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ja3yun · 16 days

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In Safe Hands

roommate!heejake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, dom!heeseung, softdom!jake (kinda), oral (m&f. rec), fingering, double pen, anal, squirting, mentions of choking, slapping (twice, not hard), spanking, spit, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut), pure filth, heejake eat reader out at the same time but that's about as mlm as it gets, not proof read, anything else lmk. w.c: 19.6k synopsis: your brother, sunghoon, has left you in the safe hands of his two best friends. little does he know that those 'safe' hands are about to be all over you. a/n: hi! okay this is pure smut, like basically a pwp atp. my beautiful bestie ruby @dollyyun, this one is for you! i wrote this entirely for all your horn needs <3 i hope you love it! as always, comments, reblogs, etc etc are all welcome! this isn't something i usually do but for ruby i will.

With a grunt of effort, your older brother hoists your bulky box of unread books up the narrow staircase, muscles straining against the weight. His face is set in a grimace, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he curses under his breath. “Why the hell did she pack so many books?” he mutters, breathless.

He knows he should be cursing his friends more than the weight of your belongings - they’re the ones who thought living on the top floor of a six-story building with no elevator was a brilliant idea. Then again, he should probably be cursing himself the most. It was his bright idea to suggest that you temporarily move in with his best friends Jake and Heeseung.

You and your brother, Sunghoon, are finally moving out of your parents' house. The desire for freedom, for space that doesn’t involve the relentless noise of your four younger siblings, has been simmering for years. At first, Sunghoon planned to move out alone, excited to claim his independence and a taste of solitude. But you weren’t about to let him escape so easily. You pleaded, over and over, wearing him down with promises that you wouldn’t be a burden, that you’d pay your share of the rent on time without fail, and that he’d barely even notice you were there.

And because Sunghoon has a massive soft spot for you, it wasn’t long before he caved.

But your earnest pleas and big doe eyes have created a bit of a problem. The one-bedroom flat Sunghoon initially secured for himself was definitely not equipped to house both of you. With no other option but to look for a larger place, Sunghoon is forced to start scouring the rental market again. Meanwhile, your parents, seizing the opportunity, quickly repurposed your old rooms. His room became your youngest brother’s new, much-coveted space, and yours was transformed into your mom’s long-awaited home office. The message was clear: they loved you both, but they were more than ready to reclaim their home. It was as if they were holding open the door with one hand and pushing you through it with the other. They wanted you out as badly as you wanted to leave.

The bond between you and Sunghoon has always been unbreakable. As the two eldest in a large family, you’ve naturally gravitated towards each other for support.

At 22, Sunghoon has always taken on the protective role, while you, at 20, have been his closest companion. With your other siblings much younger - at least a seven-year age gap between them and the two of you - there were countless moments when it felt like it was just the two of you against the world. The late-night talks, the inside jokes, the shared burden of babysitting - those memories have created an unspoken understanding that makes living together now seem natural, almost like slipping into a familiar rhythm.

And that’s how you’ve ended up here, in Sunghoon’s best friend’s tiny flat, your temporary refuge until Sunghoon manages to secure a new lease on a place that can fit you both. The apartment, perched at the very top of a creaking, century-old building, is barely big enough for its current occupants, let alone one more, but they insisted on helping.

Since this living arrangement is only temporary, there’s no point in unpacking your belongings just to repack them again in a few weeks. The result is a cramped, cluttered mess; the room looks more like a makeshift warehouse than a living space. Yet, neither of the boys seems particularly disgruntled by the chaos. If anything, they look almost amused as they manoeuvre around the piles of boxes.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Sunghoon stumbles into the flat, his breath ragged and his legs burning from the climb. He barely manages to get the door open before letting the heavy box of books drop at his feet with a dull thud. He bends forward, resting his hands on his knees as he takes a moment to catch his breath, sweat trickling down his temples.

His eyes scan the small living room, which is already in disarray. Jake and Heeseung are busy shifting their couch and other furniture around, trying to carve out a space for the mountain of boxes that have taken over their home.

“Thanks for letting her stay here, guys. I know it’s a big ask,” Sunghoon huffs out his appreciation, still slightly breathless. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and carefully climbs over a few stacked boxes to get closer to them. There’s sincerity in his voice, a touch of guilt too, knowing that his sister’s sudden arrival will most likely cause a tear in their normal routines.

Jake’s face lights up with his trademark bright smile, his eyes crinkling into happy crescents. He waves a hand dismissively as if brushing away any notion of inconvenience. “It’s no worries,” he replies, his tone warm and reassuring. “She’s always fun to have around.” His voice is genuine, and there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. It’s clear he means it, and it’s enough to ease some of the tension in Sunghoon’s shoulders.

Heeseung, who has been busy adjusting a leaning bookshelf against the wall, turns to face Sunghoon, a small grin upturning his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay here too?” he teases, tossing a can of beer toward Sunghoon in a slow, lazy arc.

Catching the can, Sunghoon replies with a soft chuckle, his fingers curling around the cold metal. He presses it against his cheek for a moment, savouring the coolness before cracking it open. “Nah, I’ve got Mars to crash with,” he replies, his voice softening slightly at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. While your only option was his friends’ crowded flat, he had a much more appealing alternative in his girlfriend’s place.

Jake’s laugh breaks the brief silence, a low and knowing chuckle that causes his shoulders to shake. “To fuck, you mean?” he quips, raising a single eyebrow with a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

The boy shrugs and takes a long gulp of his beer, giving an unrepentant gesture. "Either way, it's a bed, isn't it?" he replies, his mouth twisting into a relaxed grin. "Plus, I don't really want Y/N to hear me shaking the house, if you know what I mean.." His tone of voice is light, playful, yet his eyes are filled with slight horror at the thought.

He loves you - he truly does - but he and Mars seldom have undisturbed time together, and the idea of enjoying a few weeks without frequent interruptions is too appealing to pass up. The thought of you crashing on a mattress in the living room while her bedframe taps repeatedly against the wall makes him quiver. That’s a level of sibling intimacy he’s sure neither of you wants to reach.

“Oh, so you’re alright with her hearing us?” Jake's eyes gleam with mischief, clearly enjoying how easily he can rile up his friend. He leans back against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for the inevitable comeback.

Setting his beer down, Sunghoon turns to face him fully, his expression suddenly serious. “As long as you keep it to her hearing it and nothing else,” he replies sharply, his voice carrying a warning edge. The room falls into a brief, awkward silence that Jake breaks with a chuckle, amused by Sunghoon’s protective streak. But Sunghoon’s gaze doesn’t waver, and he leans forward, his voice dropping to a low tone. “I’m serious. If either of you so much as touch her, I will personally saw your cocks off with rocks.”

Jake’s laugh dies in his throat, replaced by a wary smile. He exchanges a glance with Heeseung, who gives him a knowing look, a silent conversation between them before collecting themselves.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Heeseung reassures him, his voice calm and measured. “Y/N’s a good girl anyway.” He nods as he speaks, trying to diffuse the tension but a flicker of spark as he calls you a good girl flashes in his iris’.

“Yeah, she knows better than to jump on Hee’s infested cock,” Jake quips with a smart-ass grin, dispelling the weird aura that this conversation has brought between the three of them. The words spill out effortlessly, taking jabs at his best friend comes so naturally, and Heeseung’s face twists in sarcastic offence.

“At least girls wanna fuck me, huh, Mister ‘it’s been three weeks’,” Heeseung shoots back without missing a beat, his voice dripping with mock pity. He leans closer to Jake, nudging him playfully with his elbow. The banter between them escalates, their voices overlapping as they trade jabs like two kids in a schoolyard. The energy in the room is electric, charged with the sort of camaraderie that comes from knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

“Shut the fu-”

“Guys, both of you shut up.” Sunghoon’s tone is commanding, the kind of no-nonsense voice that instantly demands attention as he cuts through their back-and-forth nips. Jake and Heeseung fall silent, their grins fading as they see his serious gaze. “I’m serious. No touching my sister,” Sunghoon continues, each word deliberate and heavy. “End of story.”

Jake and Heeseung exchange a quick look, and like schoolchildren caught red-handed, they nod in unison, their earlier bravado slipping away. “Alright, alright, we get it,” Jake finally says, raising his hands in surrender, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face. “Message received, man.”

Heeseung doesn’t say a word, instead looking down, his mind deep in contemplation as he bites his lip.

Sunghoon watches them for a moment longer, his stare sharp and unwavering, before he finally relaxes, picking up his beer again. He takes a long, slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe the heat still coursing through his body. “Good,” he mutters, but there’s a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips now. “Just making sure.”

Your footsteps echo in the narrow corridor as you trudge up the stairs, carrying a small box that is featherweight compared to the heavy one your brother had just hauled up not five minutes ago. As you step inside, Jake spots you and immediately rushes over, kicking some stray bags out of your path to clear the way. “Watch yourself, pretty,” he says with a playful grin.

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you reply with a smile, your tone warm and appreciative. His use of the sudden nickname causes a faint blush to creep up your cheeks, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You’re used to Jake’s harmless flirting, it’s just part of who he is, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t catch you off guard from time to time. There's always a momentary flutter in your chest whenever he turns that easy charm on you, and this time is no different.

As you hand the box over to him, your fingers graze his, a brief touch that sends a spark through your skin but you quickly shake it off, stepping away from him as he stacks the box on top of others.

You take a moment to survey your surroundings. Though you’ve been in this flat more times than you have fingers, the knowledge that it’s now going to be your home for the next few weeks makes you see it from a completely different perspective.

The guys have definitely made an effort to clean; the place looks more put together than usual if you take away your abundance of bags and boxes, but there’s a strange vibe hanging in the air. It's an odd mix of familiarity and uncertainty. You’ve only ever been here as a guest, mostly to watch movies with your brother, his girlfriend, and the two tenants. But now, you’ll be doing everything here - sleeping, showering, studying - things you never imagined doing under this roof.

It doesn’t help that you wouldn’t exactly call yourself close with both of them, well, with Jake, maybe you could consider yourselves friendly. He always goes out of his way to make you feel welcome whenever you visit. If you need an extra blanket, he’s there with one almost before you can ask. If you’re in the mood for tea or coffee, Jake seems to magically appear with a steaming mug in hand. There’s a warmth to him, a natural generosity that makes you feel at ease, even if he turns the situation horny in 0.2 seconds. He's got a knack for toeing the line between friendly and flirty, but somehow it never crosses into uncomfortable territory. Instead, it just makes the atmosphere a little lighter, a little more fun.

Heeseung, on the other hand, is a bit more of a mystery. He’s always been somewhat reserved around you, distant even. Not cold, exactly, but certainly not as openly friendly as Jake. You’ve never taken it personally, though. You know he isn’t the type to shower people with affection or heap on praise. He’s more of an observer, the kind who stands on the outskirts of the chaos, quietly taking it all in rather than diving into the fray. There’s a calmness to him that can feel almost intimidating, but there’s also a sense of steadiness that you find strangely comforting. Still, the idea of sharing a space with someone who keeps to himself so much leaves you wondering how the dynamics might shift now that you’ll be living under the same roof.

“You got many more bags?” Heeseung asks, his voice carrying curiosity as he glances over at you.

“Uh, two more?” you reply, slightly sheepish.

Sunghoon sighs, clearly exasperated. “I told you to pack light for now,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. To be fair, you might have overpacked just a smidge and not listened to him when he told you to only bring necessary things with you to the new house and toss out the rest, but the last thing you want is to be caught without something important - hence the extra bags.

“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” Heeseung offers, his tone matter-of-fact.

“I can help,” you quickly volunteer, not wanting to seem like a burden, but he simply shakes his head, already turning toward the stairs. Without another word, he jogs down the steps to retrieve the remaining bags, his long strides making quick work of the descent. You watch him go, a grateful smile tugging at your lips because you know for a fact that those last two bags are the heaviest - you probably should have told him that.

As you stand there, Jake drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side, his touch light but familiar. “We’ll have the best time, huh?” he says with a grin, his voice full of easy confidence.

You look up at him, matching his smile as you offer him a half-hug in return. “For sure,” you reply, feeling a bit of your earlier anxiety melt away. Jake has always had a way of making you feel at ease, his energy infectious in the best possible way.

Sunghoon, however, can’t help but notice the physical contact, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches Jake’s arm around you. He doesn’t say anything, though; he knows Jake well enough to understand that this kind of skinship is just part of who he is. Too many times has Sunghoon been on the receiving end of Jake’s clinginess, so he lets it slide, albeit with a small sigh of resignation.

A moment later, Heeseung appears at the bottom of the final flight of stairs, grunting softly as he makes his way back up, each step slow and deliberate under the weight of your bags. His muscles strain visibly beneath his t-shirt, the fabric stretching tight across his shoulders and arms. “Did you pack a dead body in here?” he huffs, finally reaching the top and setting the bags down with a heavy thud. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, his lean, strong frame clearly pushed to its limits by the sheer weight.

Even as he exhales, his muscles begin to relax, but your eyes are drawn to the way the veins still protrude along his forearms, winding like thick cords beneath his skin. His biceps, now flexed from the exertion, stand out in sharp relief, the definition in his arms a testament to his strength. It’s clear that Heeseung is no stranger to physical labour - his body is built for it - but even he seems momentarily winded by the effort, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

You aren’t oblivious to how attractive Heeseung is, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ever since Sunghoon first introduced you to his friends, you’ve been aware of the magnetic pull both of them seem to have on you. And honestly, who wouldn’t feel that way? Jake, with his effortless charm and eyes so dreamy they could melt stone, has a way of drawing you in without even trying.

Then there’s Heeseung - tall and broad, with a quiet confidence that radiates off him in waves. His smile, rare as it is, sends your heart into a wild spin whenever you’re lucky enough to see it. There’s something about his reserved nature, the way he watches the room with those sharp eyes, that makes him even more intriguing.

As he straightens up, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, there’s a brief moment where you catch yourself staring, fascinated by the raw power in his frame but the slight cracks from his shoulders speak volumes, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for making him carry such a heavy load.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice sincere as you meet his eyes, hoping to convey just how much you appreciate his help. He simply nods, brushing it off as no big deal, and there’s a slight, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth.

Bending down, you reach for one of the bags to help out, wanting to ease some of the burden. But before you can get a grip on it, Jake swoops in and grabs it first. You watch as he lifts it, his arm muscles flexing with the effort. You can see him struggle with the weight, his smile faltering for just a second but Jake being Jake, tries to play it off with his usual nonchalance, shrugging the bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of the other one.

“If you take the other handle, you can help me carry it and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, flashing you that familiar grin that always seems to promise mischief and fun.

You smile back and nod, stepping in to grab the other handle. The two of you share the load and together, you manoeuvre down the narrow hallway, leaving Sunghoon and Heeseung behind.

With your back turned you miss the subtle flicker of annoyance that crosses Heeseung’s face as he watches you giggle over something Jake just said. His jaw tightens, and he shifts his weight slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning away. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, a mix of frustration and something else.

Sunghoon, however, catches the change in his friend’s expression. Turning to Heeseung, he looks dead serious, his usual relaxed demeanour replaced with a steely resolve. “Look after her, yeah?” he says, his voice low but firm. “I trust you more than Jake with this, don’t do something stupid.”

Your brother isn’t distrusting of Jake, but you’re easily swayed and Jake has a smooth tongue, he can’t help but imagine the two of you under the same roof and what could happen. And Heeseung, even if that look gave Sunghoon a reason to be concerned, would know better than to touch you.

“Don’t worry,” Heeseung replies, his voice steady. “She’s in safe hands.” There’s a weight behind his words, something that Sunghoon misses entirely.

It’s not Jake he should be worried about.

_____

The past three weeks have been nothing short of incredible. The newfound freedom from your parents has made you feel like a new person. There’s a weight lifted off your shoulders that you hadn’t realised was there until it was gone.

Living with Jake and Heeseung has been refreshing; they respect your privacy in a way that you’re not used to. They don’t bombard you with a million questions about where you’ve been or why you’re going out at odd hours of the night, unlike your parents, who seem to hover over your every move, they trust you to make your own choices.

Jake, in particular, brings a lightness to the flat that you’ve grown to adore. His infectious humour seems to brighten up even the dullest of days. He has a way of pulling you out of your shell with his playful teasing and silly antics. But then, there’s his flirting - relentless and almost too easy. It’s always just on the line of being harmless fun, but lately, you’ve noticed your chest fluttering whenever he’s around. Like the time he’d cornered you in the kitchen, grinning as he leaned in close under the pretence of grabbing something from the cabinet behind you. Or that morning when he "accidentally" walked into your room while you were changing, only to stand there gawking at your tits before insisting on making you breakfast to make up for it. You’ve tried to play it cool, but his attention has started to make your heart race, and you can’t help but wonder if he notices.

Heeseung, however, is a different story. While he has been welcoming enough, there’s a strange awkwardness between you two that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not that he’s unfriendly or cold, just...distant. You’ve racked your brain trying to figure out why. There’s no clear reason for it, so you’ve concluded that it’s probably because you’re invading his space. After all, the idea of doing Sunghoon a favour by letting his little sister crash here is probably better in theory than in practice.

You’re aware that Heeseung’s never lived with a girl before; maybe it’s just a bit of an adjustment for him. Perhaps he’s not used to the softer touches around the flat, like your skincare bottles lining the bathroom shelf or your fluffy slippers by the door. So, you’ve been careful to keep your distance, to not get in his way or make him feel uncomfortable. The last thing you want is to be a bother to him when he’s being so kind and giving up his own room for you, sharing a bedroom with Jake to accommodate your presence.

On Thursday evening, you come home from your shift at the cafe, tired but content. As you slip off your shoes, you notice only one other pair at the door. That’s strange, by this time, both Jake and Heeseung are usually back home, lounging around or playing video games.

Turning the corner, your breath catches in your throat. Heeseung is there, sitting on the edge of the couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His chest is bare, revealing a toned, lean physique that you hadn't seen up close before. His skin is tanned and smooth, glistening slightly because he’s just stepped out of the shower.

Your eyes trace the faint lines of his abs, the way they ripple subtly as he moves. Below his navel, a small trail of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his joggers, and you find yourself staring for a moment longer than you should, teeth instinctively biting the skin of your bottom lip. The sight is unexpectedly intimate, almost like you’ve walked in on something private, and your cheeks heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name, or rather, simply don’t wish to acknowledge.

“Hey,” his voice is gruff, indicating that he hasn’t spoken in a while. His tone is low, almost raspy, sending a small shiver down your spine. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and his eyes stay fixed on you, waiting. “How was work?”

Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice you at first, busy towelling off his damp pink hair, but when he looks up and catches your eye, there’s a brief flash of surprise on his face.

For a second, neither of you moves. His gaze holds yours, and you feel pinned under the weight of it, your heart thudding in your chest. Then, his eyebrows raise in a twitch and he nods at you in acknowledgement.

The conversation is trivial and bland and you expect it from Heeseung, considering this is how every interaction between you both has gone since living together. But right now, with the godly sight in front of you, your mouth feels dry, and you find it incredibly hard to piece together words for an answer that don’t include the filthy thoughts racing through your mind. Your gaze flickers over his bare torso again, lingering on the way his abs subtly flex with each breath, the light sheen of water still clinging to his skin.

It doesn’t help that you’re ovulating. That’s probably why you’re acting so feral over a man’s body right now. But then again, this isn’t just any man - this is Lee Heeseung. He’s perfect in every way, from his strong jawline and pretty nose to his long, kissable neck and the faint v-line that disappears into his sweatpants. Your eyes trail lower, curiosity burning within you. You’d love to expand further on your thoughts about him if only you knew what you were working with, but your imagination will have to suffice for now.

When you don’t respond right away, Heeseung’s expression shifts slightly. He leaves the towel on the couch, his eyes narrowing with concern, and takes a few steps closer to you. The sudden proximity sends your heart into overdrive, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his presence electric. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks softly, his voice more gentle now, laced with genuine worry. “Did something happen?”

You snap back to reality, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the haze of your thoughts. Your cheeks flush, and you clear your throat, hoping he can’t read your mind. “Oh, uh - yeah, I’m fine!” you finally stammer out, forcing a smile. “Work was just...busy, I guess. A lot of orders today.”

Of course, Heeseung is dubious of your sudden stuttering, wondering what on earth has gotten into you. Then, for a split second, your pupils dart to his chest then back to his face, and that is all the clues he needs to conclude his thoughts. You’re nervous.

He would never dare tell Sunghoon that he’s been wishing for this moment for the past year. He was so eager to have you stay, thinking that it would be different from how it has turned out; Heeseung was going to use the opportunity to get close to you, figure out your opinions on him and see what he could capitalise on in an effort to make you crumble beneath him. He didn’t exactly need forever with you, one night of you screaming his name would suffice.

Heeseung isn’t one to walk around without a shirt on, so seeing him like this is a rare and unexpected sight. You've never seen him this way before, and it's clear that he never anticipated how much it would affect you.

Normally, you’ve shown little interest, or at least you’ve managed to hide it well. But now, standing before him with your eyes betraying a flicker of something more, Heeseung feels a strange excitement building in his chest, hammering away with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

But that changed once Sunghoon shot that warning look, even fearless Jake was momentarily quaking at the intense gaze of his eyes. Still, you’ve also made it impossible for him to get close.

Though ever the opportunist, Heeseung spots an opening right now, any concerns about Sunghoon’s threats out the window as he looks into your wide, pretty eyes.

A slow, teasing smirk tugs at his lips, and he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even more. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, velvety tone that sends a wave of heat crashing over you. “You look a little flustered.”

You swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “I’m fine,” you insist, but it comes out a little breathless, betraying the effect he’s having on you. God, why is he so fucking hot?

Heeseung’s eyes narrow playfully, and he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “If I didn’t know any better,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing your skin, “I’d say you were distracted.” His hand reaches out, fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver through you.

You don’t know how to handle this side of him. Heeseung is usually reserved, his words careful and measured. But now, there’s a boldness to him - a confidence that makes your stomach flutter. Flustered and overwhelmed, you decide it’s best to retreat before you embarrass yourself further. “I-I’m going to get ready for bed.” You turn on your heel, ready to escape to the safety of your room.

But before you can take another step, Heeseung’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist firmly but gently. He pulls you back toward him, his eyes dark and searching. “Why do you do that?” he asks, his voice suddenly serious.

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “Do what?”

“Avoid me,” he clarifies, his tone both curious and frustrated. “You’re always so keen to talk to Jake, but when it’s me, you just…scurry off.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind scrambling for an explanation. You shake your head, trying to appear calm. “It’s not what you think.”

Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of playful challenge and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. “It’s not?” he repeats, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly. “Because I’m starting to think you might not like me.”

His words are teasing, but there’s a shadow of insecurity in his stare, a hint that he might be more serious than he’s letting on. Your heart aches at the thought that he might feel unwanted or disliked. You shake your head vehemently. “No, not at all,” you rush to say, your voice soft. “It’s just…you’re so quiet and distant with me. I thought maybe you saw me as a burden, like I was getting in your way or something. So I just, find it better to stay away.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows in confusion, clearly taken aback by your words. He seems to be processing what you said, his mind sifting through memories of the past few weeks. Was he cold to you? He hadn’t thought so but maybe all those times hiding in his room when you were watching TV with Jake, giggling and happy as you both shared inside jokes, or how he purposefully left early to give you time to have a shower without the worry of his presence, gave you an impression he didn’t want to leave.

His eyes search yours as if he’s seeing you for the first time in weeks. You lick your lips nervously, and he notices the way your pupils are blown wide, a hint of want flickering in them. The knowing hits him like a wave, giving him the courage to say what he’s been holding back for so long. Heeseung leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours as he speaks, “Do you know why I do that? Keep my distance?”

“Why?” you whisper, your breath hitching.

“Because I’m trying so hard to control myself around you,” he admits, his voice low and rough with desire. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged. Before you can fully process them, he presses his body against yours, backing you up until you’re pinned between him and the wall. His spare hand comes up to steady you, fingers splayed across your waist, and you feel the firm, unmistakable press of his member against your stomach.

Your breath catches in your throat, your entire body buzzing with electricity. His gaze is locked on yours, his expression intense and hungry, waiting for any sign of rejection or acceptance from you. When you don’t pull away, his lips curl into a smirk, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “You have no idea how hard it’s been,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, “to keep my hands off you.”

You shiver, your body responding to his words in a way that leaves you breathless, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. “Then don’t,” you murmur, your voice barely audible but carrying all the weight of your desires. Would Sunghoon kill you both for this? Yes. But are you clouded with the thought of getting fucked by the man in front of you? Abso-fucking-lty.

Heeseung’s resolve snaps the moment he catches the glint of desire in your eyes, raw and unmistakable. He doesn’t hesitate; his hand grips your face with a roughness that sends a shiver down your spine, dragging you in as his lips crash into yours with an intensity that’s anything but careful. There’s nothing gentle about it - his kiss is fierce, almost aggressive, fueled by pent-up lust that he’s no longer bothering to control, any thoughts about Sunghoon and his warning gone from his mind.

His mouth moves against yours in a frenzy, urgent and demanding, as if he’s trying to devour you whole. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. He tastes like heat and desperation, and you meet him with equal fervour, your tongues tangling in a messy dance of want. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging slightly, almost punishingly, before his mouth slants over yours again, deeper, harder.

Your hands slide up his torso, fingers skimming over the slight ridges of his abs, and he groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a surge of heat straight to your core. You’re clawing at him now, nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Heeseung’s grip on you tightens, his fingers pressing into your waist with bruising force, anchoring you in place as he pours every ounce of his hunger into the kiss.

He presses his body against yours, his arousal evident as his hips grind into you, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach. He’s not holding back anymore, and the feel of him so close, so ready, only makes you more desperate. You arch into him, letting out a small, breathy moan that seems to spur him on. His lips move to your jaw, biting and sucking a path down to your neck, leaving marks that he knows will linger, and you’re gasping, fingers tangled in his hair as you tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his voice thick with need. “You drive me crazy. Do you know that?”

Heeseung’s breathing is ragged, hot against your skin as his mouth trails back up, capturing your lips again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and unrestrained. He shifts his grip, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them roughly before he hoists you up with ease. Your legs wrap around him, locking tight as he manoeuvres you toward the bedroom you’re currently occupying. The journey is a blur of heated kisses and frantic touches, your nails scraping along his shoulders and arms, urging him on.

He barely pauses as he reaches the bedroom door, booting it open with a forceful kick. The door slams against the wall, but he doesn’t care; he’s too far gone, driven by pure, primal need. With a growl, he tosses you onto the bed, not bothering to be gentle. You bounce slightly on the mattress, the impact sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

Heeseung climbs on top of you, his body pressing you down into the sheets. There’s a wild, almost feral look in his eyes, darkened with lust as he stares down at you. He’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense with barely restrained desire, and you can feel the weight of it in the air, thick and charged.

“I need to ruin you,” Heeseung breathes, his voice low, gravelly, and trembling on the edge of a plea and a command. His words are both a question and a demand, and the sheer hunger in his tone sends a shiver coursing through your entire body. “Please, let me ruin you.”

Though he poses the question, he doesn’t give you time to answer; his lips crash into yours with renewed urgency, kissing you with an almost punishing force. It’s all teeth, tongue, and desperation, and you moan into his mouth, matching his intensity, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough. His hands roam your body with rough, greedy touches, fingers digging into your hips, your waist, everywhere he can reach as if he’s memorising the feel of you under his hands so he can sculpt you out of clay at a later date.

His hips grind into yours, and you gasp at the hard, insistent press of him against your core. Heeseung catches the sound, and his lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk against your mouth. “God, you’re so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction and barely restrained lust.

Without warning, he grabs the hem of your top, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion. The fabric catches briefly, but he doesn’t care, he just rips it away, tossing it aside with a growl of impatience. Your bra is next, his fingers hooking under the straps and pulling until the clasp snaps open. He doesn’t bother being gentle, practically tearing it off you, and then he pauses, eyes locked on your bare chest.

“Fuck,” Heeseung breathes, his gaze shamelessly ogling your breasts, drinking in the sight of you with a hunger that makes your heart race. “You’re perfect.” The way he looks at you - like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him - makes heat pool low in your belly.

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth, capturing one of your nipples between his lips with a sudden, rough intensity. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, hot and wet, before he sucks hard, drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches instinctively. The contrast between the softness of his lips, the roughness of his tongue, and the sharp bite of his teeth has you moaning his name, each sensation driving you wild.

“Heeseung, fuck-” you gasp, your voice breaking as he switches between sucking, licking, and lightly nipping at your sensitive skin. Each movement sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you buck your hips up into his, desperate for more friction, more of him, everywhere.

Heeseung’s free hand slides down your body, fingers trailing over your heated skin, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping beneath. His touch is bold, impatient, and he doesn’t waste time, finding your folds with practised ease. The moment his fingers make contact, you both let out a sharp gasp. You’re wet, slick with arousal, and the feel of you against his fingers is enough to make him groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your nipple as he continues to work you with his mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a rough, breathless whisper. “All this for me?”

His fingers dip into your folds, sliding through your slickness with an agonizingly slow, deliberate motion that leaves you breathless. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you can feel the heat building, your core tightening as his fingers tease your entrance. Heeseung’s thumb brushes over your clit, drawing a strangled moan from your lips, and he groans in response, the sound low and primal.

He keeps one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he slowly pushes a finger inside you, feeling you stretch and clench around him. You’re so tight, so hot, and the feeling of his finger sliding in and out, curling to hit that perfect spot, has your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The combined sensation of his mouth tugging on your sensitive nipple and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much to bear.

“Heeseung, please,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as you grind against his fingers, needing more, needing everything. The relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his tongue circles and flicks your nipple, has you on the edge, your entire body buzzing with electric heat.

Heeseung’s teeth graze your nipple, biting down just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure and pain through you, and you cry out, hips jerking up as your body seeks more contact, more friction. “You like that?” he rasps, his voice thick with need. “The way I’m making you feel?”

All you can do is moan in response, every nerve in your body alight with the need to be filled, touched, consumed. His fingers slide deeper, curling against your most sensitive spot, and he pulls your nipple with his teeth, sending a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing through you. It’s raw, it’s overwhelming, and you can feel yourself unravelling under his touch, driven by the pure, primal lust that courses between you both.

"Please, Heeseung, faster..." you moan breathlessly, your voice breaking with need as your eyes flutter shut. You let yourself drown in the sensations, feeling every curl of his fingers inside of you, the way they press and drag against your walls with deliberate precision. The pleasure is dizzying, your body tensing and writhing in rhythm with each thrust of his hand.

Heeseung’s mouth finally detaches from your nipple, the cool air against your wet skin sending a shiver through you as he brings his face up, so close that his breath fans over your lips. His eyes are dark, charged with lust and something almost predatory, and the sight only fuels the fire burning inside you. “Can you handle it, angel?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing mockery that makes your skin prickle.

“Yeah...” you pant, shamelessly meeting his gaze, a wild smile spreading across your face. “Go as rough as you want. You wanted to ruin me, right?”

It’s a challenge, and one he’s more than willing to accept. Heeseung’s expression shifts instantly, his entire demeanour hardening with a new, unrestrained intensity. His fingers move faster, plunging into you with renewed vigour as his thumb finds your clit, circling it in tight, relentless motions that have your thighs trembling. The sudden increase in pace sends your senses spiralling, your body arching up to meet every thrust, every swipe of his thumb against your swollen bud. It’s as if you’re floating, weightless, caught in a whirlwind of pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You can’t control the way your body moves with his hand, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat that’s building in your core. Nothing is enough; you need more, need him deeper, harder, faster. Heeseung notices your desperation, the way you’re writhing beneath him, your hips rolling and grinding into his touch, and he smirks, a dark and knowing look flashing in his eyes.

“You’re such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he scoffs, his tone mocking but laced with the kind of filthy affection that makes your entire body quiver. The words send a shock of heat straight through you, and you can’t help the loud, unabashed moan that escapes your lips. His fingers curl inside you, pressing into the perfect spot, and your entire body convulses, thighs trembling as his touch sends you higher.

“Heeseung!” you mewl, your voice breaking in pure happiness, pleasure dancing through your veins. The way his fingers stretch you, three of them now pushing inside, filling you, twisting and curling as his thumb continues to work your clit, is mind-numbing. The steady, relentless pace of his movements combined with the filthy words pouring from his mouth has you seeing stars.

“Oh, you like being called a slut, huh?” Heeseung taunts, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he watches you unravel beneath him. Your response, the way your body responds to his every touch and word, only spurs him on, feeding into the raw, carnal energy between you.

Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, so close that you can feel every word as he whispers them. His teeth sink into your earlobe, rough and possessive, and the sharp sting makes you yelp, the sound quickly dissolving into a breathy moan. “What if I started calling you my pretty slut, huh?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with ownership.

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an intensity that sends a fresh rush of arousal pooling between your thighs. You feel it, slick and hot, running past his fingers and down your ass cheek, coating you in the evidence of just how much you want this, how much you want him.

“God, Heeseung,” you gasp, your hips bucking wildly against his hand, desperate and unashamed. His fingers pump into you faster, curling with each thrust, hitting all the right spots that make your mind go blank. You’re lost in the overwhelming sensation, every nerve alight with the tight, twisting pleasure that coils inside you, winding tighter and tighter until you’re right on the edge, ready to snap.

“You’re soaking me,” he teases, his voice low and rough, edged with dark amusement as he feels the fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers. “You really do like being called mine, don’t you?”

Your body answers him before you do, your back arching, and you nod eagerly, biting your lip to suppress the needy moans that threaten to spill out. You’re so close, so achingly close to that release, the familiar knot of pleasure inside you tightening with each movement of his hand. But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Heeseung shifts his body, his fingers slowing down, easing up on their relentless pace, and the knot inside you begins to unravel, pulling you back from the brink.

Your eyes snap open, frustration flashing across your face as Heeseung shakes his head, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “You need to use your words, or else I’ll stop,” he warns, his tone firm and commanding. “Understand?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, Heeseung withdraws his thumb from your clit and presses his palm flat against it instead, the sudden change making you cry out. The weight of his hand on your sensitive nub sends jolts of pleasure sparking through you, but it’s not enough - it's maddeningly close, yet just shy of the friction you need. You try to move, to grind against his palm, but Heeseung holds you down, his strength keeping your hips pinned as he presses his hand more firmly against your pulsing clit.

The rough texture of his skin brushing against your sensitive flesh without the full contact you crave is enough to make you squirm in frustration. You look up at him, your eyes pleading, but Heeseung’s gaze is expectant, patient, and utterly dominant as he watches you, waiting for you to obey him.

“Fuck, yes, yes! I’ll use my words,” you gasp, your voice high and trembling with need. You’re teetering on the brink of losing control, and the need to reach your peak overrides every ounce of pride. “Now please, Heeseung, make me cum.”

Heeseung’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he hears you beg, your desperation feeding his ego. “See? Was that so hard?” he mocks, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. His fingers resume their movement, thrusting into you with renewed vigour, but this time there’s no hesitation, no teasing. He’s relentless, driving his fingers deep and fast, scissoring and curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

His thumb returns to your clit, circling with precise, punishing speed, and the friction is immediate and overwhelming. The knot inside you tightens rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s a white-hot ball of pleasure, ready to explode. Your entire body moves in sync with his hand, hips rolling and grinding as you chase the friction, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity.

“God, yes, Heeseung!” you cry out, your voice breaking as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, the pressure inside you reaching its peak. Heeseung watches you with a fierce, unyielding intensity, his eyes never leaving your face as he works you over that final threshold.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he feels you tightening around him, your entire body trembling. “Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

His words are the final push you need, and you shatter, pleasure ripping through you in powerful, uncontrollable waves. Your vision blurs and your entire body tenses as you cum hard around his fingers, each pulse sending shockwaves of bliss through your veins. Heeseung doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their relentless pace, drawing out every ounce of your climax until you’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

You’re barely aware of anything but the overwhelming sensation as your orgasm crashes over you, drowning out everything else. The tight coil of pleasure finally snaps, leaving you gasping and spent, your body still twitching in the aftermath as Heeseung slows his movements, easing you down gently from your high.

You’re left panting, completely undone, and Heeseung’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes dark and full of pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, savouring the way you shudder at the loss, and he smirks, bringing them up to his lips. Heeseung licks them clean, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you, and the sight is enough to send another shiver down your spine.

“You did so well,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice thick with a twisted mix of pride and possessiveness. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's slower now but still burning with heat, and you melt into it, savoring the lingering buzz of your orgasm coursing through you. His mouth is unyielding against yours, claiming, almost as if he’s staking his territory on your lips. He pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes hooded and dark. “But we aren’t done,” he growls, the words dripping with intent that sends a fresh pulse of arousal through your core.

Heeseung's hands are on you instantly, grabbing the waistband of your bottoms and yanking them down, taking your underwear along in one swift, almost impatient motion. There’s no care in the way he tosses them aside, as if the only thing that matters is having you bare and exposed in front of him. The cool air hits your damp skin, and you shiver, every nerve ending alight as you lie there completely vulnerable under his predatory gaze.

Heeseung’s eyes roam over you, dark and hungry, lingering on every curve, every inch of your flushed skin. There’s a flicker of something wild in his expression, something that makes your heart race as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands move to his own waist, dipping into his grey sweats, and he pushes them down, revealing himself inch by agonizing inch. When his cock finally springs free, you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.

He’s even more than you imagined - thick, veined, and curving up just right, flushed a deep, enticing pink that makes your mouth water. At least seven inches, standing proud and heavy against his stomach, and the sight alone has your thighs clenching with anticipation. You can almost feel it already, dragging against your walls, filling you so perfectly that your empty core aches in response.

Heeseung notices the way your eyes are glued to him, the shameless hunger written all over your face, and his lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Like what you see, huh?” he taunts, his tone low and laced with mocking arrogance as he wraps a hand around his length, stroking himself slowly. His cock twitches in his grip, precum beading at the tip and dribbling down, and the sight makes your breath hitch.

“Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice filled with desperate need. You’re aching to feel him inside you, to have that perfect thickness stretching you open, but Heeseung doesn’t move, content to watch you squirm. Your hips shift on the bed, trying to relieve the unbearable emptiness, but he just tightens his grip on his cock, refusing to give you what you so clearly crave.

“You’re fucking shameless,” he mocks, his voice dripping with condescension. He runs the head of his cock teasingly through your slick folds, not quite pushing in, just enough to make you shiver. “Dripping all over my cock.”

You shudder, the tip of him nudging against your entrance, teasing but not quite entering, and it’s maddening. “Please, Heeseung, fucking move,” you beg, barely able to keep your voice steady. Your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn’t budge, relishing every second of your desperation.

“What’s the rush, huh?” he says, feigning innocence, though his voice is edged with a dark, sadistic thrill. “Thought you wanted me to ruin you?”

His words hang in the air, taunting, and your body responds on instinct, your hips bucking up, trying to force him deeper. Heeseung lets you feel the head of his cock press in just a little more, but then he pulls back, chuckling darkly as you whine in frustration. The teasing is almost too much, and the smirk on his face tells you he’s enjoying every second of your torment.

“Fuck, please,” you plead, every ounce of pride gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered need. “I need it so bad, Heeseung.”

Finally, he seems satisfied, and his smirk fades into something darker, more feral. “That’s more like it,” he growls, and in one smooth motion, he pushes forward, his cock sinking into you inch by agonising inch. The stretch is perfect, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely, and you gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of him dragging against your insides.

Heeseung doesn’t wait - doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pulls back and slams into you again, the force making the bed creak and your breath hitch. It’s rough and relentless, the curve of his cock hitting all the right spots, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. Your nails dig into his back, trying to anchor yourself, but Heeseung is unyielding, setting a punishing rhythm that leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he pants, his voice rough and laced with mockery as he watches you unravel beneath him. “So fucking desperate. How long have you wanted this?”

His words make you clench tighter around him, your body responding to his taunts in a way that makes your cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal. Heeseung notices, and he chuckles, low and dark, leaning in close enough that his breath brushes your ear.

“Tell me,” he growls, his tone edged with a threat that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “Use those words, or I’ll get them out of you.”

A wicked idea sparks in your mind, and instead of answering, you clamp your mouth shut, biting down on your lip to keep any sounds from escaping. You look up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance and smirk. The challenge in your gaze is unmistakable, and you see something dark and feral flicker in Heeseung’s eyes as he realizes what you’re doing.

Heeseung loves submissive partners - loves when they give in to him completely. But there’s something about a brat, something about the way they fight back, that lets him unleash everything he’s got. And the way you’re looking at him now, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, makes his blood pump with a mixture of lust and exhilaration.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he snarls, the dangerous edge in his voice making your heart race. Without warning, his hand moves up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with an almost brutal grip. His hand is big, easily encompassing your throat, and the pressure he applies makes his veins pop, the sight of them making your breath hitch.

Heeseung squeezes, and your airways constrict, your eyes widening as you feel the breath leaving your lungs. “You’re gonna want to gasp for air soon,” he taunts, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your core.

The lack of air combined with the relentless thrust of his cock deep inside you creates a dizzying, intoxicating sensation. Your brain starts to feel lighter, like you’re floating, and the world around you blurs as the pressure in your throat increases. You can still breathe—just barely - but the tiny gasps you manage through your nose aren’t enough, leaving you light-headed and playing a dangerous game.

And fuck, do you love it.

Heeseung’s grip tightens even more, cutting off your air completely, and your body thrums with a heady mix of fear and arousal. You’re drowning in the feeling of him everywhere - his cock driving into you, his hand choking the life out of you, and the overwhelming intensity of it all sends you spiralling into a blissful, euphoric state.

Your body goes slack beneath him, every muscle relaxed as you give in to the sensation, the lack of oxygen making everything else sharper, more intense. Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in, but you hold onto the pleasure, focusing on the way his cock drags against your walls, filling you so perfectly that it almost hurts.

Heeseung watches you closely, the way your lips part in a desperate attempt to take in air, the way your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the haze. He knows you’re close, knows that the combination of his rough treatment and the lack of air is pushing you to your limit.

“God, you’re such a greedy little slut,” he hisses, thrusting harder, and you arch up into him, every nerve ending buzzing with electric pleasure. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

You’re too far gone to respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, each thrust rougher than the last. Your mind is hazy, clouded with lust, and all you can do is moan his name, your body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust.

Heeseung’s grip loosens from your throat, and you suck in a desperate gasp of air, your lungs burning with the sudden rush of oxygen. The pace of his thrusts is relentless, brutal, and all-consuming, driving you closer and closer to the precipice. Your world is reduced to the slick, punishing rhythm of his cock inside you, the tight coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion, when Heeseung’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” he taunts, his tone ragged and dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Do it. Cum for me, and let everyone know how much you love getting fucked like this.”

As if by magic, Heeseung’s words come to fruition and as the last word leaves his mouth, Jake is standing frozen in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and something heat-provoking. He shouldn’t be here - shouldn’t be seeing this - but there’s no stopping himself, the way his eyes linger on you, on the way your body arches and moves under Heeseung’s control. His jaw is slack, lips slightly parted as he struggles to process the scene in front of him, but he can’t hide the lust in his gaze, the unmistakable arousal that flares as he hears the sounds of your moans echoing through the room.

Heeseung notices Jake almost instantly, his rhythm never faltering. Instead of shouting at him to get out or shielding you from Jake’s gaze, Heeseung smirks, his lips curling into something wicked and taunting. He rolls his hips into you once more, and you cry out, lost in the sensation and unaware of the unexpected visitor.

“Jake,” Heeseung calls out, his voice dripping with arrogance and something like amusement. He gestures with a nod of his head. “Come here. She’s a handful.”

Jake hesitates only for a moment, clearly dazed by the invitation and the surreal reality of the situation. But then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he steps inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He moves to the side of the bed, eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening.

You see him then, and the shame washes over you like ice water, your impending orgasm slipping away in the heat of the moment as you flush red for a different reason. You instinctively try to cover yourself, hands moving up to shield your chest, but Heeseung’s grip is ironclad and he catches your jaw with a firm, possessive hold, forcing your gaze back to his.

“Don’t be embarrassed, angel,” Heeseung murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear, his hips slowing just enough to make your frustration mount. “You want him, don’t you? I see the way you look at him when he calls you pretty names.”

You can’t deny it - the truth in his words makes your core tighten, clenching around nothing as you imagine Jake’s touch, the thought of both of them overwhelming you. You’ve craved this in the darkest corners of your mind, and now, with Jake standing there watching you, your desire is laid bare.

“Yes…please, I want him,” you confess, voice trembling with need and a hint of shame.

Heeseung’s smirk widens, his expression turning mocking and cruel. “See? I knew a slut like you couldn’t be satisfied with just one cock.” His hand comes down in a light but sharp slap across your cheek, and you gasp, the sting mingling with pleasure that leaves you breathless.

Jake’s eyes darken at the action, flickering with concern at the derogatory name and the harshness of Heeseung’s treatment. But then he sees the way you smile up at them, your expression dazed and blissful, a spark of euphoria igniting in your gaze that tells him all he needs to know. You want this. You want to be used, claimed, and taken by both of them. Harshly and roughly.

Brushing his fingers along the mark on your cheek, Jake soothes the pain. His touch is warm and careful, but there’s a hunger behind it, a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken. He looks down at you, his expression a mixture of adoration but menacing intent.

“Our pretty girl,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and velvety, tinged with a heat that sends a shiver down your spine. “Who knew you were so filthy?”

Heeseung’s gaze snaps to Jake, his possessiveness flaring instantly. “My pretty girl,” he corrects sharply, his tone dripping with dominance and a clear line of ownership. “You’re just here to help out.” Heeseung’s words are a clear warning, a statement of his claim over you, even in this shared moment. He’s willing to let Jake in because it’s what you crave, but he won’t let anyone - especially not Jake - forget who you truly belong to.

Now that he has you, he’s never letting you go. Not Jake nor Sunghoon is taking you away from him.

Jake’s eyes flash with understanding and he nods slightly, accepting Heeseung’s terms even if he isn’t too happy about it. You’re beautiful in every way and he would want nothing more than to call you his, but he knows about Heeseung’s fascination with you.

Jake has seen all the times Heeseung walks out of the room when you’re getting too close to one another. At first, he thought it was to give you and Jake alone time, but with every slam of a door or huff, he soon realised that Heeseung was in fact jealous and couldn’t bear to see the sight of you curled up with someone who wasn’t him. It doesn’t help that you’ve never been close to Heeseung the way you are Jake, but the Aussie blames that on his friend’s lack of initiative.

Clearly, he finally took the initiative by the looks of his cock ramming into you sharply. So, Jake takes this opportunity, if it’s between one night of sharing you, or not at all, he’s taking the first option.

Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightens just a fraction, and he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, angel. Always.” His eyes flicker to Jake, silently reminding him of the rules, before focusing back on you, his thrusts picking up speed again, driving into you with a new found vigour.

Your grip on the bedsheets tightens as you brace yourself, the soft fabric bunched between your fingers, knuckles turning white as you thrash beneath Heeseung. You’re barely aware of Jake watching every moment, every reaction—none of it matters anymore. The thick, pulsing drag of Heeseung’s cock has you keening, the heavy, relentless throb of his tip pressing against your walls with every hard thrust sending you spiraling into a delirium of pleasure.

The intensity of it all - the way Heeseung fills you so completely, the way his hips drive into you with a brutal, punishing rhythm - pushes you closer and closer to the edge. As your second orgasm builds, white-hot and all-consuming, it’s too much, almost unbearable. You instinctively try to pull away, shifting your hips back to gain even the slightest bit of relief. But Heeseung is quicker, his hands clamp down on your hips with a bruising grip, fingers digging into your skin.

"Don’t you fucking dare," he growls, his tone laced with anger and something darker, like the mere thought of you taking yourself away from him is the worst kind of betrayal. His gaze is wild, his brow furrowed with barely contained frustration, and it’s clear there’s a flip switch inside him - something more aggressive, more dominant than you’ve ever seen.

A sharp slap lands on your cheek, harder than before, the sting blooming hot across your skin and sending a shock straight to your core. “Don’t run away from what you want,” Heeseung hisses through clenched teeth, his thrusts not slowing for even a second. The sting mixes with the pleasure, and you feel yourself clenching around him, torn between pain and desire. You know you’ve pushed him over the edge, coaxed him into this rough, untamed version of himself, and you revel in it, loving the back and forth, the give and take of control.

“Jake, hold her arms,” Heeseung commands, his voice sharp and demanding, finally bringing Jake fully into the mix.

Jake’s hands are on you immediately, rough and firm as he yanks your arms above your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. He pulls you slightly, stretching you out and arching your back off the bed. The new angle sends you reeling, Heeseung’s cock hitting deeper, impossibly so, opening you up in a way that has you gasping for breath. You’re splayed out before them, exposed and vulnerable, and the combination of Jake’s tight grip and Heeseung’s punishing pace leaves you completely at their mercy.

Heeseung’s thumb finds your clit again, pressing down with just enough force to make you cry out. “You’re going to cum for me,” he growls, voice rough and dripping with command. His hips snap against yours, relentless and punishing, and his thumb moves with practised precision, rubbing tight, fast circles that have you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

Your vision blurs and all you can feel is the overwhelming pressure inside you, the knot in your stomach that has been pulled to it’s limits finally snaps with blinding intensity. You scream out, your entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over you in violent, shuddering waves. It’s all too much, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Heeseung keeps driving into you, his thumb never relenting on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer intensity of it.

Heeseung doesn’t let up, his pace unyielding, fucking you through your climax with a savage determination. Your slick walls clamp down around him, spasming with every drag of his cock, and he lets out a strangled groan, his control slipping as he chases his release. You’re lost to the sensation, barely able to form coherent thoughts as your climax drags on, each wave cresting higher than the last until you’re left shaking and spent beneath him.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you cry out breathlessly, the desperate need in your voice undeniable. “Cum inside me, please, please, please.” You’re beyond humiliation now, too lost in the heat of it all to care about anything but the aching emptiness you feel whenever he’s not filling you.

But just as you plead, Heeseung pulls out, the sudden emptiness leaving you whimpering and clenching around nothing. The slick, wet sound of him slipping free echoes in the room, and he fists his cock, pumping it with fast, urgent strokes. His chest heaves, muscles taut and glistening with sweat as he works himself to the brink, his grip on you tightening with every jerk of his wrist. The sight of him above you - his face twisted in pleasure, his eyes wild and unfocused - is enough to make you ache with need all over again.

With a low, guttural groan, Heeseung spills over you, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and chest, marking you his territory. The heat of it hits your skin, and you watch as he works himself through the last pulses of his release, his jaw clenched and his body trembling. Heeseung’s chest rises and falls heavily, his breaths ragged as he lets go, the last of his cum splattering across your body. He leans back, admiring the mess he’s made, his cock still twitching in his hand as he slowly comes down from his high.

“You need to behave if you want my cum, angel,” Heeseung says, his voice low and mocking, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he looks down at you. His thumb brushes over the sticky mess on your skin, smearing it just to make a point. You shiver, the ache and desire mixing into something intoxicating, and you know this won’t be the last time you push him like this - because the way Heeseung loses control when he’s with you is something you’ll never get enough of.

Jake’s grip loosens slightly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your wrists, soothing the faint ache left behind by his earlier roughness. His touch is a stark contrast to the raw intensity of everything that’s just happened, but his eyes tell a different story - dark, hungry, and locked onto you with an unwavering focus. His gaze travels over your body, lingering on the mess Heeseung left on your stomach, your heaving chest, and the subtle, involuntary shake of your legs. You’re a beautiful wreck, panting softly, your entire body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and Jake can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight.

Heeseung notices the way Jake’s expression shifts, the unmistakable desire written all over his face. “You want to clean her up?” Heeseung’s voice drips with amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches his friend’s restraint begin to crack. Heeseung’s fingers dip between your folds, collecting some of your slick before he brings his digits to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low, satisfied moan. “She’s fucking delicious.”

The taste of you floods Jake’s senses, and he loses himself in the moment, the sweet and salty blend of your release making his eyes flutter shut as he dives in deeper. He works his tongue expertly, slipping between your folds and circling your swollen clit before dipping down to explore your entrance, lapping up every drop of your arousal with an insatiable hunger.

Jake doesn’t need any more encouragement. An avid pussy eater, he’s practically salivating at the opportunity, his lips curling into a smile as he bites down on his lower lip. He moves swiftly, coming around the bed to position himself between your trembling thighs. Heeseung steps back, giving him space, though his watchful eyes never leave you. Jake starts slow, his tongue darting out to deliver soft kitten licks against your sensitive folds.

His touch is featherlight at first, a teasing exploration that makes your body jolt with renewed need. You can’t help but arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, seeking more, silently begging for him to go faster.

You’re lost to the pleasure, moaning and grinding against his mouth, and Jake takes it all in stride, responding to every twitch and pull of your body as he picks up the pace, his lips and tongue moving in perfect rhythm. He feasts on you like you’re the only thing that matters, each flick and swirl sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated core.

Heeseung watches the scene unfold, his jaw clenched as he listens to your moans. Jake’s face is buried between your legs, and it’s clear from the way your back arches and your thighs tighten around his head that he’s damn good at what he’s doing. Heeseung can’t deny the jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. As much as he loves seeing you fall apart, he wants to be the one pulling those sounds from you, the one making you lose control.

Dragging his fingers along your torso, Heeseung collects some of the sticky mess he left on your skin, his cum still warm and glistening. “Open up, angel,” he orders, his voice laced with menace. You’re too far gone, drowning in the sensations Jake is giving you, but you obey without question, parting your lips wide and waiting with your tongue out like a perfect little submissive.

Heeseung pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting the salty tang of his cum coat your tongue. “Suck,” he commands, and you comply immediately, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers and drawing them in deeper. You swirl your tongue over his digits, tasting every drop, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the bitter and intoxicating mix of him.

Watching you intently, Heeseung is mesmerised by the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his fingers slick with your saliva and his cum. He pushes in further, teasing the back of your throat, feeling the soft gag that makes you whimper around him, desperate and wanting more.

Meanwhile, Jake is completely absorbed in his own task, his tongue working tirelessly as he devours you. His nose brushing against your mound, his lips and tongue moving in tandem as he dips deeper, swirling his tongue inside your stretched, pulsing hole. You can feel every stroke, every flick, and it’s driving you mad, the pleasure so intense it has you bucking your hips against his face, searching for every ounce of friction you can get.

Watching you writhe and moan, Heeseung feels something shift within him. There’s a flicker of fondness, something warm and possessive that cuts through his dominant facade, just for a miniscule of a second. He wants every piece of himself inside you, to claim you in ways that go beyond just the physical but he pushes it down quickly, promising himself he’ll come back to that once he’s done with you here. He needs to give you everything you want at this moment, and that isn’t tender touches and soft kisses.

Pushing your jaw down with his fingers against your tongue, Heeseung pries you open just a fraction wider. He leans in close, his eyes dark and intense, and without warning, he spits into your mouth, the warm liquid mixing with the mess on your tongue. “Swallow,” he says, his voice low and commanding. You do as you’re told, choking back a swallow even with his fingers still invading your mouth, feeling the weight of his spit mix with everything else, and the act itself only heightens the filthy pleasure coursing through you. You’ve never felt so wanted, so owned, and it’s everything you’ve ever craved.

Jake keeps his pace, and Heeseung watches with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy, knowing that while Jake might get to taste you, it’s Heeseung’s name that you’re whispering, it’s Heeseung who’s truly claimed you. But he can’t let Jake have all the fun down there.

Watching the way Jake devours you, his mouth slick and greedy against your pussy, his jealousy flares up even as he feels the rush of satisfaction at seeing you come undone. He wants to feel you trembling beneath his tongue, taste you again as you unravel.

Withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, Heeseung moves to join Jake, his presence commanding as he circles to where the younger boy is still lost in you.

Jake’s head lifts just slightly when he feels Heeseung’s proximity, eyes narrowing in playful defensiveness. “No way, man, you ain’t taking over,” he mutters, his voice breathless, lips glistening with your slick. Heeseung simply rolls his eyes, unfazed by the challenge.

Instead of pushing Jake away, Heeseung moves in closer, nudging Jake just enough to the side so that they both have room to work. “She said she wanted both of us,” Heeseung smirks, his tone smug and self-assured. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”

Jake, still high on the taste of you, nods in agreement, accepting Heeseung’s presence beside him. As long as he gets to keep his mouth on you, keep drawing those sweet, desperate sounds from your lips, he’s willing to share the space. Heeseung’s head dips down beside Jake’s, and the two of them work in perfect, sinful harmony, their mouths colliding as they lick and suck at your folds, both eager to claim their share of you. Their noses brush against each other, their breath mingling in heated puffs as they take turns devouring you, neither willing to give up the spot.

The sensation is overwhelming - two mouths on you at once, tongues weaving over one another, sometimes colliding and sometimes complementing, creating a dizzying, chaotic rhythm that has you seeing stars. Heeseung’s tongue is precise and teasing, swirling around your clit with practised ease, while Jake’s is more fervent, desperate and hungry as he licks broad, eager strokes from your entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves Heeseung is working on. The way their tongues dance over each other sends electric shocks up your spine; it’s hot and heavy, a messy, wet collision of pleasure that makes your entire body hum.

This is truly what dreams are made of.

Every lick, every flick of their tongues against your swollen clit and dripping folds sends you spiralling closer to the edge. Jake’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he holds you open for both of them. Heeseung’s tongue dips lower, tasting you deeply, swirling inside your entrance before flicking back up to meet Jake’s. They take turns teasing you, their movements synchronised in a wicked, unspoken dance that leaves you gasping and writhing. It’s filthy and intimate, the feel of their mouths and their rough, needy breaths making your skin burn with want.

You can’t take it anymore. The coil inside you tightens with a force that’s almost painful, your third orgasm approaching with a relentless, ferocious speed. You try to hold on, try to prolong the moment, but it’s useless; the dual sensation of their mouths on you, the way their tongues move and taste you, has you spinning out of control. Your fingers claw at the sheets before finding purchase in their hair, grabbing onto both of them as your hips buck wildly.

“I’m cumming - fuck, I’m cumming!” you scream, your voice breaking, your entire body seizing as the orgasm rips through you with blinding intensity. The release is violent and all-consuming, your juices flooding their mouths as you squirt, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Your release is powerful and sudden, a gush of warm, clear fluid spraying from your core in rhythmic pulses, splashing against their faces and dripping down your thighs. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt—wild and uncontrolled, your entire body shaking as you let go completely.

Both Heeseung and Jake are caught in the torrent, and they react instantly, their mouths wide open and eager to catch every drop. Jake groans, eyes squeezed shut as your release coats his lips, chin, and cheeks, his tongue flicking out desperately to catch the taste of you. He presses his face closer, unashamedly drinking you in, his movements more frantic as he swallows your essence, the wet sound of his slurping mixing with your breathless cries.

Heeseung, on the other hand, keeps his mouth firmly on your clit, feeling the rush of your squirt spray against him as he sucks and flicks over your swollen nub. The force of your orgasm sends jets of your wetness splashing against his lips, some of it dripping messily down his neck. His eyes stay fixed on you, half-lidded and dark with lust, groaning in satisfaction as he devours you, tongue flicking at your sensitive clit even as you tremble and buck from the intensity of it all.

The way they’re lapping at you, hungry and relentless, only prolongs your squirting, your body giving everything it has as you flood their mouths with your release. Your thighs quiver violently around their heads, your back arching off the bed as the last spurts drench their faces and mix with the slick heat of their tongues. You can feel it everywhere - your release dripping down, soaking into the sheets, and covering their skin. It’s filthy, raw, and utterly electrifying, leaving you gasping and trembling as the final shudders of your climax ebb away.

Laying there, you gaze up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for everything that has transpired. This is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, a blissful euphoria that washes over you in waves. As you replay the events in your mind, you realize just how perfectly everything fell into place. If you or Heeseung had acted on this sooner, there’s no telling if Jake would be here with you now, completing this experience in a way you never expected. Timing really is everything.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely register Heeseung’s strong hands pulling at your arm, coaxing you into a sitting position. Your body feels limp, heavy with the aftershocks of your intense climax, but Heeseung is persistent, supporting your weight as he brings you upright. His warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “You’ve made such a mess, angel.” His voice is low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. He nods towards Jake, who stands by the bed, his face and chest drenched in your release. “Your slutty little act got Jake soaked. You better get him out of those clothes, huh?”

Jake’s eyes light up at Heeseung’s words, a mix of excitement and disbelief crossing his features. He had half-expected Heeseung to kick him out after what just happened, but the realization that this night is far from over fills him with eager anticipation. Heeseung's possessiveness is still palpable, but there’s a clear invitation in his words—a chance for Jake to fully join in.

Despite the fatigue settling into your limbs, a satisfied smile tugs at your lips. You nod in agreement, knowing that as spent as you are, the hunger for more is still burning inside you. Heeseung was right - you are a lot to handle, and you love it.

Jake’s cock stands proudly before you, a little shorter but thicker than Heeseung’s, veins bulging along its length, and the tip flushed a deep pink. It throbs with anticipation, precum already beading at the slit, and your mouth waters at the sight. You glance up at Jake, who’s watching you with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths.

Gathering the last of your energy, you crawl to the edge of the bed where Jake is standing. His t-shirt clings to his skin, wet and sticky from your release, and you peel it away from his body, revealing his toned chest beneath. The fabric resists slightly, almost glued to him, but you tug it off, discarding it carelessly to the side. Your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper, feeling the weight of his arousal straining against the denim.

As you tug his jeans down, you can’t help but notice how his cock springs free, heavy and thick, even shorter than Heeseung’s, but undeniably tempting.

Heeseung moves behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “Go on, angel,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Suck his cock like the slut you are. Make him nice and hard.” His tongue flicks out, tracing the curve of your ear before he bites your lobe, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His voice drops to a menacing whisper, a warning laced with dominance. “Remember, you’re mine. Don’t let him cum in your mouth, or I’ll make sure you never get a drop of mine. Got it?”

The thought of Heeseung’s cum buried deep inside you sends a fresh wave of longing through your body, the ache intensifying at the reminder that he denied you earlier. You whine softly, desperate to please, knowing that you’ll do anything to earn that reward.

You start slow, your hand wrapping around the base of Jake’s cock, feeling the thick, pulsing heat in your palm. Your tongue darts out, flicking over the tip to taste the salty precum gathered there, and Jake’s breath hitches, his hips twitching forward slightly. You take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head, sucking gently as you inch down his length. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you hum in satisfaction, the vibration making Jake groan above you.

Jake’s reaction only spurs you on. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head, creating a wet, slurping sound that fills the room. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, tracing the thick veins and teasing the sensitive underside, making him moan low and deep, his hands fisting in the sheets. The way he reacts to you—his breathless gasps, the way his hips jerk forward uncontrollably—fuels your desire, making you suck harder, faster, wanting to see him unravel.

Heeseung watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his own arousal reigniting as he takes in the sight of you working Jake’s cock. His hand moves to his own length, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your head bobbing on Jake’s cock. The jealousy is there, a bitter edge that makes him want to rip Jake away from you, but he holds back, knowing that this is all part of his plan. You need to get Jake nice and ready for what Heeseung has planned next.

As you focus on Jake, your hips start to rise involuntarily, your body seeking more stimulation, almost begging for attention. Heeseung’s eyes catch the movement, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your ass sway in front of him. There’s no way you’re sucking Jake’s cock without offering yourself to Heeseung like that. He can’t resist the invitation.

Without warning, Heeseung’s hand comes down on your ass with a loud smack, the sharp sting making you cry out around Jake’s cock. The vibration travels through Jake’s length, and he groans, his head falling back as he feels it shoot straight to his balls.

“Fuck… Heeseung, do that again,” Jake breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure.

Heeseung obliges, his hand coming down harder on your ass this time, the force of the slap sending a jolt of pain-pleasure straight to your core. You cry out again, your throat tightening around Jake’s cock as you take him deeper, the sensation making him groan louder, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Such a fucking slut,” Heeseung mocks, his tone filled with dark amusement as he soothes the reddened skin of your ass with gentle strokes, then leans down to press a kiss against it. “Bet she even loves her ass being played with.”

“Bet she does,” Jake echoes, his voice rough, his face scrunched up in pleasure as your tongue runs along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

Heeseung wastes no time in spreading your legs wider, his fingers tracing the slick folds of your cheeks before he delves in, tongue first. The wet, hot muscle of his tongue circles your rim, teasing and tasting, flicking over the sensitive skin there. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt before, and your back arches instinctively, pushing back against his face as he works you open. Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue dipping inside before drawing back to lick, over and over, until your thighs are trembling with need.

He adds a finger, then two, stretching you as his tongue continues its assault. Heeseung’s fingers press deeper, curling slightly as he works them in and out with an agonizingly slow rhythm, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to fuck into you. The combination of his tongue and fingers is overwhelming; every nerve in your body seems to light up under his touch. He alternates between licking and biting, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver of pain-pleasure shooting through you, and you can’t help but clench around him, your muscles tightening as you struggle to keep focus.

Jake watches from above, his cock still in your mouth, and your tongue traces along the prominent vein on the underside, feeling it pulse with every beat of his racing heart. But Heeseung’s ministrations make it impossible to concentrate fully. The way his tongue darts in and out of your ass, combined with the relentless thrust of his fingers, is too much to bear. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure directly to your core, and the more Heeseung teases, the harder it becomes to maintain control.

It’s a battle to keep your focus on Jake’s cock. You want to please him, to keep sucking and teasing, but Heeseung’s touch makes your mind go blank. Just as you start to find a rhythm again, you feel Jake twitch in your mouth—a subtle warning that he’s close. Panic surges through you as you remember Heeseung’s strict instructions and the threat of losing the chance to have his cum if Jake finishes in your mouth. Desperate to obey, you pull off Jake with a wet pop, the cool air hitting your lips as you gasp for breath, the brief reprieve quickly turning into a moan as Heeseung drives his fingers deeper, faster.

Heeseung doesn’t let up; he kneels behind you and yanks you up, removing his fingers only to press you firmly against his chest. His grip is possessive, holding you close as he whispers in your ear, “Good girl, you listen so well to me.” The praise sends a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine, your body going limp against his hold as he licks the last of your taste from his lips, his satisfaction evident.

Seemingly caught in the moment, Jake’s eyes fix on you as he wraps his hand around his cock, fisting himself with quick, desperate strokes. His eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he chases the high he was so close to achieving in your mouth. You watch with rapt attention, seeing the way his muscles tense, his abs clenching as he works himself to completion. He positions himself in front of you, aiming at your stomach, and with a low, guttural groan, he spills over you, hot and thick.

His cum splatters across your skin, mixing with the remnants of Heeseung’s earlier release, creating a mess that drips down your belly and pools in your navel. You watch the way Jake’s cock twitches in his hand, each pulse sending another thick rope of cum across your skin, the sight both filthy and utterly arousing. The combined scent of their release fills your senses, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy whimper, your body aching for more.

Heeseung’s hold tightens around you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches Jake finish. “Look at you,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice rough with pride and arousal. “Covered in our cum like the perfect little slut you are.” He tilts your head back, forcing you to look up at him, his dark eyes burning with unspoken promises. “And don’t worry, angel. You’ll get what you want soon enough.” His cock twitches against your back, a silent promise of what’s still to come.

With a smirk, Heeseung’s eyes flick down to his friend’s softening cock. “I’ll give you a minute, yeah?” he says, the implication clear in his tone. Although Jake’s frustration is palpable - knowing that Heeseung will be buried inside you again before he even gets a chance to feel your tightness squeezing his cock - he nods in understanding.

He knows he needs a moment - his dick, still slick with your spit and his own cum, needs a little time to recover before he's ready to go again. The veins running along his shaft are still faintly pulsing, and his tip, now a deeper, more muted pink, glistens under the dim light of the room. He gently strokes himself, trying to keep the lingering arousal alive, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him.

Meanwhile, Heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin in a playful, almost affectionate way. Each bite is a reminder of his claim on you, and the small smiles he gives are a stark contrast to the filthy things you’ve done together tonight. His warm breath fans against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation, knowing exactly what’s coming next.

With a sultry smile, you gather some of the cum pooling on your tummy, dragging your fingers through the sticky mess before bringing them to your lips. You suck them clean, maintaining eye contact with Heeseung the entire time, a deliberate and provocative display.

A stray dribble escapes the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin, but Heeseung’s quick to notice. Without hesitation, he leans in, his mouth latching onto your skin as he sucks the dribble off your face, his tongue sweeping over your jawline in a way that’s both possessive and intimate. The unexpected act catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, the sound quickly morphing into a needy whimper.

Something is mesmerising about Heeseung - how he’s unafraid to take what he wants, how he ensures you’re getting the most pleasure out of every moment. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever been with, and you find yourself falling deeper into the way he handles you with a perfect balance of roughness and care. Jake, too, has been nothing short of selfless, his need to please you evident in every touch and desperate lick. The puppy-eyed boy is eager to please you, which is a rarity to find in men these days, god knows you’ve tried looking for one.

Who knew what you needed was under this roof?

Heeseung’s eyes remain half-lidded, dark with desire, as he pulls back just enough to speak. “Turn around for me, angel,” he instructs, his voice dripping with lust. He punctuates his command with a sharp slap to your ass, and the sting only amplifies the fire burning between your legs. His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite your exhaustion, a renewed energy surges through you. You comply eagerly, shuffling until you’re facing him, both of you on your knees on the mattress.

Up close, Heeseung’s beauty is breathtaking. His dark eyes are alight with mischief and hunger, but there’s also a softness there, a gentleness that contradicts the filthy words he whispers in your ear. You marvel at how stunning he looks with his tousled hair, swollen lips, and a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He’s a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance, and every second in his presence feels electric.

“I’m going to fuck your cunt. You feeling okay?” Heeseung asks, his voice softening as he checks in on you, his fingers drifting down to your slick heat. He carefully slides them between your folds, testing your sensitivity, searching for any signs of discomfort.

You moan at the touch and nod, meeting his gaze with a cheeky grin. “I’m okay. Nowhere near ruined,” you tease, giving him an innocent look, though both of you know there’s nothing innocent about what’s happening.

Heeseung’s expression shifts, his caring concern replaced with amusement and libido. “Yeah? Suppose I better make good on my promise then,” he growls before crashing his lips back onto yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with unrestrained fervour. He devours you, kissing you like he can’t get enough like he’s starved for every part of you - and he is. His fingers continue to play with your folds, rubbing slow circles against your clit, driving you further into madness as your hips jerk instinctively against his hand.

Jake’s watching intently, his cock twitching back to life as he witnesses the raw passion between you and Heeseung. The sight of you so lost in Heeseung’s touch, the way your body melts into his, ignites something fierce within Jake. He strokes his length slowly, feeling the arousal steadily build again, his tip swelling with a deep rose tint as blood rushes back, hardening him as he imagines the moment he’ll finally be inside you.

Heeseung’s hands find your ass, gripping firmly as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his lap. Your legs spread wide, and he uses his strength to guide you down, letting your slick folds drag along his cock, the bell of his tip pressing teasingly at your entrance. The friction has you grinding against him, desperate for more, and Heeseung groans at the needy way you move, his head tipping back in pure bliss.

“God, I fucking love how needy you are,” he breathes, leaning forward to hover his lips over yours, barely brushing them as he speaks. “I’m never letting you go after this.”

You can’t suppress the smile that spreads across your face, the words resonating deeply. “Good. I don’t want you to,” you murmur back, your voice filled with sincerity. Heeseung’s gaze softens momentarily before his need takes over, and he pulls you down, his cock finally breaching your entrance as you sink onto him, the stretch and fullness making your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

Heeseung’s strong hands grip your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock with practised ease. Each bounce sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the thick length of him stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your soft, needy moans and Heeseung’s ragged breaths. He watches you through hooded eyes, his lips parted as he groans with every thrust, the sight of you taking him so eagerly making his head spin.

“Fuck, you feel even better this time,” Heeseung rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. He can’t believe how tight you still are, how your body moulds perfectly around him, clenching with every movement. His hips snap up to meet your descent, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he drives himself deeper inside you. He swears for a second he can see his cock bulging out your stomach, making him groan out and quicken his pace.

Biting his lip so hard it nearly draws blood, Jake moves closer, his restraint crumbling as he watches you go up and down on Heeseung’s cock. The sight is almost too much for him to bear; he needs to feel you, to be inside you. Climbing onto the bed, he positions himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Heeseung’s, silently asking for permission to join.

Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cups your face, drawing your attention back to him rather than the pleasure. “You think you can take both of us, angel?” he asks, his voice thick with pride and appentence.

The mere thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. One cock was already bliss, but the idea of having both of them inside you at once? It’s a dream you never thought would come true. You nod enthusiastically, your smile bright and eager. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Jake mirrors your expression, his eyes lighting up and his cock twitching in joy. Unable to resist, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss. It’s different from Heeseung’s - softer, more deliberate, his tongue stroking yours slowly, savouring the moment. The contrast between Jake’s gentle kiss and the way Heeseung pounds into you is dizzying, making you feel completely overwhelmed in the best way possible.

With his hands groping your ass and kneading your cheeks, Jake’s touch is gentle as he positions himself at your entrance. He feels the tight ring of muscle give way slightly under his touch, his eyes flickering with both excitement and a hint of concern. Slowly, he presses forward, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but claw at Jake’s shoulder, your nails digging in as you adjust to the pressure.

Heeseung pauses his movements, allowing you to catch your breath as Jake inches inside. Your body tenses, the sensation of Jake’s girth pushing into your ass making you gasp. Even though Heeseung had prepped you earlier, Jake’s cock is thick, and the tightness borders on overwhelming.

Jake’s brow furrows, his voice laced with guilt as he peppers kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your forehead - anywhere he can reach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs between kisses, his touch tender and soothing. “I’ll go really slow until you’re ready, yeah?”

The gentleness in his voice makes your heart flutter, and despite the intensity of the stretch, you can’t help but feel safe between them. “It’s okay,” you whisper, breathless but reassuring. “I want this. You can move.”

Cautiously, Jake slides in deeper inch by inch, his own moans of ecstasy barely contained as your tight heat swallows him. The slow stretch is excruciatingly good, the pressure of being filled from both ends sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Heeseung keeps his hands on your waist, holding you steady as Jake finally bottoms out, the three of you perfectly locked together in a moment that feels almost unreal.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake breathes, his head tipping back as he revels in the tight squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good.”

Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk as he watches you both, his grip tightening possessively. “You like that, angel? You like being filled up by us?” His voice is low and rough, and you can only nod, your words lost to the pleasure.

As your body begins to adjust to the intense stretch, the rhythm between Heeseung and Jake picks up, their movements becoming more coordinated, more deliberate. Heeseung’s hands roam your body, sliding up your waist to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples as he thrusts up into you. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core, each touch amplifying the overwhelming fullness you feel. Jake’s hands grip your hips from behind, guiding you onto his cock with careful but desperate need, his fingers occasionally sliding to your lower back, tracing soft patterns as if trying to soothe the burn of being stretched so wide.

Every thrust is perfectly timed, alternating in a way that keeps you impossibly full, never a moment where you aren’t completely claimed by both of them. The feeling is indescribable - hot, tight, and exquisitely intense, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. The press of Jake’s chest against your back, the rough slide of Heeseung’s cock inside your dripping heat, and the way Jake’s fingers are now expertly working your clit all converge into one dizzying blend of pleasure. Your moans turn into high-pitched cries, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you’re completely lost to the overwhelming ecstasy of having them both.

Jake’s touch on your clit is unrelenting, his fingers drawing slow, firm circles that match the rhythm of their movements. Your body responds instantly, clenching tight around both of them as your orgasm builds, a pressure so fierce it almost scares you. Your breaths turn ragged, your body trembling as you cling to Jake’s shoulders for support, feeling like you might fall apart at any moment. The tension finally snaps, and you’re thrown headfirst into your release, your walls convulsing wildly around them. The sensation is blinding; your vision goes white, and your entire body locks up as the orgasm tears through you. Your head falls back onto Jake’s shoulder, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every inch of your being.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum for us,” Heeseung groans, his voice thick and strained. His own restraint is slipping, the feeling of you spasming around him pushing him dangerously close to his own release. Jake watches you fall apart, his eyes glazed with lust as he feels your slick walls clench around his cock, milking him for everything he has.

Jake’s breathing is ragged, his release lingering in the air, but his eyes stay fixed on the way your body is stretched and filled between them, a look of longing and unfulfilled need still shadowing his expression. Heeseung’s thrusts are slowing, but Jake’s gaze doesn’t waver; he’s captivated, hungry for more. As he pulls out slowly, his cock slick and glistening from being inside you, he swallows thickly, his desire still burning hot despite his recent release.

“Fuck… Heeseung,” Jake starts, his voice hoarse and filled with a mix of uncertainty and desperate want. He hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. “Can I—can I cum inside her ass?”

Heeseung’s head snaps up, his brows knitting together in a flash of possessiveness. It’s an instinct, that primal urge to keep you all to himself, to not share the deepest parts of you. His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, and he bites his lip, conflicted. The question hangs heavy between the three of you, and you can feel the tension in the air, the silent battle playing out in Heeseung’s mind as he grapples with his possessiveness.

But before he can even form a response, you nod eagerly, your body already aching for more, for that forbidden thrill of being filled in every hole. Your eyes meet Heeseung’s, silently pleading, and he feels his resolve waver. Despite his reluctance, the look of anticipation and need on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heeseung’s gaze softens, his possessiveness yielding under the weight of your desire. He knows how much you crave this, and though the thought of Jake claiming you in such an intimate way twists something inside him, Heeseung’s need to see you satisfied trumps his jealousy. He lets out a sigh, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a tender, reassuring gesture.

“Only because she wants it,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and edged with reluctant surrender. He looks at Jake, then back to you, his eyes filled with a fierce, protective heat.

Jake nods, his eyes lighting up with gratitude and excitement. The sight of you writhing between them, your body trembling and utterly spent - along with verbal permission - pushes Jake over the edge. His grip on your hips tightens, and with a few more desperate thrusts, he lets out a strangled moan, his cock pulsing inside you. He buries himself deep, the heat of his release flooding you as he spills, his cum coating your walls as he grinds against you, hips twitching with each spurt. Jake’s head drops forward, his breath hot against your shoulder as he groans through his release, the feeling of being buried in your tight heat making him shudder in bliss.

“Fuck, so tight,” Jake pants, his voice barely a whisper as he comes down from his high, his body sagging slightly but still moving in time with Heeseung’s thrusts, making sure you stay full.

Heeseung watches, utterly transfixed by the sight of Jake’s cum mixing with your slick as he continues to thrust into you. The pressure of you squeezing him so perfectly and the primal satisfaction of knowing he’s sharing this moment with Jake pushes him right to his breaking point. With a guttural moan, Heeseung snaps his hips up, filling you completely one last time before he finally lets go. His grip on your waist is bruising, his nails digging into your skin as his release surges forward, hot and thick as he empties inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock twitching with every pulse as he coats your insides with his cum.

Heeseung’s thrusts slow but remain deep, his forehead pressed against yours as he breathes heavily, still caught in the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Fuck, angel, you were so perfect,” he mutters, his voice laced with awe as he watches the way your body shudders between them, completely sated and drenched in the evidence of their pleasure. Jake’s hand still lingers on your hip, squeezing gently as if to say that this moment was just the beginning, a silent promise of more to come.

With both of them still inside, you feel utterly claimed, utterly theirs, and you know that nothing else will ever compare.

As the intensity of the moment finally settles, the room falls into a comfortable, exhausted silence, only broken by the sound of labored breathing. Heeseung slowly pulls out of you, careful not to overwhelm you further, his own body still tingling from the aftershocks of his release. He can’t help but watch the way his cum mingles with Jake’s, leaking out of you in thick rivulets. The sight is so raw, so intimate, that it sends a possessive thrill through him, but he knows that now is the time for gentleness.

Heeseung’s touch shifts from passionate to tender, his hands soft and careful as he helps you lay back on the bed. You’re completely spent, your body limp and glowing with satisfaction, and Heeseung takes a moment to appreciate just how beautiful you look—flushed, a little messy, and thoroughly pleasured. He kisses your forehead softly, then moves to check over your body, his gaze sharp and attentive. There’s a hint of concern in his eyes as he inspects every inch of you, ensuring there are no signs of discomfort or strain.

“You okay, angel?” he asks, voice gentle as he runs his fingers soothingly through your hair. You nod weakly, eyes half-lidded, still lost in the blissful haze of what just transpired.

Jake, catching his breath, slips off the bed with a satisfied smile, heading to the kitchen. He quickly grabs a bottle of water and some wet wipes, his mind already shifting to aftercare. He knows how important this part is - to make sure you feel safe and loved, especially after such an intense experience. When he returns, Heeseung is still doting on you, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if grounding you.

You let out a tired whine, snuggling deeper into the pillows. “Too tired,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung frowns slightly but lets it go, deciding to prioritise your comfort in this moment, knowing he’ll keep a close eye on you.

Heeseung’s protective nature kicks in, and he leans close, his voice soft but firm. “You should try to pee, angel,” he urges, knowing how your body needs it.

But you shake your head, too tired to move, too comfortable in the warm cocoon of their presence to care about anything else. “I know, baby, but it’s important,” he insists, though his tone is gentle, laced with concern.

Jake kneels beside you, his smile tender as he opens the wet wipes and begins to clean you up, his touch gentle and unhurried. He wipes away the sticky mess on your stomach, thighs, and between your legs, his movements slow. The cool touch of the wipes is soothing against your heated skin, and Jake’s soft murmurs of reassurance make you feel even more cared for.

“You did so well,” Jake praises softly, his fingers grazing your skin as he cleans you up, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. “So perfect for us.” His eyes are full of warmth as he meets yours, and the soft, fond expression on his face makes your heart flutter.

Once you’re cleaned up, Jake hands you the water bottle, urging you to take a few sips to hydrate. You comply, though your body is still heavy with exhaustion. The cool water soothes your dry throat, and you give Jake a sleepy smile of gratitude.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content. Jake just smiles back, brushing a stray hair away from your face before discarding the used wipes and settling back on the bed.

“C’mere,” you murmur, reaching out for both of them. The need for closeness, for reassurance, is palpable in your voice, and neither Jake nor Heeseung hesitates. They each slide in beside you, one on each side, surrounding you with their warmth. Heeseung pulls you closer against his chest, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, while Jake presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing over your cheek.

You sigh in contentment, the weight of their bodies grounding you, making you feel utterly safe and cherished. Heeseung’s thumb strokes your side in soothing circles, and you nuzzle closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. Jake’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he snuggles closer, and you feel utterly enveloped by their presence.

The three of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sex, but there’s a newfound calmness, a quiet intimacy that settles over you like a warm blanket.

As you lay nestled between Heeseung and Jake, the warmth of their bodies soothing every ache and the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling you into a sense of tranquility, your eyelids grow heavy. The soft, rhythmic strokes of Heeseung’s thumb along your side and the gentle squeeze of Jake’s hand in yours keep you tethered to the present, yet slowly, inevitably, the world begins to fade.

The sounds around you start to blur - Heeseung’s quiet, steady breaths, the faint rustle of sheets, and the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Everything seems to meld into a comforting haze, and you feel yourself slipping, drifting further into the embrace of sleep. The last thing you register is Heeseung’s fingers brushing through your hair and Jake’s lips pressing a final, tender kiss to your cheek. You surrender to the drowsiness, your body relaxing completely as you sink into a deep, contented slumber, cocooned in the safety of their presence.

With you now resting peacefully between them, Heeseung and Jake exchange a silent glance over your sleeping form. It’s a look filled with a mix of satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of uncertainty. The night had been everything they had imagined and more, but the rawness of their emotions lingers heavily between them. Neither of them had expected to feel this way - to feel so deeply connected to you through this shared experience.

Heeseung’s eyes flicker with an unspoken question, his possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface. He’s never been good at sharing what’s his, and seeing Jake so intimate with you stirs something complicated inside him. He knows he needs to sort through these feelings, but he also knows that tonight isn’t the time for it. Right now, you’re all that matters, your comfort and peace taking precedence over his own inner turmoil.

Jake meets his gaze, and for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanour falters. There’s a flicker of doubt, a quiet acknowledgement of the shift in their dynamic. The truth is, having you like this, feeling you fall apart in their hands, has only deepened his desire. But more than that, it’s solidified something within him—a need to protect and keep you close. It’s a need that, strangely enough, mirrors Heeseung’s own, despite their differences.

Neither of them speaks; there’s no need for words right now. They’ll figure it out in the morning, they tell themselves. What this means for all of them, how they’ll navigate this new and tangled web of emotions and desire—it’s a problem for another day. The only certainty they share in this moment is that you’ve become something irreplaceable, something neither of them is willing to let go of.

But there’s one unspoken agreement that hangs heavily between them:

Sunghoon can never find out.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #aj writes #lee heeseung smut #jake sim smut

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yawnderu · 1 year

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Lovely — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

"She looks just like you." You whisper softly, gaze full of love as you admire the baby between both of you. He doesn't respond for a long while, completely enamored by the little girl who is holding his finger with her entire tiny hand, looking in awe at the life you both created.

"She's so tiny." He whispers back, secretly afraid he'll startle the baby with his deep voice despite knowing she has fallen asleep to his voice and hums more than once. A small chuckle from you is all it takes for her face to turn towards you, her free hand grabbing a strand of your hair and trying to take it to her mouth before Simon gently intervenes, taking it back and giving her another finger to hold.

"Thank you." His gaze focuses on you as he cups your cheek, thumb tracing random patterns on your skin as the corners of his mouth tilt up in a small, tender smile.

"What for?" You ask as if you didn't know exactly what he was talking about, as if he hadn't thanked you hundreds of times for carrying his child ever since he found out you were pregnant.

"For creating her." His tone is as gentle and tender, and if it didn't show just how much he loves you, the look in his eyes totally did. He's looking at you like you're a goddess in the flesh— and you are. You give him a warm smile, leaning closer to plant a small kiss on his cheek, which he returns.

"I like our baby." He murmurs, his hand coming down to caress her cheek gently with one finger. He treats her like she's made of glass, and in his mind, she is. She's so tiny compared to his behemoth frame, and it took a while until he felt comfortable enough to hold her. He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, gaze drifting between his angels before he lets out a small sigh of content.

"She likes you too." You tease, playfully poking his side as the memories of how much of a daddy's girl your daughter is already despite being only three months old. It's lovely, really, to see the man everyone knows as "the big boy with the skull mask" become absolute putty under the tiny hands of his daughter.

He bends backwards for her, holding her late at night and talking to her, telling her all sort of stories about his life despite knowing she can't understand yet. His heart melts whenever his daughter simply looks up at him and babbles, hand reaching out to him and pulling on anything she can reach with surprising strength.

"Mum would have loved her." Your heart breaks at his hushed words, hand immediately reaching out to caress his cheek as he refuses to hold your gaze, simply looking down at your daughter with sadness hidden deep inside his loving stare.

"Look at me, big guy." It takes a few seconds for him to look up, and when he does, you can feel everything. The regret, the longing, the sadness, the pain. You bring him closer for a soft kiss, both of your lips turning up into a smile as your daughter interrupts you by babbling and holding onto Simon.

"You carry her love with you. In your eyes, your smile, your hair... her love didn't go with her when she passed." He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek softly before nodding his head, carefully holding onto your daughter before laying her down on his chest, one of his hands supporting her neck while the other one holds her body close to his.

"Never saw it that way." His voice sounds distant now, yet it's never devoid of affection and love for you. You know him well enough to know he's visiting a graveyard of memories. You lay down next to him, head resting on his shoulder, planting a kiss on his soft jawline.

"She was the best nan. Always spoiling Joseph and buying him anything she thought he'd like... at some point Tommy and Beth were running out of space because he had so many bloody toys." A small chuckle escapes his lips, smiling fondly at the memories of his family before they were taken from him. He felt comfortable enough with you to be able to speak about his family— you were always so patient, waiting years for this.

"They sound lovely." Another kiss to his jawline as you look at your daughter absent-mindedly run her fingers over his tattoo sleeve. It's ironic, to see such an innocent person tracing something meant to be representing of destruction and loss, yet that's what his life is, two sides of the coin that is Simon Riley's past and present. "I'm sure they're watching over you, proud that you have this life."

He gives you a soft grin, planting a kiss on your forehead as he looks out of the window, fingers absent-mindedly caressing your daughter's back while he looks up at the sky. I made it, mum.

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pearlywritings · 1 year

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In father’s embrace

synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s

word count: 5.2k words

a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!

Blade

Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.

The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.

Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".

As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.

Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.

Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.

With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.

He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.

It’s soothingly silent.

It almost reminds him of the past.

“For how long will you be staying this time?

Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.

These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.

“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.

“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.

The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.

“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”

A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.

“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.

Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.

Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.

Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.

But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.

Gepard

A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.

It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.

Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.

After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.

You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.

Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.

The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.

Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…

When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.

Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.

Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.

Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.

“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”

“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?

“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”

“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.

When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.

His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.

“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.

“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”

“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”

“Serval, you what?”

“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”

“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”

“This little-”

Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.

Loucha

To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.

It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.

Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.

And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.

When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.

Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.

Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.

Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.

The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.

More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.

It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.

At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.

“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.

“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”

Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.

“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”

“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.

“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”

“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”

“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”

“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”

“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”

You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.

“For everything.”

He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.

Sampo

In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.

But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?

Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.

And boy did that “hehe” change your life.

That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.

That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.

And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.

Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.

That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.

That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.

From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.

You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.

Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.

Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.

Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?

And soon enough you find it out.

“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”

“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”

There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.

But that’s not what exactly concerns you.

“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.

“Yes, mommy!”

“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”

And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”

“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”

Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.

“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.

“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.

“...Pa-mpo?”

“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”

“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”

And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.

“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”

“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”

“Don’t even dream of it.”

Jing Yuan

Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.

He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.

For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.

The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.

Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.

And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…

“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.

“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”

“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.

“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”

You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.

“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”

“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”

To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.

“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”

“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”

“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”

“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.

In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.

“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.

“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.

“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”

“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.

You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x fem!reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x fem!reader #loucha x reader #loucha x fem!reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x fem!reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x fem!reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

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pathologicalreid · 4 months

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separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

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take-my-soul-if · 5 months

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Eros and Psyche IF

TAKE MY SOUL is an 18+ IF game being written in Twine. It's a retelling of the famous story of Eros and Psyche, just... with a few new added twists and turns!

Your sisters married off quick, you didn't. It was hard, harder than necessary for your parents to marry you off. Everyone seemed to kneel at the presence of your beauty but ended up never wanting to stay long enough for something to form.

You were practically a trophy for rich nobles to flaunt around. Cupid had failed you with this one.

Until one night, you felt a prick at your side, a rush of cold air, and suddenly your life flipped upside down when your parents came back to the castle with upsetting news about the rest of your life (or maybe the end of it?)

Customize YOUR own Psyche! Play as female, male, non-binary; straight, bisexual, pansexual, gay; asexual, and even, touch-averse! What hobbies should you have? What beliefs? What religion?

Follow the way the myth is supposed to unfold, or break away and create what you think should happen. Who said the minor god needed to get the person?

Find love in Cupid, or maybe even their mom?

Play as quite literally, one of the most beautiful people roaming Earth

Deal with your two obnoxious older sisters who only want to flaunt their husbands in your face

Enrich yourself in a story filled with new paths at every page and a whole ton of flavor text!

Have the occasional switch of POV, with the starring guest of Aphrodite, the Orcale?, and even your own love interest

CUPID

The god of love, albeit a minor one, but a god nonetheless. You've never seen them, as Eros likes to stay hidden whilst casting their arrows. But, from what your tutors teach you, they have these massive angel wings that preen out whenever they get into something mischievous. Cloth wraps around their naked body, Eros doesn't leave much to the imagination. However, in some readings, Eros is depicted as a female with hip-length black hair, while in others, the male version likes to keep it cropped and out of his way.

this is a draft! more romances may be introduced in the future, but currently, im sticking with Eros

DEMO COMING SOMETIME IN MAY!!!

#interactive fiction #twine if #if wip #interactive novel #if game

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reiderwriter · 1 year

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More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

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