lil ol' gamzee who nearly breaks his neck 3 times a weak tripping over his own shoes is squaring up for a fight. There is no fight. No one cares about karkat. Infact they were keenly aware of karkat's blood the second they saw him all that time ago. Why do you think they fought so hard to keep hold of some random wrigglers? That boat is the safest place for them. When dual was asked why he’d help them at all if he knew, he just shrugged and said he owed someone a favor and keeping karkat alive was his way of repaying it.

Shit gets squared away. Sort of. The both of them are still extremely uncomfortable about the whole ordeal for months but not a thing comes out of it. Nothing bad at least. The two find themselves getting more comfortable on the ship. They start seeing the rest if the crew as friends and grow tight bonds with a lot of them.

Karkat, now freed from the constant nagging fear of getting found out, ends up far more bold than he otherwise would be. The rule stating only one is allowed to leave at a time is still there, but pushing his luck is his new favorite pass time.

Gamzee sustained numerous injuries from his sickness. Even sweeps later he still hasn't fully recovered. It's not obvious. He functions just fine on his own but one night he'd been out walking the town on his own and he ran across a group of subjugs. He's younger and smaller than the lot of them, not to mention a stranger, but they still invited him out for drinks and gossip. He goes, and hours later he returns safely, tipsy and a little high off whatever they were smoking, but safe. Dual take him out back to yell at him almost as soon as he returns. He's confused. He's gone drinking on his own before, and he's been out with karkat numerous times more, and never has he been screamed at for it. He takes offense. The only difference he can see is them being purple. They're family, his family, but that doesn't mean he'd run off with them. He'd never leave karkat behind, not ever would he dream of abandoning him. But that wasn't the problem. He put karkat in danger. He put the crew in danger. Is he really so deadpanned that he didn't think partying with the grand highblood and crew was a bad idea? Now Gamzee’s lost. When did he run into his ancestors? No one introduced themselves as such. He hadn't seen them. Didn't really see anyone actually, especially not the person wearing the same sign as him, embroidered fancily across their chest and down their arms.

Hes blind. For all he fought that label, stating he still saw shapes and colors, for the first time he had to admit it to someone. He begged him not to tell karkat. The last thing he wanted was to worry him. He was told he needed to, at some point, preferably soon, tell him himself. He left the conversation with a new rule placed on him for the time being. He's not allowed off the ship alone anymore.

[mighty-ragnarssons]

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter I

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Summary | Ivar always thought he'd be one of those people that never find the love of their lives. But then he found her - or, as the story goes, she bumped into him. He never saw it coming. Then he had to deal with it, and all the consequences that came along. Warnings | some smut, a little angst, harassement, teenage pregnancy

You can read in AO3 as well (click here). 

Chapter 1

There was no one in town that didn’t know about the Ragnarssons, the children of the famous Ragnar Lothbrok. They were fearless, they were reckless, and they were dangerous, just like their father. That’s what everybody said.

Bjorn was the eldest, the first-born of Ragnar’s first marriage with Lagertha. There had been a daughter too, Gyda, but she had passed away terribly young. After that, Ragnar had only sons born from his second marriage, this time with Aslaug. First came Ubbe, then Hvitserk and Sigurd. All of them perfectly healthy and strong boys that, much like Bjorn and to Ragnar’s amusement, took after their father in several ways. Unexpectedly and accidentally, however, there was a fifth child, the last son of Ragnar, Ivar. 

Ivar was very different from his brothers.

Born with a bone condition, he was crippled from the start. It was not just his legs that wouldn’t allow him to ever walk on his own, but a whole lot more pain coming from his frail bones that were never to be trusted. No wonder he grew up as a vulnerable, angry, and sad kid, despite being his mother’s favorite and most protected son. And now, as he was becoming a man, people called him mad and a drunk, a wild card with whom everyone rather stay away from. Ivar didn’t mind, he preferred to be tamed than to be pitied after a lifetime of being looked down on. In fact, he would do everything in his power to remain like this. It was the only way to prove himself and stay out of his brothers’ shadow and, most importantly, his father’s to who Ivar was the least favored son, something which hurt the boy more deeply than his constant physical pain.

“Hurry up, Ivar. Crawl faster, or else when we get to the club Ubbe and Hvitserk will have gotten all the best girls” Sigurd’s voice echoed loudly through the house. 

Ivar was there a second later clearly annoyed at his brother’s mocking tone. “Last time I checked, dear brother, you need me to drive you. So shut up. Let’s go.” 

Sigurd couldn’t argue back. He did need Ivar to drive them to the club. He kept failing at taking his driver’s license. It was humiliating to have to need his crippled brother to drive him, but Ubbe and Hvistserk, the bastards, hadn’t been home. Minutes afterward Ivar was behind the wheel of his accessible SUV and off they were.

Thirty minutes later they were skipping the line to get into the club. The Ragnarssons had their ways.  If there was one circuit in which their name was known by everyone, it was the nightlife one. No party would ever start without one of them being there. Ivar and Sigurd joined Ubbe and Hvisterk in the VIP area. As usual, Ivar took a corner where he knew he’d spend the next few hours drinking, smoking, and glaring at the dancing crowd. Perhaps if someone caught his eye he’d make a move, but usually, it was more like his brothers to do that.  

“There you go” Hvitzerk handed him a joint “Don’t look so serious, Ivar. The night is young. Enjoy!” By the looks of it, it was clear that he was already a bit high. But again it was Hvitserk and unusual would be to find him sober. “A lot of pretty ladies out there. Want me to pick one for you?” 

Ivar knew Hivtserk was only joking, but he still didn’t like it. His brother, ignoring Ivar’s cold glare and much to his annoyance, started pointing out to random girls who were dancing. “Oh, look at that one. C’mon Ivar, ain’t she a treat to stare at?”  

Thankfully, Hivtserk stopped his stupid game once their oldest brother Bjorn joined them, bringing shots to everyone with the help of his wife, Torvi.

“Brother, to what do we owe the honor?” Ivar said, throwing one of his ironic smirks. 

“I bring good news. Father is going to be released from jail sooner than expected. In three months to be exact! I had to pull some strings but it’s settled”

The news was received with different reactions. Sigurd didn’t seem that happy, while Ivar was the opposite. Ubbe was the first one to hold one of the shot glasses and started the toast “To Father! To Ragnar!”

Ragnar had been in prison for almost three years due to white-collar crimes, having been convicted of corporate fraud and money laundering. His sentence would’ve been of more than ten years, but Ragnar had his ways and was able to cut a deal for five years. And now, apparently, he would only serve almost four. Throughout this time it had been Bjorn taking over the leadership of the family’s successful business, Northmen Ventures, of which all of Ragnar’s sons had become the sole shareholders just before he was imprisoned. This explained why they were one of the richest families in their Norwegian city of Bergen. 

Bjorn,  now age 30, had been the natural successor of Ragnar. Not only because he was the oldest and perhaps the favorite son of Ragnar, but also because at the time he was the only one with a university degree, having just graduated from Law School. Yet, all of Ragnar’s sons were meant to get involved with the business. At least that was their father’s wish. Ubbe, now 24, had just graduated from Architecture School but had recently joined Bjorn on the company’s executive board.  Ivar wasn’t given the opportunity to help out, something which he grudged his older brothers - for dismissing him for his age, despite the fact that he’d watch and learned as much from his father as possible since an early age. Now 19 he was a freshman in college taking Business Administration. Then there were Hvitserk, 23, and Sigurd, 21,  the ones more adamant about following in their father’s footsteps. Hvitserk was using the money they were all getting to sustain his pricy bachelor lifestyle, and so was Sigurd who dedicated most of his time to art and music. Neither tried to pursue a higher education degree. 

“Don’t get too excited. Father will be back and then what? It’s not like he cares about us.” Sigurd, the mood killer, chugged his beer aggressively “He didn’t let us visit him in prison not even once. Not even Mother was allowed to. He didn’t even care for sending a postcard for Christmas!”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“And he left us the company”

“And so what? He just wanted to prevent it from ending up in the hands of the government.  Fuck him! You might all want to play the role of doting sons, but I’m not gonna tag along” After this Sigurd stormed off.

The remaining brothers looked at one another. A little bit of what Sigurd had just said resounsed with them, but at the same time they were excited to welcome back their father. Things would be very different with him around. 

“I say we celebrate.” Ivar said, not minding Sigurd. He couldn’t wait for his father to be back so that he could prove himself once and for all. He was no longer the defenseless crippled child he was when Ragnar went away. 

Despite the good mood he was in about Bjorn’s good news, Ivar wasn’t vibing with the club’s atmosphere that night. Hvitserk and Ubbe were making out with some random girls, Sigurd was nowhere to be seen and Torvi and Bjorn had left already. Instead, he was craving for some adrenaline and he knew just the way to get it. Texting his dealer, he left the club with the help of his crutches.

Nothing was to stop him except that on the way out someone bumped into him almost causing him to lose his fragile balance. Fury grew on Ivar who was about to yell at whoever made the mistake of infuriating him that night, but that’s when her face lost the blurriness of a few seconds ago and Ivar lost his balance again but for a completely different reason.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to...shit” 

“Bitch, get back! For the hundredth time, you’re not getting in!” 

The girl’s expression quickly turned one of desperation. “I told you I have to. My cousin needs help! Don’t stop me, please” Her words were towards the bouncer that was now pulling her back, but her pleading eyes were on Ivar as if asking for help.  

“Hey, let her go!”  Ivar didn’t know why, but his rage got up to new levels when he saw the bouncer getting his filthy hands on her. “I said back off. Take your fucking hands off of her.”

At Ivar’s command the bouncer let her go. It didn’t matter that he was a big muscle guy, Ivar took a step towards him and faced him with a cold death stare. 

“She’s coming in with me, do you understand?”

“Ragnarsson, she is a minor. I can’t let her in.”

“I’m not asking.” 

His tone set it. He nodded so that the girl got in the club ahead of him. She didn’t even say a word, going immediately in. Ivar had to hurry himself inside to catch up. 

“Fuck, there’s so many people” she noticed looking absolutely lost.

“Let me help you.” he offered. 

“The bathrooms. My cousin... she called me, she didn’t sound fine… I’m worried something’s happened... She said she couldn’t move” she was trembling as she spoke. Ivar reached her hand with his. 

“If she is here we are going to find her.” he assured her “Follow me” 

It was not typical of Ivar to help a lady in distress but as he was guiding this girl through the crowd of drunk dancing people he couldn’t understand the need he was abruptly feeling for shielding her and, worst of all, to comfort her. These feelings left him uneased, but he was not going to dwell into that right now. If his suspicions were right and her cousin was somewhere in the club, then she was probably drugged to the point of unconsciousness and in a position to be taken advantage of. 

They swiped all the bathrooms at the club until at last they burst into one where a girl was noticeably knocked down in a corner.

“Cathrine!” the girl immediately crouched down on her cousin. “Cathrine, can you hear me?” 

“All of you, get out” Ivar demanded the girls who were inside. Some tried to complain, after all he was the guy in a female bathroom. These same girls that had paid no attention, or they just didn’t care, to the other girl on the floor. He then went outside as fast as he could and got a water bottle.

“She’s awake, but barely. Says she 's dizzy. She’s not talking right” 

“She was likely drugged” It wouldn’t be a first in that club “Make her sip some water” he threw the water bottle at them. He really wanted to level down to them, but with his crutches and all it just wouldn’t go well. “I’m gonna find help.”

 He ‘raced’ to the VIP area. Only Hivtserk was there with a girl on top of him. What was wrong with his brothers for acting as if their corner was a place of public foreplay display?

“Hvitserk, I need your help!”

“Go away Ivar” he grumbled and continued to suggestively run his hands on the brunette over his lap.

Ivar had to take the matter into his hands. The first thing he found was a leftover cocktail on the table which he threw at the girl. Her immediate squeak was so high and audible despite the deafening music. She practically jumped from on top of his brother.

“You crazy motherfucker!”

“What the fuck Ivar?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Come with me. I need your help.” 

Usually he didn't have much faith in his brothers - after all they were a pain in his ass most of the time - but this time he was really hoping to call on Hvitserk’s good senses. Fortunately his prayers were answered and his older brother followed him back to the bathroom

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a passed out girl. We need to get her out of here.”

“Would you go so far as in to get laid, little brother? Oh, you sicko” 

“This is not the time for jokes, asshole. You’re the sicko for even suggesting that”

Ivar was almost regretting getting Hvitserk to help, but the truth was that he alone wouldn’t be able to carry the girl out from the bathroom. The moment they got in there Hvitserk got a bit more serious and kneeled next to the two girls. 

“Let’s get her out of here” 

Together with Hvitserk, the girl helped raise her semi-unconscious cousin. People inside the club were so fucked up that they didn’t drop one second to look at them leaving. 

“Take her to my car” Ivar indicated and so they did. He unlocked his metallic grey SUV from afar and went on to open the backdoors where they laid the girl. “Let her get some fresh hair. It will do her good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Hvitserk suggested.

A loud “No!” came from the inside of the car.

“She can’t. It will be too complicated” said the other girl but not without hinting her dissatisfaction.

Ivar finally took a moment to fully look at her. Dressed  in just a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, she was lean and tall, but at least a good ten centimeters shorter than himself. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands falling down on her face. He had to hold the instinct to gently brush those aside. And her eyes… They were a very greyish blue color like he had never seen before. They were mirroring worry and nervousness. 

“I’m calling a cab. Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you” she said facing Ivar and Ivar only. 

“I can drive you.” he offered without thinking.

“We already bothered you enough -”

Ivar cut her off “Nonsense. I’m going to drive you” he declares in a way that offered no other option.

Relief poured from her gaze “Thank you”

It was quite the drive, further out of Bergen’s city center. By the time they got there the passed out girl - Cathrine - had regained consciousness, albeit feeling nauseous and dizzy. Hvitserk carried her alone in his arms to the inside of the house and further into her bed. It was time enough for her to fall asleep like a rock.

“She seems just to need some rest. Keep her hydrated when she wakes up.”

“If she was drugged then it should wear off her system soon”

“Noted. I don’t know how to thank you both” 

“You could go on a date with one of us, how does that sound?”

“Hvitserk!” Ivar admonished in reaction to the girl’s shocked expression “Please, ignore my brother. He, too, has drugs that need to wear off his system”

“You’re no fun, Ivar” Hvitserk couldn’t argue back on the drugs part. “A pleasure to help, milady. Until next time” He did a silly bow and left the apartment back to the car. 

“Is he always like that?” 

 “Most of the time, yeah.” Ivar shrugged his shoulders “Hand me your phone” Because she did without complaining, he got it and put his number in there “I’m Ivar Lothbrook. Whenever you need help.”

What he really wanted to say was ‘text me’. He didn’t have the nerve for that, tho.

For the first time that night she finally showed a glimpse of a smile “Honestly, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help, Ivar Lothbrok” 

Her hand was touching his and for a moment everything seemed to stop. The way his name sounded on her lips… A shiver went down his spine. He wanted to hear it again, but most importantly he wanted to know her name.

But in that exact moment a horn yelled. Goddamned Hvitserk. He was going to wake up the whole street, which was the opposite of what the girls had asked. “I better go drive him home now or else he’ll wake up the whole neighborhood” 

Yet Ivar was finding it difficult to leave. To leave her. Another honk made him take the necessary steps.

“I mean it when I say for you to use my number whenever. Stay safe”

He finally closed the door behind him and walked back to the car, but not before looking over his shoulder. There she was, by the window, waving goodbye with a shy smile on her face.

He needed to see her again.

The next morning Ivar woke up rather hopeful of seeing a text message. Seeing there was none, his day didn’t kick off exactly on the right terms. Throughout the day he checked his phone more times than he cared to admit and each time he grew impatient and irritated. What was it about that girl to make him like this? It’s not like he usually gave a crap about whoever he met.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got a right cob-on” his older brother Ubbe asked later that day when they were all chilling by the firepit  in the backyard of the Lothbrook’s home.

Although in Norway it was uncommon for people their age to still be living at home, in their case that’s how things were and worked out great most days. Usually it was just the four brothers and the house was  big enough for them not to be in each other’s ways.. Their mother, Aslaug Lothbrok, ran one the country’s finest art galleries. After her husband’s arrest she had moved her gallery to the capital city, Oslo, instead of their home city. Lately she spent most of her time there rather than at home. 

“It’s nothing. Leave me alone” 

“He’s hung up” teased Hvitserk “Still thinking about the pretty blondie from last night, brother?”

Right that moment Ivar wished he could smack the mocking smiles out of his brother’s faces. 

“Well, well, well Ivar. Didn’t know you had company last night.”

“He didn’t.  Not exactly. None of us did” Hvitserk proceed to put Ubbe on the loop in regards to their little episode last night. “Instead of asking her for her number, our little brother gave her his. Wrong move, dude.” Ivar immediately regretted telling this to Hvitserk. “Don’t be so bummed out, Ivar. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Speaking of…”

A blonde Ivar doesn’t care much about exits their home in Sigurd’s company, both appearing content which can only mean one thing. Margrethe is a constant guest at the Lothbrok’s and probably the only female with the fame of being acquainted with all of the brothers’ rooms. Although a favorite among the Ragnarssons, to Ivar she’s nothing but an unpleasant company he is forced to tolerate after they fall out months ago. 

“If that’s the fish you’re hinting at, I’d rather go vegan” Ivar mumbled under his breath.

I hope you liked it! It’s my first Vikings fic :) Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language. At least five more chapters will be on the way.

[inpizzawecrust]

pandacorninravenclaw on instagram requested a drunk or sick sleepily Sirius accidentally admitting feelings for Remus and wondering why Remus is so happy the next day. enjoy :)

The marauders always went all out for each other’s birthdays. 

Well, James and Sirius went all out while Remus and Peter reluctantly went along with their shenanigans. 

It was only fitting that Sirius was determined to top all of their previous parties on their 18th birthdays because 

“It’s our last year, Remus, don’t be a buzzkill. Now help me sneak the keg in.”

So far, Sirius and Remus’ 18th birthdays had went off without a hitch, especially Remus’ having fallen on a Friday , but since James’ was the only birthday to fall on a Monday, Sirius was even more determined to make it their best party yet.

He reluctantly allowed Remus and James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, okay everyone, to convince him to at least reserve the party for the Sunday before, if not the Saturday or Friday.

Sirius arranged everything with the help of Remus and Peter because the birthday king--as Sirius always deemed them on their birthdays--was to not lift a finger in the party planning. 

And even though Remus and Peter always dreaded the parties, they were somehow the only people to accurately plan a party to the extravagance necessary for a party hosted by Sirius Orion Black.

On the night of the party, Sirius and James were already hammered before Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs arrived. James had his under control and was making his rounds to each person who walked in, graciously accepting the gifts.

Sirius, on the other hand, was already running around the room, finding anyone casually sitting and dragging them to the makeshift dance floor, begging to dance to whatever song had been playing.

Peter chuckled at the sight and handed Remus a drink, to which the latter rolled his eyes and took a big gulp. Neither were too fond of drinking, but at least they had each other to endure the party with. 

Remus stayed beside the record player, changing the songs to keep the mood up, while Peter was at the table beside him passing out drinks. The boy had a knack for remembering how much he gave to each person and when to stop serving them, not that he had much of a choice on the matter; He’d never hear the end of it from Lily otherwise.

Hours later, the party was still going strong, but it had passed the point of people listening to the music, so Remus changed the record and fell to the nearest couch, stretching his long limbs out, his feet dangling off the side.

He reached in his pocket for a tightly wrapped brownie that Sirius had made him that morning. The moon had only been two days ago and though Remus had a quick recovery, his body still ached from the transformation. 

Just as he bit into the brownie, a body landed on the middle of Remus’ stomach, causing him to groan.

“Pads, get off me.”

“But you’re not danccingg,” Sirius slurred with a pout. His pout faded once he saw what was in Remus’ hand, his eyes immediately widening, “I want one!”

“No, absolutely not.” He quickly said as he took another small bite.

“But Remuusssss!”

“Pads, this has weed—”

“I know, that’s why I want it, Moony.” Sirius drunkenly rolled his eyes as he took another sip, “Duh. Keep up, Moony, keep up.”

The boy continued telling Remus to keep up, snapping his fingers each time to Remus’ annoyance.

Sirius had a habit of repeating phrases with a snap when he was drunk. It had pissed Remus off to no end the first time the marauders were drunk since that was one of the only times Remus actually got drunk. 

Drunk Remus, who naturally has an even shorter temper than sober Remus, did not mesh well with drunk Sirius and his stupid snapping.

Not wanting to throw Sirius across the quidditch field again, Remus refrained from drinking much at the parties ever since, though he always blamed it on the distaste of alcohol.

“Where’s James?” He asked, hoping Sirius would get the hint and leave.

“Snogging Evans probably,” Sirius shrugged. Remus chuckled and took a sip of his water. “We should do that.”

Remus choked as he sat up, spitting his water out on the boy still on his lap. 

“Excuse you.”

“Excuse me? What did you just suggest?”

“That we snog? I’m sure there’s an empty broom closet somewhere.” Sirius said casually as he started looking around. 

Suddenly, Sirius was on his feet and walking away as quickly as he came, leaving Remus in shock on the couch. 

Remus thought about it for a moment. He’d be lying to himself if he said the idea of snogging Sirius in a broom closet hadn’t crossed his mind before.

Hearing the words from Sirius’ mouth only sent butterflies to his stomach because surely it meant that Sirius had been thinking about it too.

But Sirius was drunk and would probably say that to anyone at the moment, it just so happened to be Remus at the receiving end.

Sighing, Remus made his way up the stairs, avoiding the remaining crowd on his way. He flopped to his bed as soon as he entered the dorm and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to overcome him.

Just as he was nearly asleep, the door flung open.

“Luupppiiinnnnn!”

“Dear god,” Remus muttered to himself as he rubbed his eyes. “Pads, have you stopped drinking yet.”

Sirius had crossed the room and was at the foot of Remus’ bed with a frown on his face at the question being asked.

“Moons, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Well I’ve been here.”

“I see that. Move over.”

Before Remus even had the chance to process what had been said or even think about moving, Sirius crashed into him for the second time that night. 

This time, he had his head on Remus’ chest, an arm still outstretched to keep the drink in hand from spilling, and his legs across Remus.

Remus quickly took the cup from Sirius’ hand and set it down out of the drunk boy’s reach. Once the cup was out of his hand, Sirius’ arm fell and draped over Remus as he nuzzled his head into Remus’ chest.

“Cuddle back.” Sirius thickly said into Remus’ chest.

The werewolf was conflicted. 

Surely, he couldn’t let Sirius cuddle him when this obviously meant more to him than it did to Sirius. 

But Sirius, drunk or not, would throw a fit if he didn’t get what he wanted.

Not in the mood to argue, Remus sighed and loosely put an arm over the boy. 

He’d just have to wait for Sirius to fall asleep, then he’d carefully untangle himself and sleep in one of the other beds.

It seemed like the only solution until Sirius shifted about some more and somehow snaked his other arm underneath Remus, clasping his hands together.

Remus’ heart simultaneously sunk and raced at the realization that he, Remus Lupin, was stuck in Sirius Black’s arms. 

“Y’know what I love, Reeemuus?”

“Your hair?”

“Duh. But no, try again.”

“Hmm, your leather jacket?”

“RIGHT ON THE MONEY LUPIN!” Sirius yelled in Remus’ ear.

“Sirius, be quiet!”

“Sorry.”

Remus chuckled. He didn’t think he had ever seen Sirius this drunk before.

“D’ya know why I love my leather jacket, Reeemuus?”

Remus stifled a laugh at the sound of Sirius drunkenly stretching out his name and was only able to shake his head.

“Be-cause you bought it for me.”

Remus didn’t know what he was supposed to say at such a statement and settled for just closing his eyes. Hopefully he’d drift off to sleep before Sirius made some other ridiculous declaration.

“You’re the best, Remus. Like trullyy the best. Dunno how you do it.”

“Do what, Pads?”

“Be the greatest person in the world, of course!” Sirius said as though it were obvious. Remus felt his cheeks redden, but refused to open his eyes. Sirius must not have noticed, for he continued.

“You’re the greatest person in the world. I mean, you help all the younger kids with their work. I’ve seen you give one of the scared first years some of your chocolate and you don’t even share it with me! You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met—oooh! Moons, I just thought of the best comparison!”

Sirius struggled to sit up a bit to see Remus’ face. If Remus hadn’t been so curious to see where Sirius was going with this, he would’ve pretended he was sleeping, but instead he opened his eyes to see Sirius staring back at him with the biggest grin plastered on his face.

The grey eyes were the only light in the room of darkness and being mere inches away from them sent a chill up Remus’ spine.

“You’re the light, Moons, obviously, you’re Moony. But I’ve always been around darkness and terrible people until I met you. You’re the light in my life—”

“Sod off, don’t get sentimental.” Remus said, his face turning crimson. He closed his eyes again to avoid Sirius’ face.

Eventually, Sirius brought his head back to Remus’ chest and tightened his arms around Remus again.

“‘M not lying. You’re my light, Remus, and I love you.” He said just as Remus fell asleep.

The next morning, Remus surprisingly woke to an empty bed. He hadn’t expected Sirius to stick around, in fact, he more or less anticipated Sirius leaving the moment he came to his senses and saw who he was sleeping beside.

But as he thought back to last night, Sirius’ words kept replaying.

“You’re my light, Remus, and I love you.”

It could be a platonic thing, Remus thought, but that didn’t change the feeling in his stomach.

In fact, he had a bit of excitement in his step as he put on his uniform and raced down the stairs. He was one of the last ones to breakfast that morning and happily took his normal seat beside Sirius, who had his head in his hands.

“Thought you didn’t drink last night, Moony,” Pete said from across the table.

“Didn’t. Just slept in.” Remus shrugged, not able to shake the smile from his face.

“Stop yelling!” Sirius hissed as he turned up, his eyes meeting Remus’. “What’s with the smile—Fuck, it’s too bright in here!”

“You don’t remember last night, Pads?” Remus smirked as Sirius brought his head back to his hands.

“Does it sound like I remember last night?” Sirius croaked out. “Merlin’s beard, I’m never drinking again!”

Remus smiled and helped himself to his usual big breakfast.

For the rest of breakfast, him and Pete continued on as if nothing was wrong, much to everyone else’s dismay. They were the only ones not hungover and slowly their friends left the table, not able to handle the “loud” conversation.

Sirius was the only one remaining and when breakfast was over, he slowly rose and caught Remus’ grinning face again.

“Seriously, Moons, what’s up with you?”

Remus smirked and contemplated messing with the boy. It wasn’t much contemplation since Remus could hardly ever resist messing with Sirius.

“You love it, Pads,” He shook his head before leaning to the shorter boy’s ear. “I mean, I am the light of your life.”

When Remus pulled back and stood straight up, Sirius was just as red as Remus had been last night.

Satisfied with Sirius Black being a flustered mess and at a loss of words from his doing, Remus smirked and strode off to class.

[stradlingmrstradlin]

So I enjoy writing and I this is the first story that I wrote with the intent of being posted. Constructive criticism is always welcome ♥️

Here's the story

Steven x Duff

Reader x Izzy

(No warnings, maybe swearwords if that counts, also I don't promote underage drinking)

I think I managed to stay gender-neutral

Words: 2794

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You were on a road trip with the guys, how did you end up here? Oh well, you've known the guys for a few years as you were good friends with Steven since you were kids, but you had a falling out because he moved around quite a lot and your family did too.

When you were 14 your family moved to Seattle and stayed there for 4 years. In those years you met a blond-haired dude whose name was Michael or as you and a few other people called him, Duff. You and Duff met at a corner store when you were 15 and tried to steal a bottle of vodka. Duff was also lurking around the alcohol section, also probably trying to steal some alcoholic beverage.

But he was, according to the store manager, a suspicious punk guy...so he got kicked out before even getting his hands on anything. You felt bad for him so after sliding a bottle in the inside pocket of your denim jacket and throwing a wink and a charming smile towards the cashier you walked out.

So there you were at eighteen having to say goodbye to Duff because your family was moving away... again but now to Ireland. You had a huge argument with your family about always moving and you losing all of your friends because of them so you made a decision, to run away. Ok, I know that's a stupid idea because how the fuck will you survive on your own?

Your family was well off so you decided to take a bit of money with you, they probably wouldn't even notice.

You lived in quite a few places after that, from the back alley of the theater to Duff's place, his family loved you so it was ok. When Duff decided to move to LA to pursue his dream of being in a band you of course followed him.

You moved into a small one-room apartment together, but it was great. Living with Duff is fun. But he always moved stuff on the top shelf to mess with you, and also money was tight. You guys both worked a lot but it was alright.

He joined a few bands and played a few gigs in shitty bars but none of them worked out. You played guitar so you tried but it was the same with you, never being able to keep a band together for more than a month. Also being a girl didn't help, because many bands thought that it'll ruin their image if a girl is in the band.

Eventually, he put an ad in the paper looking for a band and that's how he met the other guys. You were super surprised to see Steven there but also happy to see him. Also, you remembered Slash from meeting him with Steven maybe a couple of times. The only new people were the two boys, who, as you later found out were from Indiana. The one who looked a bit like Johnny Thunders was hot, but you ignored that fact for now.

The first thing you noticed between your two blond friends was a bit of jealousy, at first you thought maybe they liked you and were jealous of each other, but after a while, even before they knew it, you caught onto the real reason. They didn't like you, at least not romantically, they liked each other. But for about four years they didn't act in their feelings...(later on about that)

Eventually, in 1985 they formed Guns N Roses. The guys liked you, and Axl tried to fuck you, but after a big smack on the head and an angry talking to by Duff he quickly forgot that idea.

So now in 1988 here you were sitting in the back of a van, that Izzy was driving because he was the only sober one...today. Tomorrow probably you'll have to drive.

Your pov.

We were in the car for about twenty minutes and everything was calm...for now. Led Zeppelin was coming from the radio and Axl was softly singing along, in the front seat and Izzy was driving. Duff sipping something from a bottle, probably something alcoholic, and slowly falling asleep and leaning on Steven's shoulder. Steve was smiling per usual, but if possible his smile got even bigger when Duff's head landed on his shoulder. But as all good things come to an end, the comfortable silence got broken.

"I have to pee!" Steven suddenly yelled out, causing Duff to lift his head off of Steven's shoulder and look around in confusion. "The fuck is going on?"

Axl just grumbled "Steven is a fucking baby and can't go and use the toilet before road trips...no he has to use them when we are in the middle of a fucking highways"

Slash snorted at Axl's response but didn't say anything as he didn't want to get into this argument, surprising.

Can't the guys stay still for one second?

"Izzy, can you please stop the car at the next rest stop?" I asked, as kindly as possible not wanting to further upset Rosie and listen to him throwing a temper tantrum for the next hour or so, he's annoying sometimes.

Anyways we stopped at the next stop, and Steven almost ran to the restroom. I switched places with Axl because he was tired and wanted to sit in the back, so he could stretch out a bit. Now Axl was sitting next to Slash, and Steven came back jumping in next to Duff. We're on the road again.

"Can I switch the music?" Izzy looked at me with almost puppy dog eyes, well I didn't think that was possible.

"Of course, what do you have in mind?"I replied almost laughing because of the face he was making

"Maybe Hanoi Rocks?" He again looked at me with the same stupid face.

"Fine, just stop making that face because I'll probably die from laughter" At this point, I just straight up burst out laughing and he just threw a cute lil smile my way. I was super proud of myself because I made THE Izzy Stradlin laugh.

A little background on me and Izzy. When we first met I ignored that he was hot because I didn't want to mess anything up for Duff with the band, but in the next two years that feeling grew from "oh, he's hot" to "I want to fuck him". No, we never fucked, but at a party in 87' we had a really hot make-out session which was sadly ended by a drunk Slash passing out on top of me...that was a wild party. There were no awkward feelings between us but we never took it further either. We sometimes cuddled and kissed when we needed human contact but nothing else. I always wanted more, but Izzy...Izzy is a mysterious guy, hard to figure out, the only person who somewhat is able to figure him out is Axl...but you don't go to Axl asking for advice, because Axl's advice is usually bad advice.

..My thoughts were interrupted by the opening cords for Don't You Ever Leave Me, which's one of my favorite songs. Izzy glanced at me and seconds later we were quietly singing because we didn't want to disturb our four friends who were asleep in the back. Axl and Slash were leaning on each other and Axl's face was barely visible because of Slash's hair. Duff was leaning on a window and Steve was cuddled up to him.

As I was looking at my friends when Iz asked me a question "When do you think they'll realize that they like each other because you have to be an idiot to not realize it, I mean Steven always smiles around Duff, and Duff is so cuddly with steven?" Oh boy, the problem was, that our friends were indeed stupid, at least on the topic of love. "I don't know Iz, they are after all a bit ignorant when it comes to love" As I said this I saw something in Izzy's face change, but I couldn't identify it because it was gone pretty soon. After that we didn't talk much, only glancing at each other a few times but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything, we just didn't have anything else to say out loud.

However, my thoughts were really loud... Ignorant with love? That sounds like us, maybe after all Duff and Stevie weren't the only stupid ones.

...It was around 6 pm when we got to our destination, a fairly large cabin up in the hills, between a shit ton of trees. Nice, finally we can rest without reporters, fans, and annoying paparazzi asking about the private life of the guys.

Everyone had their own room as nobody really wanted to share, we specifically looked for a cabin with 6 rooms, we love each other but sharing a room is annoying. In the beginning, when we didn't have much I shared rooms with probably all of the guys.

Axl is an annoying little fucker, he kicked me in his dream a lot of times, my back hurt a lot after. Slash is nice, he let me have my own space on the small bed we slept on and didn't bother me, well he accidentally woke me up when he fell off the bed, but that sucks for him, not me. Steven and Duff both love cuddles, Steven almost suffocated me once but other than that it's nice sleeping next to them. Izzy...He doesn't hug you or cuddle up to you when you're going to sleep but somehow you always wake up tangled together.

After we brought up our luggage to our assigned rooms Slash had the awesome idea to watch a film. Steven wanted to watch something funny but Axl quickly told him to fuck off.

"Axl, that's very rude" Duff quickly came to the help of Steven. "Yeah, well I ain't watching some shitty comedy, that's for pussies" ..Axl is an asshole sometimes

Slash had enough of arguing and just put on a horror movie and told everyone to shut up and watch the movie.

Halfway through, Steven was cuddled up to Duff, hiding in his chest.

Axl laughed every time someone died, and Slash always shushed him.

Outside pov.

As the movie went on Steven was buried under his hair, two blankets, and most importantly to him, in Duff's arms. How can they be so stupid? Not noticing something that's there?

But they weren't the only stupid ones, no there was a black-haired boy, and you. Also stupid... too stupid in love to notice what's there.

After the movie ended you made food for the guys. Duff decided to help, as the others were pretty incapable of cooking or didn't want to help.

Your pov.

"You know y/n you're blind for not noticing how Izzy looks at you." Duff stated bluntly. "Well McKagan then you're pretty blind for not noticing how Steven looks at you"

"What do you mean?" He asked with...hope? His eyes got wider and you could hear his voice shake a bit.

"Duff, are you serious? Steven likes you, he always tries to be close to you, looks at all the groupies you fuck with so much anger in his eyes, I never thought he could be so angry. And don't think I don't see you staring at him all day" I said with a sweet smile on my face.

"I don't get it y/n..he..he likes me?"

"Yes Duff, he does, he really does, so please don't mess this up, promise me you'll talk to him while we're here"

I really hope he'll talk to him because it's probably eating them up from the inside to keep these feelings locked away.

"But! Y/n, you should talk to Izzy too, you have something between the two of you" Duff looked at me with pleading eyes

"Duff, things are complicated, we.... well, we know about each other's feelings but, I don't know, I guess we're just too afraid to fuck it up"

I don't know about his feelings, to be honest, but I'm definitely scared to fuck up because I really like him. For a time I never thought I'd be able to love someone, and I know that's a strong word to use, but when he came along, stuff changed.

By the time we were done cooking the guys were all hungry and basically ran to the kitchen, I was really conflicted inside from our conversation with Duff. Should I mention it to Iz? Probably should. Whatever, I'll think about it later.

Night came around and everyone retreated to their own rooms to sleep, or in my case think.

Outside pov.

Slash and Axl were fast asleep in their rooms, but the others weren't.

Duff was sitting in the kitchen, head in his hands muttering to himself about being a coward and stupid. Steven however noticed someone downstairs and when he saw Duff and what he was muttering to himself he got sad. How could this perfect human being think that he's stupid? He tiptoed behind him and pulled Duff in his arms from behind. Duff was sitting so the back of his head was pressed into stevens chest. At first, Duff was scared but as soon as he smelled the familiar and calming scent of Steven he instantly felt comfortable, like he was at home. Steven turned Duff around and carefully put his fingers under the taller man's chin and leaned down to press a love-filled kiss onto his lips. At this moment both of them understood everything without words. Duff stood up hugging Steven and lifting him up to take him to his room. They didn't do anything else besides cuddling and a lot of kisses, but both of them felt safe and eventually, they fell asleep with Duff on his back pulling Steven close to him, almost on top of him. This is how they'll be found when you walked into Duff's room in the morning to tell him something.

What was that something?

Well after a lot of thinking you got up and went to Izzy's room. It's now or never you though.

Your pov.

My fingers softly collided with the wooden door and a rustling noise inside told me that Izzy heard it. This seemed like a really bad idea all of a sudden. Well, can't do anything about it now.

A soft "Who's there" could be heard from inside the room "Just me, can we talk?" I replied really quietly wondering if he heard me.  "Yeah, come in"

"Iz, look I'm going to tell you something, ok? Please don't interrupt me."

"Alright"

"So you know when we met, I immediately found you extremely hot. Well, those feelings grew a lot since then, and when we kissed at the party, it just, felt so...right? I know you'll probably tell me that you were just drunk all of the times you kissed me, or just felt lonely. But Iz, I like you, a lot." Silence, that's all, he said nothing. Just staring at me with his signature poker face.

"I knew it, sorry for disturbing  you, I'll just go now, forget it please!"

As I turned to walk away he grabbed my arms and pulled me back into a hug that soon turned into a kiss. When I opened my eyes again we were cuddling on his bed. This is where I felt home, felt alright, in his arms.

"I'm sorry for not responding love, it was just shocking to hear that you liked me. I thought you kissed me all those times just to anger Duff or Axl. I guess I just never thought you'd want to be with a junkie " Izzy whispered looking down at his arms sadly

"You thought wrong Iz, I don't give a fuck about what you do, well yes I don't like you doing drugs, but also you can get over that and to me you are perfect" 

"Maybe it's too soon to say, but I love you y/n, I really do."

"I love you too Iz"

Outside pov.

Maybe they weren't so stupid after all, just scared of their feelings. The two blond boys, who understood each other without words. Izzy and you, on the other hand, needed words to understand each other fully.

But what matters is that in the end, everything was alright.

[bleh-bleh-blehs]

Are you there?

Tom Holland x Reader

A/N- This is my submission to @hollandsrecs‘ fic bingo. This the most mature thing I have ever written (kinda graphic), so please don’t read if anything triggers you. This is completely a figment of my imagination. Please, please leave feedback, like and reblog. I think that’s it. Enjoy:)  feel free to call me out for my mistakes

Warning-  Trying to do suicide (graphic), taking compromising pictures without consent, posting compromising picture without consent. (PLEASE NEVER DO ANY OF THESE)

Word count- 2.5k 

Tom was in a hurry, so much hurry that he forgot to take the correct number of his new assistant. He didn’t even bother confirming it. To be honest he wanted to sleep; he wanted rest. The countless stunts, shoots, reshoots had drained every single ounce of energy he had. 

They were half way shooting but Tom’s previous assistant couldn’t keep the privacy of both Tom and the movie secret. Hence David was introduced.

Tom wanted to leave so badly that he forgot to tell David that he was taking a break tomorrow. The director was shooting some scenes that did not include him. And Tom consulted his day off with the director at the last minute. If Tom was not on set then why would David be there too. 

“Come David pick up the phone.” I was the sixth time Tom had called the number, which he thought belonged to his P.A. He let out an irritated sigh, his head was pounding and Tom thought it would almost burst now. 

“What do you want?” The call was answered finally. But the voice on the other side was of a girl, in a quiet whisper. Her voice was a bit hoarse as if she was crying. 

Tom didn’t even bother about him calling the wrong person or informing David. He was now worried about the person who answered his call. ”Are you alright?” he finally asked. This was the only thing he felt was right to say.

“Why do you care, and who are you?” she replied with a gulp. “I was trying to call someone else and I have clearly called the wrong number, but now I am worried about you. Your voice sounds like you’ve been crying for hours. So therefore I am gonna ask you again. Are you alright, darling?”

And then he heard nothing, it was radio silent on the other side. Tom checked his phone to see if the girl had hung up, but she hadn’t.  “Are you there?” he asked again.

After a few minutes of what Tom felt like an eternity, the girl replied. “I am not.” Was all she said before she broke down into tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey, drink some water and talk to me.” Tom tried to calm her down. He forgot about informing David about his day off, he totally forgot about his headache. He was genuinely worried about the girl he had accidentally called.

“I just want to die, I am done with this mental torture.” she cried uncontrollably. “ Please don’t think about dying. Think about your friends and family, think about how much your death will hurt them. Please dear, don’t take any wrong step.” Tom said, already panicking.

“My family will hate me after they know what happened. And I don’t have friends, not after what happened to me.” Tom was more confused now, he wanted to know what happened to her. And can only guess that whatever it was, it was bad enough for her to think about dying.

But Tom will not ask her now, maybe later but right now it was important to calm her down and help her with whatever he can. 

*

It wasn’t your fault that everyone judged you; called you names. You always preserved yourself for someone you trusted; but that didn’t since a bastard thought it was good to take you to his bed when you were drunk. 

And if that was enough he took your nude photos when you were sleeping and posted them on the university’s instagram account, operated by students, where every single student of the university can see it.

And since from then you were called words that you never thought would be given to you. 

Your photo was taken down by instagram but you were sure that people had it saved in their phones. You didn’t have many friends but the one you had left you alone. You were alone in this place that  had become hell for you. 

The teachers paid no mind to students’ business. Everyone either looked at with great hate or made a comment about you. You didn’t even exist for them before this scandal.

You tried to stay strong but everybody has their breaking point. 

And you decided to end it all. The only thing that would save your parents from being ashamed of you. The only thing that would end it all. 

Here you sat with a blade in your hand, focusing all of your courage to bring your other up. As you were just about to cut your wrist your phone rang. You didn’t bother to answer it and focus on the task you were doing. 

You let it rang again and again, you didn’t let your phone bother you. But then you lost all the courage you have had build to kill yourself. And you looked at your phone to find that an unknown number was calling you. 

You finally answered it asking “What do you want?” to whoever was calling you so desperately. Your voice still hoarse from all the crying you have done before.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked, it was laced with worry . You felt as if an angel had called you to stop you from ending your life. You sobbed at the thought. Even his voice sounded angelic. 

“Why do you even care and who are you?” His sweet voice confused you a little bit. Why would someone worry about you and he didn’t even knew you. 

 “I was trying to call someone else and I have clearly called the wrong number, but now I am worried about you. Your voice sounds like you’ve been crying for hours. So therefore I am gonna ask you again. Are you alright, darling?” He replied. You started to process his words in your head, thinking if you have heard him correctly.

“Are you there?” he asked a few minutes later. Your mind was debating on telling your problems to a stranger but at least he was listening. 

“I am not.” You said before breaking down into tears.

“Hey, hey, hey, drink some water and talk to me.” You tried to calm yourself as much you could.

“I just want to die, I am done with this mental torture.” you said. “ Please don’t think about dying. Think about your friends and family, think about how much your death will hurt them. Please dear, don’t take any wrong step.” he immediately said. How can someone be so kind in this world. You totally believed that he was an angel.

“My family will hate me after they know what happened. And I don’t have friends, not after what happened to me.” You were sure that he must be confused and you wanted to tell everything but not right now. You checked the time on your phone, it was almost 1am.

“I will tell you but I think we should sleep now.” you said praying that he will let the topic go. You just wanted some rest. And since it was the weekend there will be no shity comments and the judging glares for you.

“Ok but promise me that you’ll not hurt yourself.” he told you. “Yes I won’t and I owe you answers, so will not leave you hanging.” You sat up straight, you were tired of everything and the worry in his voice was the only thing that made you really rethink your decisions.

“You don’t owe me anything darling” he replied. You smiled loving the way he called you ‘darling’. “I never asked your name? By the way I’m Y/N.” you heard him chuckle and swear to god it sounded so cute. 

“I am Tom and I think we should sleep because I am in desperate need of sleep.” he yawned  and you chuckled. “I don’t wanna sound like a cheesy person but laugh sounds much better than your cry.” You laughed at him. “Oh, does it?” “Yep.” he yawned again.

“You should sleep.” you tell him. “Yeah, and so should you. Have you eaten anything today? If you haven’t, then eat something before sleeping. Okay.” He said firmly.

“I will. Bye Tom and thank you for listening to me.” You said before getting up, throwing the blade away. “Yeah bye and the pleasure was all mine. Goodnight Y/N” he said before hanging up. You were really hungry; you literally stopped eating properly since your photos were released. 

*

You and Tom talked the whole weekend away. You told him about you losing your virginity to someone so cruel, who finds it funny to show everyone your modesty. You decided not to go to university since you would lose all your confidence because of what been happening to you.

And Tom supported you in your decision. It was final semester anyway and your final exams were going to start by the end of the week.

*

You studied for exams without paying attention to the chaos happening in your life. Late night talks with Tom kept you sane. You walked into your university with embarrassment and paid no mind to what others had to say about because at the end of day you will call Tom and tell him how brave you were. 

No matter how busy he was, Tom would always return your call. He even ordered pizzas for you. But sadly he is gonna leave soon and you begged him to meet you but he always said “I will meet when it is the right time.” and you huffed at him. “When will the right come.” you whined.

“Patience my darling. And tell me where that div lives.” you laughed at Tom; The way he switches his American accent his British accent always made you both fascinated and made you laugh. 

“I have already told you his name. But I don’t exactly know where he lives. At first I thought he lived in the frat house but he lives in one of his father’s expensive apartments. “But what is the most common place to find him?” Tom asked. “Parties. You can always find him at parties.” You said scrunching your eyebrows together, wondering what Tom was up to. “Are there any parties in the near future where he would definitely be?” he asked.

“Yes, there is a party on saturday, where I think he would be.” you said scratching your forehead. Why was he asking these questions, you thought.

*

“Can you go there?” Tom asked, he had this master plan and David was helping him in it.

“Tom I stopped going to parties after what had happened to me.” He heard the fear in Y/N’s voice. “Don’t worry darling, I am going there too. Just text me the address and you wanted to meet me too right? We will just show horse fuckers that you are not alone.” he heard you sigh. 

“Fine, only because I want to meet you.” You said. Tom turned around and showed thumbs up to David who returned the gesture. “Thank you darling, I have to go now. Talk to you later.” Tom said rather excitedly.

*

Saturday came quickly and here were standing in front of your mirror having second thoughts about your dress. It was showing a bit of your cleavage and your thighs. But then you thought ‘fuck it’ you are getting ready for Tom and didn’t want to think about what those idiots are comment about our body. 

You started to feel nervous as soon as you walked into the party. Many boys whistled at you, called you names, many gave you a grossed out expression. And you waited for Tom to come because what else could you do?

*

Tom arrived at the party 5 minutes later after he got your text saying that ‘you have arrived there’. He knew that every second for you was hell there alone. The obnoxious loud music was hurting his ears. 

He told David to cover for him because Tom didn’t want anyone to recognize him. Well he doubted that anyone can recognize since they are so drunk but he was proven wrong when some girls walked near him. David helped him push to push past the crowd. 

“Which one do you think is Y/N?” David asked him. Tom smiled and pointed at you standing in the corner. “The one who is alone, trying to cover herself and is also looking for someone.” he started to walk near. 

“David can please shut this loud music.” David mumbled a quiet ok and left towards the DJ.

*

“Y/N.” you heard someone call your name. You turned to find Tom, no Tom Holland standing beside you. “Hey darling.” he said. His voice was the same as the voice you have been hearing since past month.   

How can you be so idiot and not realise that you were talking to a celebrity. The celebrity you had been crushing on. 

“I know I am handsome, darling but you don’t have to stare.” he chuckled and you pouted. You were well aware of the glares you were getting. “You are much more pretty than I have imagined.” he said, intertwining your and his hands. 

“Where is he?” He asked you and you looked up towards the crowd to find the person who had destroyed your life. You found him almost immediately, he stood there with a neutral expression on his face. 

You nodded in his direction and Tom got into action. “You are the one I’ve heard about. Aren’t you?” Tom looked so intimidating like this, anyone in their right mind would know that he was angry. David made sure no one was recording this. 

“Well I think I am pretty famous if you have heard about me.” That jerk had the audacity to smirk. “Only the bad things.” Tom said as he backed that div into the wall. “You know you can get sued for posting someone’s nudes without their consent and you even took them without her consent.” Tom gritted his teeth at him.

“Oh really and who is gonna sue me. Y/N? She doesn’t have enough money to do that.” His smirk grew wide. “Oh in that case David.” Tom motioned towards David. On the queue Davis gave a pen and document to you and told you to sign them.

You signed them as fast you could and gave them back to David. 

“There you go, she has sued you. David will submit the document tomorrow. I hope your father is proud of you. Come on darling let’s get out of here.” You took his hand and left very shocked kids behind. 

“Oh my god you are Tom Holland.” you start to fangirl as soon as you sit in his car. ‘Yes darling, the one and only.” he chuckled. “Can I hug you?” you blurted and started to laugh. “Of course Y/N, you don’t have to ask me.” And he engulfed you in a tight hug which reciprocated. 

You felt unbelievably safe in his arms. 

*

Your love for Tom only growed with time and Tom felt the same. You were with your family currently, searching for jobs in London because you didn’t want a long distance relationship. 

And Tom couldn’t be more happier than picking you up from the airport, knowing that you are going to live with him.

He can’t be more grateful that he called the wrong number that day. 

Permanent Taglist:- 

@spidey-reids-2003, @musicalkeys, @mischiefmanaged011, @parkerpeter24, @missguidedlani, @justanothermarvelmaniac, @whatthefuckimbisexual, @peterspideysstuff, @halfblood-princess-505, @liestookmyvibes, @captainchrisstan, @rnatasha, @seutarose , @adriannajackson, @tombob2005, @ethereal-beauty-p, @hollanderfangirl

Mutuals who I thought might be interested:- 

@chloecreatesfictions, @hollandtown, @fallinfortom, @azaraspirit

[writeiolite]

tangelo envelope

plot: you become user kk9kk5′s sim. send a color from here (ty anon!).

warnings: vibrators, butt plug, overstimulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, master/pet-play themes, nudes, alcohol, mutual masturbation, and hookups

wc: 5,000

. . . — ♡ crossposted to my AO3

“Hey, you wanna get out of he-”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

You and Kenma left the party as fast as possible that night after your invitation. He doesn’t even know how he got convinced into attending, but he’s not mad about it anymore. You had gotten a bit too drunk and made out with him in some random bedroom when he accidentally walked in on you. He wasn’t any better — Kuroo got him to down a few drinks that night as well and the rest was history.

You’ve been on his mind ever since. He’d never done something so bold like that night, but maybe parties are a little fun. He still tells Kuroo no when he gets invited out, even if Kuroo teases him with a “That girl you went home with will be there.”

He always knew where you’d be and it wasn’t at some dumb pirate-themed frat party on a Friday night. No, you were right there on his screen later on doing what you usually do on Friday nights — work.

Well... camming is work too.

This is how he first heard of you, actually. Nobody besides him knows that and he doesn’t plan on telling anyone even if he’s on his death bed. He recognized you from your shows when he saw you at the frat party and like any other sane, horny teen, he let himself be guided to your hotel that night. It was the first time someone had expressed that kind of interest in him — and it was you. This was an untouched fantasy for him and he certainly couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. Honestly, he doesn’t think he would’ve had the courage to tell you no that night anyway. You were so much more ethereal in person and the fact that he was the one you wanted...

Kenma throws his head back in frustration just remembering the night with you. It’s been a regular occurrence at this point — he’ll game and make some money, go on your cam shows, donate a generous amount for the benefits, then get off thinking about it later. It was ideal for him like this. You don’t know who he is but you’ve fucked him already. He doesn’t know when he became such a closet pervert but he’s happy this way. No one gets hurt and you get anything you want from the world at his hands. 

The only thing that would make it better is if he got another night with you, but he knows that’s not possible. You were only at that party to visit a friend, apparently. And whenever he asked you where you were from you easily told him some city across the country. He isn’t sure if he’s lucky or not, but at least he got one chance with you.

You have a new message.

Eyes slightly fuzzy from the... cloud nine events, Kenma blinks a few times while staring at the tangelo envelope notification on his screen. He knows what he’s looking at, but he isn’t sure if he’s seeing the right thing. Curious, he clicks the icon.

yourdiyosa: hey i saw you were in my show again tonight. thank you so much for coming by regularly and spoiling me. was wondering if there was anything you wanted me to buy for the next show? xx

No... This isn’t happening. His heart nearly leaps onto his keyboard when he sees your message. Poor guy, he can feel himself getting turned on just at the thought of you buying whatever he wants you to wear or play with in the next broadcast. 

His fingers fly across the keyboard without him having to think about it.

kk9kk5: hi. i think you should get something red. maybe... this?

Before pressing send, he opens a private window on his other monitor and hurriedly types away in multiple tabs for the products he wants. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting, after all. Once he’s got it he sends it all at once, the chat bubble reflecting in his eyes with a glimmer of hope that you’ll agree. A few of the items overlapped with your wishlist but most were things that he had saved to memory. He’s thought about this before.

yourdiyosa: ooo okay! i have enough for all of that but i definitely can’t wear it all at once lol. anything in particular you want for tomorrow night?

God, he wants to see you in everything and nothing at all, though...

kk9kk5: the ruby collar and the black cat set please

yourdiyosa: haha you don’t have to be polite y’know. but you got it, Master ♡ xx can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

Master. Kenma gulps. He doesn’t need to imagine you saying that in person. He does not need to imagi-

Dammit...

With a sigh, he pulls up the screen recording he took of one of your previous shows, hoping it’ll hold him off until tomorrow.

And it does. Miraculously. 

He patiently waits for the next orange notification over the little exclamation mark icon at 10PM. Seconds go by past the mark and he wonders if maybe you were running late... Usually, she’s on schedule, though...

He worries now. Were you hurt? Did something happen to you? Did you have a bad day? He knows he shouldn’t care for you personally but he can’t help it — he felt something for you that was more than just a physical connection. The chemistry was important for sure but with you, he felt... comfortable. The two of you spent the morning after that fateful night with french toast and orange slice smiles. The mid-morning sunshine kissed your skin through the hotel window while you kissed him through room service whipped cream. He didn’t feel forced to come out of his shell with you or to be someone else. It was a lot like the cam shows — he could be himself and not worry about anything.

But now he worries. He doesn’t want something bad to happen to you.

Finally, the little exclamation mark burns orange in his irises and he clicked it at lightning speed. What he sees, though, isn’t the notification he wanted to see. 

New board post from yourdiyosa:

hey guys! something came up tonight so i can’t go live. i’m so sorry but i promise i’ll make it up to you xx you can leave your wishes for me in dms and i’ll go through them before my next show, alright? xx

Kenma sighs, still feeling slightly unsettled. If anything, he’s glad you were okay enough to let him know but... 

He spends that night pondering, much different than his usual activities. 

And then the week progressed. He went to classes, got pestered by his best friends, went to intramural volleyball practice. 

Classes, jokes, practice.

Classes, pranks, gaming.

Classes, nap, gaming.

Classes, annoyed by Kuroo, practice, gaming.

His routine went on and he hoped it was the same for you no matter what happened. He felt stupid thinking about you so much — he even wanted to message you — but he couldn’t help it. You were the only person to make him feel like this. He’s incredibly unsure about how to properly channel his feelings and there’s no beginners tutorial like all the previous games he’s played.

But when the time comes for next Friday, he’s already rushing back from his night class and leaving Kuroo in the dust. “Oi, you’re not coming to the party again? That girl might-”

“Bye, Kuroo.”

“Tch... One day I’ll get him...”

If that day ever comes, where you’re at another college party, Kenma will probably kiss Kuroo’s bare feet. But for now, he’s got his headphones on and he’s logging out of his own stream and staring at the familiar screen where you’ll soon begin yours. 

C’mon... Please be online... Please be okay...

His horrible posture is leaning forward into the monitor with every second again, almost as if he could climb in and start your show himself. With enough time he sees the little green dot appear by your profile picture when it’s nearly 10PM. He never thought he would be so happy to see that tiny little circle.

Thank goodness... But...

Moments go by, 10PM passes and you haven’t started your show. Clearly, he’s about to go through the same situation as last week — he can tell. Something in him just feels like tonight is going to throw a wrench in his plans. 

A wrench is definitely thrown.

If the wrench could be considered another orange notification on the envelope icon, that is.

yourdiyosa: hey click this for me xx www.yourdiosa.pstream.cum

Kenma stares at his screen with a mix of confusion and skepticism. At least when he’s home alone like this he can openly emote without causing a commotion to those around him. But right now his mind is a stormy commotion on its own. A virus?

He knows better than to click on that.

kk9kk5: what is it?

...

The amount of time it takes for you to type out a response at least lets him know that there is another person on the other side and not a bot.

yourdiyosa: my new stream. i promise you it’s not a hack or anything like that! 

He wants to believe you... Should he? Well... I can always clean up after if this is fake.

You’ve never messaged him a link before and he’s smart enough to avoid viruses. But when it comes to you — to whatever the hell these feelings are — he can’t exactly call himself a genius.

He clicks the link.

“Oh, yay, you’re here!”

Oh... oh. Kenma’s mouth falls open and eyes round out as he finds himself really wishing he could climb through the screen. There you are, the black cat ears clipped in your hair, and the cat-tail butt plug fully presented to him as you kneel on all fours and peer over your shoulder. He can’t tell what lingerie set you’re wearing but from the color of the intricate lace, he almost wants to say it’s the set he picked out last week.

“Thanks so much for trusting me, Master. I was wanting to do something special just for you but I wanted it to be a surprise. I’m almost shocked you clicked it but you really must like me, huh?” you tease, swaying your back end just enough for the tail to sway right behind you.

Kenma’s never been into the whole Master-Pet power dynamic but it was something you always did for shows he viewed. His mouth is dry but his body is on autopilot. He gets comfortable while he vigorously types a response in the private chat bar. 

kk9kk5: i didn’t think you’d actually think of something like this...

“Hm?” You turn around and sit on your calves now, reading the comment under your breath before giggling in a tone that reminds him of some unholier thoughts. “Why not? I do think it was pretty clever, though. Hope you don’t mind me keeping you on your toes like that.”

Kenma licks his suddenly dry lips and gulps. For once his hands are trembling. When was the last time that happened? Getting nervous behind a computer? Or... is it excitement? He can’t really tell but he taps away at the keys as fast as possible with a bit more force than usual to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

kk9kk5: i don’t mind

kk9kk5: you look really good... i like it a lot on you

He can confirm now that the dark red lingerie is definitely the one he picked out for you. And while it resembles your usual style for shows, he’s still filled with a little bit of pride just knowing that you put it on just for him. It’s different when you wear or use gifts during public shows... And the cat accents...

“I’m glad! But enough of that. I wanted to play a game with you, Master. Is that okay?”

Eyes locked on yours and the mischief they hold, Kenma types a reply with his mind reeling at the possibilities.

kk9kk5: what game?

“Just one I made up. I added a bot extension in the chat that lets you control the vibrator over here.” You pick up the vibrator beside you that he hadn’t noticed before. “But that’s only part of it. I wanted you to control me for a whole day. Sorta like the Sims but real life. You can message me anything you want me to wear or do or say to other people. Give me missions or something and I’ll do it all just for you with whatever toys up my cunt that you want. Does that sound okay, Master?”

Kenma’s heart freezes. A real-life game with sexual purposes? He’s a pro gamer for a reason.

kk9kk5: let’s do it. do i have to pay for anything first?

“Nope! You’re my second highest paying viewer and I like taking orders from you. So this is kinda a bit self-indulgent,” you giggle out innocently. The sound rings in his headphones despite the fact that you’ve brought the Hitachi wand to your mouth for a few teasing licks.

He can’t complain about that. 

kk9kk5: okay. get on all fours and strap the wand to you.

A cat-like grin pulls at your glossy lips when the message reflects in your eyes. Not a moment later, you get into position and follow the demand easily — it’s something you’ve done before countless times, after all.

“I’m ready, Master!” you sing out, heart buzzing in excitement.

Kenma’s eyes move from the chat bar to the little wand icon in the corner of your screen. Upon hovering over it, a purple switch and sliding meter come up. A small smile even plays at his lips when he right-clicks the switch and hears the familiar vibrating along with your excited gasp.

“That feels good, Master,” you moan, swaying your hips. The rhythm is jolted when Kenma drags the slider to the right slowly. 

He watches how you twitch under his silent command, the intensity of the vibrations building up gradually without stopping. Just hearing the little gasps and moans again has him fully hard and probably leaking precum into his underwear. Not that he cares — he loves watching you like this. This was something the couldn’t bring himself to do that night you two had together even if he wanted to. Amazingly enough, your moans are just the same and that drives him fucking crazy.

“Master,” you drawl out, moving your sleek tail to the side to he can get the perfect view of his work. The dark red lace is much darker now thanks to your arousal seeping through. It’s always been a favorite thing of his — seeing how much of an effect he has on you. You know that much about him.

You drop your upper half down with a cry when Kenma abruptly drags the slider all the wave over to the right. You can tell he liked the little show you were putting on for him a lot.

While you moan and whimper the title out for him, Kenma finally lets himself free of his bottoms with a quiet sigh. His left hand grips his fully hard dick and his right slides the little circle from left to right. It’s quite like a game now: the more right he goes, the louder you get. The more left he goes, the more you rock and sway, begging like you’re addicted to the sensations he controls. 

Games won’t be quite the same for him after this.

His lips part while he drags his hand up and down his length, leaving the slider alone so he can type a message with his free hand.

kk9kk5: move your panties to the side

He can hear the receiving ding! just barely come through your speakers, but you don’t turn around to see his comment. That almost makes it better for him. He loves to see you writhe like this more than anything.

“Mmm Master, can you turn on your mic? I want to hear you control me,” you whine. A groan of his own quietly slips out of his throat when he sees you tug at your tail with a desperate squeak.

He wants to turn his mic on, yes... It would make things a lot easier. 

But then you’d possibly recognize his voice. He’s not the most memorable person, but part of him hopes you’d remember him enough, all things considered.

kk9kk5: i can’t

kk9kk5: sorry. maybe another time. 

kk9kk5: it’s hot. you get off to my orders without knowing anything about me. you really are a naughty kitten for me

At the triple notification, you finally give in and turn around with your insides still clenching and gushing through your panties. Even though it’s just a toy, you look so fucked out from the stimulation and Kenma loves it. He wants to figure out everything that sends you over the edge and reconfigure your senses to depend solely on his actions. He needs it. He has to test out every possibility and see the effect it has on you.

This is the perfect game for him and he can feel himself developing a steadfast addiction even though he just started.

You offer a devilish smile at his words, your cheeks still flushed from the constant vibrations against your sensitive core. “Mm, please, Master? I really want to hear you. I can’t cum unless you tell me to,” you moan out. You almost go to beg for more when the vibrator shoots up in intensity for a moment.

kk9kk5: i’ll think about it after you cum

Your mouth falls open from a mix of shock and ecstasy. Without him having to ask again, you turn around to your previous position and move the lacey panties to the side with your tail. Kenma’s sight seems like it focuses a little bit better with the new view, his left hand pumping his length faster now. He matches the pace you rock your hips at and swivels his wrist with the little rotations you make as well. Every small movement you make looks so good in his eyes — he wants to be inside you so bad at the same time that he just wants to sit back like this and watch for hours. 

Just remembering how you felt around him causes a moan to fall from his open mouth, his head dropping down just a little. His eyes never leave you nor the arousal glistening on the vibrator he’s controlling. Even as he drags the slider to the highest and lowest setting, back and forth, over and over at such a rapid pace you begin begging him to let you cum, he doesn’t look away. 

His own orgasm is right there and all it would take is just imagining you’re clenching around him or seeing your sinful, pink lips swallowing him whole again. But he still takes the time to type out a shaky comment.

kk9kk5: i want you to finger yourself when you cum

kk9kk5: don’t stop even if you can’t take anymore

You moan lewdly as the vibrations go down momentarily, probably a sign that you need to read his comments no matter how much you want to keep going until you gush all over the toy. When you glance back through teary eyes, though, you’re glad for the momentary reprieve in vibrations.

A dreamy smile glides across your face as you lean into the mattress, your ass front and center, right where Kenma wants them with your arms reaching back for your next motions. Keeping everything out of his view with one hand you pump two fingers into your cunt with a melody of exaggerated moans going through the microphone to his headphones. 

You imitate what you would want him to do to you, your hips rocking against the feverish motions of your fingers while the Hitachi wand abuses your clit exactly how Kenma wants it to. Your cries and pleas fill his ears while he quickly grabs tissues to pump around his dick, his own hand moving just fast enough until he’s squeezing load after load out of the head of his cock and into what he imagines is your walls. He watches — with wonder and lust in his eyes — as you come undone at the same time as him. Your voice reaches octaves he hadn’t heard before, your fingers overstimulating you through the orgasm just like he told you to. Just like any character in a game would, you do exactly what he commanded.

She’s so incredible... What am I doing in a call with someone like her? he thinks to himself, his mind stuck in that post-orgasm haze. It was probably the biggest orgasm he had, second to the numerous ones you milked out of him after that party. 

Unlike your previous shows where you quickly clean up after yourself with a generous amount of obscene licking to your cum-covered fingers, you linger on the mattress a bit longer, twitching in delight and overstimulation. The wand is still going, but Kenma was gracious enough to move it down to the lowest setting while he disposed of the tissues and retrieved his lungs from God. Even you have to catch your breath after that and this is only the beginning of your games with user kk9kk5.

“Master?” you call softly. You let out a breath you were holding when the vibrator finally turns off. “Was that-”

“That was good.”

You swivel around on your knees now, your eyes blinking away the fog and being replaced with electric curiosity. You practically slam your hand on the mouse to click on the ‘viewers’ tab and see that his blank profile photo no longer has the muted microphone icon on it.

You don’t know what takes you aback more — the fact that you’re finally hearing his voice, how gentle his voice is, or something else.

“You...”

You hear him laugh lightly, very lightly, at your dumbstruck expression. Considering how you were a puddle of melted Jell-O moments ago, he can’t help but be amused at how you switch from your camgirl persona to something a bit more realistic. Something he’s familiar with.

“Hi,” he greets simply.

You smile triumphantly. “Well, hi, Master. I really, really like hearing your voice.”

He feels his cheeks flush at the compliment, wondering if you mean it or not. He doesn’t even know how much he should really speak at this point. The less he says then the less you know. He likes what you two have. 

“Thanks.”

You pause, taking the strap for the wand off your body so you can get comfortable. And with a cute smirk that captures his heart, you play with the ear on top of your head while sitting before him idly. 

“Did you like the private show, Master?”

“Yeah, I did. A lot,” he admits, the last part much quieter but still audible. 

“Did you cum at the same time as your kitten?” you coo, mischief in your eyes.

There’s no response, but that’s an answer for you. You can tell he’s incredibly shy, but that doesn’t bother you. If anything, that’s more endearing to you. Some shy viewer that gets off on watching you perform lewd acts he demands? Some part of that makes you want to have this be a regular thing.

“Well, we’re just getting started so I think we’ll have lots of fun like this.” You talk to fill the silence, having no problem taking the lead of the conversation (like you did the other night too). “I’m actually going to be traveling tomorrow, so I really want you to press my buttons, y’know?”

You wink at him, flipping your hair over your shoulder and running your hand down your upper body for him. You hear a soft almost-moan come through your speakers, a grin spreading across your face once again. 

“Where are you traveling to?” He regrets asking once the words leave his mouth. Now he probably sounds like he’s trying to track you down and that’s not what he wants at all. Well, he wouldn’t mind seeing you, of course...

“Tokyo,” you answer simply. “I’ll catch a morning bullet train and be there by the afternoon. So during that whole time, you can have lots of fun with me. Would you like that, Master?”

“Yeah, you know that,” he says with a smile of his own. 

“Say... I know you haven’t used your mic before so... I was wondering if you know me personally? You sound familiar.”

“...No.”

“Oh... Okay.”

You shrugged it off and the night quickly came to a close when he said he had something else to do. You didn’t think anything of it — he’s yours during shows and vice versa if it’s a private show. Nothing more. By the off chance that he does know you in person, you don’t care one bit. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

Although, that would be the last time you audibly hear from kk9kk5 as kk9kk5.

“Kenma.” 

Kuroo starts the next day with his best friend trying to tune him out already. But as he continues, Kenma has never listened more intently. “I finally became the highest payer for this camgirl I like and she kinda looks like that girl from the party that you went home with. Want her username?”

Kenma knows he’s being teased, but his heart and stomach trade places anyway. “Why would I want that?”

It comes out a bit more defensive than he intended for it to, making Kuroo grin in satisfaction. 

“Oh ho ho, getting riled up already? I’ll text it to you. Oh, and I’m texting you the party details for tonight too. You’re coming out tonight again. No choice!”

Kenma sighs, shaking his head to dismiss his friend.

“I’m serious. I’ll abduct you myself if I have to... And can you get off your phone when I’m talking to you? You game enough as it is!”

“Are you my mom?” Kenma asks dully, his eyes still on his phone while he drags a circle around to different corners of the screen. The gradient display reflects in his eyes while something else resonates within him.

“I might as well be.”

“Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“If I agree to go to the party then will you leave me alone?”

“Yep!” That’s a mission accomplished for Kuroo, after all.

And just as promised, Kenma shows up to the party with a hoodie and a jean jacket, his sneakers meeting spilled alcohol and dirty floors of the packed college apartment. Meanwhile, Kuroo makes it his personal task to meet everyone there. No one was safe from his rambunctious extroversion, but that took the focus away from Kenma, at least. He could linger by the walls and stay in a corner far away to contemplate what you’re doing.

Well... he knows what you’re doing, but he wonders how you’re holding up. He tasked you with getting yourself off in public. Sometimes he assisted with the little wireless vibrator, but mostly he just wanted to know you were using your fingers in a public place and trying not to get caught. And, of course, he wanted pictures. 

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, catching his interest immediately despite the overly stimulating party. Not wanting anyone else to see his personal gift (especially not Kuroo), Kenma files out of the crowded area of the apartment. Somehow he’s pushed and pulled all which ways until he’s in someone’s bedroom, but he doesn’t mind. There are only a few people in there talking and minding their business anyway. 

This is safe enough for him that he opens the photo, but he won’t look yet. He holds his phone low and close to his chest while he retreats to the direction of the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He’s extra careful to not let anyone see his screen while he thinks about the photo you’ve sent him. He’s always careful when it comes to this private part of his life.

The phone is knocked out of his hand when he collides with a drunk girl speeding out of the bathroom, though. His worst nightmare.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” she says.

Not a drunk girl, not a drunk girl, not a drunk girl.

His dream come true.

When said drunk girl quickly picks up his phone and goes to hand it back to him, time freezes, and the sun moves in retrograde. 

The flushed cheeks could be mistaken for a less-than-sober glow or...

“Y/N...?” he asks lowly. 

Your eyes round out as you take in his features, instantly recognizing the black hair and outgrown bleached ends. Instantly remembering the way you melted under such intensely sharp eyes weeks ago. Instantly feeling your arousal skyrocket again despite just getting off for kk9kk5. 

“Oh! Kenma, right?” you cheerily respond, a casual façade and crescent eyes welcoming him further. “It’s good to see you! Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you drop... this...”

It was just for a moment, but you glanced at the screen. All you needed was a moment to recognize the photo you just took. 

Both of you fall silent, not exactly sure how to respond while Mercury crashlands into Mars. The rest of the planets fall out of the sky in a domino effect until they land in your laps in a big pile of fate.

“Oh... Aha, um...” For once you’re speechless, your face reddening even further from embarrassment and horniness. Which, honestly, embarrasses you further but you both know very well that’s something that you get off on.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he rushes the words out and you’re instantly nodding.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

{ kenma nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @blkjackals​ @xiorrawrites​ @hq-cuties​ @briswriting​ }

{ hq nsfw taglist — tell me if you want to be added or taken off: @yamxgucci​​ @for-ests​ @emrystld​ @vventure​ @leiasfanaccount648​ @marshyrebelcloud​ }

[spencers-renaissance]

Start With This

Summary: Luke accidentally hurts Spencer because they are both hopelessly stupid, but when Spencer's faced with a dangerous situation there's nothing he wants more than Luke. Calling him turns out to be a very good decision.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Making Up, Getting Together

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: implied/mentioned sexual assault, more detailed cw on the end notes of the AO3 post <3

Read on AO3

Luke knows he’s getting obvious. His subtlety has completely thrown itself out the window, his dignity’s in the wind, and he’s so, so painfully aware of it all. 

He was probably in love with Spencer before he even met the man: his reputation had preceded him -- as he’d told him that first day in the briefing room -- and the way his friends talked about him, the gentleness he seemed to possess along with the dynamite intelligence of a 187 IQ had his stomach fluttering as he walked in to meet him for the first time. And hadn’t that just sealed the deal. 

Spencer’s face as he walked into the room feels like it’s been permanently burned into the back of his eyelids ever since. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t someone so adorable. He’d been so open and welcoming and they’d hit it off straight away, every look shared between them, every joint task on the case in Arizona had him buzzing with excitement. If he could spend every waking moment with Spencer, he would. 

And he’s been so good at keeping it under wraps, but lately the looks the girls and Rossi have been sending his way are a bit too… knowing. Like they see right through him. It’s terrifying, really. He’s never had a bad coming out story, mostly because he didn’t until his late twenties when it was much less taboo to be gay and he was surrounded by people who cared far too much about him as a person to care about who he fucked. But he’s also never had a crush on a coworker before, not even a friend, so to be under so much scrutiny in a situation that feels so out of his depths is overwhelming to say the least.

The next case they take on, then, he takes extra caution to be subtle. He volunteers to pair up with others before Emily can assign him something with Spencer; he ignores the looks he directs his way and leaves him behind to room with JJ while he pairs up with Steven. Maybe it’s even more obvious, maybe the looks he’s getting now are far harder to deal with than the ones before but he’s made his bed. Now he’ll lie in it.

And he’ll pointedly refuse to acknowledge the hurt looks Spencer is shooting his way. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers now and get over his crush than ruin such a good friendship and drive a wedge through the team, even if his gut twists and his heart protests as Spencer furrows his brow and looks at his feet.

★

Spencer is fully aware that his chances with Luke are slim to none -- he’s not delusional -- but boy does it hurt being avoided like the plague. It takes him back to school, when he was either politely ignored, mocked from a distance or straight up bullied, when nobody could associate themselves with him without risking a beating of their own. 

As soon as the case is over, he declines Emily’s invitation to go for a drink at her place with the rest of the team, instead opting to go out by himself. There’s a small, hole-in-the-wall joint a few blocks from his apartment that he’s been to a few times; it’s low-key and reasonably quiet, and the food is nice, too. It’ll do him good, he thinks, to get out of his head a bit with a few drinks and a book or three. He’s met the guy who owns the place a few times, and no-one pays enough attention to care that he’s reading a book at a bar instead of solemnly staring into a pint or gyrating on the dance floor, neither of which especially appeal to him.

As predicted, the bar is quiet, so he orders a drink and some nachos and heads to a table in the back. He used to hate bars; so full of people and germs he tended to avoid them at all costs. Now though, he finds the background noise soothing, the chatter and music a comforting backdrop to his own isolation. And on days like today, after difficult cases and tricky emotional minefields to navigate, it’s the perfect setting to sit quietly and read, far more preferable than the deafening silence of his apartment. 

For some reason, though, he simply cannot get his mind off Luke. He was so hopelessly gone for him and it was making everyday tasks that much harder. Even psyching himself up to get out of bed and go to work was proving more and more difficult: knowing he would have to face the man he loved so much who clearly did not love him back was bordering on psychological torture at this point. 

His one saving grace, though, was that he’d always been able to take refuge in the fact that they were friends. That even if he could never have Luke kiss him or take him on a date or sleep in his bed, he could have his friendship. He’d have the warm smiles and hugs and inside jokes and that would be enough. But now even that was seeming like a farflung pipe dream. Had he figured him out? Did he realise Spencer’s feelings for him and feel disgusted? Violated even? 

It’s only after Spencer’s been reading the same page over and over for nearly 10 minutes that he gives up and orders another drink. If he can’t distract himself, he may as well drown his sorrows now he’s here. 

And drown them he does. He finally stumbles onto the pavement outside the bar in the small hours of the morning feeling a little dazed and confused, and he squints his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. He lives round here, he knows that much, but where? He’s looking around for a taxi when a man he’d seen sitting not far from him in the bar approaches him. 

“Hey, baby,” he grins, checking Spencer out as obviously as he’d been doing inside.

It takes Spencer’s mind only a few seconds to recognise that he’s in a potentially vulnerable or dangerous situation but he can’t for the life of him sort through his muddled brain fast enough to figure out the correct response, here. Instead he stares dumbly at the man in front of him, trying to not look as scared as he feels. 

“You looking for a good time?” the man asks, reaching a hand forward to pet crudely at his face. Spencer wishes his flinch wasn’t so obviously borne from terror, but he’s sad and drunk and confused so all he can do is shake his head aggressively and back away. “Aww, come on. I’m a catch, I promise.”

Spencer jumps back further, his back hitting a brick wall as he finally finds his voice. “No, leave me alone, thank you,” he says, trying to sound firm but only sounding scared shitless. The man is huge, Spencer is not, and the street is quiet. Spencer does not like any of these variables, let alone a cocktail made from them. 

The man laughs cruelly, but before he gets a chance to respond another beefy guy he recognises from inside the bar comes over, cigarette in his hand, and clocks the situation. “Oi,” he shouts aggressively, approaching the two of them. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Dude said no.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Spencer can blink, the beefy guy punches his assailant square in the eye, causing him to cuss them both out before telling Spencer he isn’t even worth the trouble and leaving to lick his wounds. “Hey, you okay?” the beefy dude asks, voice much softer when talking to Spencer. “You need me to call someone?”

At this moment, the only person Spencer wants is Luke. He’s shaken up and so sad, and even if Luke is sort of the reason for that, he has to try, right? Maybe… maybe he just was having a bad day and it isn’t Spencer at all. He could call JJ but even her cuddles wouldn’t scratch the itch that’s burning away at his skin, so he finally shakes his head at the guy looking at him with concern. “No, no it’s okay,” he says slowly, voice catching a little. “I know who to call.”

★

Luke also says no to Emily’s invitation, instead heading back to his own place and cracking open a bottle of wine before plonking himself in front of the team and appreciating the cuddles Roxy chooses to bestow on him. He throws in an oven pizza sometime around 11pm and eats it, laughing humourlessly at the scene for a moment. God, if his colleagues could see just how pathetic he is Emily would have to boot him off the team. 

The wine and the warm temperature of the room have him dozing off on the sofa by midnight but he’s woken up abruptly by his phone ringing not long after. The clock on the wall says 1.50am so this is either a case or an emergency; blearily he picks it up to see Spencer’s name on the screen and he can’t slide his finger to answer it fast enough. 

“Spencer?” he asks, voice full of concern. 

The only reply is a choked off sob, making Luke sit up on high alert. “Spence, what’s wrong?” his voice is gentle but determined, he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it damnit.

“Can you-- Can you come and get me?” Spencer asks tearfully. He sounds hesitant like he thinks Luke might say no or be angry with him which doesn’t make any sense. He’d never feel like that, not for anything Spencer needs from him. 

“Of course,” he reassures him, gently, still a little bewildered by the absurdity of it all. He springs into action and leaps off the sofa, slipping into some trainers and grabbing his keys. “Where are you, Spence? I’m on my way to the car.”

Spencer rattles off an address before he says, “Wait, don’t go, can you stay on the phone with me?”

Luke’s heart damn near melts at that but he obeys and stays on the phone with him, mumbling platitudes and promising he’s on his way the whole five minute drive until he pulls up in front of the address Spencer gave him, immediately spotting the younger man hunched down against a wall. He parks the car quickly and rushes over, crouching down in front of Spencer and gently pulling his head away from his knees so he can look into his eyes. He immediately recognises he’s drunk and sighs internally, hoping this won’t be too impossible. 

“Hey, Spence, what’s going on?” he asks earnestly, holding onto the man’s forearms partially to help steady himself and partially to offer a noninvasive point of contact for Spencer. 

“Sad,” Spencer says, looking into Luke’s eyes with wide, honest eyes. “You’re angry at me.”

“What?” Luke asks incredulously. “I’m not angry at you, Spencer.”

“Yes,” Spencer nods enthusiastically. “You wanted to work with other people on the case today. You were ignoring me.”

He’s not quite slurring his words but it’s close, and if Luke wasn’t so concerned about the situation at hand he’d find it adorable. “Oh, Spencer, no,” he protests, a sinking feeling in his chest. His own insecurities and fears had got the better of him and he’d managed to make Spencer feel bad about himself. “That was unrelated and not your fault at all, okay? It’s complicated and definitely not a conversation to have on the ground outside a bar at 2am, but we can talk about it somewhere else if you’d like. Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

Spencer looks back at him. “No, don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me on my own, Luke,” he says, eyes wide in fear this time, not honesty. 

“Okay, okay,” he placates him. “Would you like to come back to mine?”

Spencer launches forward to hug Luke, burying his face into his neck and Luke takes the opportunity to relish the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body against his own, the intimacy he craves so deeply finally being awarded in a small way. “Should I take that as a yes?” he chuckles.

As soon as they get into Luke’s apartment, he gets to sobering Spencer up. He’d managed to pry the number of drinks he’d had out of him in the car, and as soon as they get back he butters him some toast and gives him a glass of water to drink on the sofa while he fills up another glass and grabs some advil. 

“How’s that, Spence, are you okay?” he asks softly as he joins him on the sofa where Spencer is dutifully munching down the toast while late-night TV plays in the background. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, smiling up at Luke, already looking more lucid than he did on the street, though he suspects part of the reason was he was scared and a bit disoriented then and now feels safe. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Spencer,” he smiles back, patting his knee affectionately as he pours him another glass of water. “Have your toast and another glass of water and then you can have a shower, if you like. It’ll help ground you and warm you up a bit.”

Spencer’s compliant through it all, which is obviously desirable, but he’s also quiet. He takes the hoodie Luke chucks his way without comment and slips it on -- Luke very pointedly does not think about how good he looks -- before looking to him for his next direction. 

His eyes are much clearer now and he seems far more sad than drunk, so Luke steers him back to the sofa and hands him a blanket. “Hey, Spencer,” he says, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to pick you up?”

Spencer fidgets with the blanket as he answers. “Well, I went to the bar to stop thinking, like distract myself, but it didn’t really work so I just decided to have some wine instead, which was really nice and I liked the fuzziness, but then when I left there was this man. He came up to me and was trying to… like he was trying to ask me to sleep with him,” he risks a quick look up to check if Luke is listening to him but averts his eyes from the intense stare when he realises he is. “But I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do and I panicked but then this man came out of the bar and he punched the other guy and helped me but then I called you so he didn’t have to do anything else.” His voice is nervous as he talks, clearly unsure of himself from the way he darts around from point to point, his typical eloquence evading him. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Luke says, earnestly. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m even more sorry that you were sad enough to drown your sorrowsbecause of me. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk about this and I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you should sleep. You can take my bed or the sofa tonight, whichever one makes you feel more comfortable, and then I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast in the morning and we can chat. How does that sound?”

Spencer looks satisfied for now, cocking his head to the side. “Hm, can I have pancakes?” he asks.

Luke laughs fondly at that, leaning forward to ruffle Spencer’s hair lightly as he tries not to read into it when Spencer leans into his touch. “Are you kidding?” he teases. “You’re looking at the pancake maker extraordinaire right here.” He relishes Spencer’s giggle at that, pleased at how relaxed he looks now he knows Luke isn’t angry at him. “Pancakes in the morning. For now, where would you like to sleep?”

“The sofa’s fine,” Spencer says softly, a small smile playing over his face as he follows Luke with his eyes as he stands up to collect some blankets and pillows. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles back, and hands him the extra blankets and cushions. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

★

Spencer wakes up to the sound of dog paws on wooden floors and is momentarily confused -- he does not have a dog nor wooden floors -- before the events of last night flood into his head with a crashing wave of humiliation. He sits up abruptly, blinking his eyes against the soft grey light of the gloomy day, and looks around until he meets Luke’s eyes where he’s sat drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table. 

He knows he’s flushing an embarrassing shade of red but he can’t help it, this whole situation is so bizarre. “Good morning,” he finally says.

“Morning Spencer,” Luke says, hiding his far-too-wide smile behind his coffee mug. “Did you sleep okay?”

He just nods and hums in response, before excusing himself and rushing to the bathroom for a small semblance of privacy. Looking in the mirror, he splashes his face with some cold water and fiddles with his hair until it’s sat the way he wants it to before taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt at composure. He’s sort of in love with Luke, being in his apartment like this is mildly intoxicating. 

Eventually, he surfaces back in the main living area where Luke’s already started on the pancakes. “Hey, you good?” he calls over his shoulder as he flips the pan, a delish smell intoxicating the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Spencer confirms, joining him in the kitchen for a front row seat of Luke cooking. Chatting menially together as the pancake stash slowly builds, Spencer gathers all the toppings at Luke’s direction before they move to sit at the table and start tucking in, both trying to ignore the rising tension at what they both know is coming.

“You’re being so nice to me now but all throughout the case you barely looked at me, I mean you couldn’t even share a room with me in the hotel,” Spencer says after a few moments of silent apprehension as they have their first bites. “Is it… is it because I’m gay?” His voice drops to a whisper, face contorting from confusion to apprehension, feeling a little nervous that Luke might get angry now he’s reminded him of it.

“What, no, Spencer, of course not,” Luke says defensively. “God, I’m not a homophobe. The exact opposite, actually. I’m gay, too.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Luke puts his knife and fork down and runs a hand over his face as he psychs himself up. “That’s the problem. The truth is, I’m into you, Spencer, very much so. And I’m fully aware that you’re my best friend and you won’t feel the same way, so… that’s a problem. The others were starting to realise so I distanced myself, but it has nothing to do with you, it’s all me so please don’t blame yourself, alright?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to explain why I acted like that.” Luke apologises, sitting forward again. “I know this is probably making you uncomfortable, I can drop you back or call you a cab or something--”

“No,” Spencer says suddenly, snapping back into action as the information finally processes. Leaving right now is the last thing he wants. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just caught off guard. You… like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke smiles, a little awkwardly. “If you want to put it like that.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment as everything finally clicks into place. “We are both very stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the primary reason I was sad and drinking at a bar alone last night was because I am very much in love with you and feared you were pushing me away. That I’d lost my chance forever,” Spencer explains. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I didn’t know how to deal with it and when you started acting distant I did the same and… ran away, I guess.”

Luke’s glad that Spencer’s eyes are clear this morning and his eloquence is back or he’d fear he’s still somehow drunk out of his mind still and has no idea what he’s saying. “Oh.” It’s his turn to blank on a response. 

“To be honest, Luke, I don’t know where to go from here,” Spencer laughs, a little awkwardly.

“Let’s start with this,” Luke says, getting up from his seat across the table and sliding into the chair next to Spencer, bridging the gap between the two before he kisses him gently. Spencer’s hand reaches forward to grip the front of his shirt, kissing back with just as much trusting desire as he feels Luke smile against his lips. They part at the kiss’ natural conclusion, pulling back to look at each other, tense awkwardness replaced with a new understanding of one another. 

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles. “That feels like a good start.”

It’s a good start, but it’s by no means the end. The heaviness that had weighed between them for so long finally lifts and the lightness that replaces it means they both breathe easier, finishing their pancakes in between shy, cautious looks and shameless giggles. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” Luke asks as he washes their plates up, Spencer perched on the kitchen counter next to him. 

“Nope,” Spencer says, smiling at the implication of such an answer. 

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” he asks, wearing far too cheeky of a grin for Spencer to avoid leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips. 

“Hm,” Spencer ponders, looking out the window at the rainy day. “I think movies and snacks would be perfect if I have you as company.”

“You smooth little thing,” Luke teases, poking Spencer’s side with a wet finger and delighting in the giggle that escaped his lips. “That sounds perfect to me.” He washes the frying pan last and quickly wipes down the kitchen before they head to the sofa, arms piled high with all the crisps, chocolate and cookies they can find in his cupboards. Spencer also digs about in the freezer and finds a pint of ice cream to share, which they feed each other bites of later in a sickeningly sweet, cliched moment of tenderness.

Luke chooses the first movie, picking out a Marvel film that Spencer ends up actually enjoying, though Luke can’t exactly say the same about Spencer’s choice, an obscure period piece from the 1960s. Still, he cuddles him close and pays attention to every minute. If it matters to Spencer, it matters to him. 

And if wasting the day away with movies, snacks, and heart to hearts turns out to be exhausting enough that Spencer just has to stay the night again, this time sharing Luke’s bed with him and Roxy, then they’ll just have to make the absolute most out of such a terribly inconvenient situation. And they’ll deal with how to hide a 2 night love-fest from a team of profilers in the morning, because they’re far too oblivious to realise they already know.

Tags: @johanna-swann @pretty-b0yy 

[soradragon]

Prank full of love

Dwalin here! Woooo!! changed my style a bit to fit with the type of genre this is, this is a comedy x reader fic. I’m very proud.

Also, thank you my sweet @deepestfirefun​ for helping me out! And Thank you my beta reader for helping me out! I love you!

Warnings: cursing, shirtless dwarf (wink wonk) and fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Dwalin x F! reader,  mentions of bagginshield

Check out my main masterlist if you liked what you read and wanna read more!

If you want to be tagged in the upcoming fics don’t be afraid to ask me! ^^

Please, if you liked the story leave a little comment to let me know you liked it!

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~~~

"You..!"

A deep, threatening and rough voice bounced against the walls of the passages. 

Not much further ahead was a woman, pushing a man of what looked like a high status to the side. She was running like a madwoman, fleeing from what people would think; the devil. 

That woman is you. Yes you; surprising, isn't it? 

What did you do to get yourself ending up in this peculiar predicament, you probably wonder?

Well then, no need to look further nor to scroll down to nitpick every sentence in this story to make even the slightest sense of what's going on in this world of chaos. It shall all be explained right here and now! 

If you didn't care nor wonder what, how, and why this all happened, then too bad! You have no power over this story! Haha, take that!

Ahem, anyway...It all happened at a feast around midnight before all this chaos came to be.

*(*)*(*)*

Fili and Kili dragged you with them. The blonde prince led the way as the younger brother pulled you with them.

They had been spouting stuff about "the greatest idea ever." and "going in the history books for being the legendary mischief-makers." Or something like that. You didn't really listen, like at all, only perking up and paying a biiit more attention when they mentioned 'you' and 'food.'

Were you getting an all-you-can-eat-buffet?

Aww, such sweethearts! They shouldn't have.

Weelll, you did deserve it, after all. Going along on this journey and defeating a dragon is not an easy feat. They should make you an entire statue while they're at it! 

Yes, one right next to the entrance so all visitors and passers-by could see you and know of your magnificent and heroic deeds.

You mentally patted yourself on the back. The look on your face was a mix of smugness and pride.

But you were forgetting one small itty bitty detail (or two) in your only sliiightly intoxicated state:

You weren't the sole hero who slew the dragon. You already got your fair share of the reward: a high status in the kingdom - a place in the High Court of the company who went on that dragon-slaying quest - and a luxurious comfy home included. And not to forget the gold you were promised. Thorin also offered work in a high place in the kingdom like a royal scholar or something, but you gracefully declined. You liked working in the toy shop with Bofur and Bifur - so...no statue for you.

But you didn't remember that.

You snapped out of your daydreams when Fili softly helped you to sit down on your bed. 

How did you get here in the first place?

"Are you alright Y/N?"

Fili or Kili, you don't know which one as they looked the same to you at the moment, wiggling in front of you with their two clones.

When did they become a quadruplet?

"Y/N?"

Oh yeah, you still needed to answer them. 

"...'M fiiinee."

You managed to slur out with difficulty, sleepiness slowly taking over. The brain cells were already going to bed, leaving behind a heavily drunken brain to operate the whole system.

What could go wrong, am I right?

...A lot.

*(*)*(*)*

"Ugh, stupid hangover..."

You moaned, resting your chin on the edge of the bucket pathetically.

You felt like you died and came back to life again, moaning over a bucket you desperately tried not to look into, for you knew the meal you had yesterday would not be a pretty sight.

At least you could tell what was up and down...yay for you...

You didn’t forget that you had somehow convinced Fili and Kili you were really fine and totally not wasted. How was beyond you, and you were not in the mood to figure it out.

Maybe they were also drunk or just took advantage of your pickled state. Yeah, they would do that to guilt-trip you into going along with their prank. They knew you never break a promise, even if you made it in your totally half-sober state. They were too cunning for their own and others’ - mostly others’ - good.

Anyway, somehow (not surprisingly) without knowing what you were getting into, you had nodded along with everything they had said. 

You vaguely remember Kili or Fili tucking you in and saying goodnight. 

Note to self: Never try to win against Bofur - or any dwarf for that matter - in a drinking match ever again.

You chastised yourself while staggering towards your wardrobe.  How late would Fili or Kili pick you up to set his prank in motion? You didn’t even care which one it was - you hated them both at the moment...Okay, who are you kidding; you would do the same thing again in a heartbeat for either of them. And of course, they would give poor little you the hardest and most dangerous job to fulfil... Great. Just peachy.

Sigh.

Let's get this whole shenanigan over with, dammit. They’d better sing tales and praises about you once this is over. 

Not long after you put some clothes on, The two brothers barged into your chamber, loud and boisterous as ever. How they both could be so lively in the morning (with probably a hangover too) was beyond you.

"...Stupid dwarf genes..."

You mumbled to yourself as you let the two princes drag you to the training hall with their arms hooked around yours on either side. 

You felt dread pool inside your stomach as you got closer to the training hall. 

Now, normally you loved the training hall. After all, it was the front row seat to a heavenly sight of young warriors and their amazing muscles being put to use in a workout. Not to forget there was one dwarf in particular who you just loved to watch while he flexed his muscles by throwing other dwarves around.

But right now, you feared it with a burning passion, for that place was undoubtedly the place where you would meet your inevitable doom.

"Don't worry dear Y/N, it's gonna be fun!"

Kili spoke up happily, seeming to notice your unease Oh, how you would love to give him the big finger. But knowing Kili, he would drop you for the fun of it and make a whole drama show out of it, gasping and acting like a stereotypical blonde rich girl, one who just overheard the most scandalous gossip about herself. You cursed yourself for showing Kili how to be a true drama queen. (Prince, in his case, but you get the point.) The traitor uses all those tricks against you every chance he gets. You could just kick yourself for being so stupid to show him the ropes. What's worse is that if you would put Kili in a dress he would be the definition of a diva! How he does it? 

No one knows!

Why couldn't you just say no and walk away?

"Because you're too nice to leave your favourite dwarves hanging, Y/N. You promised you would help." Kili said. Technically, your autopilot did, not you. Unfortunately for you, Kili was right. You wouldn't leave him hanging. 

You glared at Kili and the stupid cheeky grin he gave you. You would have rolled your eyes at him if that wouldn't hurt as much as it did, so you decided to roll your eyes mentally instead.

Wait...did you just say that out loud?

"Yes, yes you did."

"Fu-"

*(*)*(*)*

After what seemed like ages Fili and Kili had finally managed to drag your miserable self to the big wooden doors of the training hall. You had given up the struggle after the longest ten minutes of your life, deciding to formulate a master escape plan before you would reach the training halls. Unfortunately for you, it was too late. You threw your carefully thought-out plan down the drain when Kili accidentally slammed the door against the wall too loud when he kicked it open with his boot.

Still having his arm looped around your's, mind you.

Everyone and everything quieted down for just a moment. Heads turned towards the entrance where they were all, no doubt about it, greeted with a comical sight. 

Fili and Kili, obnoxious as always and wicked smiles on their faces (and everyone who even remotely knew the young princes, grasped that the two were up to no good.) 

dragged a very anxious looking you with them. One would guess you were about to be sacrificed as a dragon's dinner.  Which you were, in your opinion.

"Come on Y/N,  time to teach you how to disarm opponents," Fili said, leading the way to a part of the area where a couple of young dwarves were thrown on the ground by one dwarf in particular, one you came to recognise as the hottest and grumpiest dwarf in all of Grump Town. And oh boy, you were not ready to get destroyed by him, and you showed it, too, pulling and protesting and cursing at everything that lived.

How you wished you could tell people that you managed to free yourself from the boy's grasp and run for the hills. 

Sadly, that wish didn't come true; God hated you or something, for Fili and Kili  - those little rascals - managed to push you right into Dwalin. 

You didn't know if Dwalin catching you was a blessing or a curse. What you did know, however, was that you most definitely were blushing, if your burning cheeks were anything to go off of.

Dwalin was shirtless... His strong, hairy arms encircled your waist delicately, and you were practically pressed against his chest...

Against his strong, warm and bushy dwarven chest.

The scent of sweat, smoke and a vague hint of cookie dough entered your nose, and it strangely made you feel at home.

You were a goner, yep completely gone, nobody's home. Come back later or leave a message after the beep for Y/N dot exe has stopped working and took a vacation to cloud nine.

Sadly, your cloud nine had been sucked away too quickly by the dwarf himself who put you there in the first place. 

Dwalin, being the grump that he is, grunted at you and pushed you back on your feet as if you had burned him! 

"Rude much," you grumbled once you managed to keep your balance, dusting yourself off.

Dwalin (the ass) only grunted in return. Him and his damn grunts. 

You ain't special enough for him to form a full sentence for you, now?

Fine, if he was gonna play it that way then, you were gonna give it to him back tenfold.

Screw consequences, the dick deserved this. You were gonna go all out. 

You turned around and stuck your tongue out like a real child woman.

Fili and Kili started to giggle behind you, getting quiet real quick when they saw Dwalin glaring daggers at them. 

You marched towards the two princes, whispering four words as you moved past them. 

"Let's do this shit." 

The boys definitely heard you, for their grins turned wicked. 

One glance and you knew what was about to come. If being the two princes’ guinea pig for pranks with poor Bilbo the entire journey taught you anything, it would be to recognize the twinkle in their eyes. 

It spoke in volumes louder than any dragon could roar; chaos was about to unfold, both in their brains (as they looked each other in the eye) and soon, in reality. You looked slightly over your shoulder. 

Yeah, they were scheming alright, communicating with that brotherly bond they share or something. 

Watch out Dwalin:

This. Is. War.

*(*)*(*)*

ShitshitshitshitSHIT!

Oh, how you came to regret tripping Dwalin up. In your defence, it wasn't your fault that he couldn't take his dark eyes off of you when you pulled your shirt off because the heat was getting too hot to handle. 

Wink wonk.

Hey, at least you wore a white undershirt. One which clung to your breasts tightly. Yeah, that'll give him something to look at.

Anyway! 

It wasn't your fault, either, when Dwalin marched towards you with purpose in his steps when you bent over to grab a dagger off the ground, showing him your assets in the process.

It was his fault, really! He should've noticed that Fili and Kili were waiting for him to stand on the grey X. And now you were running for your life with a very, very angry dwarf (who was covered in white glue and colourful feathers) on your heels. Thanks for everything, Kili. Thanks for shrieking out, "Y/N planned it!" The moment Dwalin glared at them...

The snitch.

You pushed dwarves to the side as you ran for your life, screaming sorry as you went, because you are a polite gentlelady. Dwarves watched you go with wide eyes, confused as heck as Dwalin stormed past them not long after.

Most of the time, you were glad they made the hallways mainly one straight line, but now? You cursed its existence and its creator.

There was unquestionably no doubt about it that Dwalin would catch up. Curse you and your hate of exercise.

You should have taken Gloin's offer of jogging with him when you had the chance, but Bombur's pastries were too tempting to pass up on at the time.

And now here you were, fleeing like the devil was behind you, with burning lungs and protesting legs. You were afraid to glance back; you could almost feel your pursuer’s breath go down your neck. You silently prayed to all the deities above and beneath you to help you out, and it seemed one took pity on your little mortal soul. For the moment you finished your prayer, you were rewarded with two things: two dwarves carrying barrels, and a small corridor you almost missed if it hadn't been for someone came out of said corridor. 

You took the opportunity without hesitation and slammed against the two unexpecting dwarves, who dropped the barrels in surprise. You managed to slip past them before the barrels hit the ground - like freaking Indiana Jones - skidding through the corridor with a sharp turn. 

Without a second wasted, you pressed yourself against the wall like a ninja on a mission and held your breath. This was the moment of truth. There were two possibilities: either Dwalin wasn't fooled by the stunt, or he runs right by you. You prayed for the latter.

Lo and behold, for your prayers have been answered again! The deities really loved you at this moment, or just had lots of pity for you.

Dwalin ran past the corridor.

You let out the biggest sigh of relief in your life Patting yourself on the back, you turned around with a smile... Only to come face to face with the king of the mountain. The smug-ass had a knowing smirk on his face.

Shitpopcicles...

"Why are you so out of breath Y/N? You look as if a warg was on your heels." the smirk faltered as Thorin rubbed at his chin as if he were thinking. 

The grin returned tenfold. "Is a certain dwarf chasing you, perhaps...?" His voice was teasing; he dang well knew why.

Oh, how you wished you could smack that smirk off his face, but sadly that was not a good idea. The bugger knows about your crush on Dwalin and teases you often. 

He found out about it during the journey and he had always put you and Dwalin on watch together. 

He shipped it, you just knew he did.

You pointed a threatening finger towards him. "Watch out, boy." You were close enough to Thorin to be the only one allowed to do something like this.

"Or this little lady won't hesitate to tell the whole damn mountain and a certain someone that you have a crush on a certain hobbit."

His face stayed the same - stoic and not moving - but you saw it at his softly reddening cheeks that your suspicions had been right. You grinned victoriously at Thorin, who stood there without uttering a word. Serves him right! Now you had blackmail. Internally, you were cackling evilly.

Your body froze while Thorin opened his mouth to speak. You felt as if Hell had just frozen over for that's when you heard it:

"You...!"

It sounded like thunder rumbling. Deep, rough and threatening. You would have totally been turned on if you weren't scared for your life. 

Dwarfzilla was coming...

Without noticing it, you pushed Thorin to the side and ran like a madwoman. This is how it all happened. Now you're all caught up, so let's continue.

Fili and Kili had better sing tales about you after this.

You turned many corners and hallways, zooming past Dwarves who flushed themselves against the narrow walls in haste as you ran past them.

Some of them called out to you, but you couldn't hear what they said; Being chased doesn't really give you the time to stop and listen to what they had to say, now does it?

At one point, you began to notice the path becoming disproportionate and rough. Stones stuck out of the floor and walls. You tripped over a couple of those, those little buggers. Soon, it was as if you weren't in a hallway anymore, but in a cave instead.

Dwalin had been calling out to you after a while of running through the cave-like hallway. But the thing was, he didn't sound angry anymore. 

He sounded worried, desperate even, which was very much out of character for Dwalin, to be honest...

Sadly, you hadn't had the time to realize why Dwalin acted the way he did before you dropped down a hole in the floor with a yelp. At least you found out why he was so concerned.

What a great day...

*(*)*(*)*

A short cry reverberated throughout the chamber, and a high pitched voice followed after.

"Could you be more gentle!?"

You glared at Dwalin, who like always, grunted his replies instead of talking like a normal Dwarf-being!

Though he did what you asked and rubbed the ointment on your bruises more gently, which felt like heaven on your sore skin...

You felt absolutely stupid, sitting on a wooden bench with Dwalin treating your bruises and wounds. (Oin was too busy to do it himself so he shoved ointment in Dwalin's hand. The other was holding you at that moment, for Dwalin wouldn't allow you to walk yourself. Oin said that Dwalin should do it before promptly leaving.) Dwalin had to pull you out of the hole, though he spoke more words than he had said to you this entire day. You counted that as a victory.

You still felt your heart flutter every time you thought about it: He had been extremely gentle, lifting you out of the hole with both his arms. Cradling you to his chest while muttering in dwarvish. Checking all over your body before caressing the back of your head and pressing it against his shoulder as he held you close. This time, you understood his mumbles: "Thank Mahal, yer safe," his voice was so quiet, wavering with raw emotion;

"never do anything like that ever again, ya hear me."

Dwalin was still shirtless and covered in glue and feathers during the entire ordeal.

Your heart had skipped multiple beats right then and there, cheeks flushed red. You had been trying to process those words the entire way to Oin. Still trying to figure out the meaning behind the words he uttered with such intensity.                

You were brought out of your trance by Dwalin tapping on your shoulder, you looked over to see him staring at you, "Lift yer left foot."

You did as he asked, lifting your foot. Dwalin grasped it gently in one hand as he removed the boot delicately. If this was in a different situation, it would have been very intimate. No, wait, scratch that; it's intimate even now, which was not good for your heart, which was doing summersaults inside your chest. Yep, you were screwed...

So badly, and heavenly screwed. 

Yet you couldn't find it in yourself to really mind.

Once Dwalin removed the boot and sock, he started to massage your foot with ointment, muttering to himself. "Why did ya let yerself be dragged in the princes' pranks."

It wasn't a question, but you answered anyway, "Those princes made me promise to help them out when I was drunk- don't look at me like that Dwalin! You know I never break promises, even if I made them while I was drunk."

He averted his eyes, stilling his ministrations slightly. "Ya need to learn to say no."

His voice was almost too soft to hear, but you did.

You huffed in return, "I'm getting better at it though! I said no to Fleder-Fledder something when he tried to get me to marry him!"

Dwalin chuckled, "Aye ya did. Ya kicked him good in the nuts."

"Well, he deserved it, I didn't even know him and wouldn't take no for an answer, so I had to make it clear." 

You grinned at Dwalin as he shook his head, a smirk on his face.

Your eyes turned soft, remembering how Dwalin had positioned himself between the man and you when the man tried to grab you by the neck. Your hero had glared at the man fiercely, threatening to gut him with his axe if he didn't take the hint and shove off.

The man had pissed himself before he had sprinted off, too scared to utter a single word.

You had hugged Dwalin to thank him and since then, he only acknowledged you with grunts... That was the day before the feast.

Balin had said not to take it personally, that Dwalin needed time to sort himself out. But damn was it hard to not take it to heart.

"Why did you do it?"

The dam broke, spilling your most inner thoughts. Fumbling with your fingers, you stared at the ground, missing the confused look on Dwalin's face. "What?"

"Why did you ignore me after I hugged you?"

You were not gonna beat around the bush with this one. You made your bed, and now you need to lie in it.

"You didn't acknowledge me for three days. Balin said to give you space, so I did. But damnit Dwalin, you ignored me for three days! Why?"

You didn't mean for your voice to crack when you looked him in the eyes. You didn't mean for the tear to slip past. Dwalin's eyes widened in return. Very slightly, but you noticed. He averted his gaze to the ground for a second, placing your foot down gently and then looked up into your eyes. 

"I...I got confused," he began, eyes full with emotions, some you couldn't even place. "I got confused...Emotions which I thought I had buried deep down, long ago resurfaced..." you blinked. Were his eyes getting glassy? 

"They resurfaced tenfold. I didn't know what to do or think… I didn't think," he grabbed your hand in his delicately, tracing the skin with his thumb, never taking his eyes off you even once. "I threw up my walls in a panic, I shouldn't have, but I did..." he took in a deep breath. "Hurting those dear to me." Dwalin pressed his lips against your hand, it was gentle and soft. Butterflies fluttered inside your stomach.

"Y/N, lass, I truly regret putting ya through such pain. Could you forgive this fool of a dwarf?" He whispered, staring at you with pleading eyes.

You did what everyone would do in this situation.

You hit him on the head and yelled, "you idiot!!" and slapped against his chest multiple times. "I thought you hated me...!" Dwalin grabbed you by the waist and raised you into the air without much problem. He stared into your eyes with passion as he uttered one word.

"Never."

The two of you were only a small length apart. Without hesitating, you closed the distance, pressing your lips against his. He passionately returned the kiss, both of you closing your eyes as you relished the feeling of each other.

Yeah, you were on cloud nine alright. The touch of Dwalin's hands holding you so gently set your skin aflame. You could get used to this.

Parting to gasp for air, you glanced at Dwalin's face. Eyes lidded, and mouth slightly open. You smirked then, leaning in, you brushed your lips lightly against his.

He groaned in return. 

"Yer doing things to me, lass," he pressed his head against yours, his eyes soft as he looked at you. "Be mine?"

You only nodded, leaning in for another kiss to seal the promise.

Yeah, today was a great day...

~~~~~

Thank you for reading! And keep soaring high!^^

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Sora’s Rambles!

If you are on a tag list of a fandom or requested something you will get notified for Sora's rambles. When I'm working on that fandom or request, i will post little ramblings about the story I'm working on, a sort of teaser if you will. If you don't want to be notified on Sora's rambles please let me know^^

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Joey Donner

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- It was a little known fact that nearly every girl in your school wanted to date or at least screw Joey Donner. You were no exception but at least you could tell he was a total ass and didn’t actually try to get with him.

- You acted uninterested, convinced yourself at times that you were uninterested yet deep down you knew you secretly were attracted to him even if it was just the surface you were attracted to.

- But you’re disinterest is what drew Joeys attention to you in the first place. As everyone else swooned you completely ignored him and talked to “losers” instead, hiding away from attention and for the most part wearing clothes which left nearly everything to the imagination. Though to be fair, you woke up at five in the morning and stayed in school till two; frankly you just weren’t in the mood for heels.

- He wasn’t entirely compelled just by that. No, his real interest towards you started when a friend of yours decided to give you a makeover and plead with you to try it out for a week just to see what would happen. Since you were equally curious you gave it a try, even though you knew it was going to be a hassle.

- Thats why early one morning you arrived at school dressed in a v-neck top, a tight skirt, heels, hair perfectly done and more makeup than usual. To say he was enticed would be an understatement.

- “Had you always been so hot?” Was a common question among your peers but most didn’t even realize it was you until halfway through the day. Even Cameron and Michael; your friends, were having trouble not staring at your cleavage. Boys were swarming you to say the least.

- It was kind of fucked up to have the same people who made fun of you throughout middle school and high school now open doors and pull out chairs for you.

- You and Joey were lab partners so to an extent you were forced to interact for at least a good ten minutes a day. A lot of girls were jealous of you for this exact reason but you didn’t pay them any mind.

- It was when you were sat at your desk pulling on gloves to cut open frogs that Joey actually got his first look at you, well, the new you. He genuinely thought you were transferred and a new girl was sitting in your place. Sure he thought you were good looking before but every girl looks a bit better with makeup and some tight clothes, at least to guys like him.

- He slowly sat down next to you, eyes trained on your face and body as he went. You paid him no mind as you wrote down your notes and got to work. He sat there staring at you for a few moments before shaking his head and getting a hold of himself. He couldn’t actually get with a “loser” like you; it would ruin his reputation.

- He was bewildered when he found himself actually starting to like you. You, the girl who was a nobody, the girl that half the school didn’t know existed and the girl that, regardless of all that, still didn’t like him. You were weirdly endearing for it; hot even. He actually had to work to gain your attention.

- Joey doesn’t really know how to go after girls that he doesn’t have leverage on. Like if a girl likes him it’s easy to score with her but what does he do if they seem to hate his guts?

- He tried flirting, complimenting you and being sweet before he asked you out for the first time. You rejected him, quite brutally might he add and so he had to take a different plan of action. His second plan was to annoy the hell out of you, getting you riled up so that you’d give him the attention he wanted from you, even if it was given to him with a glare.

- After an especially rough week with him borderline bullying you he made the mistake of asking you out again. That’s how you and him got into an insult match in an empty hallway of the school after classes ended.

- A moment of stillness came over the two of you after a particularly heated exchange of words. When all of a sudden his hands were cupping your cheeks and your lips were smashing together.

- It was rough, passionate, heated. You didn’t exactly know why it was happening but to hell if you weren’t enjoying it. So long story short you ended up making out with the cocky most popular guy in the school who only moments before you were calling a pompous ass.

- When you came to your senses you realized he had you pinned against the wall and was thoroughly enjoying himself. The two of you pulled apart to catch your breath and were silent for a while, still close in proximity. Both of you leaned in and shared a much tamer kiss before he spoke.

“I’m an asshole, I get it, but that was great and you can’t deny it, alright? There’s something between us and you know it so why don’t we see how this plays out. Let me take you out and make everyone in this town jealous that I have you.”

- Well maybe it was worth a shot, right? You pulled him into another kiss which he smiled into like a giddy fool even if he wouldn’t ever admit it.

- So that’s how you became the hottest couple in school and started living out the dreams of all your classmates.

- He has a major soft spot for you.

- He’s really cuddly when you’re alone. He’s like a totally different person.

- Lots of gifts and dates people your age shouldn’t be able to afford.

- Being backstage at his modeling and commercial jobs.

- He’s jealous as hell, he hates boys looking at you but at the same time loves it because he’s a smug asshole. It makes him proud that people want what only he has.

- He’s lowkey possessive.

- You have to wear his jacket in classes you don’t have with him.

- Hickeys and constant pda.

- When he’s bored he tends to write his name on your skin. At some point he’ll get you a necklace with his name on it and a ring for himself that has yours engraved on it. He probably wouldn’t even tell you about his ring, you’d just notice it for yourself one day and get a little misty eyed.

- He’ll randomly grab a part of your body and start drawing on it. He reserves dicks for other people though.

- Once you’re in his car he’s eating your face. His lips are on yours and they aren’t letting up until they get their fill.

- He likes to grab your face and pull you into kisses.

- His arm is constantly wrapped around your shoulders or waist.

- You’re on his lap like 90% of the time.

- Even though he’s got a big ego, he actually gets pretty flustered when you compliment him on things other than his looks. He doesn’t know how to react at first but he tries his best to play it off and act cool.

- Someway, somehow, you’re incorporated into his workouts whether it be you sitting on his back or underneath him during pushups or you being used as a bench press. It makes things more entertaining for him and lets him show off.

- I feel like his household was the kind where money substituted actual relationships so this boy is probably hella attention starved. The first time you showed him innocent affection he was kinda confused.

“What are you doing?”

“Loving you.”

“...alright.”

- He’s an asshole but it’s somehow endearing?

- Anyone who comes close to bothering you is getting his ass kicked either by him or someone he’s paid to do so.

- He’s a pretty demanding person, he wants your attention, affection, anything you can give him. You’re basically inseparable.

- Hugs from behind with his head resting on your shoulder.

- He’s a sexual guy and proud of it so undoubtedly sex will be a part of your relationship.

- It gets him all hot and bothered when you wear his clothes.

- Him “accidentally” touching your boobs and butt. Just blatant groping yet he’ll probably apologize like it was a mistake.

- Wearing one of his rings, most likely on a chain around your neck.

- Flowers and cute but ‘macho’ notes.

- Fighting usually ends up being his fault because he’s a cocky bastard and won’t ever admit he’s wrong. It also doesn’t help that he thinks he can do whatever he wants.

- You tend to give him the cold shoulder. It annoys the everloving fuck out of him because he’s only just now gotten used to and started to rely on your affection. When you’re not giving it to him there’s a lot of tension and stress in his life. People in school suffer since he takes out all his annoyance on them.

- After a little while he’ll man up and apologize, holding out his arms for a hug once he’s finished. He both smugly smile and melts like butter when you wrap your arms around him.

- If you massage his scalp he’ll turn to putty in your hands.

- Skincare with him. Masks, creams, etc; he probably pampers himself more than you do.

- Likes laying his head in your lap and having you read to him.

- Your teachers love you since you tame him in the classes you share with each other.

- Getting him to stop picking on people.

- Helping him with schoolwork. He’s not dumb he just lacks the motivation and focus to actually go through with and finish his assignments.

- He tries his best to calm down with his drinking and partying because he knows you hate when he’s drunk.

- He likes randomly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

- Pestering you is a game he’s good at and one he enjoys.

- His parents probably like you fine enough but your parents probably don’t like him. Not many parents would unless perhaps you just show your mother a picture of him.

- He’s definitely attempted to bribe your teachers into putting you guys in the same classes, teams, and lab groups.

- When he’s alone and actually tries to do well he can be pretty good at drawing.

- If you mention that you like a certain kind of shirt on him he’ll magically own like a dozen more over night.

- He really likes when you gush over and compliment him. It gives him the confidence that he really didn’t need but greatly appreciates. Or maybe it’s just a boost to his already inflated ego.

- Whenever you’re cold all you have to do is snuggle into him, he’s like a human heater and is all smiles when you randomly bury yourself into his chest.

- No one is allowed to interrupt the two of you at lunch without a proper reason unless they want to be made a fool of in front of everybody.

- He has a hard time saying he loves you because he wants to keep up his tough guy reputation but his heart swells everytime you say it. Deep down you know he does.

- You’re the power couple of the school.

[hubbytaeil]

Could you write with prompts "Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions." +“I’d hold onto something if I were you.” with mr moon what a tease taeil, please? Thank you ♡♡♡♡

Taeil +  #59"Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions."  & #69“I’d hold onto something if I were you.”

characters: Taeil x female reader ft. best friend!Donghyuck

word count: +3k (oops)

genre: smut, little fluff towards the end

soundtrack: do me - kim petras

a/n: AAAA finally a Taeil request :’) i was so happy when i found this in my inbox, thank you anon, I hope it’s not too long but oh well hehe

summary: cutting straight to the chase is no fun sometimes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Visiting your friend Donghyuck at his place was a weekly appointment for you. After a session of you absolutely destroying him in Overwatch, you would order pizza and gossip peacefully in the kitchen. It was all fun and games up until his roommate Taeil would come home from work. You had never gotten to talk to him properly ever since he had moved in, but taking the first step to establish a neutral 'hey, I'm your roommate's friend' type of relationship was taking way more effort than you expected. Mainly because every time you would greet him, Taeil would just nod his head and walk straight to his room. "I swear, he's hilarious when it's just me and him." Donghyuckwould say to justify his friend's awkward behaviour.

Everything changed one night during which you were woken up by the sound of your ringtone. You picked up the phone to a completely wasted Donghyuck, begging you to come and pick him up. When you arrived at the club, visibly irritated, you were surprised to see Taeil as well, who was clinging onto Donghyuck's shoulder in the attempt of standing up straight. He was wearing a simple black shirt, unbuttoned just enough for you to admire the modest necklace hanging on his chest. His face was adorned with a cheeky smile you had never seen before; his body was swaying left and right, unable to stay still."Hey, y/n." he winked at you before finally freeing Donghyuck and moving towards you with irregular steps. Instinctively, you spread out your arms foreword, catching him before he could fall, surprising even yourself by your swift reaction. "Hey, look at those lovebirds bonding! How cute!" Donghyuck exclaimed for everyone who could hear him, pointing his finger at you and Taeil, still entangled rather awkwardly. You felt your cheeks getting hotter as Taeil was mumbling sentences that made no sense in your ear, but you blamed it on the anger." Shut up and get in the car, you idiot." You hissed in response, glaring at Donghyuck before grabbing him by the hem of his sleeve, all the while trying to ignore the other man who still had his arms around you even when you finally reached the parking lot.

In the car ride, Donghyuck fell sound asleep in the span of two minutes, whilst Taeil, who was sitting beside you, kept on uttering cheesy pick-up lines that would get lost in the back of his throat before he could finish them. Your initial intention was to keep a frown and ignore him, to show him your annoyance with the entire situation. But you had to admit, your plans took a detour when you noticed for the first time just how attractive Taeil really was. With his shirt swinging back and forth when he rolled down the window all the way, revealing a little more than you had already seen, his skin glistening under the artificial lights as he kept on playing with his hair; he looked rather otherworldly. And kind of distracting, you reminded yourself as you gripped the wheel firmly, concentrating on the road. But Taeil was not going to let you go that easily. Smoothly, he brought his hand to rest on your thigh to gain back your attention. You gulped in your throat but your eyes remained strictly where they were. Your mind couldn't figure out what to say at the feeling of Taeil's warm palm over your cold skin. "Is this bothering you, y/n?" Taeil muttered, giving your bare thigh a faint squeeze. You swallowed over nothing again, avoiding his gaze at all costs. "You're very straightforward when you're drunk, uh?" You questioned, carefully moving Taeil's hand away and positioning it back on his lap; yet once again he was one step ahead of you. When you were about to put your hand back on the wheel, Taeil forced it down on his leg, maybe a little too close to his crotch, squeezing your fingers fiercely. "Is being straightforward a bad thing?" At this point, you were starting to question if you were the intoxicated one, since your head was starting to spin due to this sudden new side of your friend's roommate you were witnessing. "Not- not necessarily, no." You responded nervously, doing whatever you could to free yourself from Taeil's grip, unsuccessfully. The car ride proceeded in silence, with your hand still glued to Taeil's thigh, and Donghyuck's snores having the better of the music that was playing.

After that night, every time Taeil would walk in on you and Donghyuck, the tension was palpable and rather suffocating. At least he started talking more, cracking a few jokes here and there, but you couldn't shake off the vision of him, basically pressing your hand down on his lap, piercing through with his daring eyes. Or, to be more precise, he wouldn't let you shake it off. With every chance he would get, Taeil would sneakily try to start some sort of physical contact, whether that'd be nudging your shoulder with his, his hand rubbing the small of your back whenever he needed to pass through, or when luck turned his way and Donghyuck would leave the room, grabbing your hips and giving you a back hug that was anything but done in good friendship. You knew the right thing would've been to call him out as soon as the whole thing started. But you let it slide, thinking Taeil would've stopped. That's what you said yourself the first time, and the second time too. By the fifth time you realised you were not bothered at all by how he was acting. In fact, it was nice knowing that visiting Donghyuck also meant seeing Taeil and getting some well- deserved attention.

By the time you lost count, you and Taeil both knew that the tension that was building up would've exploded the minute you two would've found yourselves alone. You deluded yourself thinking that wouldn't have happened in a million years. Taeil was never home most of the time, and when he was Donghyuck was there too, nothing to worry about. But when you least expected it, the universe smacked you right in the face when something Donghyuck had ordered online was delivered to your address accidentally. Since you didn't live far away, you thought it sensible to bring the package to its rightful owner. But when you knocked the door, his rather silent yet determined roommate opened up, just as astonished as you. You stumbled on your words while explaining the reason of your visit, to which Taeil just hummed in response, clearing his throat before revealing that Donghyuck was stuck at work. "Oh, really?" "Yeah, he won't be home for hours." You nodded, with the box still in your hands and your mouth semi-open, in hope to come out with a descent answer. "Well, don't just stand there." Exclaimed Taeil, taking the package gently out your hands and placing it in front of the shoe rack. "I can make you some coffee." You were ready to refuse his proposal, eager to leave the apartment immediately. "C'mon, I was just making it, there's enough for both of us." Taeil turned around, expecting you to follow him into the kitchen. And that's what you did. You sat down the chair, observing Taeil's arms thoroughly while they moved with delicate motions as he was pouring the hot drink into the coloured cups. It was just a small habit you had picked up; when Taeil wasn't looking your eyes would analyse his every mannerism, to the point where you could guess in which way his hair would've fallen if he turned around. The gentle tap of the cups being placed on the table brought you back on Earth. "Thank you Taeil, you didn't have to." You said, taking a sip of coffee. He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle. "But I wanted to." You spilled some of your drink at his statement, immediately grabbing a napkin to dry the wooden table. "Am I that bad at flirting, y/n?" Taeil asked almost to himself; you looked at him completely dumbstruck, inevitably caught off guard by Taeil's change of tone. But that's what you liked the most about him: his ability of going from looking a little too innocent to spitting out exactly what he was thinking without any filters. "N-no, not bad...just, maybe a bit confusing?" You replied, standing up quickly to throw away the stained napkin. "Confusing? In what way?" Taeil was genuinely curious, yet you couldn't help but fake a small laugh, turning in his direction. "Uhm, let me think... maybe when at first you barely talk to me, then you get drunk and start putting my hand on your crotch while I'm driving" you started to explain and you could see his expression getting more disoriented in the corner of your eye as you proceeded with your list. "...or when as soon as Donghyuck turns around you waste no time before getting your hands on me. Yeah, you have to admit, it's very confusing. " Silence fell upon the kitchen for a moment before Taeil spoke again. He shifted in his seat just enough to face you directly. Somehow, his eyes emanated a strange kind of light, just like that night in the car. "You don't seem to dislike it though." Touché. No words left your lips, you let your eyes speak for you, gazing at Taeil from head to toe, feeling like a firework, ready to shoot colourful sparks at any moment if he kept on gawking at you like a hunter setting a trap for his prey. Taeil stood up as well, slowly making his way to the side of the room where you were standing. "Don't." You warned him before he could get any closer. "Why?" Taeil tilted his head to the side, never losing the eye contact. Even if the windows were wide open, it was getting harder to breath. There was still a significant amount of distance between you and Taeil, and yet you could feel his touch on you, almost like phantom pain. And your body was eager to feel more of that pain. "Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions." You stated, leaning back on the counter, so you could get a better look at him. Taeil raised his eyebrow at you in response before mockingly taking one single step forward. "Oops." He whispered, innocently putting his hand on his lips, which made your mind go blank. "Fuck it." You uttered under your breath before taking what almost looked like a run-up and throwing your arms around Taeil's neck, joining your lips roughly. The kiss was beyond sloppy; both of your mouths fighting to decide who was in control, your hands roaming each other in an animalistic manner. With your bodies still entangled, you knocked over a few plastic salad bowls while you attempted to exit the kitchen. It would've looked like a fight if it wasn't for Taeil sucking on your lower lip harshly and you humming resoundingly at the mix of pain and pleasure. A couple of missteps later, and a few head bumps against the shelves placed in corridor, you finally reached Taeil's door, which was opened wide by a hard push of his foot, since his hands were busy kneading your bottom and pushing you against him. You moaned gladly, feeling his bulge against your needy core, but it wasn't enough. Before you knew it, you both fell on the bed with your tongues still at a useless war, Taeil pressing his entire weight on you, which unavoidably left you breathless only for a few seconds when your body hit the mattress. When he realised that you were holding your breath, Taeil immediately stood up with his palms on either side of your head. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" There it was again, the man who just seconds ago had his tongue in your mouth, asking with goggled eyed if you were okay. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you wrapped your legs around Taeil's waist, using your strength to push him back against you, making him whimper slightly. A slow strained moan echoed through the otherwise silent bedroom when you felt Taeil's erection over your clothed sex again. When your eyes opened up, you looked at him deeply, getting closer up until his nose was touching yours. "It takes a lot more to hurt me." You whispered seductively before reaching up to bite his bottom lip, leaving a small mark to match with the one he had made on yours. Taeil hummed softly, getting lost in the pleasure you were providing him. "I'd hold on to something if I were you then." Taeil remarked, letting his hand play with the hem of your shirt. "I thought I already was." You responded jokingly, tightening your legs around him once again, almost making him lose balance. He responded with a grunt, attacking your neck sinfully, kissing, biting, and licking it, making your mind go completely blank. All you could was to reach for his back, holding Taeil as tight as you could while grinding over his crotch, desperately chasing some sort of satisfaction. "How bad do you want it?" Asked Taeil, moving his hips further to help you but your broken moans weren't enough for an answer. He freed himself from your needy grip, spreading your legs apart and making you gasp loudly. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, you were saying?" Taeil felt a desperate need to hear you loud and clear, to shout how badly you needed him to just put one single finger in. "Please, please, please!" You screamed, your voice breaking over the last plead. Taeil grabbed your jaw harshly, making you look into his lust-filled eyes, leaving you feeling exposed even if you were still fully dressed. " 'Please' what? Elaborate, baby girl." You whimpered at the growing discomfort inside your panties. "Please, give it to me. I need it so bad, so bad." You moaned, a few tears forming in the corner of your eyes. Taeil kissed you once more in approval, but to your surprise, he quickly stood up on his knees, removing your jeans but leaving your panties untouched. "I want to see you do it." You sat up, slowly removing the now ruined garment. You sighed in relief, spreading your legs even further apart, purposely exaggerating your reaction, since you were starting to understand what pushed Taeil over the edge. And you were right. You saw it in how he smiled blissfully at the sight of your soaking pussy, all because of him. He lied on the bed next to you, leaving you confused. "Sit on my face." Your jaw drooped unconsciously. No guy you had ever slept with had ever asked you such a thing. Actually, no one you had ever been with was as vocal as Taeil in general. "You don't want to, y/n?" The more concerned side of Taeil came out yet again seeing you hesitate. You crawled all the way up to his face, pushing aside your worries. "Didn't you hear me scream, like, two minutes ago?" You joked, messing up his hair. "Oh, yeah. And I think I'd like to hear more." He announced as he immediately started diving into your core. Your hips moved to match with the swiftness of his tongue, but Taeil prevented them from any further movement, firmly grounding you against his hot mouth. Unable to move, you looked down, letting yourself moan enthusiastically at the sight of Taeil delivering delicious licks over your slit, alternating them with sweet kisses. When he finally found your most sensitive stop, one of your hands went directly to grab the headboard for support while the other went through Taeil's hair, quickly losing control over your body’s reaction. His eyes shimmered in seeing you this way, in hearing your moans and screams echoing in the empty apartment. "So good, so good. Oh God, you're so good." You felt him hum happily at the shower of compliments, the vibrations leaving your legs shaky. Suddenly, you felt a harsh smack against your ass, to which you responded with the loudest moan so far. "We haven't even gotten to the best part yet, baby girl." Taeil affirmed with his mouth still facing your core, kissing it one last time before sliding under you to settle himself behind you, now completely on all fours. You heard him remove his trousers while you caught your breath, unsure if you couldn't go further or if all you wanted was more and more. You felt Taeil's fingers reaching for your shirt, removing it carefully, and your bra was gone soon after. Taeil grabbed both of your breasts passionately while kissing the nape of your neck. Then he leaned back, his palms trailing lines over your back and finally reaching for your bottom, savouring how it felt in his hands. "Do you have a thing for my ass or something?" You teased him, looking over your shoulder to meet his burning gaze. Yet again, Taeil delivered another smack, this time even harder than before. You arched your back at the bittersweet sensation. "How did you know?" Taeil replied, reaching for a condom in the nearby drawer. Once he put it on, he started brushing the tip against your entrance, you groaned, wanting Taeil to fill you up mercilessly. "Stop playing and fuck me." You hurried him, now aware that what he needed the most were your words. Just like that, Taeil penetrated you all the way, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Fuck- so tight.” You hid your face in pillow as he moved inside you, your wet walls welcoming him merrily. You could feel your juices dripping on the sheets but neither of you cared. "How are you so pretty front to back?" Taeil whispered in your ear before being cut by his own moan. You forced yourself to raise your upper body from the mattress, moving your head towards Taeil, making him see just how good he was making you feel. Your mouth was wide open while your eyes quickly went from Taeil to what you could see of his member pumping in and out of you, the sight making you clench around him. Taeil groaned resoundingly, picking up his pace, the sound of flesh against flesh filling your ears. "You like that, uh? You like to see your pretty little pussy all filled up?" You nodded your head up and down so quickly you thought you we about to strain your neck. "Well then, take a better look yourself." Taeil abruptly removed himself from you and before you could complain at the emptiness in your core, he wasted no time in turning you upside down and pushing himself inside you in the span of a few seconds. You shouted feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure.  You immediately took advantage of the new position to look at Taeil's cock disappearing exquisitely between your legs. You threw your head back against the pillow, moaning absolute nonsense, unable to form one single sentence. The vision of you, completely losing your mind over Taeil's cock only gave him motivation to go even harder, if it was even possible. "S-Shit, Taeil I'm close-" as if he read your mind, he placed one of your ankles over his shoulder, the new angle making you both see stars. You screamed his name, as your arms went in all different directions over the mattress, your so awaited orgasm crashing over you. He continued, chasing his own high, gladly helped by your throbbing walls as he shot his release inside the condom. Your vision was still blurry even after he had gotten up to reach for the bin and lied back on the bed with you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Taeil brushed his nose against your cheek to which you responded with a chuckle. "Oh, so you're alive?" Taeil joked, you mocked his tone, shifting to his side to have him face to face. "Not entirely. Give me a couple of hours and I'll be as good as new." Taeil gently rubbed the back of your head, smiling at you, taking in the vision of you leaning on your elbow, entirely naked on his bed. He kissed your shoulder gently, feeling the drowsiness taking over him. "Can you stay for a while?" he asked innocently, rubbing small circles over your skin as his eyes started closing. "I can stay for as long as you want me to." You reassured him, falling deeper into his embrace.

↬prompts for requests

[allthingshetalia]

A scenario/imagine/headcanons or whatever you think is best, where the allies wake up one morning and have turned into the opposite gender(or their nyo!selves) and how their and their fem!s/o would react? Maybe some of them have to endure having a period?

💕💕💕💕yesssss I had way tooooo much fun making this!💕💕💕💕💕

America

Boobies 🤤

He would literally scream so loud

Then he would realize how hot he looks

“Damn I’d fuck me”

Would probably spend a lot of time by herself himself to find out what actually makes a woman feel good

After about a solid week he’d finally call Iggy and ask him what the hell happened

England

With his luck the first day of him being a woman he would get her his period

I don’t know which pronouns to use!! Forgive me

Cramps, cursing, and chocolate

He would honestly just sit on the toilet and bleed 🩸 out for an hour or so because he doesn’t know what to do

Thank god for google

Would stick some toilet paper in his bloody area he would be off to the store

He would then try to find a spell to change himself back

France

*girly scream*

“I am the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on”

He would learn a great deal about harassment

Even though he could still kick anyone’s ass in lady form it really put into perspective some things for him

He actually does enjoy being a woman for a little bit though

All the stylish clothes

The gossip

He would very quickly make girlfriends

But would eventually miss being a man and begrudgingly beg ask England for help

Russia

Would honestly just think he’s still drunk from the night before

Once he firgures out this is really happening though he doesn’t exactly know what to do

He’s a little to embarrassed to go ask England for help

And Romania is a no go

So maybe Norway????

Ya Norway’s chill and can keep a secret

Regardless he would stare at himself for a long time

He feels so small

(even though the female version of him is probably like 6’2)

Sad when he realizes he has resting bitch face

And he will probably think he’s ugly

Even tho he’s a hot ass lady

China

Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope

“It’s because people mistake me as a woman too much! Now I’ve turned into one.”

He would honestly probably be the most chill out of everyone

He would just relax and drink some tea and then decide what to do from there on out

Canada

Just figured England messed up a spell again

He would get noticed a lot more as a woman though because he is a very pretty lady

Peeing freaks him out

Would probably pee on the floor accidentally because he tried to stand up and pee

May cry at one point

It is nice when you drop food and your boobs catch it before it hits the ground tho

And he can finally do some figure skating without harsh judgment

{Bonus}

Italy

“Yay now Germany can’t yell at me because it is illegal to yell at a woman!”

Uses it as an excuse

“No I didn’t finish my paperwork! I had really bad cramps!”

Speaking of cramps

He literally turns into Romano when he’s on his period!!!!

And he cries a lot

From pain and because he saw a something cute or sad

Japan

Is surprisingly the least chill

Immediately calls England and then gets scared because his voice is so high

And gets extra mad because England thinks it’s a prank call by America

Then when England finally gets it Japan locks himself in the house until England gets there

He does snap a few pictures of himself tho

Germany

Prussia thought he was getting laid when he heard a feminine scream from upstairs

Only to see a very Germany-looking woman grab him by the shoulders and panic

He makes Prussia call England because his voice freaks him out

But then again—he can’t stop staring at his own boobs

And he is a really nice looking woman

Manly- yet feminine

But please change him back

His back hurts from the extra weight on his chest

Prussia

Has wayyyyy to much fun

Flirts with Austria because Austria is confused because it’s Prussia- but yet a version of Prussia who he is for some reason attracted to

Much like America he learns everything he doesn’t already know about woman

Sees it as his duty to punch men in the face that catcall him

Would probably somehow start a feminist movement

Germany will beg England to change him back because Prussia makes Germany do everything for him

“West open the door for me! I am a lady after all!”

“West throw your jacket down over the puddle so I don’t get my shoes wet!”

“West! Does this dress make me look tooooo good?”

“West! That man is undressing me with his eyes! Defend my honor!”

“Omg! West schedule a fight with HUNGARY! I can finally fight her without being called a HORRIBLE PERSON WHO BEATS WOMAN! BECAUSE I AM A WOMAN!!!”

Romano

Screams

Panics

Faint repeat

Gets very scared when Spain flirts with him before realizing IT IS HIM

Within a day he’ll be saying

“God men are disgusting!”

Is a boss ass bitch though

Like women will turn gay for him her

Calls England to change him back

And locks himself up the house until England does turn him back

[parkjess]

hi there! can i request for an astro accidental drunk confession to the reader where the reader tried to take care of them because they’re drunk & they thought it was someone else or something like that!! im not sure if i make sense 😭

Thank you for requesting!🥰

Note: Since I can’t really imagine a different reaction for the 6 of them, this one will be in pairs I think would act the same.

Sorry for writing this forever! I had a writing block and needed time to get inspiration.🙏🏻

Myungjun& Moonbin:

He was on his way back home when he texted you he’ll be there in a while, so you made the bed for him, assuming he will be tired after a night out with the boys.

He was staying at your place for the weekend since he had work to do around, and his own place was 2 hours away from here. So you gave him the spare room you had in your apartment you share with your other best friend, his sister.

Waiting for him to open the door, but it was too late now and you didn’t hear anything from him for a while now since he last texted you. Suddenly, a weird noise, such as a ball hitting a wall was heard at the front door.

Worriedly, you jumped off the couch, heading straight to check where the noise came from.

Opening the door, there was your friend, all spread on the floor now, arms seemed to give in.

“Oh my god!” You accidentally shout too loudly, immediately placing a hand on your mouth, calling out to your friend for help. Both of you make an attempt to lift the drunk guy, but eventually drag him on the floor to his temporary bedroom.

“Why did you drink so much, dummy.” You hit his arm playfully while your other hand dips a towel in a water bowl, placing it on his forehead. He didn’t say anything but only opened his eyes a bit, as if he just woke up, feeling dizzy.

You grabbed the water bowl to bring a new one, but as you just lift yourself of his bed you were sitting on until now, he grips you arm and stops you with the small amount of energy he has left. He calls you by his sister’s name, but she left as soon as you started to take care of him.

“Wait, I’ll bring more water.” You didn’t even bother telling him not to move anywhere because you know he’s tired and tipsy. -“I like y/n so much where is she~” he whines as you stay there shocked from what you just heard. What the hell, he thinks I’m his sister!

You decided not to interrupt him and just listen to his words, as you already knew, the truth comes out when he’s drunk. Not bothering to tell him you are not his sister, he won’t even remember this in a few hours.

“Bro...” you call him, feeling uncomfortable by calling your childhood crush like that but it doesn’t even matter now. “I’ll bring you something to eat.” Only looking for an excuse to run away. -“I should tell y/n I love her...” he says in a drunk, low voice, grabbing his phone to call you.

“No, no you should rest now.” You take his phone and throw it somewhere else on the bed, heading to the kitchen.

When you came back you see his face lighten up, he took his phone and texted someone. Suddenly your phone got a notification he noticed, him sending you his confession in many texts was a mess since he could hear every notification you got whenever he sent.

-“OMO! It’s you...” he says surprised, yet his voice still shaking from being drunk and wasted. “I- you need to rest, go to sleep, it’s too late. I’ll be here in the morning.” You say finally and get out of the room, leaving him blushing, not worried enough due to the fact he won’t remember this after tonight.

In the morning he woke up to the sunlight shining bright in his eyes, bothered by it a little. Flexing out his arm to search for his phone on the bed, finding it within seconds and grabbing it with the least of power he has so early in the morning, well, early for a person who got drunk at midnight.

‘Are you awake yet?’ That was a text you sent him few minutes ago, maybe that’s the reason he woke up?

Oh shit, you thought. I shouldn’t have send it, he would read the last texts from last night!

“Hey! Good morning, how do you feel?” You break at once into his room, opening the door widely, making him jump and throw his phone away. -“you scared me! At least knock before you open the door like that!” He shouts, coughing because his morning voice gets cut.

-“I saw the messages.” He says when he gets out of the bed, wearing his shoes and fixing his hair, before you even get the chance to say something. “I hoped you won’t...” you confess. -“Yeah I don’t remember sending them but I only remember getting drunk with the others. So I guess I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“Is that true?”

-“Yeah you brought me here.”

“Not that you were drunk, idiot. What’s you said there.” You point at the phone that was laying on the carpet, upside down, with your head.

-“They say you never tell lies when you’re tipsy.”

“You could’ve just say it’s true, why all the poetic shit all of the sudden?”

-“Why you’re so mad so early in the morning?” He asks, stepping closer to you, you’re still wearing your pajamas, as well as he wears his last night’s clothes.

“Because, for years I’ve been waiting for you to say you love me, I hoped you will. And this is not how wanted it to be...”

-“Wa-wa-wait... does that mean- oh my- you love me back?”

“Stupid idiot, yeah why did you think I became friends with your sister?”

-“I think... do you wanna go on a date with me, y/n?” He smiles at the end, when your name comes out of his mouth, so softly.

“Promise you won’t get drunk there?”

-“Maybe only for you to take care of me.” He says, leaving a smirk.

Jinwoo & Dongmin:

You were sitting with your group of friends at the restaurant, celebrating whatever kind of a good reason to drink to.

It was the best night ever, full of laughter and pure joy, but something felt too good to be true, and you had a feeling something weird is going to happen.

The older friends started with small shots, then moved to being completely wasted because of the bottles of alcohol they shoved straight to their brain. You and the younger ones didn’t have any idea what’s going on with the other ones, but only looked at what they are doing drunk like they were.

Fortunately, the restaurant wasn’t crowded as usual, and it was quite late for people to come in, even though it’s the middle of Seoul.

At some point, you and your younger friends, who tried to prevent themselves from getting drunk, sat there as if you were watching a show, of the three others arguing loudly, like they usually do while the beer starts to effect.

“Oh my god what are they doing?” You whisper to one of your friends, who was sitting beside you, taking a bite from a pork rib.

-“Don’t ask me, I’m not responsible for that.” He jokingly answers, as one of the actors of the show suddenly stands up, his chair meeting the wall 3 meters behind, making all of you startled.

“Yah!” He shouts, you look at him with eyes open wide as he looks down straight at you, pointing out his finger toward your direction.

“Y/n!” He claims your name loudly, you turned red only from embarrassment while the others look at you with surprise.

-“Please, lets go home.” You say, trying to pull him back down before it gets worse, nodding your head to the owner of the restaurant who apparently got scared they started a fight.

“I love you y/n!” All of the sudden, the sentence you never thought you’ll hear from him, comes out, and you’re not the only one who hears it.

-“Oh my!” You cover your face after hitting your own forehead with your palm, -“I knew something weird is going to happen!” You murmur under your lips.

“Daebak!” Sanha drops his chopsticks on the table, shocked at his friend who just confessed. The other two drunk friends of yours who were loud until now, all became quiet.

“I love y/n with my whole heart.” Oh my, you thought.

-“Lets please end this night and go back to the dorm.” You nearly beg your sober friends, dying for this embarrassing moment will end soon.

When back at the dorms, you went straight to take care of the drunk babies, especially that one who confessed earlier tonight. Even though you nearly fell asleep while standing, you forced yourself to make sure they are going to sleep.

“Hyung, I love y/n so much.” He says softly to you, smiling unconsciously.

-“Shut up, I’m not your hyung.” You whisper to him as you place a towel on his burning forehead, bringing a bucket in case he wants to throw up.

For years you tried to hide and even delete your feelings for him, which didn’t work. And now you feel even more in trouble since he feels the same about you.

You decided to leave him a message for the next day when he wakes up:

‘I wasn’t your hyung, not even for a moment, last night.

I hope you don’t remember but I really wanna think you do.

I love you too. Y/n.”

Minhyuk& Sanha:

You were sitting with your best friend at a family gathering, his family this time after last time he was at your parents’ house.

Without you notice, he started to drink alcohol, shots that his cousins raised to cheers, and you didn’t even touch it though the adults might see this as disrespectful, but both you and your friend decided you’ll be in charge of driving tonight back to the dorms, despite the fact you weren’t the kind of a drinker.

At first he only started to whisper weird things in your ear you barely understood because it was unclear, then, he asked for more shots from his father, and you’re the only one who noticed the weird behavior of him. And maybe his mother too, but you said nothing yet. Until he stood up, starting to yell something, but you were wise and fast enough to put him back down and shush him before he embarrasses himself any more without being aware to it.

“Please control yourself, the night is almost over.” You whisper to him while holding his wrist close to you.

Luckily, his mother was sitting on the other side of yours. “Can I take him to your room? He’s completely wasted.” You ask her politely, she nodded her head with a slight worry spread on her face, like the loving mother she is to her son.

And you did, nodding to the rest of the family while holding the big, drunk baby, so he won’t fall down. “I told you you’ll end up drinking, you never listen to me...” you say to him, even though he can’t really understand who you are right now or what you’re saying, but you did warn him before.

Sighing, pulling over his parent’s bed cover to make it comfortable for him to rest until he hopefully falls asleep. -“Mom...” he whispers loudly when he looks at you with his lids half closed, then grabs your hand. “I-“

-“Tell y/n she should stay here, it’s too late I can’t leave her driving alone at night...” your eyes widened at the sudden worry your friend just claimed about, wondering how much of alcohol he has in his blood right now that he doesn’t even recognize you while looking at you.

“Y/n will be okay, she’s not a baby.” You reply, without bothering to explain anything to him. But he only whines and being stubborn about you going back alone.

-“Aish- no! Mom I want her to be with me, and she is a baby. To me. You know how much I like her...” If you were surprised by his sudden worry a minute ago, now you’re completely shocked by his words.

“What are you talking about? I’m- I mean, y/n is a smart girl, she can...” you don’t know what, but something stopped you from keeping on talking, you just let him be and agree to everything he says. “Okay, son. She will stay here tonight.” You lied, but he won’t remember it anyway in the morning.

You went out of the room with your friend smiling at the thought of you staying there, it was way too weird for you to think he likes you, because you liked him forever now, even though you tried to hide and forget these feelings since you don’t to ruin your long term friendship. You’re like a daughter to his parents, especially his mom, but you couldn’t not tell her what you’re trying to process in your own mind.

“He thinks I’m you, and he really insists I’m gonna stay here tonight, so I agreed because he won’t remember he even asked for it.” There was that motherly look she gave you, patting your shoulder and listening to you. -“Wait, so you leave?” She asks, surprised, you can see how much he looks like her when she does that face.

“Yes of course, but I’ll leave once he’s asleep.” You wanted to check if he’s all good and don’t need any help, ignoring the fact he is in his parents’ place, where he used to live since he was born and until he grew up. Maybe that’s was just the way you were taking care of him as much as you can.

-“Why won’t you stay, y/n?” His mother speaks up when you pour water into a glass to give your friend and check up on him. “I really don’t want to be a burden...” you furrowed your brows, surprised at her offer like you were surprised from her son.

-“You’re not, I ask you to stay.” She says, as if it was a command.

“If it’s that case, I can’t refuse.” You smile at her and she does the same.

On that night, her mother let you both sleep together on her and her husband’s bed, just because she trusted you and her own child.

In the morning, he rised with the sun, stretching his hands, accidentally bumping into your neck, waking you up. -“Oh my god y/n! What are you doing here?”

“Oh! What time is it?” You couldn’t believe you actually fell asleep, it was difficult for you to sleep on others’ beds, and you tried to sleep the whole night, don’t even remember when you drifted to dreamland.

He was smiling a bit, never thought he would wake up next to you, in his parents’ place. “I- You were drunk last night and you asked your mom for me to stay.” You say as you cover your mouth due to the morning breath he didn’t care about.

-“I did? Oh my god...” he almost whispered only to himself, but you were close enough to hear that. Not sure if he already realized he confessed his feelings, but surely worried about it and thinking of how he can you ask you if you already know how he feels without actually asking it.

“You’re sweet.” You say at once while watching him overthinking, staring at the empty ceiling, his eyes are full of little stars, he turns his head when your words snap him out of his thoughts.

-“Hu- What? We’re you talking to me?” His blinking fast as if he didn’t see clearly.

“Can you see anyone else here?”

-“Why would you say that?” He has that slightly cold personality when someone he admires compliments him, and you, oh he admires you a lot.

“Remember how you told me few days ago that every word that comes from a one’s mouth, has a reason and meaning?” You remind him, without both of you to notice, your bodies got close to each other and you face him so closely right now, scanning his beautiful skin.

-“Uhm... well?” He looks like he doesn’t listen, but he looks so beautiful looking straight into your eyes like this. “Then I believe it now.” You say and pick yourself up at once from the bed, wearing the slippers his mother gave you.

-“What has changed?” He asks, lifting himself on his elbow to support his body up on the bed, looking at you while you’re stepping to the door, taking one last look at him with a smile and say, “The fact that you said you love me, without being aware of it yourself.” You finally say, leaving the boy with an answer but completely confused, while heading out of the room.

[pedropascallovebot]

the way it’s calling me

The Mandalorian x Tangled AU

summary: a certain mandalorian isn’t sure if this it’s a capture, or a rescue mission when he meets the bounty he’s been sent after.  

aka, din isn’t sure how he keeps getting tangled up in these situations. 

a disclaimer: i wanted to retell one of my favorite stories, but i did take some liberties! i very much hope you guys enjoy. :’-)

—

Din didn’t care for under the table jobs for a multitude of reasons.

For starters, there was no telling how far the bounty could of gotten on foot. There was no telling if she was even alive, or what she was really on the run for.

He was offered a hefty amount of credits as a down payment for finding a runaway daughter, and an unwavering amount of riches and reputation when said asset was retrieved. (He wasn’t counting on the latter, but business in the guild was slow and a bit of extra money for ship parts wouldn’t hurt, he supposed.) The woman who sought him out as he was walking to his ship from the Covert was in shambles, tears streaming and practically shoving money in his face. How could he say no?

He did say no, actually. Din said no three times before she said her daughter would die if he didn’t find her, and what was the Mandalorian, a soldier, a protector, supposed to say to that? He hesitantly took his money, and when told there was no tracking fob, he almost threw it back. Another reason to despise these off the record commissions. If he wasn’t assured the girl was most certainly on this planet, he’d be halfway back to Nevarro by now.

But he didn’t throw it back in her face. Now he was right smack dab in the middle of an unfamiliar green planet with absolutely no direction, no name of a bounty, only a vague description of her appearance, and a place to bring her back to when captured.

Din doesn’t like the idea of going on an entire manhunt for basically pocket money, when it just sounds like an attempt to escape a helicopter parent. But he’s already taken payment, and it’s probably too late to regret it now.

—

Maker, he regrets it.

Bri’n is huge, and it’s all trees and dirt. It’s nearly impossible to find footprints or anything that can trace someone without a fob. He’s already deep in the forest when he finds the first manmade structure- a shack, with loud music, and clearly lots of alcohol.

He knows this, because said shack reeks of liquor and general man smell, and he’s about to give up. There’s absolutely no way that the bounty could be here, but he’s come way too far to not at least check, and he nearly fucking faints when he looks inside.

Of course, he thinks. Just when he’s about to start toying with the idea of violating too many codes of honor, he sees a girl from the window who looks suspiciously enough like the description the woman who hired him gave.

With the nonsensical thought of “pulling a fast one” and bolting with the money, (which Din knows he couldn’t do- on his list of attributes, thievery was not one of them) the plan goes to shambles when he sees how many men are absolutely in awe of the first girl they’ve probably seen in a long, long time. Din was not looking for a fight with one bounty, let alone an entire gang of drunkards.

Walking in, every single lowlife who’s ever done anything slightly illegal is now twiddling their thumbs, which gives him free reign to do whatever he wants- which right now, is get this girl back to her crazy mother and call it a night. He walks directly towards the table, where the bounty is being offered drinks galore, and he stops right in front of her when she’s pushing away a full glass. If he wasn’t pissed off he took a dead end job, he might feel bad for this girl for having to repeatedly deny these chaavlas.

“Can I help you with something?”

He stares at her, and the collection of men stare back at him.

“What’s your name?”

He remembers quickly he never got a name from her mother, and this might be a problem. Could he really capture a bounty based on a guess that it was her?

“It’s-“

The skinniest, and by far tiniest of them all stands up, and gives his best attempt to match Din’s level.

“What business have you got here, tin-can?”

The entire bar is now very clearly enjoying the show, and it takes everything in him not to pull out his blaster and make this situation a helluva lot easier.

He turns back to the girl.

“Clearly, you have a lot of loyal friends here, but we need to get you back home to your mom,” he demands, attempting to scare off any defiance she’s going to give. “She’s waiting for you back home, and she’s worried. Let’s not make this anymore difficult.”

Her mother hadn’t really provided much intel about what level of threat she was. For all he knew, she could be wielding her own weapons, and he didn’t care too much to find out. All he knew was her mother had told him she’d employed many others to go after her daughter, and some had done it for free. She had expressed obvious displeasure about payment through her pleas for help.

“I’m not going home, so you might as well-“

Din isn’t waiting anymore; he goes to grab her by the arm when he feels someone grab his own.

“She said she ain’t goin’ home, didn’t she?”

A voice from behind him makes Din slowly turn around, which proves to be a mistake when a raging drunk goes to throw a punch at his beskar. Grabbing the culprits fist, he twists it backwards before grabbing the blaster at his side, pointing it at the contestant who was going in for the kill.

Din is certainly not getting paid enough for this.

He goes to push down the body of the fist he’s gripping, when he hears yet another voice from behind him- for the first time in his life, he’s relieved to hear it’s just his bounty.

“Listen to me!”

Din is in shock when everyone goes quiet. Even the man who’s got a weapon pointed on him has his focus on the girl who is now standing on the table. When the hell did she have time to get up there?

“I’m not sure where I am, and I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go, but I left my mother to find more than the fate that was waiting for me if I stayed with her. I’m looking for an adventure! Haven’t any of you ever wanted that too? Even you!”

Din realizes she’s singled him out, and from behind his helmet, his face goes unexpectedly red.

The man to his right speaks up.

“When I was nine, I once dreamed of adventure too!”

Looking to his side, Din sees the drunk man completely in awe of his bounty’s improv monologue. What kind of bar has he stepped into?

Then he starts speaking.

“When I was younger, I told my parents I was going out to pick up a compressor at the market. By the time they realized I was gone, I was halfway off the planet with a ship me and my buddies hot-wired.”

Din is now the one staring. The entire bar is silent, and not the type of scared silence he’s used to. All of these patrons seem genuinely interested in whatever the hell is going on, and even his bounty is looking expectantly at the man talking.

“Needless to say, we didn’t get very far. We flew and flew until we ran out of resources and landed here, and the four of us lived off the land until we found settlement” he continues, and takes a sip of one of the drinks that was still unoccupied on the table from earlier. “That was years ago. My buddies are all gone, but every day I’m still happy I took that leap, because look where I am now!”

He widens his arms and looks around at the dirty establishment they were currently in.

Din can’t stay here any longer, so he pipes up.

“That’s very nice, but I came here to get her, and get out-“

“I lost all of my money because of gambling!”

You’ve got to be kidding.

The same voice goes on when murmurs of encouragement are scattered around the bar.

“My parents were rebel fighters, and I was next in line to be, too! That wasn’t my type of gig, though, so I skipped town and got really good at Sabacc. Not too good, though, because one game later I’m out on my feet, completely drained of everything! When I tried getting ahold of my parents, they were nowhere to be found. Down on my luck, I ventured out, and hey, what do ya know! I found some work on Bri’n.”

For the first time in his entire life, Din realizes he’s accidentally let go of his fist of his attacker. He realizes this not by being punched, but because the attacker starts talking about his dreams, too.

“I once wanted to run an outpost for-“

Nope, nope. Din has officially had enough.

“I don’t care,” he points to his asset. “You? Come with me. Let’s get you home.”

“So everyone can share their dreams, but as soon as it’s my turn, everyone’s gotta go?”

And because not a single moment in this situation can go normally, the attacker pulls a knife out and points it directly at Din.

“Do you really wanna test your odds when I have a blaster? Because I like my own.”

“What are you gonna do, Mando? Shoot me?”

Din wasn’t planning on shooting him, but he didn’t like being provoked, so he points the gun at his leg and pulls the trigger. This sends the drunkard into a fit of pain on the floor, and makes everyone turn away. The show was over. He turns to his bounty, and slides the gun back into the holster at his side.

“You ready to hit the road?”

He’s greeted with an empty chair.

Fuck.