#I would rather stay inside my room and draw but instead I got dragged out and forced to run EVERYONE TTOTT

[dollya-robinprotector]

April 30th - Vietnamese Day of the Liberation of the South and National Reunification 

Also in honor of the upcoming update that brings Áo Dài into the school uniform system! Hehe, I'm full-on nationalist mode right now!

Sending my regards to Vrel, the devs, and the contributors!

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[whumperooni]

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato.  You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him.  That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly.  “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[sunnyville36]

Put it on me

Requested from anon

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

Themes/warnings: idol!verse Felix, light angst/argument, make-up sex, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe out there folks!), slightly rough sex

Word count: 1.6k

As always, happy to hear your thoughts, and thank you for reading!

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You’re staring at the half eaten meal on your plate when you hear the door open.

You and Felix have barely had 2 seconds to spend with each other the past few weeks with Stray Kids working on their upcoming comeback, so you thought you would surprise him by making your signature chicken carbonara that he’s been dying to try.  You had texted him earlier to tell him your plans and he had sounded super excited.  He mentioned dance practice might run long, but told you he would come straight over to your place when it ended to spend some time with you.  So you put his portion in the oven to keep it warm and waited for a text saying he was on his way, but it had been over 3 hours since their practice should have ended and you hadn’t heard anything from him.

Your boyfriend comes around the corner into the kitchen, and you can immediately tell he’s not in a good mood, but you hope some food might lift his spirits.

“Hey Lixie,” you say, standing up and crossing the short space to give him a quick hug.

He wraps his arms loosely around you, trying to keep his sweat-stained tank top from ruining your shirt.  “Hi Y/n.”

“How was practice?”

“Fucking exhausting,” he sighs, plopping down in a seat at the table and letting his head fall into his hands.

“I can only imagine,” you respond, making your way over to the oven.  “Maybe something to eat will make you feel better?”

“Oh, I-I’m not hungry, baby.”

You turn back to him, see his head is still in his hands.  He’s trying too hard not to interact with you, and you feel like something’s up.

“After that insanely long practice?  You must be.”

“I uh… I ate with the boys.”

You feel a knot twist in your stomach, but try not to jump to conclusions.  “Lix, dinner must have been hours ago by now; come on you should eat something, I kept your pasta in the oven - “

“I just came from eating,” he interrupts, looking anywhere but the spot where you’re standing with one hand on the oven door.

“You what?” you ask, voice quiet.

“After practice ended, we all went up the street to that 24-hour ramen place.”

His head is bowed, eyes looking at his lap, and you can tell he’s feeling guilty.  And you know it’s petty, and you should really just brush it off and move on, but you find yourself feeling more hurt than you thought you would.

“But I… we said we were going to spend some time together tonight, and I made this special just for you…” you trail off, trying hard to stem the tiny drops of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“I know but - look, the members were at each other’s throats all night and it was such a tough session and I didn’t wanna just bail on them when Chan suggested we all grab food to sort it out - “

“So you decided to bail on me instead?” you scoff, anger rising in your chest.

“No, it wasn’t like that, I’m still here aren’t I?”

“You could have at least texted me about the change of plans.  I’ve been waiting here for hours thinking you’d walk in the door any minute when you might not have even shown up at all!”

“Well I’m sorry my life doesn’t revolve around how you spend your time sitting around!” he snaps back, throwing up his hands in an annoyed shrug.

“Right.  Because all I do with my time is sit around pining after you.  You know, this was one of the only free times for me too, and now it’s wasted.”

The air is tense between the two of you.  You’re rapidly moving towards a full blown fight, and this is far from how you wanted your evening to go.

“So I’ll just go then, if your precious plans are ruined,” Felix mumbles, standing to grab his jacket from the hook by the door.

In all honesty, it’d be better if you let him leave, give the both of you time to cool down.  But you’re too upset to think rationally, and all you can see is him not even caring enough to stay despite your disagreement.

“So you’d rather walk away than talk about this?”

He turns back, fists balling at his sides.  “We’re not talking, you’re just yelling at me, and I didn’t even do anything!”

“It’s not what you do; it’s what you don’t do.  You never even want to spend time with me anymore!  I feel like you only want me around when it’s convenient for you!” you shout, voice wavering.

Something shifts in his eyes then, as he stares at you from across the room.  He looks hurt, offended almost, more angry about what you just said than at any previous point in your argument.

“That’s not true.”

“Really?” you press, enthralled by his aura, his usual lighthearted demeanor being replaced with one oozing with dominance.  With desire.

“Of course I want to be with you.  Always,” he says, voice low.  Assertive.  Sexy.

“Then prove it.”

He’s on you in a matter of seconds, hands grabbing your face and lips crashing against yours.  Your own hands find themselves on either side of his slim waist, still sticky from sweat and exertion.  He pushes you up against the counter, melding your bodies impossibly closer as his tongue slips into your mouth.  The kiss is messy, filthy, nothing like the two of you normally do during your lazy makeout sessions.  His leg is slotted between both of yours, and the tensing of his thigh against your core as he moves to lean over you makes you heady with want.

Suddenly, you’re turned around in his hold, your back flush to his front, hiding nothing from you as you feel the hardness in his pants growing against your ass.  He’s frenzied, his normally delicate touches replaced with rough grabs, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, the other dipping below the hem of your skirt to run along the damp folds of your panties.  He brings his lips to your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Want me to show you what I never get tired of tasting?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, letting him half-drag, half-carry you over to the living room and ease you onto the couch, the first gentle touch from him since this whole thing began.  That turns out to be short lived, as the next thing you know he’s on his knees in front of you, flinging your legs apart and waiting for your almost imperceptible nod before moving your panties to the side and bringing his mouth to you.

He devours your pussy, licking up and down your center and sucking on your clit.  You moan his name, and you can feel him smile against you as he focuses his tongue on teasing your clit with little kitten licks while ramming two of his fingers inside you.  Normally it takes you begging to get him to be this rough with you, but something about your fight must have got him really riled up, and you weren’t about to complain.

After bringing you to the brink of your high a few times but never quite enough to send you over, he lifts his head from between your legs, mouth dripping with your essence, and moves behind you on the couch, gently positioning you on your hands and knees.  He leans his whole body over yours, again whispering his question in your ear.

“Can I fuck you like this?”

You rarely do it from behind, but every time you have you’ve loved it, so you nod your head eagerly, letting out a breathy “yes.”

He’s ready as soon as you say so, pushing into you with such force you jolt forward slightly, your laughter-tinged gasp giving him a sign of just how much you enjoy it.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, kitten?” he purrs, lifting you up off your arms so your torso rests on his chest.

“Yes… fuck... Felix, please more.”

He draws out then pushes back in, picking up the pace each time.  Soon he’s pounding into you, his left arm supporting your hip and his right arm wrapped loosely around your neck as you lean against him.  The way his cock is angled is causing him to hit you perfectly each time, and you’re moaning his name again as you feel his quick hot breaths next to your ear.

“You promise to never doubt how much I want you?” he growls out, voice strained from the effort not to release just yet.

“Yes, yes, Felix I promise, please let me cum, please.”

“Let go for me baby.”

You reach your peak at the same time, his groan in sync with your high pitched scream.

When you’re both aware enough to speak again, Felix pulls you down to sit between his legs, leaning you against his chest.

“You were right,” he starts, voice sincere, “about - about earlier.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was all that time and I’m sorry for leaving you alone when I promised we’d spend the evening together.”

You look up at him, wanting to apologize as well.  “I’m sorry about what I said.  I know you’re not intentionally neglecting me.  I’ve just been upset recently that we don’t have a lot of time together anymore.  But I should have told you that earlier; I shouldn’t have brought that up in an argument.”

“So we’re even then?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You give him a playful punch to the chest, smiling.  “Yeah, we’re even.”

“Then I think it’s time for round two.”

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel [Pt. 15- Final Chapter]

Geralt of Rivia x fem! reader

A/N- This is officially the end of my book, and I want to thank you all for sparing the time to read it. Thank you! 🤍

Warnings: fluff and soft Geralt

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

Geralt grumbled under his breath, yet his movements were quiet; stealthy like a cat as he didn't want to wake you. You were almost due to give birth, and Geralt didn't want to disturb your sleep, because you hardly got any. Although it was strangely pleasing to him to watch you try to pacify your baby, sometimes stroking your bump, or sometimes singing to it, and he didn't want to admit he secretly loved it, he was happy the baby was calm today, and you were peacefully asleep.

He entered your shared bedroom back in your home in Redania where he now mostly spent his time, when he was not out hunting monsters, that was. His armour was soiled with gore, fragments of the kikimora's intestines, and he wanted nothing more than to drown himself into a bath, and relax but he didn't want to wake you up.

The size of the body the man had, silence was the least dominant trait that he had. As he took off his armour, the armour fell from his hand, crashing against the floor with the clatter that woke you up instantly.

"Fuck, who's there?" You almost sat up in bed, grabbing a nearby empty pitcher of water in your grip, ready to throw it at whoever it was, your mind slightly disoriented as you had been asleep.

"It's just me," Geralt grumbled, frowning at how clumsy he was, immediately bending and picking up his armour. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room, and when you saw him, you slowly slid out of the bed and waddled towards him.

"What have you done to yourself, my love? You look like a piss pot."

"Hm, blame the kikimora," Geralt grumbled, under his breath, and you ended up chuckling as he tried to shoo you back into bed, waving his hands.

"Didn't mean to wake you, go to bed, [Y/N]."

"It's okay, Geralt. Let me draw your bath," You motioned to him to take off his dirty clothes while you decided to warm some water so he could take a bath.

Geralt didn't let you carry the pails of water yourself, of course and neither could you. In fact, it was difficult for you to climb the stairs owing to the fact that your bump was blocking your view of your feet.

You watched as he slid into the warm water, his body immediately relaxing as the soothing touch of the heat hit his sore body.

"I can't wait to give birth, Geralt," you mumbled as you sat against the edge of the bed, rubbing a paste that you had created over your swollen ankles, as much as you could bend, while Geralt relaxed in the bathtub, his eyes flicking occasionally towards you and a small smile graced his lips at the sight of you.

When Geralt didn't reply, you lifted your gaze, fixing it on him, noticing how he was staring at you. His lips were curved— so minutely, that only you and Jaskier could understand now, little details about him, like when he was amused, or in a jestful mood. You stood up, letting the vessel down on the bed, and walked up to fix yourself behind your Witcher's back, your hands coming to rest against the base of his neck as you began scrubbing him. Geralt of Rivia's company had taught to treat silence as bliss.

"What was that?" You frowned as you looked up at the wooden door of your bedroom. You had been sitting against the headboard of your bed, while Geralt was laying on your lap, almost having dozed off; your fingers gently stroking through his locks, lulling him into an even deeper sleep.

The words had barely escaped your lips, and Geralt was up, rigid and alert, like a wolf. He jumped, in one movement, standing by your bed, his hand drawn towards you, his palm raised, motioning you to stay still as he grabbed his sword with the other hand.

"Jaskier? Is that you?" Geralt snarled, but the pounding outside your door didn't stop, and instead it worsened, the loud noise now giving you a headache, forcing you to press your hands against your ears.

Just as Geralt darted towards the door, ready to pull it open and see for himself as to exactly who this intruder was when suddenly, the door flung open, and a Cintran guard tossed Jaskier in, who fell on his knees where Geralt was.

"Geralt! Say something, I am being tossed about like a worthless sack of grain!" Jaskier dramatized, and you hurriedly slid against the edge of the bed while Geralt drew his sword towards the Cintran guard.

The guard turned, regarding you through the armoured helmet that covered his face partially, and then nodded to himself before his voice rang out, "My Queen, the Princess is here, as expected."

"Touch her, I'll break your fucking bones," Geralt growled, his grip on his sword tightening when suddenly, "Lower your weapons! I'm here to talk," a familiar voice commanded, and you knew who it was. You pressed your lips together in a slight anger, both your hands coming to rest protectively against your swollen belly.

Calanthe entered, her eyes falling first thing on the Witcher and her frown widened, before she turned towards you, "Knew I'd find you here."

You bit your lip, eyeing her carefully, when Geralt began speaking, and her head shot towards him.

"If you're here to drag her to that King who fucked his own sister, then it's too late."

You nodded at Geralt's words, immediately rushing to Geralt's side, stepping behind him, grabbing on to his hand that wasn't holding the sword, your fingers entwining with his, "Yes, mother. My baby will not be a bastard anymore. We're married now."

"I'm not here to ask you to marry Foltest, I'm here to—" she stopped talking, throwing out her hands towards you, trying to nudge you to go to her but you stayed by Geralt's side, "I'm here to take you home. Your Kingdom needs you. I need you. If the Witcher is who you desire then, I give my blessings."

"What?" You and Jaskier said almost together, and you almost choked on a gasp.

"All my life, I thought you were dead and then I found you only to lose you again. Come home, I can't rule a Kingdom anymore, I need you to sit on that throne."

The shock of it all was hard to process. You gasped, tightening your grip on Geralt's hand and he turned towards you with a frown, "You okay?"

"A throne? This is too much."

"You were born for this, [Y/N]." Calanthe continued.

Suddenly, your mind began zoning out the voices, and the voices of Geralt, Calanthe and Jaskier were just background noises to you. You felt something wet slide down the inside of your legs, and your eyes widened. Your breathing laboured suddenly as a sudden cramp tore through your stomach, all too suddenly, and you whelp escaped your lips, causing Geralt to turn towards you.

"I don't think.. I can think of any throne right now.. mother.. I think the baby is coming."

That was, perhaps, the fastest journey Geralt had made, to the village to get the midwife, while Calanthe stayed with you.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Calanthe wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand and you growled at her, "Then what exactly am I doing mother? You are not helping!! I would rather have you switch places with Jask'."

"Leave me out of this. I have a history of fainting at the sight of a lot of blood," Jaskier called out from outside the room, and you groaned in pain, and part annoyance, now aware that he was lurking right outside your door.

You screamed as another contraction tore through your body, the midwife having finally arrived as Calanthe switched positions with her and you felt her squat down by your lower region. You tried breathing, preparing yourself for another crippling contraction, spreading your legs and arching your back, as Calanthe tried to soothe you.

"Geralt, I fucking hate you for doing this to me! I hope you hear me!" You screamed in pain, even though you knew you would regret this later when you would have your baby pressed to your chest.

The sun set, and the sun rose again the next day; but your screaming didn't die. It was only when the sun was right above your home did the first cries of your girl finally fill your shack. Tears of joy flew freely through your eyes, and your mother's as she pressed the babe to her chest, looking down at her slightly golden eyes in awe.

"She's got Geralt's eyes," she whispered to you, as you let out a sob, and weakly threw out your hands so you would hold her in your arms. She was so tiny, and so perfect, her eyes like Geralt, a tuft of golden white locks already on top of her otherwise bald head.

"Mother, can you take her? I feel.. like all my energy is gone."

"Lay down and close your eyes, child. You've birthed a baby, and that isn't easy as the menfolk think it is. I have her," she took her from your arms, and you smiled weakly at the sight before you let your eyes shut.

You were in a dreamless slumber, your slumber so deep that even Jaskier playing the lute against your ears would not have been enough to wake you up.

After a long time, you stirred in your sleep, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

The sight in front of you, as you propped yourself up against your elbows, made your heart swell with love. Geralt sat on a chair, his eyes pressed shut, his chest rising up and down the only movement that you could see, holding your daughter close to his chest. The little babe looked tiny as compared to the Witcher's bulky frame, yet this was the softest sight you had ever seen. You slid to the edge of the bed, letting the bare pads of your feet brush against the cold floorboards as you pushed your still sore body up. Just then, Jaskier entered the room, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

You smiled when you saw that he was holding the blanket that you had knitted for the baby when you had found out of the pregnancy.

"Here," he whispered in a low voice so he didn't wake the father and the daughter as he threw out his hand towards you. You only shook your head and pointed towards Geralt.

"Scared to put it on him?" You joked, your voice a whisper too.

"For the first time, I don't want to ruin the moment," he smiled, as he pulled you into a side hug and you almost sniffled dramatically, pouting, "Well, Jaskier. Aren't you in love?"

"Princess, I'm not ashamed to say I'm in love with her. She is the best thing that's happened to us."

"Oh, Jaskier—" You blurted out, a little too loud, and the Witcher grumbled slightly, stirring from his sleep as he fluttered his eyes open; the first thing his eyes falling on being the baby in his arms, and then up at you.

Geralt smiled and nodded, as you walked up to him, lowering yourself on his thigh, carefully placing your palm on top of her head.

"She's perfect, my love," Geralt whispered, and you nodded, wrapping your arm around his neck, letting your head rest against his.

It was the calm before the storm.

You stood by the massive window of your chambers, staring at the city ahead of you— Cintra.

Your Kingdom, your home, which you now ruled, with your Witcher by your side.

"What are you thinking, love?"

The familiar rasp of a voice made you turn towards him, a faint smile breaking out against your lips. Geralt was propped on his elbow, his naked chest glistening as a ray of sunshine fell directly on him, his lower body wrapped in the silkiest of the blankets.

"I have an ill feeling, Geralt."

"Come to bed, love. Let me make you feel better," Geralt smirked, as he patted on the empty side of your bed but before you could, a loud babble of a baby filled the room.

Both you and Geralt turned towards the door, watching your one year old taking baby steps towards the two of you.

"How the hell?" Geralt muttered, when Jaskier darted into the room; his hair unkempt, paint caked on his cheeks and his shirt. He grabbed Fiona in his arms, and swung her up and the little girl cackled in glee, making you grin.

"Sorry, I was just teaching her how to paint. She ran off with my brushes," he sheepishly grinned before his eyebrow shot up and he eyed Geralt, "Don't let my interference stop whatever the two of you were planning to do. Perhaps, planning a sibling for her."

Geralt grunted under his breath, while you ended up snorting to his comment, shaking your head, "That's not happening, Jaskier. I'm done with mages and their spells. Now run along, we've got things to do."

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha @vikingsbifrost @babypink224221 @jessyballet @strrynigxts @rn7rocks @theroyalbrownbarbie @amirra88 @naughty-koala07 @xuxszx @iminlovewithenchilidadas

[separatist-apologist]

"truth is that i'm so damn in love with you that i don't know what to do with myself" - for lucien please!!

I'm so sorry I've fallen behind on prompts! I will be answering them all with a vengeance this upcoming week. Also, I hope you wanted smut.

This is NSFW, 18+, you know the editing vibes (non-existent).

--

Friends. That’s what Elain had said almost a year ago when he approached her. I don’t want a mate…but I could use a friend. Lucien had jumped at the chance to spend time with her. After all, something was better than nothing, right?

Wrong, he realized practically a month later. Even without the mating bond, Lucien thought he would have been utterly obsessed with her. Who knew how lively Elain could be? Or funny? Smart, and sharp and witty…she was everything he could have hoped for and much, much more. Friends. The word tasted sharp and metallic in his mouth, like blood pouring down his throat, threatening to drown him. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. I don’t want to be your friend! He thought even as he smiled and escorted her from this court or that. He had made her a promise, and Lucien thought it was better to have her however he could get her than to not have her at all. Still, sometimes when she looked at him with those soft, brown eyes, the edges creased with fondness, he could pretend she loved him too.

Because Lucien was in love with Elain. Stupidly, head over heels in love with the female in a way that both terrified andthrilled him. She was all he thought about, all he dreamt of. Her smile made his bones ache and her laugh threatened to consume him with burning, passionate fire. They were back in Velaris, their time together officially complete. Rhysand had nothing for the pair of them and so Elain was unpacking as she chattered animatedly with her sisters and Lucien lay down the hall, face down into a pillow. Tomorrow he’d continue on his own, leaving her behind and why shouldn’t he? They were friends. Friends didn’t need to spend every waking moment together.

He didn’t move even when Feyre knocked for dinner. He heard the door open a second time when the sun went down and smelled Elain even before he saw her.

“Tired?” She asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Waiting for death to take me, he thought as he turned his head to face her. “A little.”

She brushed his hair out of his face with her fingers and Lucien tried to pretend the gesture had no effect on him.

“Tomorrow is going to be strange,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his. “You leaving…me staying. Who will make my tea in the morning?”

Lucien’s insides shriveled to dust. “I’m sure you could ask one of the servants.”

She nodded, her eyes becoming glassy with thought. “Yeah…it won’t be the same, thought.” Lucien could agree with that. Come with me! His mind screamed. Instead, he closed his eyes as she continued to stroke little pieces of hair off his face, the pads of her fingertips zapping electricity through his veins.

“Will you come to dinner with me, at least?” She asked gently. Lucien would rather eat his own hand than pretend everything was fine.

“I’m not hungry,” he told her petulantly. She withdrew her hand, biting her bottom lip.

“I knew it. You’re angry with me.”

Lucien pushed himself off his chest to sit on the bed. “What?” He asked dumbly.

“You’re angry. Why?” She asked, her chin trembling.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her, standing quickly. She looked up him with defiance.

“Then come to dinner with me.”

“No,” he replied, fear bubbling in his blood.

“Because you’re mad—”

“Fuck, Elain! The truth is I’m so damn in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself!” He all but shouted, fisting his hands at his sides. Her mouth fell open, but Lucien couldn’t stop not that he’d started. “You want a friend and I want to be that for you, but I don’t wantto go downstairs and pretend I’m not gonna miss every single inch of you when I leave. We can go back to friendship in the morning but right now, I want to be alone.”

Her eyes were glassy again, her cheeks burning red, and he wondered if he’d taken things too far. He took a hesitant half-step towards her. “Elain, I’m—”

“Finally,” She breathed before launching herself into his arms, her mouth covering his before he could finish his apology. Lucien clutched her against his chest, groaning into her mouth with both suppressed need and his exuberance. Kissing, kissing, mate is kissing—

His mate was also quickly unbuttoning his pants, he thought, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

“Took you forever,” she gasped against his lips, letting him pick her up, his hands bracing her ass like seat. “Started to think—ah, Lucien—you didn’t like me at all.”

He nipped down her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, dress bunched up to expose her underwear to his aching, now freed cock. The position was awkward; his pants tangled around his legs, his shirt covered his chest and yet Lucien could not be bothered to fix any of it. Now,the mating instinct screamed. Have her now.

Elain pulled the scrap of fabric between him and her to the side and Lucien slid in, hissing at the slickness already pooling between her thighs.

“How long?” He demanded, pressing her back against a wall. Elain squeezed her thighs around his body.

“Forever,” she replied, her eyes closed. “Since Winter at least.”

God, he thought, his eyes rolling in his head. That had been nearly seven months ago. He’d loved her just as long. The knowledge that he could have had her as he was taking her then, up against a wall because he couldn’t stand being parted for the few seconds it would take him to walk back to the bed, was enough to drive him to madness. Lucien thrusted into her as Elain clawed at his hair, tangling her fingers in what was left of his ponytail.

“Should have told me,” Lucien grunted before kissing her with all the pent up, scorched heat he felt. Elain gave him as good as he got, her tongue already in his mouth establishing her dominance. She could have him however she liked.

“Didn’t want to mess everything up,” she gasped, her breath sweet against his face. Lucien’s arms ached from holding her and his cock throbbed, unable to fully bury himself within her.

Lucien snarled even as he pulled out, tossing her to the bed as he kicked himself out of his pants. Elain was fumbling with the buttons of her dress, as though he cared about that. Lucien spread her legs as wide as he could, growling softly with approval at the gleaming wet he found looking back between bright pink lips.

She began to pull the dress up over her head, her hips shimmying as though she meant to escape him. It felt like running and Lucien couldn’t help the way he reached for her, dragging her pussy to his face and burying himself in it before she got away. Mine, you are mine—

Elain squealed, still trying to free herself from the fabric. Lucien had no inclination to help, licking her with desperation. She tasted good,better than he’d imagined, somehow musky and sweet.

“Lucien,” she gasped when his tongue swiped over her clit. She ground against his face like she knew what she was doing, drawing her knees up and pinning him in place. She reached for his hair and pushed, demanding he stay where he was. Lucien’s hips bucked involuntarily, rubbing against the soft fabric of the bed to alleviate some of his arousal.

“Lucien,” she gasped again, her thighs quivering. He withdrew his mouth with a smirk and lifted her legs in the air, holding them against his chest. He rubbed the crown of his cock against her dripping cunt before pulling off his tunic and shirt.

“Close?” He asked, arching a brow. She whined, trying to pull him in. Lucien took himself in his hand and rubbed deliberately, using her own slickness and the head of his penis to rub slow circles around her quivering, swollen clit. She arched her back with trembling breath.

“Yes,” she gasped and Gods how he wanted to watch her fall apart like this.

“Do you want to come?” He asked. She nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. Up, up, up, she keened only for Lucien to withdraw his cock and sheathe himself inside her. He replaced the tip against her clit with his thumb, fucking and he rubbed. She was breathy, eyes open and locked on his face and so damn loud.

There was no mistaking what was happening in his room. He was sure the whole house could hear them, not that Elain seemed to care. Close, he could tell she was close giving how she was rhythmically clenching around him and how she panted through her pretty red lips.

“Lucien,” she whispered, a warning. He wanted it, wanted to knowwhat she felt like when she was lost to ecstasy. He pumped, her wet heat killing him with each stroke. Nothing had ever felt half as good in his life and he didn’t believe anything ever would, again.

She came with a scream, her cunt sucking him deeper, leaving him no breathing room, just his cock and the walls of her pussy he felt stretched over him. She yanked on his arms, pulling him down to kiss her as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed with the sensations. So much was happening; he could still taste her on his mouth, could feel nothing but how incredible it was to be inside her and yet the kissing only heightened that.

He was building, too. His muscles tightened and Lucien let himself go. She swallowed his cry as he pushed as far as he could go, trying to become two souls that shared the same flesh. She dug her nails into his ass, holding him there.

Lucien collapsed carefully, withdrawing himself so he wouldn’t crush her. “Fuck.”

She giggled, nuzzling her head into his chest as he yanked blankets up over their bodies. “That was nice.”

“I love you too, you know,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

Lucien smiled.

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. “I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

[seongsangi]

playing games

pairing: jaehyun x reader x jaemin

summary: you meet jaehyun and jaemin for the first time at a lake house during summer break. they quickly take a liking to you, pulling you into a game you don't want to lose.

word count: 8.2k+

genre: more smutttt

warnings/tags: a little bit of drinking, this one’s kinda nasty (in a good way)...

You and your best friend went to different colleges, but you kept in touch with each other every day. It was hard not seeing her all the time like you used to, so you and her would spend time together every summer and winter break. Sometimes she'd come home and sometimes you'd take a trip up to see her. This summer break, it was your turn to visit her and spend a few weeks together before coming back home.

As the days passed by just enjoying each other's company at her cozy studio apartment, she gets a text from her friends from school. They want to go to a lake house and spend a week there with a group of friends. It'll be 8 people in total: you, your friend, her two other girl friends (call them S and M), and a few guys named Jaehyun, Jaemin, Lucas, Taeyong, and Johnny. You told your friend that you might feel a little awkward around them, especially since you've never met them before but she assures you that they're all easy to get along with and they love meeting new people.

"Trust me, you'll love them! Don't be shyyy, would you rather stay here with me in my boring apartment or you wanna go to the lake?" You sigh, admitting that having a little getaway in a lakehouse does sound like fun.

You all plan to meet up the next day and take two cars, guys and girls riding separately. The drive is two hours away, but you quickly become friends with the girls in the car, playing loud music as you drive down the highway singing your hearts out and talking about the guys riding in the car behind them.

Your friend slips that S and M have crushes on Johnny and Taeyong and that's mainly the reason why they planned this getaway.

"What the hell, so you didn't tell Y/N that you like Lucas?" One of them asks defensively. You look at your friend in disbelief because she didn't mention that she liked anyone, much less someone you're going on a trip with!

"BITCH WHO IS LUCAS TELL ME ALL ABOUT HIM??" You quickly badger your friend, now excited to meet the guy she likes and has been keeping a secret from you. You're not mad about it, you're more happy for her that she finally found someone.

"Chilllll, I don't like him like thattt," she drags, obviously lying. "But I do like being around him... he's so hot but such a dork at the same time and makes me feel all giddy whenever I'm with him or talk to him."

"Do you think he likes you back?" you ask.

"I don't know, maybe? I haven't asked but we do talk quite a bit so the feeling might be mutual. Damn, I don't know, I guess I'll take my chances and find out this week," she winks at you and you're already egging her on. You were so pumped to meet the guys they like.

You ask, "What about the other two guys? Jaehyun and Jaemin?" They were too busy talking about their own crushes that no one mentioned them.

"They're cool, we don't have anything against them, I just like Taeyong more," S chimes in and you swear you could see her turn into the heart eyes emoji.

"Yeah, those guys hang out in their own circle, they're always together so we invited everyone to hang out. I would have felt weird if I didn't invite them too," M adds.

Your friend nudges you with her elbow, "They're both single... you never know what could happen." She's always teasing you, and you slap her arm. Everyone laughs, thinking nothing more of it.

Once you get to the lake house, you're shocked by how nice it looks just on the outside. And the inside is to die for. There are five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Jaehyun and Jaemin in one room while Johnny, Lucas, and Taeyong in another. You and your friend share one, while S and M in another. There'll be an extra master bedroom not used by anyone, presumably where M's parents would stay when they come up here. The bathrooms look like they came straight out of a home makeover show. You note that M's parents must be loaded to have such an extravagant place. As you walk around the house, you notice there's a boat in the garage.

"You didn't tell us you had a boat!" You say to her, eager to get out on the lake already.

"Oh, shit I didn't? Go get dressed, we'll take it for a spin when the guys get here." You set your stuff down in the room you share with your best friend, and put on the cute new royal blue bathing suit you bought for the occasion, your favorite color.

"Damnnn, that looks good as hell on you," your best friend comments, making you shy. "You might just steal all our men while you're here," she teases. You both laugh it off, hyping your friend up when she puts on her pink bathing suit and head out to the back.

Just then, the guys pull up and you and your friend walk to their car to introduce yourself. As they get out of the car, you're stunned by how good looking they all are. You've never seen a group of guys that attractive. You can definitely see why the girls fell for them.

"Finally, you're here!" Your friend yells, giving them all a hug as you stand by. "We're about to get on the boat, so go get dressed. But first, this is my best friend Y/N! She's from my hometown and she's visiting me right now so she came along too."

You exchange greetings with everyone, trying to remember their names since this is the first time you're meeting them. You pay special attention to Lucas since he's the one your best friend has her eyes on, and you can't blame her. He's hella tall, has a gorgeous smile, contagious laugh, and his voice is much deeper than you expected it to be. Johnny is the tallest one and he's got a cute smile that could draw any girl in. Taeyong has these sharp eyes that you could get lost in and see why S is all heart eyes for him.

Jaehyun and Jaemin are the two that really catch your eye though. Jaehyun has deep dimples that make your heart swoon and Jaemin beams down at you with a bright smile to match that perfect face of his, you swear he's not even real. Neither of them seem real to you, and you suddenly feel nervous again. You know the other three guys are off limits but you know these two are single, suddenly becoming very aware that while everyone else is trying to get in each other's pants, you three don't have any attraction towards each other. You tell yourself it's gonna be awkward around these three couples.

As the boys are unloading their stuff from the car, you and your friend head to the garage where S and M are waiting. You don't notice the way Jaehyun and Jaemin look at each other before they turn their gaze to you, thinking to themselves that this trip might not be bad after all.

Lucas and Jaehyun brought out a cooler full of drinks, obviously ready to get the party started. "Someone's gotta drive the boat though, so they can't drink." You all play rock paper scissors, and Johnny ends up having to drive. You can tell he's super disappointed about not being able to drink.

"You lost, Suh, now take us out on the lake." Lucas mocks, popping open a can of beer and teasing Johnny. He cranks up the music and everyone gets to chatting with one another. You love the way the wind whips past you as Johnny speeds up. You take in the beautiful view of the blue water, stretching as far as you can see. Houses are lined along the shore, taking notice of how extravagant each of them look. The sun is hot and beaming right on you from where you're sitting at the front of the boat with no shade. You pull out some sunscreen from your bag, not wanting to get burned as you so easily do.

"Oh, damn I forgot mine. Could I get some of yours?" Jaehyun asks across from you. You hand it to him with a soft smile, and his hand brushes past yours as he reaches for it. You're sure that wouldn't have happened with the way you handed it to him unless he did it on purpose, but you shrug it off. As he's putting the sunscreen on, you can't help but take a longer look at him, noticing his defined abs and beautiful skin. He's quite literally glowing, but you don't know if it's the sun or if that's how he actually looks...

He looks up for a second and you quickly turn your head away, not trying to get caught staring at someone you just met 10 minutes ago.

"Where'd you get this from?" Jaemin asks as Jaehyun hands the tube to him. 

"Y/N let me borrow it, put some on unless you wanna get burned." Jaemin takes his shirt off before lathering the sunscreen on, and again, you're staring at someone you just met 10 minutes ago. Jaemin is less toned than Jaehyun, but he's got broad shoulders that you can't help but look at. Jaehyun is looking off into the distance, and Jaemin is too busy putting sunscreen on that neither of them notice your eyes darting back and forth between the two. You don't know who you're more interested in, but from the way they look right now, it might just be both...

"Y/N!!! Want a drink?" She holds up a bottle of Ciroq and you're having a flashback to the last time you went on a boat ride.  

"Bitch, you know what happened last time," you yell back at her. She laughs, clearly remembering. "Just don't drink so much this time!" You comply, taking a quick swig of the bottle instead of opting for a mixed drink. A few sips wouldn't hurt, you tell yourself.

"Can you pour us some?" Jaemin asks, holding his and Jaehyun's cup out, half full of Sprite already.

"Tell me when," you say as you start pouring. He doesn't say when until both their cups are half Sprite, half Ciroq.

"Damn, that's a lot though," you comment, knowing you wouldn't be able to handle what they're having. They both just laugh as you give the bottle back to your friend and take your seat again across from them.

"So tell us about what happened last time," Jaehyun says to you, intrigued to hear your story. You suddenly feel embarrassed, not wanting to tell them how much you drank and how messed up you were afterwards. It's not a time you would like to go back to, but you can't say you didn't have good laughs thinking about it afterwards. You tell them what happened and they're in disbelief, laughing with you over how silly the story sounds. You got so drunk off the green apple that you were crying the entire car ride home. You don't even know what you were crying about, that's just how fucked up you were.

"You only took like three swigs and you were THAT fucked up?" Jaehyun asks, already halfway through his drink. You're staring at him like HE'S the crazy one, drinking so much in such a short time.

"Yeah, well, I've never been good at handling my alcohol. Give me that, you can't have any more, you're gonna end up like me." You reach to grab his drink out of his hands but he holds it away from him and you almost fall on top of him. He laughs as you stumble, taking another swig and boasting that he's pretty good with drinking.

"We both are, unlike someone," Jaemin teases, obviously talking about you. You roll your eyes at the remark, feigning annoyance before you successfully grab Jaemin's cup from his hand since you couldn't get Jaehyun's.

"I made half the drink for you, I think I can have it now," you say with a smile, teasing him back. He stares at you as you take a drink from his cup, keeping your eyes locked on him so you can feel like you got the upper hand. You feel more comfortable with them now even though you haven't been here for long. I guess people really can bond over drinks.

The boat comes to a halt and Johnny announces, "If anyone wants to go swim, do it now. We're just gonna chill here for a bit." Taeyong, Lucas, Johnny, and the girls are excited, finally getting a chance to get in the water.

"Are you gonna go?" Jaehyun asks, nodding his head to the group of people jumping into the water.

"No, I can't swim. Are you guys gonna go?" Jaehyun shakes his head while Jaemin is getting revved up to jump in the water too. You watch him as he dives in and comes back up, hair wet and that beautiful smile on his face. You turn your body around to face the crowd, watching them splash each other and have a good time, leaving Jaehyun to admire you without you knowing. He's tracing the curves of your body, loving the way the royal blue looks on you. He's only seen you in one outfit, but he's sure that color suits you the best. He's staring hard, and he's glad no one can see the way he's devouring you with his eyes. He gets up and stands next to you, resting his hands on the edge of the boat, watching all his friends but he just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

Your best friend swims towards the boat and suddenly splashes water at you, laughing as you retreat from her attack. Everyone else joins in, splashing water into the boat at you and Jaehyun since neither of you were getting in the water.

"Stop, you're getting everything wet!" You yell at them, throwing your bag to the other side to protect your belongings. They eventually stop and go back to swimming, leaving you and Jaehyun to wipe the seats down. You decide if you weren't going to swim, then you were going to have fun in your own way. You down the rest of Jaemin's drink as Jaehyun stares at you incredulously. "Hold on, don't go too crazy."

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing a Seagram and telling him not to worry. "I'm a big girl, I can handle this much," you smile at him. You both take your seats as everyone starts to get on the boat again. The sun is starting to set and Johnny makes his way back to the house. Jaemin approaches his seat, wiping his body and hair with the towel he brought, looking a little too good with wet hair.

"The water was so cold at first," he says, telling Jaehyun he should have went in.

"I didn't want to leave Y/N alone," he says so you couldn't hear. Jaemin catches on quickly, knowing that Jaehyun has taken a bit of a liking to you. He watches as you stare at the water and lets his eyes roam your body, much like Jaehyun did earlier. He can see why Jaehyun would be a bit attracted to you, he couldn't help but feel a little pull himself. The way your bathing suit accentuates your breasts has him imagining all sorts of things.

"Y/N, did you have fun today?" Jaemin calls out to you, drawing you from your thoughts. You turn a bit too fast to look at them and you can tell the alcohol is kicking in. Your head feels heavy and the boat is moving so fast, you don't know if you can keep up. You don't feel as drunk as you did last time, but you're definitely feeling something.

"Yeah, I had fun," you reply, finishing the last of your drink and getting up to throw it away in the trash bag someone brought along. You can't tell if you're wobbly because the boat is moving or if it's because you're actually wobbly from the drinks. "Oh shit, maybe I shouldn't have drank Jaemin's drink," you laugh at Jaehyun, who shakes his head in an "I told you so" manner.

"You drank it all? There was still a lot left," Jaemin asks in disbelief. "You were just telling us you're bad with alcohol." "What can I say? I already drank it all," you shrug at him with a smile.

"You're crazy," he laughs, "but we'll take good care of you if you want."

You don't know what he means by that, but you're imagining it's not as innocent as it may seem.

When you make your way back to the house, everyone heads off to shower. You all meet downstairs afterwards. S and M are making dinner with the help of Johnny and Taeyong. You see your best friend and Lucas on the couch, watching something on TV. You don't see Jaehyun or Jaemin, thinking they're probably still in their room. 

Wait, they didn't give me back my sunscreen. You head upstairs to their room and knock on the door, to which someone says "It's open." You peek into the room and see Jaehyun lounging on the bed and Jaemin in the bathroom with the door wide open. He's only dressed in a towel and wiping his hair, presumably fresh out the shower. You avert your eyes quickly, not wanting to stare for any longer than you have to. Jaehyun perks up at the sight of you and asks what's up.

"Uh, I just wanted to ask for my sunscreen," you say from the door, not wanting to step fully into their room.

"Oh, it's in our bag somewhere, just come in, I'll get it for you." Jaehyun hops off the bed and turns to the bathroom to look for it. You walk in and stand awkwardly by the door. Jaemin comes out and you're trying your best not to gawk at him, knowing he's got nothing but a towel on. He smirks, and you can just feel it without even looking at him. You watch the TV and notice some movie is on. "Jaehyun, are you watching Insidious?" you ask him, trying to distract yourself from the fine ass man in your periphery. It's one of your favorite horror movies and you'd recognize it anywhere.

"Yeah it was just playing so I was watching it. I think I left it on the boat, sorry about that. I'll get it for you tomorrow," he says, coming back into the room. "It's okay! Sooo, can I watch the movie with you?" He hums in agreement, jumping back in bed as you sit on the edge, not wanting to get too close to him. Jaemin comes into view fully dressed this time, thank goodness. He lays in bed next to Jaehyun and all three of you watch. The part that scared you the most when you first watched it is about to come up, and you cover your eyes.

"I like scary movies but I still cover my eyes when I know something's about to happen," you say out loud to them. Sneaky Jaemin is inching closer to you, waiting for the scene you're talking about to come up. He grabs you and screams at the same time the scene you're dreading pops up, making you jump and scream even louder. Your heart races and you yell "What the fuck, Jaemin!" The two are laughing at your reaction and you slap him on his arm.

"You can't tell me that wasn't funny," he mocks you and you're ready to beat his ass before you hear someone yell "dinner's ready." You storm out of their room embarrassed.

The next few days you guys spend together are filled with the same antics, Jaemin teasing you and Jaehyun laughing at everything you two do. You're getting real tired of both of them at this point, Jaemin for never leaving you alone and Jaehyun for egging him on every time. But you can't say you don't enjoy spending time with them. They always manage to make you laugh even if they do frustrate the hell out of you sometimes. You find yourself gravitating towards them, since the other couples are also focused on themselves. You didn't want to cockblock anyone, so you let them have their alone time together whenever you saw them around the house. You notice your best friend leaves your shared room late at night, gone for a few hours doing who knows what with Lucas.

Jaemin was always getting on your nerves, jump scaring you every chance he got. When you turn a corner, he'd be there to surprise you. When you turn around and almost bump into him, he'd tell you to watch where you're going but it's obvious he was the one getting in your way. You've thrown so many punches his way to get him to stop messing with you, but he just says it's fun every single time with that annoying ass perfect smile of his. Jaehyun on the other hand was more flirty with you and you've definitely noticed. He wasn't exactly being subtle with it either. He'd say "good morning beautiful" to you when he got the chance, or he'd always choose the seat next to you when there are plenty of other ones open. He'd smile at you with those cute ass dimples and you'd look away quickly, not wanting to fall for his charm. His hand would brush against yours or he'd hold your waist to get past you, feigning an "excuse me" just to touch you. You'd look up and catch him staring at you, and he doesn't even look away when you notice. It's like he's challenging you, knowing he's getting under your skin and making you feel some type of way.

One evening, you wake up from a nap to a quiet house. A text from your best friend says they went out to get food for dinner and it's just you, Jaehyun, and Jaemin at home. You dread it already, you don't even want to be alone with them and have to put up with their antics again. You walk into the kitchen to see the two making themselves a quick snack. You sit at the counter, asking Jaehyun to pretty please make you a sandwich.

"You've got hands, do it yourself," Jaemin says to you without looking up from what he was doing. You get up from your seat and start hitting him, "I didn't ask you. Jaehyun's nice to me, he'll make me one, right?" He's already getting it ready for you and you love that about him.

Jaemin scoffs, and says under his breath, "Yeah duh cause he likes you."

Jaehyun yells at him, obviously not wanting you to know. You giggle, thinking it's cute he doesn't think you already know. You can tell from the way he's been acting around you and you feel like riling him up a bit. You walk towards Jaehyun, hands behind your back, and say in a sing-songy voice, "Really? I didn't know. Maybe I like him too," you tease, enjoying the way he looks away from you and back down to the sandwich.

"What's wrong? You're always staring at me when you think I'm not looking, but now you can't even look at me?" You tease further. He shoves the plate towards you, finished with your sandwich and takes his own plate to the couch. You and Jaemin look at each other, knowing you've got him right where you want him. You don't let up, following him to the couch and sitting right next to him as he always does with you. You cross your legs and snuggle a little closer to him, letting your thigh rest on his as you eat your sandwich and watch TV like you aren't obviously trying to get Jaehyun flustered. Jaemin comes to sit next to you and you're officially squished between the two. You didn't know Jaemin would sit right there and you look at him, telling him to move with your eyes. He shrugs and continues eating.

You all sit on the couch, watching something to pass the time. You get up first to put your plate away but when you come back, the two guys are holding their own plates out, signaling for you to put them away for them. You groan but you do it anyway since you're already up.

"Y/N can you get the remote?" Jaemin asks as you come back. It somehow ended up on the floor... ten feet away from them. "What the fuck how did it get over there?" You bend over to pick it up and you hear a "wow" from Jaemin. You look back at him to ask what he's talking about, but you don't even need to ask as he's staring at your ass, your shorts leaving little to the imagination. You didn't feel self conscious wearing shorts around them before because you didn't feel like you needed to, but with the way Jaemin is literally eye fucking you right now, you suddenly feel very shy. You tug your shorts down and throw the remote at him to get him to stop looking at you like that. Jaehyun didn't make any audible noise, but you can tell from the way he's looking at you and back to Jaemin that he felt the same way. You don't even want to sit next to them any more, giving up on messing with Jaehyun.

You're the one getting riled up this time, but you don't want them to know that. The way they're looking at you isn't something you can handle so you sit on the next couch away from them. They look at each other without you knowing and have their own game in mind now.

"Y/N, come back over here," you hear Jaehyun call out to you and pat the seat in between them. You don't even look in his direction and focus on the TV, giving him a firm no.

"He wasn't asking," Jaemin's voice dropped a couple octaves, making you tingle. You're afraid to look back at them, not wanting to play whatever game they were about to pull you into. You're getting turned on and they haven't even done anything but said a few words to you. You feel silly letting them get to you so quick. "You come here or we go over there."

You turn around but don't make a move to get up, just to look at them. They're staring at you with gazes you can't read, or maybe you can read them but you don't know if you're ready to decipher them. Jaehyun nods his head, beckoning for you to come back to your spot. Your heart is pounding now and your body starts to get really hot. You slowly make your way back towards them, their eyes pulling you in like they've got you under some spell. You don't sit down, just stand in front of them, unable to make eye contact with either of them.

They both reach for your hands at the same time, tugging you down and you have to catch yourself with your knees resting on the couch. Your back is now towards the TV and you're facing the back of the couch, an awkward position to say the least.

"Good girl," Jaehyun coos, making you clench around nothing as you feel yourself getting more turned on. "Now stay right there and don't move." He gets up and makes his way around the couch, standing in front of you as Jaemin stays beside you. "You listen to us better than I thought you would," Jaemin says, his hands sliding up your thighs. You start fidgeting, trying to turn back around and sit on the couch normally. He lands a hard slap on your ass and you whimper as the pain subsided into pleasure and you don't try to sit normally again.

"I said don't move," Jaehyun snarls, grabbing your chin to face him. "You thought you could get out of what you said earlier? You know I like you baby but that doesn't mean you can make fun of me in front of Jaemin." You turn a bit to look at Jaemin, and he's got that same annoying ass smile on his face, enjoying the way your ass is on display for him. Jaehyun roughly yanks your chin back in his direction, "Don't look at him, look at me."

You don't know what you should say in this moment, you're feeling extremely turned on with the way Jaehyun is talking to you and Jaemin's hand on your lower body isn't making things better. You're thinking what the fuck happened? You don't know how things turned 180 that quick. You're half embarrassed about what's going on right now, but the other half of you wants to see where things will go. You let the latter half take over. You're all alone right now, what's stopping you from beating them at their own game?

You arch your back more, pushing your ass further out for Jaemin to see and put on your best pout for the man in front of you. "Sorry Jaehyun, I didn't mean to make you upset," you whine at him, leaning on the back of the couch. You turn to look at Jaemin, shivering at the way his hand is caressing your ass. "Jaemin, that hurt," you fake pout at him too, "but I liked it." You quickly jump off the couch onto your feet before either of them can reach for you, boasting a flirty smile that has the two of them ready to pounce.

"Come get me," you sing, making a run for their room as soon as you see them both racing towards you. Your adrenaline is pumping and you love that they don't waste any time to follow you. You make it to their room before they do, locking it before they can barge in. They both bang on the door, impatient and eager to have their way with you for the stunt you just pulled on them.

"Y/N open the door, now." Jaehyun sounds so sexy when he's mad and you just want to keep pushing his buttons.

"What are you gonna do about it?" You can hear their footsteps trailing back downstairs, unsure of what's going on. Did they give up? Shit shit shit no wait come back. You wait a bit longer, to see if they really left. You hear them come back and you're about to say something when you hear a key in the door. You forgot that your friend told you where the keys to each room were in case you locked yourselves out for some reason. They both barge in, successfully opening the door and they don't look happy. Fuck.

They're glaring at you, and you feel small in their presence. You weren't prepared for this, this wasn't in your game plan. You don't know what to do any more. You back up as they make their way towards you, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed. "No, wait, I take it back I didn't mean it," you try to talk your way out of it but Jaemin pushes you onto the bed, not wanting to hear your excuses. You try to get away from them, but they're much stronger than you and hold you in place, Jaehyun's hands on your waist and Jaemin holding your legs down. You feel like you should be afraid, but you're actually getting wetter with each second. You weren't sure if you could handle either of them when they were looking at you in that way, let alone both of them at the same time.

"Do you like messing with us?" Jaemin asks, his hands sliding further up your legs.

"You mess with me all the time Jaemin," you retort, which earns you a slap on your thigh. "Don't talk back to me."

"Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to us this time?" Jaehyun slides his hands underneath your shirt, gliding across your stomach, getting close to your breasts.

You bite your lip, unbelievably wet at this point. "What are you gonna do?" you ask quietly, not sure if you're ready for their answer.

Jaemin moves away from your legs and sits in the middle of the bed. He holds your cheek and says in a low voice, "Mmm, we're gonna do so many things to you." You can't hold back your whimper, heart racing at all the thoughts running through your mind.

"You have to tell us if you want it though. We won't do anything without your consent." Even with the way they've been playing with you and eye fucking you downstairs, they still ask you in case you want to stop.

"Yes, I want it, I want both of you, fuck you guys are so hot" you breathe out, unable to play their game any longer. You want nothing more than for both of them to pleasure you and make you scream their names. You're up for anything and you want them to know. You're soaking through your panties, and you squeeze your legs together to get some kind of friction. "I'm so wet because of you," looking at both of them. Jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes trailing down your figure, taking note of the way you're squirming underneath him. Jaemin wastes no time in pulling your legs towards him. Jaehyun lifts your shirt up to expose your chest to him, pushing your bra up and going straight for your breasts. He kneads one with his hand and sucks on the other, going back and forth between the two. You love the way his tongue glides across your nipples, and you throw your head back when you feel Jaemin's hand rubbing at your core through your shorts. Both of them are making you feel so good, but you crave more.

"Take them off Jaemin," you urge him, wanting to feel his hands on your body and not on your shorts. You lift your hips, waiting for him to slide them down your legs. When he does, he groans at the sight before him. "She wasn't kidding, she's hella wet," Jaemin says to Jaehyun, moving his fingers back to your clit, making slow circles. The only sounds in the room are your small moans and the sound of your wetness as Jaemin plays with you. He pushes two fingers in to the hilt without warning, and your hips snap up, moaning even louder as he pumps them in and out. At the same time, Jaehyun moves his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at every inch. His hand reaches your core and rubs your clit as Jaemin finger fucks you.

"Fuck that feels good Jae," you don't know if you're talking about Jaehyun or Jaemin, but they were both making you feel on cloud nine right now. Jaemin pulls his fingers out of you and they're coated in your wetness. He brings his hand to your lips and you wrap your mouth around them, tongue swirling around his digits, licking yourself off his fingers.You feel Jaemin shifting, pushing your knees up and laying down in front of your core. Jaehyun pulls back, watching as Jaemin presses kisses on your sex before diving in and lapping up all your juices. You grab onto his hair pushing his head closer to you, mouth left in an o-shape, not making any sounds but feeling so good underneath Jaemin's tongue. "I could eat you out all day, you look so amazing right now" Jaemin comments, making you shy, trying to close your legs only for him to hold your thighs tighter and keep them open.

"I bet you'd look better with my dick in your mouth," Jaehyun says as he steps off the bed to pull his pants down and you reach your hand out to grab his member. He's taking in the view before him: your legs spread wide by Jaemin's hands as he devours you, your eyes locked on his own and your hand pumping him up and down, all needy for him. He kneels on the bed beside you, telling you to open up. You greedily take him in your mouth, licking what you can and moaning when Jaemin sucks on your clit. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the pleasure Jaemin is giving you while trying to pleasure Jaehyun at the same time.

Jaemin is keeping his eyes on the two of you, watching the way your hips buck every time he licks your clit and the way your mouth is wrapped around Jaehyun. He pulls away from you, wiping your arousal off his mouth and chin. He brings his hand down, slapping your pussy hard. You yelp and close your legs as a reflex, only for Jaemin to push them back open. He keeps your legs spread but doesn't stop, slapping both your core and inner thighs. You can't focus on sucking Jaehyun off when Jaemin is abusing your pussy in all the right ways. "Jaemin!" you cry out, and he smirks. "That's what you get for sucking him while I'm eating you out, you're supposed to focus on me."

You whine, unsure if you should keep sucking Jaehyun now that Jaemin has stopped. You look to Jaehyun, and he's staring at your body, core dripping even more than before. He turns to look down at you, hand still holding his member and you pump him slowly, loving the way his big dick fits in your hand. "Want me to fuck you first baby?" You nod, a bit too eagerly, earning a low chuckle from him. He pulls your legs towards him and throws his shirt off swiftly and now it's your turn to eye fuck him. You couldn't stop staring at him the first time you met, but this is even better than before now that he's completely naked and about to ruin you. As Jaehyun aligns himself to your core, Jaemin groans, upset that he isn't getting any action right now. You take pity on him and reach out to him, asking him to kiss you. He jumps at the opportunity and lays down beside you, pulling your face closer to his as he hungrily kisses you. Tongues clashing, you both fight for dominance, not wanting him to win you over.

Jaehyun slides in and you gasp against Jaemin's lips, knowing it was coming but you still weren't ready for it. He grips your waist as you wrap your legs around him, pushing into you with such force that you can't even kiss Jaemin properly any more. Jaehyun starts to get lost in the way your pussy clenches so tightly around him. "Damn, your pussy feels so good baby," Jaehyun moans, watching the way your breasts bounce with each thrust. You pull away from Jaemin's lips, but keep eye contact with him as Jaehyun fucks you senseless. Jaemin is rock hard by now, watching your face contort in pleasure while still looking him in the eyes, pleading silently for him to do something to you. He can tell you want Jaehyun but that you also want him just as much, which prompts him to undress and kneel on the bed, member in hand, waiting for you to take him.

Jaehyun pulls out and flips you on your stomach. You immediately get on all fours, moaning as he pushes back in again and look at Jaemin, sticking your tongue out for him to fuck your mouth. He swears, taking in the image of you getting fucked by one of his best friends but still begging for him like the slut you are. "You look so pretty like this," Jaemin says, pushing all the way in to your mouth. You gag a bit, but you want him to be rough with you. Jaehyun is fucking you so hard you moan on Jaemin's dick, making him close his eyes and revel in the way your perfect little mouth is making him feel so good. Jaehyun slaps your ass so hard, you can't help but pause on Jaemin's dick a bit, waiting for the sting to turn into pleasure. He does it again and again, and you cry out, your head falling onto the bed, unable to keep Jaemin in your mouth.

"What's wrong baby girl? You said you liked it earlier," Jaehyun mocks you, pulling your hair up so that you can face Jaemin again. "Be a good slut and suck his dick."

You take Jaemin into your mouth again, unable to deny him when he's looking at you like you're the sexiest person he's ever seen, taking two dicks at once. You feel so full, so fucked out, so good that you can't focus on either of them. You look up at Jaemin, who's pushing further and further into your mouth, fucking your mouth just as hard as Jaehyun is fucking your pussy. You don't want either of them to stop but you don't know how much longer you can go. Your body is about to give out, and Jaehyun can feel your knees starting to fall on the bed.

"We never said we were done, don't act like you can't take it princess," Jaehyun and Jaemin both pull out of you and you collapse, trying to catch your breath. Jaemin takes the initiative, laying down in front of you. "Ride me baby."

You regain feeling in your legs and climb on top of Jaemin, sinking down on his dick as his hands move to your ass. You rest your palms beside his head, moving your hips up and down slowly. You squeeze around him and he lets out a sigh. "God, you're still so tight even after that fucking Jaehyun gave you." His hands caress your sore cheeks, still red and left with hand marks. Jaehyun watches the two of you, paying close attention to the way your pussy grips Jaemin's dick as you ride him. "She's doing so well, isn't she Jaemin?"

"She's the best I've ever had, can't get enough," he responds, looking at you sweetly. This is the first time you've seen him look at you in that way, and you realize you can't deny it either, no matter how much he's annoyed you in the past few days you've spent together. You lean down, littering his neck with warm kisses. Your soft lips on his skin makes him burn up. "Jaemin, fuck me, make me yours," you whisper in his ear, quietly so that Jaehyun doesn't hear. The intimacy shared between you two, even with Jaehyun still in the room, makes you both insanely crazy for each other. He doesn't have to be told again. He holds your hips still, shifting his feet so that they're propped against the bed. He asks if you're ready, and you kiss him softly in response. He wastes no time, drilling into you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He makes you scream his name, hugging your body close to his as he fucks you so hard your head is spinning. Jaehyun is sure you said something to Jaemin, but he couldn't make out what you said. He feels a slight tinge of jealousy, wanting to know what made Jaemin snap.

You can feel your orgasm coming, and with the way it's been building up since Jaemin ate you out and Jaehyun fucked you, you know it's gonna hit hard. "I'm gonna cum, will you make me cum baby?" you plead in Jaemin's ear, and he knows he's close too. Your pussy clenches around him, getting even tighter than before. "I'm close, you need to get off," he warns, but you don't want to. You look him the eyes, "It's okay." And with that, all his inhibitions go out the window. He brings his hand to your clit, rubbing fast and hard to get you to finish at the same time.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you yell, throwing your head back as your orgasm washes over you. Jaemin's hips stutter as he lets out a string of moans, releasing his load in you. You both take a second to come down from your high, almost forgetting that Jaehyun was in the room until he grabs your hips, pulling you off of Jaemin and throwing you onto your back.

"What the fuck was that? Neither of you wanted to tell me you were about to cum?" He's beyond jealous now, wanting to be the first one to finish in you. Your mind is still cloudy and you can feel Jaemin's cum slipping out of you onto the bed. "Sorry bro," Jaemin chuckles with his half-ass apology. Jaehyun looks at you and you can only smile weakly at him. He spreads your legs apart and thrusts two fingers in, pushing Jaemin's cum back into your core. With your own arousal and Jaemin's, you're the wettest you've been all night. You whimper, still sensitive from the intense orgasm you just had.

"Oh baby, did you think that was the end of it?" Jaehyun quickly moves his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit as you try to move away. "I can't take any more,” shaking your head weakly.

"You can and you will," he assures you, wanting to punish you for forgetting about him. His hand snakes up your body, gripping your throat firmly, making it hard for you to breathe. The lack of air and the way he's finger fucking you makes your head feel light. You love the short, sweet moment you had with Jaemin, but Jaehyun's roughness makes your body tingle in a different way. You enjoy them both, and soon you're becoming another mess underneath Jaehyun.

"Shit, Jaehyun don't stop please," you moan loudly, feeling another orgasm approaching. He removes his fingers from your core and you feel empty, a second high so close. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, holding the other leg down as he slides right in. You can't keep up with him, can't do anything but just take it, he's so good at abusing your pussy and you love it so much. His hand presses against your throat again and he's making you feel so delirious.

"I told you you could take it. Tell me you like it," he says harshly, letting go of your throat a bit so you could respond.

"Fuck, I love it," you pant, getting close again.

"What do you love?" he presses further, undoubtedly so Jaemin could hear. He scoffs in the background, knowing Jaehyun is doing it on purpose.

"I love it when you fuck me, you make me feel so good Jaehyun," you tell the truth, not wanting him to get any more jealous. He kisses you, the first time he's done that tonight. You hold his face, letting him take control of your lips, your body, your mind. You're drowning in the pleasure he's giving you, and you can tell he's close too.

"Cum in me baby," you whisper against his lips, wanting him to fill you up. 

"You’re too much for me sweetheart, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," he groans. You reach your second orgasm of the night, and this one is even more intense than before. Jaehyun watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs begin to shake as he stills in you, spilling his own load into you. Jaemin watches as both his cum and Jaehyun's leaks out of you.

Both Jaehyun and Jaemin take a moment to admire you looking absolutely delicious in your fucked out state. They look at each other, wondering if they were too hard on you.

"Was that too much?" Jaehyun asks, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling you out of your trance. You feel their cum dripping, but as one last bold move, you spread your legs and gather a bit on your fingers, bringing it to your lips to let them know you loved every bit of it.

"You're so sexy, I might just have to go again," Jaehyun leans down to kiss you, telling you how you did so well for them. Jaemin is already running the shower for you so you can clean yourself up.

After your shower, you hear rustling downstairs and you're glad your friends didn't come back 10 minutes earlier. Jaemin's already taken the sheets off the bed to throw them in the washer. You and Jaehyun meet everyone downstairs, ready for dinner after everything that just happened.

"Hey, what have you guys been up to since we left?" Lucas asks, getting the grill ready for some Korean barbecue.

"We just played a few games in our room," Jaemin responds, giving you a wink. "Y/N thought she would win but me and Jaehyun put her in her place."

[hartigays]

rafe taking barry to a fancy kook party👀

“but you’re still coming, right?”

rafe is pacing back and forth in his room, gnawing on his lip with his phone pressed to his ear.

“sho’ thang, country club,” barry says from the other end, and rafe can immediately tell that he’s fucking blasted already.

it’s four in the afternoon.

but that’s fine, great even. the less barry tries, the better. that’s the whole point, after all. to make everyone but himself as uncomfortable as humanly possible at tonight’s fundraiser or gala or whatever shit his family is hosting.

rafe can never be bothered to remember.

barry maybe possibly perhaps could be a minor casualty in this little endeavor, when it comes to ward at least. it’s not enough to deter rafe - he’ll just. make it up to barry later, or whatever, if it’s a problem. that’s what normal people do, right? just do whatever the fuck you want then ask for forgiveness later. or something like that.

rafe can’t be bothered to remember timeless sayings or what the fuck ever, either.

“wear something- ” rafe pauses, effectively cutting himself off. he was about to tell barry to wear something nice out of habit (the words were even thought in ward’s voice. rafe can feel a vein start to pulse in his forehead). “wear whatever you want. and be late. bring the bike.”

barry is quiet for a moment, and rafe doesn’t know why, but he feels like barry is doing that small half-smile dimple thing that makes rafe feel all wobbly inside.

probably because, as rafe remembers with sudden clarity, barry lives for drama just as much as rafe. it’s kind of why they’re fooling around behind everyone’s backs in the first place.

sure, barry is nice to look at and decent in bed and blah blah blah, but the best part about their relationship is the knowledge of how much it’d cripple people if they knew about it. people like ward cameron, for example.

rafe thinks barry is just as interested as him in seeing ward’s head burst like a grape after seeing them together for the first time. although rafe is pretty sure that’s more because barry just wants their relationship to be public, and he doesn’t really give a shit one way or another how it happens.

ward’s head turning purple from stress is just, like, the cherry on top of the whole shit cake.

“heard,” is all barry says in response to rafe’s requests (or demands, depending on how you look at it) before hanging up.

rafe exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. he turns towards his mirror, smoothing a hand over the shirt that he’d stolen from barry’s closet earlier this morning.

he’d wanted to stay at barry’s all day and convince him that they should go to the fundraiser together instead of just meeting each other there, but rafe never even got a chance to suggest it, only getting so far as asking barry if he could go at all. because barry had to work, the busy fuck.

when he’s not working, he’s dealing nonstop. when he’s not dealing, he’s busy making rafe’s life miserable by filling him with all sorts of stupid mushy feelings that have him missing barry when he’s gone. it’s disgusting, and he despises the fact that he loves it so much.

but he’ll make an exception, because it’s barry. always because it’s barry.

that doesn’t mean that rafe has to fill barry in on all of his plans, necessarily. he can just invite him places and vaguely allude to the real reason for the invite without actually saying it and barry can either go along with it or not.

at least in this situation, barry is seemingly okay with being conned into going to a cameron family event for more reasons than just being rafe’s - well, they hadn’t exactly settled on barry being his date.

rafe had simply asked barry to go and barry had simply said yes.

after barry left for work, rafe had raided his wardrobe, and he’s been wearing the ratty t-shirt ever since. it smells like barry, and rafe wants to smother himself in it.

he also wants to show up tonight in it, just to make things that much worse for ward.

so, rafe does.

sarah’s eyes bug out of her head when she sees him. she opens her mouth when he breezes past her, but he doesn’t stop to listen to whatever she has to say.

rafe can deal with whatever sarah throws at him later. right now, he’s setting a plan in motion and can’t afford to be distracted.

by the time the party is in full swing, rafe has yet to make it into ward’s line of sight, and barry is late. which was the plan, but barry’s almost too late.

the speeches have long since passed, and everyone is either dancing or mingling at this point. his chance to crash the party on-stage, an idea he’d been toying with, comes and goes as the hours pass.

rafe had kind of been hoping he could make a scene.

in the end, he sort of gets his wish.

barry comes strolling in when the party is starting to wind down. he reeks like he smoked a blunt on the way over - rafe can smell it wafting off of him as he storms over.

“are you fucking kidding me?” rafe snaps, ignoring the way barry is eyeing his shirt.

“that mine?” he asks, one brow arched.

rafe looks down at his shirt, then back up at barry, glaring. “yes? whatever. shut up. i had a plan. would it have literally fucking killed you to show up on time?”

“shit, baby boy. you said be late,” barry snorts, rolling his eyes. “ain’t i late?”

“you missed- ” rafe snaps again, an octave higher, before cutting his response short and pinching the bridge of his nose. “i didn’t say this late.”

“pretty sure i don’t remember hearin’ you specify, country club.”

which is fair, rafe was vague for a reason, and perhaps it backfired on him a little. but whatever, he’s mad at barry anyway and there’s not much he can do about that, except, well. be mad.

“i had a whole goddamn thing i was going to do,” rafe bitches. “and you missed it.”

barry glances around, eyeing the rather quiet crowd starting to notice their little display. for a moment, it looks like he wants to pull rafe outside for some privacy. but he must see something on rafe’s face, because his expression shifts, and then he’s grinning like a shark.

“ain’t i tell you to quit takin’ my shit?” barry asks, suddenly taking the argument in a new direction. “the fuck i give a shit about being late for when you taking all my damn clothes?”

rafe glances around at the crowd, noting sarah eyeing him from the corner of the room. and next to her, ward.

staring right at rafe, looking murderous. it’s entirely too good, and rafe could kiss barry.

but there’ll be time for that in - well. in like, the next minute, but rafe is determined to draw this out at least a little bit.

“maybe don’t ruin my clothes in the first place and i won’t have to steal yours,” rafe tosses back.

he’s pleased to see barry’s cheeks turn pink - just a little bit.

and then, “you want me to ruin some more? keep stealin’ my shit, that’s what’s gonna happen, princess.”

barry dangles the bait in front of rafe so nicely, he really can’t help but take it.

“i do, actually,” rafe says, then adds, thoughtfully, “wanna take this argument somewhere else?”

“shit, country club. i didn’t know you was such a romantic.”

rafe will certainly show him romantic, if that’s what he wants. only because rafe gets a whole hell of a lot more out of it, too.

he kisses barry right there in front of the whole crowd, with purpose. like it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.

based on the color of ward’s face, it just might be.

barry grabs the front of rafe’s shirt - or, well, barry’s shirt, technically - and hauls him in closer, kissing him deeper. barry always kisses him like it’s the first time - like he’s constantly discovering something he never knew existed, and now he can’t get enough of it.

rafe is utterly consumed by it. he feels like he’s burning from the inside out, like he’s being stripped bare in front of the universe itself, and he wants to drown himself in it.

“get me out of here and i’ll show you just how romantic i can be,” rafe breathes against barry’s lips, his fingers still knotted in his hair.

barry bumps their foreheads together before extracting himself from rafe’s embrace, barely sparing his surroundings a glance before dragging rafe right back through the front doors. rafe hears the heavy wood shut behind them.

he feels like he’s snorted the fattest line in history when he climbs onto the back of barry’s bike, hearing it roar to life. rafe pulls his helmet on and wraps his arms around barry’s middle, slipping his fingers under the hem of barry’s shirt.

just a touch to tide him over. just until they can get back to barry’s trailer.

it isn’t until they’re speeding out of the parking lot that ward storms outside, shouting something at them from the front steps. it’s completely inaudible, but rafe looks back in time to see the look on ward’s face. his expression alone speaks volumes.

rafe surprisingly finds that, in the grand scheme of things, he doesn’t really give a fuck either way.

[jjkxlv]

You're So Mean! (I)

↝Summary: You don't know that he felt that way about you :(

↝Genre: Fluff, angst, established relationship, rich!jk + rich!reader, famous!jk!reader,

↝Warnings: Mention of cheating, mention of being fat, reader was slightly insecure

Note: This is just a fictional story I made in my mind. You're beautiful no matter what size you are in! and please don't read this if it makes you uncomfortable.

Another note😭I didn't plan to make it into 2 parts but it came out longer that what i had planned in my mind lmao😭🤣but part 2 will be posted soon i guess😭🤣👍🏻ENJOY❤️

Part 2

The cafeteria was LOUD. There’s just so many things going on inside your mind and this loud ass people did not help one bit. To make the matter worst, this morning when you’re weighing yourself, you actually gain two kilos which makes your weight in total of 48kg. “I knew it would turn out like this yet I let it happened now I have to pay the price” you said to yourself. After all the take outs and fast food for dinner with Jungkook, there’s no way you’ll stay in your shape. Out of frustration, you slam your fist on the table gaining your friends attention.

“Hey what’s wrong, Y/n?” Your friend Minie asked you.

“Everything! Everything is wrong!” You said in a rather loud voice.

“Okay instead of yelling, would you tell us what’s going on inside that head of your” Your other friend Yuju said.

“Fine, first today I got up and I checked my weight this morning and you guys know what,,, I actually weight more than 45kg and not like this is my first time but it’s stressing me out.

“Damn Y/n, maybe you should go with THE diet again idk”

“Yeah you should, what if Jungkook dump you if you become fat. You don’t want that do you?”

“Yeah as if. He loves me too much to be doing that”

And the table become silent. But one thing you didn’t notice is that Yuju and Minie been making this ‘eye signal’ to one another. The silent was broke by Yuju suddenly clearing her throat.

“Actually y/n, speaking about Jungkook, we have something to tell you” Yuju said while coming closer to you and Minie did the same.

“What” you said with a stern voice not wanting to hear their baseless rumour about Jungkook. Yet again. You love them. Your best friends. But sometimes you don’t think you should believe everything they said. You’re the one who is dating Jungkook. You’re the one who know Jumgkook more than anyone in this campus.

“My people said they saw this new girl talking to Jungkook and she was all over him. What a whore. And you know what, they said Jungkook was the one who approached her first”

“Should I be concern or something? I mean they were just talking right plus no receipt that she was all over him then… it didn’t happen. Unless ‘your people’ have receipt then I will believe them”

“Lol, suit yourself Miss y/n. Don’t come crying at us if he cheats on you” Yuju said and was supported by Minie.

“Yeah y/n, we told you this for your own good but if you don’t want to believe it then that’s on you”

You ignored them. You don’t understand why are they so bitter about Jungkook. Especially Yuju’s ‘people’. Always have something about Jungkook. Feeling annoyed, you said “whatever, I’m going to Jungkook” and got up leaving them behind.

You actually have no plan on meeting Jungkook right now since he’s in class right now but you could wait for him you guess. After a solid one hour, you finally see Jungkook head pop out with the sea of people coming out of their lecture room. He was all smiley talking to somebody then it hits you. Oh the new girl Yuju and Minie was talking about. They were walking side by side and they seem close. You pushed yourself between that sea of people and after what feels like eternity, you reached Jungkook. You waste no time in holding his arm grabbing his attention.

“Hi babe” you said greeting him. Leaning up and on your tippy toes to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Oh hey baby! I didn’t know you was waiting for me” he said acknowledging your presence and gladly kiss you back. You felt weird satisfaction by the fact that this new girl getting the memo that he’s yours and off limit.

“Yeah something came up btw who’s this?” you asked giving her a question yet judging gaze.

“Oh yeah this is Jiwo and Jiwo this is y/n my girlfriend”

“Hi I’m y/n” you said with a smile and you offer your hand for a handshake which she gladly took it. You give her a gentle yet tight grip making her look up to you with a clueless gaze.

“Jiwo” she said with a smile.

“Well Jiwo nice skirt, where’d you get that?” you asked.

“Ouh thanks! It was my mom’s” she said, face getting red because you’re actually the first one to compliment her look here.

“Ouhh vintage I like that” you said. Just to be nice while in a matter of fact, you think that was the ugliest skirt you have ever seen in your entire life.

“Okay nice to meet you but Jungkook have to go somewhere. So, bye” with that you dragged Jungkook by his arm and to the car park without waiting for her reply. Leaving her there dumbfounded. While being dragged, Jungkook actually made a calling sign telling Jiwo that he’ll call later. To complete their project. Together.

“Geez, slowdown woman. What happened?” Jungkook asked sensing your ‘unusual mood’.

“Can we go shopping? I’ve been so stress today please?” you said making your signature puppy eyes.

“I can’t right now y/n. I have to complete the project I’m making with Jiwo today”

“Are you seriously dumping me right now. For that basic chick” you said with a puff. Kinda genuinely hurt that he is rejecting you.

“No baby, I wasn’t dumping you. This project is just very important for our grade. Come on you understand me right?” he said and you have no choice but to give in.

“Alright,,, I understand” you said while gently take his hand and just draw random things on his palm. One of your habit that he notices you do when you want reassurance from him.

“Come here” he said opening his arm to give you a big warm hug. “How about we go shopping tomorrow? I only have one lecture and it’s in the morning. What do you think” he said while rubbing your back.

“DEAL!” you said with a big smile and you look up at him and he leans in for a kiss.

“Alright baby boo see you tomorrow” he said and give you a last peck on your forehead.

“I love you” you said while snuggling your face on his chest for the last time.

“I love you too now go. Byee”

Jungkook quickly got back into the building trying to find Jiwo. He doesn’t even wait until you go. You shrugged the thought not wanting to acknowledge them because acknowledging them means you agree with your friends and that they were right about Jungkook and your ego is just too damn high to do that. You get into your car and start your car. Guess you’ll go shopping alone today. Since you had lowkey fought with your bestfriend just now. With a last sigh you make your way on the road.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME TO READ THIS😭❤️PLEASE DO LET ME KNOW IF THERE'S IS ANYTHING THAT I CAN IMPROVE!! THANKS AGAIN!!!

[ptergwen]

Hey could you write one where the reader helps tom, who's heavily drunk, get home? Somehow tonight he's a sad drunk and cries about random things to the reader it amuses the reader, but later surprised when tom cries saying that he thinks the reader is dating someone else because he saw the reader going out with a guy days before??

warnings: lots of drinking mentions and swearing

a/n: woah this is pretty long 😭 got a little carried away heh enjoy

-

“you’re where?” you ask into the phone, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of tom’s drunken speech.

he seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of trouble. all his critical thinking skills blocked out by the alcohol, he ended up calling you. you’re now determined to find out where your friend is and help him home. tom has a track record for doing stupid shit when he’s drunk.

“th’ pub,” tom slurs back. “you wanna join me? have a drink?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. he’s leaning on the bar, but his arm slides and draws an oh, shit out of him. so he doesn’t hear your giggling, you put a hand over your mouth. “y/n/n, you coming?” he asks sort of desperately once he has his balance.

“yeah, tom. i’m on my way,” you reply and head to your front door, keys already in your hands. “hurry,” he commands, then takes a sip of beer from his nearly empty bottle. he’s not making this easy for you. the drunker he gets, the harder it is to drag his ass out of there. “i am, i am. see you soon.” you hang up with a sigh.

it doesn’t take you long to get to the pub, which is a good and sometimes bad thing, this time good. you find parking and speed walk inside. your eyes instantly scan the place for your buzzed best friend. he’s not hard to find in one of his signature white t-shirts, hair slicked back. he’s hunched over in the stool, and his head is down. that’s concerning.

the bartender is cleaning up a spill nearby him when you approach the bar. tom whines out a series of, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m really sorry,” to him. he’s crying. weeping would be more accurate. his whole body moves while he sobs into his arms. you sit down next to him and put a hand on his back.

he looks over at you with tears falling down his cheeks. “tom, what happened?” you frown, already turned to face him. his eyes water again. “i- i spilled my drink and it got all over and i feel so bad, y/n,” tom tells you in a high pitched tone, the bartender placing down another beer in front of him.

you shoot him a glare because he’s clearly had enough. he swings the rag he was using to clean over his shoulder and shrugs. isn’t part of his job knowing when to cut people off?

“thank you,” tom mumbles to the guy, who gives him a nod before tom grabs the beer off the counter. you snatch it away from him. “oh, no. that’s enough already.” you put his drink down on the other side of you. that encourages tom to cry some more, hiding his face in his arms for a second time. “no fair!” he yells and sounds like a child while doing it.

“you’re gonna have a really bad hangover, or puke this all up, or both,” you explain your confiscation to him. “probably both.” tom lifts his head up, eyes sad yet hopeful at the same time. he grabs your hand with both of his. “will you take care of me?” the question, mostly how he asks it, makes your heart clench.

“of course. let’s get you home, okay?” you stand up and loop an arm around his back. tom follows suit, you pulling him towards you and grabbing his jacket off the stool. “no, i wanna stay with you.” he insists, stumbling forward as you lead him towards the exit. you’re hoping he already paid because you don’t feel like that sketchy bartender coming after you.

“sure, you can spend the night. we haven’t had a sleepover in a while,” you agree, pushing open the door with your foot, arms preoccupied with tom. your offhanded joke makes him emotional again. there’s more to it, though. “it’s- it’s been so long,” tom sniffles out. “aw,” you chuckle and tighten your arm around him.

he used to stay over your place a lot before he moved in with the boys and harry. he misses being able to crawl into your bed and snore while you lay in his arms. you also miss it, so it’s funny how neither of you have said anything.

the tears in tom’s eyes make his vision blurry, which in turn makes him trip over a rock. “sorry, man,” he apologizes to it, you steadying him and letting out another laugh. he’s funny when he’s so far gone. “we’re almost at the car,” you let him know with a tiny smile. “‘mkay,” tom nods and wipes his tears away, leaning into you for the rest of the way there.

tom does fine for most of the car ride. there’s an incident where he gags and you almost pull over, but he ends up not needing it. he feels so awful he nearly puked in your car that it makes him cry yet again. you promise him it’s fine, that you don’t mind and everything is fine. you’ve never seen drunk or sober tom act like this.

you bring him straight to your room when you get home, dropping him on the bed and huffing. tom falls onto his back. he closes his eyes and purses his lips. “do you need anything?” you pant, answering yourself before he does. “you should have some water.” “ok,” tom mumbles and drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “ma’am,” he adds.

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to get him a water bottle. you start to wonder why he got so plastered in the first place. seeing him in this state beyond worries you. you love tom too much to watch him fall apart. you really love him.

you come back to your room and flick on the lights. tom throws an arm over his head, mouth agape and a groan escaping it. “shit, sorry,” you giggle, shutting the lights off. “you’re a madwoman,” he rasps back. he sounds slightly more aware of himself now. “well, you’re a madman. here.” you toss him the water.

tom obviously doesn’t catch it, so it lands on his stomach. he rips off the cap and goes to take a sip while laying down. he’ll throw up for real this time if he does that.

“tom, tom, tom,” you murmur to yourself in a playfully disapproving tone. you take a seat next to him, tugging at his hand to get him to sit up. he smiles lazily and brings the bottle to his lips, watching a smile spread across your own face while he takes a sip. the two of you make eye contact for long enough that you notice something visibly shift within him.

tom looks down at his lap instead, taking his mouth off the water with a pop. he then exhales through his nose rather reflectively. you take notice of that, squinting at him in the dark. “what?” you wonder aloud. a few seconds go by without tom saying anything, deciding if it’s worth bringing up. he figures he might as well say it because it’ll come out eventually.

“the other day,” tom starts, voice deep and alcohol still in his system. “were you out with someone? a guy?” you’re not quite sure what he’s referring to. “huh?” is all you say back. “harry was picking up dinner, said he saw you on a date at the restaurant.” he gets quieter during the second part, almost upset. you sit up from the comfortable position you were in.

“harry was there? i didn’t know that,” you tell him as you try to piece together the story. tom takes that as confirmation. “so, you were on a date?” he caps the water and throws it somewhere on your bed. “i need another drink.” “it wasn’t a date- hang on.” it finally clicks with you why he was getting wasted by himself in the latest hours of the night.

“you were drinking because you thought i went on a date?” you ask tom softly, another smile pulling at your lips. “um...” he blows out of his mouth and nods, still nodding as he speaks. “yeah. made me feel shitty.” what you said now registers with him. he perks up ever so slightly. “but, you said it wasn’t a date?” “no,” you quickly dismiss. “he’s in one of my classes.”

“we were working on an assignment, and i thought having him over would give him the wrong idea.” you’re grinning by the end of your explanation because of what you feel is about to come next. tom beams back at you, moving closer to you on the bed. “good,” he affirms and brings a hand up to your cheek. his wide pupils search yours, thumb brushing your skin.

“‘cuz i like you, and love you.” his voice drops to a whisper. “love you a lot.” “i like you too,” you breathe out, enjoying the way his warm hand makes your skin tingle. “and, i love you.” “wish i knew that before i got fucking pissed,” tom mumbles, but seems unbothered because he leans in to kiss you. you’re met with his beer breath before giving him a push back.

“speaking of, you’re still drunk,” you laugh and comb your fingers through his matted curls. “i’m not,” tom protests, ducking away from you. scoffing, you retract your hand with a knowing look. “you are. i can smell it. we should go to sleep, tom.” he caves and lays down, letting his head fall in your lap. “fine. can we at least cuddle?”

he’s relentless.

but, you say yes.

[letsfluxshitup]

​Technoblade Learns How To Relax (now on ao3)

Tommy's face became more and more contemplative as he guided Quackity to the ravine dubbed Pogtopia. 

He led him down the winding stairs at a pace that had Quackity fumbling to keep up with. 

On the last step, Quackity stumbled, heading face first into the dirt before an arm caught him around the waist.

"I told you we needed the guard rails." A voice huffed from behind him.

Quackity thrashed violently, whipping around and ending up on the ground anyways, staring up at the Blade himself.

"Oh! Technoblade-- Mr. Blade, sir, I didn't see you there--" Quackity stuttered, scrambling to his feet. He slipped twice on the gravel before Tommy took pity on him and offered him a hand.

Quackity took it, allowing himself to be dragged up before slightly frantically brushing off his jacket. He scrubbed at the mounting flush on his face, refusing to be embarrassed, and waved away Tommy's concern.

Tommy broke the silence, abruptly clearing his throat.

"Right- anyways, I was just showing Big Q around. He’s with us now, you know." Tommy nodded self-assuredly, glancing between Quackity and Techno.

Techno just nodded, making a noise half agreement half dismissive.

"I'll be in the--" Techno started before Tommy interrupted him, fisting a hand in Techno's cape.

"He needs a room to stay in! We don't have enough, we're going to have to share. I was thinking he could stay with Wilbur but he's a little uh..." Tommy trailed off, scratched at his chin before gesturing vaguely. "You know?" 

"I know." Techno sighed, turning to face them. "He can stay with me."

"No that's-- that's not necessary, I can just-- I wouldn't want to inconvenience you--" Quackity started, praying the panic in his tone wasn't too noticeable.

Techno just gave him a leering smile, too much teeth and tusk to be considered anything other than threatening before Tommy smacked him.

"Quit messing with Big Q, he's an ally now, alright?" Tommy said, biting down on a laugh. 

Techno snorted before shoving him in retaliation for the smack and Quackity backed away quickly before he got dragged into the rough-housing.

Finally, Techno ended it, sitting on Tommy's back effectively pinning him to the ground. Tommy flailed wildly before whining out a childish 'uncle', and Techno released him. Tommy got one last jab in before sprinting off deeper into the ravine, laughter echoing off of the walls. 

Quackity wished he hadn't left, the stale air suffocating as Techno eyed him. 

"You like what you see?" Quackity blurted out, before slapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry-- I didn't-- that was an accident I didn't mean to say that, sorry." 

Techno just raised an eyebrow at him, and Quackity just knew he was laughing at him, on the inside at least.

Techno gestured in front of him, a silent request to start walking.

Techno followed close behind, managing to avoid stepping on his heels but still unbearably close. His hand was resting loosely on his sword, did he really expect Quackity to attack him here? In his base, all by himself?

Before he could think more about Techno's paranoid tendencies, like the fact that Techno hadn't turned his back to him once, they stopped at a simple wooden door.

The wood was pockmarked with arrow holes, centering around a makeshift bullseye on the door. Above the bullseye was a crude drawing of Techno, Techno's name carved into the door above it.

"Tommy decorated." Techno deadpanned, gesturing vaguely at the door's decorations. 

Quackity just nodded mutely, following Techno into his room.

The difference between the rest of the ravine and Techno's room was jarring, to say the least.

The floors were meticulously clean, a broom propped up in the corner. 

Everything was shoved to one side, except for the sole bed that was lodged in the far corner, the perfect vantage point to see the door and every part of the room. 

There weren't any nooks or crannies to hide in, everything flush against the wall and on ground level, too short to hide behind.

Every corner of the room was lit up, no shadows to lurk in, no area left in the dark. 

Techno's bed was frameless, mattress box directly on the floor. He wanted to make a teasing remark about being scared of the monsters under your bed but he swallowed it, all the details clicking into place.

Maybe it wasn't monsters but considering everything else, Techno must have considered the space under his bed a security risk. Part of him wanted to poke fun at his paranoia but another part just felt... Sad. 

Did Techno relax? Ever? He couldn't imagine what it must be like, constantly keeping your guard up.

Even now Techno had positioned himself with clear access to the door, and with Quackity at hand’s reach. Well, more accurately, at sword's reach.

Quackity cleared his throat, trying to interrupt the uncomfortable silence they'd settled into. Techno had just quietly watched him look around, and Quackity desperately wished he knew what he was thinking about. His face was as blank and impassive as always.

Finally, Techno spoke.

"Do I need to feed you?" Techno was eyeing him up again, as if he'd be able to tell if he was hungry or not just from looking.

"Uh-- well, I'm a little hungry, but if it's too much trouble don't worry about it, I'll be fine!" Quackity squeaked when Techno abruptly moved forward, hands curling around his shoulders as he nudged him back into a sitting position on a chest.

One of Techno's hands moved from his shoulder to his jaw, forcing his head back slightly.

This was it, Quackity thought, This is where he rips my throat out.

Instead of ripping his throat out, Techno made direct eye contact with him, which was, in Quackity's humble opinion, objectively worse.

Techno broke eye contact first, mouth opening like he was going to say something before his eyes caught on a shallow cut at the base of Quackity's neck.

He'd gotten it on the way to Pogtopia, a skeleton getting a lucky shot on him from the shadows. Thankfully it had barely nicked him, and he hadn't bothered patching it up.

Techno leaned closer to it, forcing Quackity's head farther back, his other hand moving to lightly thumb at it.

Quackity's heart kicked into overdrive, because hey, what the fuck, Technoblade had his sharp ass teeth inches away from his jugular, but he didn't move. 

After another uncomfortably long pause Quackity finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"Am I dying, Doc?" He blurted, twisting his head to try and see Techno's expression.

"Huh? Oh, no. You have a heart shaped mole on your neck." Techno huffed a laugh, warm breath ghosting across his neck and Quackity hadn't realized before how fucking cold it was in the ravine.

Techno moved away after that, and Quackity could breathe easier now that he was less worried about dying. 

Techno still hovered close, though, nearly nose to nose and without thinking Quackity spoke.

"Are we going to kiss?" He mentally slapped himself afterward, but Techno let out a loud snorting laugh as he moved away more. Quackity was slightly proud he'd gotten a genuine laugh from the man but was still absolutely mortified.

As Techno moved away from him to dig in a chest, Quackity mourned the loss of Techno's warmth. He wondered if it had something to do with being half piglin, or if he always naturally ran hot.

Irrationally, Quackity worried that he had a fever, before squashing that down because the piglin theory made a lot more sense than the Great Technoblade catching a cold.

Techno moved around the room quickly, plucking two bowls out of a chest and giving him a look that silently screamed stay there, before he left the room.

He was back minutes later, and he handed Quackity one of the bowls of soup.

Techno plopped on to the floor and without thinking Quackity slipped down to join him. Techno side eyed him, but rested his back against a chest and started eating.

Quackity ate quickly, the food burning his tongue, and if you asked him he'd have no idea what was in it. When he was finished he carefully placed the bowl next to him, and Techno eyed him expectantly.

"More?" Was all he said, and when Quackity shook his head, a muttered no thanks following, Techno shoved bread at him anyways.

"You don't have to eat it now, but it should stay good for a bit. If you want to keep it on you." Techno went back to his soup, expression once again impassive.

Quackity scooped the bread up, tucking it away into one of his bags. He wondered what made Techno give him extra, if worrying about where your next meal would come from was as inherent to him as it was to himself. 

--

Techno lay on his back, eyes closed and breathing even. He doubted Quackity would be able to tell if he was actually awake or not, but he also didn’t have a very good read on Quackity. It was the main reason he’d offered up his room to him, he wasn’t sure what Quackity was capable of so the closer to him the better. 

He didn't know if Quackity could hold his own in a fight, and what if they were invaded in the night? He’d rather be there to protect their weakest link than leave it to the hands of Wilbur or, God forbid, Tommy. Tommy was an adept fighter, sure, but he still hadn’t quite grasped defense over offense, something that would leave Quackity vulnerable.

On the flipside, what if Quackity was a spy? It’d be a lot more difficult to snoop around if Techno was there to watch over him. He was a light sleeper, and his door creaked louder than the others, something he’d never bothered to fix considering it alerted him whenever anyone entered or left. 

Quackity also wasn’t known for being particularly quiet, either. Techno was sure that if anything happened when he was asleep, Quackity’s loud panicking would wake him up instantly.

Speaking of his inability to be quiet, Techno listened to him roll over and shift again, his uncomfortable shuffling capturing Techno’s attention in the relative silence of the room. Techno tilted his head, looking at Quackity. He was curled up on the floor, on a thin mat that Tommy had produced from God knows where. He had the blanket stuffed around himself, shivering slightly. Techno hadn’t realized it had been that cold, his back was pressed against the wall behind him that was unnaturally warm due to the lava pool on the other side of it. 

“Quackity?” Techno said into the quiet of the room, voice hushed.

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?” Quackity’s voice was high pitched, a nervous titter to it. “Was I bothering you? I can leave--”

He’d moved to a sitting position as he spoke, his shoulders tense and looking ready to bolt. 

Techno sighed. Quackity being afraid of him was fun, but also very inconvenient. He gestured at Quackity, beckoning him closer.

Quackity shakily got to his feet, muttering under his breath, this is it, this is the end, this is where he kills me, curse my poor circulation, why do I get cold so easily. 

Quackity stopped next to the bed, and Techno lifted up the blanket with one hand and patted the bed next to him with the other. 

He stared blankly back at him, looking between the spot next to him and his face, expression quizzical. 

“Sleep with me,” Techno huffed, impatient.

“Woah, woah, woah, you seem like a really nice guy but c'mon isn’t this a bit--” Quackity stuttered, looking genuinely surprised and vaguely amused.

At least he doesn’t look afraid, Techno thought absently.

“Not like that. If you’re cold we can share, the bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Quackity studied him again, rocking back and forth on his heels before letting out a sigh and shrug in the personification of fuck it, and slipping into the bed next to Technoblade.

Techno studied Quackity, frowning before scooting closer.

“Climb over me, the wall gives off heat. You’ll be warmer over there.” 

After a bit of fumbling and a push from Techno that was more of a drag, Quackity ended up on his other side. 

Techno squinted at him again, before dragging Quackity back into his chest. Quackity huffed, offended that Techno could manhandle him so easily. He wasn’t tiny, it was unfair how strong Techno was.  

Techno’s arms wrapped loosely around him, he hooked his head over his shoulder.

“Aw, I didn’t take you as the cuddling type,” Quackity teased, pressing his cold feet against whatever part of Techno they could reach.

Techno huffed again, and Quackity wondered how many emotions he could express with just a huff. 

“It’s not cuddling.” Techno readjusted his arms, absently rubbing warmth back into Quackity’s cold fingers, “It’s a tactical advantage.”

“Oh? Well, sorry to say, buddy, but your tactical advantage is crushing my wings.”

“Wings?” Techno echoed, abruptly pulling away. Quackity’s face scrunched in displeasure at the rush of cold air that met his back as Techno sat up to look down at him.

Quackity sat up too, unzipping his jacket. Techno eyed him warily for a second, before impatiently tugging at his jacket, trying to lean around him to get a look. A wing hit him in the face then, fluttering slightly before folding back against Quackity’s back. Quackity squeaked, looking terrified but desperately trying to hold back laughter.

“You need to groom your wings,” Techno finally said, after Quackity’s laughter faded.

“Hey, hey, you don’t just comment on a man’s wings!” Quackity’s voice pitched upwards, defensive as he crossed his arms and his wings puffed up slightly, only accentuating the issue. They were small, smaller than Philza’s certainly, and Techno doubted that Quackity could actually get any air time from them. 

They were kind of cute though, Techno thought. Objectively, of course.

“What if I spoon you--” Quackity started, only to be cut off by a petulant Technoblade.

“It wasn’t spooning. It was tactical. If someone came in here and saw me, they’d likely leave you alone. I doubt you made any friends when you defected from Manberg, and you’re kind of an easy target.” As if to accentuate his point he gestured vaguely at, well, all of Quackity, and Quackity’s wings puffed out again, expressive now that they weren’t trapped under a jacket.

“I resent that,” Quackity said in response, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“Alrighty, if you want a tactical advantage what if we hit 'em with one of these--” Quackity abruptly flopped across Techno, throwing an arm across his chest. Without thinking Techno’s arm came up, catching him across the throat and shoving him backwards against the wall.

“Sorry-- I didn’t mean that, sorry.” Techno pulled away quickly, straightening Quackity’s shirt and fixing his hair, hands dancing nervously across his chest.

“It’s alright,” Quackity rasped. “You’re a bit jumpy, that’s fine, we can work with that.”

Quackity waved away Techno’s mother henning, before slowly lowering himself against Techno’s side. 

“This alright?” He murmured, moving so he was laying across Techno’s chest, head on his collarbone. 

Techno curled an arm around Quackity’s waist in lieu of a response, careful to avoid his wings.

Quackity opened his mouth to comment on it, but Techno beat him to the punch.

“This isn’t cuddling. It’s a tactical advantage. Now you can’t sneak away without me knowing, how do we know that you aren’t a spy? I don’t know if I can trust you, yet.”

“You don’t trust me, buddy? We’re literally snuggling in your bed.” Quackity snorted.

“It’s not snuggling, it's a--”

“Tactical advantage, right, I know.” 

“Anyways, I know I could take you in a fight. You aren’t a threat to me.” Techno continued, as if Quackity hadn’t said anything. 

“You don’t know that--” Quackity started before Techno moved to make eye contact with him, a single eyebrow raised. “Ok, you’re probably right, but I think I could get, like, one lucky shot in, you know?”

“Sure,” Techno said dismissively, patting Quackity’s hip placatingly. His hand moved to rubbing up and down Quackity’s back and Quackity realized how tired he was. It’d been a long day, with a lot of running and the fighting with Schlatt took a lot out of him. 

Schlatt.

He was sure the man had already forgotten about him, labelled him a traitor and a coward, but Quackity couldn’t stop thinking. He tried to focus on Techno’s steady breathing, to ignore the rising memories from his earlier fight, but it was too much. He finally felt like he could think again, wasn’t panicking or in survival mode. Had he done the right thing? Had he made the right choice? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp tug to one of his feathers.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Techno murmured, smoothing the ruffled feathers back into place. “I’ll protect you from whatever’s got you all flustered, just go to sleep.”

Quackity huffed, but buried his face into Techno’s neck anyways, curling their legs together.

“Fine. Didn’t realize Grandpa had such an early bedtime,” Quackity mocked, earning him another warning tug on his feathers. He smothered his snort against Techno, before sighing out a quiet good night.

Techno just hummed, eyelids growing heavy, surprised that he was comfortable enough to sleep.

[inkdemonapologist]

SESSION TWELVE of the BatIM Call of Cthulhu game, aka Continuing to have a Great Time At The Masquerade! : )

Joey and Bendy destabilised early on, meaning Joey went through the ENTIRE masquerade UNABLE TO STOP SMILING

getting some mixed messages here, Joey

Sometimes u dress ur characters up as rabbits for fun but then you have a lot of emotions about them losing their minds and then u gotta draw them losing their minds while dressed as rabbits... anyway Jack being mind-controlled did NOT help Sammy hold onto his mental stability at this nightmare party in case you were wondering,

ANYWAY HAVE, MORE OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES, UNDER THE CUT

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] Joey, make a POW roll also... [Joey] Oh, boy, [GM] ...because Bendy was also told to enjoy this party, and you guys just passed a plate of food, and he wants to eat! [Jack] FEED YOUR SON! [Joey] No!!! [Henry] HES A HUNGRY BOY! [Sammy] A GROWING BOY!

[Henry] Henry will look back to see if Moonlight is trying to follow them! [GM] He will see that Moonlight has grabbed onto the railing of the stairs and is hobbling slowly down them. [Joey] *extremely evil-sounding cackling*

[Jack] All Cthulhu Official Dice actually come weighted, to make you fail.

[Henry] Gotta try harder than that, bitch! [Henry] ....that wasn't in character. [Jack] It's in character, but he's only thinking it. [Sammy] That's the golden text you see on the wall if you use the seeing tool

[Henry] My Luck is 68, I don't know what y'all are doing! [Jack] We're spending Luck so that we'll fail! [Sammy] BEING UNLUCKY! I've barely spent any Luck, I'm just NOT A LUCKY GUY

[Henry] Oh, Avedon's here, [GM] There's a gunshot, and he tries to shoot Fowler! [Joey] Um, well, uh, whoops!, rest in peace Fowler! [Sammy] Yeah, that'll sort itself out, let's go! [GM] Moonlight seems to reconsider from telling people to grab you guys, to grabbing Avedon instead. [Joey] Oh! THANKS AVEDON, your sacrifice will, not be thought about in the slightest!!!

[Sammy] Is... weird question, does this room look like it matches the architecture of the rest of the house? [GM] [GM] [GM] ...make a sanity check.

[Sammy] It would be a like, Come on Jack, do you know where you are, shake it off, snap out of it, kind of thing. [GM] Why don't you make a... a.... oh boy, [Sammy] One of my REALLY persuasive social skills?

[GM] This probably just registers to Jack as, Sammy griping about a party, which isn't that strange. [Jack] Yeahhhh, he wants to leave. He always does that. I wanna stay at least a little longer! [GM] That just means it's Jack's job to find them something fun and good to do. [Sammy] Oh boy, [GM] I don't think Jack is being compelled to be aggressive about this necessarily, he just feels like he's Jack at a party, doing the things Jack normally does, and trying to have a good time! [Sammy] Ah, and everyone else is being weird, [GM] Yeah! Everybody's being really weird! You're at this nice party, and now you're in this weird room? The party's back there somewhere! [Jack] I mean not that he's opposed to bein' dragged into side rooms at parties by cute boys, but,

[GM] The table looks like a table that Henry has in his house, actually. [Sammy] Have I ever been in Henry's house? These are questions I didn't expect to need to ask tonight.

[Sammy] Jack, this is weird! You see this is weird, right?! [Jack] Well yeah, it is kinda weird that we're in-- what are we doing here? [Joey] Joey is going to grab Jack's arm, and point to the next door, and go "Party is this way!"

[GM] Peter looks worried... [Sammy] Sammy looks worried too! Well, Sammy looks angry, but in a worried way.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream frustratedly. [Sammy] Is there ink in this room? [GM] There is not. [Jack] Is there a party in this room? [GM] Definitely no, only the party you bring with you.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream again. [Joey] He's also going to kick the door. He might stub his toe. [Sammy] Through all this, Joey is smiling. I just need us all to remember that. [Joey] YES. Also his tail is furiously going. [GM] Bendy is also upset! There is nothing to eat here.

[Joey] Joey is going to try to feed Bendy some ideas, [GM] He doesn't want ideas, he wants food!

[Joey] So.... what happens if you fumble a sanity roll?

[GM] See, here's the silly part. At this point, right? At this point, the best place to do the tasks you want to do, involve either getting the stone out of the room with the safe, or having the staff that Henry is currently holding. [Sammy] So you would arrive, by completely different means, to the same place that we are! [GM] Clearly Joey is inside the safe.

[Jack] Bad and naughty Joey Drews get put in the safe to atone for their sins!

[Henry] Henry is going to channel his inner Joey Drew and round the corner and say "No, sorry about him, we're just here on inspection, we need to check the safe." [Henry] Which is probably a Fast Talk, which I hope it isn't, because my Fast Talk is a 5. [GM] Unless you wanna try to turn that into a persuade somehow? [Henry] I'll do Persuade! [GM] What are you doing to persuade them, rather than just lying? [Henry] *rolls* I failed... I'm gonna push it... [Sammy] *uneasy noises* IF YOU PUSH IT AND IT GOES BAD, IT GOES WORSE [Henry] AH! HAHA! I ROLLED A SIX! [Sammy] THAT'S STILL NOT LESS THAN FIVE! [Henry] WELL IM DOING PERSUADE! [Sammy] That means you have to NOT LIE! [Henry] ....Fuck. [Henry] Okay, uh, there's an emergency, we need the contents of that safe. [Sammy] THATS STILL A LIE??? [Joey] NO actually, THAT'S TRUE! [Henry] It IS an emergency!!

[Sammy] Sammy cannot believe that this is working.

[GM] Bendy does wonder what his plan is for getting out of the safe. This does not seem like a fun party place. [Joey] Um, [Joey] Joey says it's a surprise.

[GM] Henry, the safe does indeed open! And there's a Joey! [GM] Bendy says "Oh wow!" [Henry] Henry tries his best to keep a straight face, like yes! this is exactly what he came here for! [Sammy] (Sammy is NOT keeping a straight face) [Jack] (Straight? In this party?)

[Jack] He's probably saying something like, "What are you doing, he's one of us!" [Jack] And that could go either way. That could mean "No, he's chill, I will persuade you to stop!" Or that could mean, "We are also criminals!"

[GM, as the guards] Then why does he look like the Yellow King's messenger? [Henry] *not missing a beat* We get that a lot.

[GM] Something falls from the sky and lands in front of him. And it's a person! [Joey] Is he alive? [GM] Very much not. [Sammy] How... how Illusion of Living canon-compliant is this Joey...?

[Jack] So... it would probably occur to Jack that this is weird for a party,

[Henry] Joey don't touch it! [Joey] Why not? [Henry] There's runes around it. I don't know if you can touch it. [Joey] Joey's gonna touch it. [Henry] *long-suffering sigh* If you get zapped, I'll tell you I told you so!

[Jack] Jack really wishes we were just back at the party right now, you guys... [Jack] Only bad things have happened. [Jack] Pete's traumatised, Joey's goopy, the Lurker ate all of the snacks,

[Sammy] Can I try to break free from Henry? Sammy's gonna try to run over there. [Henry] At this point, Sam can go, if he wants. [Sammy] Okay, cool. Then Sammy's gonna go and put ink in his mouth! [Henry] Goddammit. I was hoping you were going to check on Joey!

[Joey] You can’t take all of the sanity hits! You have to leave some for other people! [Jack] Says you! You got so many temps!! And an indefinite!!

[GM] Bendy probably is complaining loudly about WHY DID HE WALK THROUGH THE RUNES??? [Joey] Oh! I thought he was going to complain about the party, or lack thereof, [GM] That’s part of not having fun at the party, he’s not into that! [Joey] Well, [GM] This is not a fun party activity!!

[GM] But he doesn’t think it will destroy either of them, if you do it right! [Jack] That’s a nice, way to end that sentence,

[Sammy] Let us hurry! May I take the stone? [Joey] Joey shrugs. [Sammy] Sammy will, uh, attempt to reach inside of... whatever this is, and find the stone. [Henry] Reach INTO your LOCAL boss, and you will find A Friend And Boy,

[Sammy] Is there anything in this room that I can pick up, and then hit him in the head with? [GM] Henry has a stick... uh....there’s a projector.... [Sammy] Can I pick that up? [GM] No, you cannot. [Sammy] It would be REALLY funny if Sammy dropped a projector on someone else’s head. [Sammy] HOW THE TURNTABLES!!!

[GM] ...Can you impale with a rocking horse...???? [Sammy] I don’t want to impale, I want to knock him in the head so he passes out!!! Rest your head, it’s time for bed!!!

[Jack] I don’t think Jack has any plans after this! [Jack] I meant that in the sense that he doesn’t know what he’s doing next, but the way I phrased it, now it just sounds like he’s hitting on Fowler, like, he doesn’t have anything to do after this, are you free? That’s not canon.

[Joey] I don’t know how this will go, [Sammy] Good luck! [Joey] But Joey would like to-- [Sammy] Sammy believes in half of you! [GM] w-which Sammy? wHICH HALF?!

[Jack] I know you said “note.” But my brain at first processed that word as “milk.” [Henry] *laughing* “Did you get my milk, Fowler?” [Jack] He drank the last carton and he didn’t buy more! [Sammy] “I’m going to the store, want me to get anything? *jumps into the lake*”

[GM] Combat Jack! [Jack] *exasperated* He’s not a Combat Boy! Jack is soft and warm, like mashed potatoes!!!

[GM] Norman is wondering to Henry if he oughta be concerned about you all getting what you want out of this. [Henry] .....Maybe.

[spencerscoven]

— sad girl

about ; Spencer wants you more than anything, but he already has someone waiting at home for him.

gif by saramichellesgellar

CONTENT WARNING: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), slight choking, fingering, semi public intercourse, unprotected sex, cheating, brief mentions of violence, slight angst

a/n : came out of the fic closet for this <3 any request, concepts, or if you would like to be in a tag list, send your request to my inbox !! and enjoy

Being a mistress on the side, it might not appeal to fools like you...

What you could never tell a soul was that it started months before, weeks before he had ever first officially laid his hands on you. The lingering eyes, antsy hands, the words that had meant something else that went unsaid. They had implied the words that Spencer would never say out loud, in fear of the guilt that lined his stomach: I want you. But I have her.

Creeping around on the side, would not be something you would do...

JJ kissed him on the cheek, hands softly massaging the knots of his shoulders while she whispered the words that announced, "something came up..." and with that, she left Spencer with the taste of desire on his lips as his eyes gaped towards your direction. He watched you like he always did when he got a chance, seeing how the tips of your fingers ran across the edge of your cubical, your legs cross and eyebrows furrowed in thought. He knew what you were reading— only because his eyes glazed over the same file. The unsub was a 43 year old man with the signature of engraving x's into his victim's chests. And he wondered, thought hard, if you could focus on the case while you wore a skirt that tight.

"JJ's gone? Hotch just left, looks like it's just you and me. Now, what do you think of this?"

You inquired, shocking Spencer into looking up to see you standing beside him, the steps you took to get there unknown to him at the time they had happened. He pinched his thigh through his slacks. Get a grip.

You slid into his cubical next to him, stacking "The Narrative Of John Smith" in the next corner, along with his other books that were too advanced for you to even begin to understand, so you could sit your hips on his desk and place the annotated file next to him.

"So, I've found that Avery Pincher was abandoned by his mother at eight. She found another life elsewhere, and he didn't fit into the picture... you get the gist of it all," You looked up and smiled sheepishly, flattening out the top of your skirt which allowed Spencer's eyes to heed recognition of the smooth goosebumps laid on your thighs. He wanted skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

But you haven't seen my man... you haven't seen my man.

"Cold?" He questioned, sight trailing up your torso, only to see that your eyes already met his.

He could keep this up like he had for months, he could act like he couldn't cut though the tension between them. He could imagine that Morgan didn't squint his eyes at him every time he said your name in the conference room. He could set his hopes on thinking he had enough strength to go home and meet JJ, make love to her instead of fantasizing about fucking you. It was part of his job, bending people to his decree and staying in control. But he just didn't have the will when it came to you.

"Cold? No Reid— So I studied the letters his mother sent him after she left, all of them signed with an X, for kisses, as she signed them off. She thought it was endearing, he didn't seem to like it... hence his signature and the victims looking like her—"

"Then why do you have goosebumps?" He announced, rather than asked, as his long fingers wrapped around the top of your knee. He felt you take in a sharp breath before he heard it.

He's got the fire, and he walks with flames...

"Think about what you're doing, Reid. You think I haven’t caught onto these little things? Because I have,” Your words were spoken with quiet vexation even though you leaned towards his chest, but most importantly they told him that you knew. Your eyes were criminal, finally revealing your awareness of the depraved cat and mouse game that kept up between the two of you.

You'd seen the way he watched you. You'd felt his eyes down your blouse, his fingers that ghosted too long on your waist as he opened the door for you in the mornings. You’d spent nights thinking, rationalizing that Spencer was brilliant, and surely knew what was good for himself. You fought so hard, only to land on the realization he was just a man. A man with an insufferable craving in the pit of his stomache.

"I can feel your pulse. I have thought about this. Day in, day out. You don't think I've seen you looking too?" He stood, hands dragging further up your legs, to your waist, under your skirt, your hipbone, the insides of your thighs to feel your heat. He couldn't stop the soft smile forming on his lips when you sighed.

"Here you are, ass on my desk, pussy right in front of me, and you're telling me you didn't know this was bound to happen?”

His Bonnie on the side, his Bonnie on the side...

His lips mashed into yours, wasting no time, both your breaths hitching as teeth clashed and he fought to destroy you, to drown you in dizziness and lust. Finally, finally, finally, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. With his hands wrapped around your neck, nails digging in and stifling the moans threatening to uprise in your throat as he held you back from his lips, allowing you to gaze up drunkenly as your head lulled back and forth.

"I've barely touched you." You could hear the smirk in his voice, sticking your tongue out as he slowly pulled at your wet panties, your black skirt already bunched up your waist.

"This is what you want?" He mockingly laughed, gathering his saliva and spitting upon your tongue, serving his passion with hostility.

Obediently, you swallowed, thrusting your lower half into his own abdomen before your lips connected again, good sense and respect thrown out the window as you two forgot completely about the world outside, allowing each other to envelop each whole.

"You've been waiting to do this forever, I can taste it on my lips... so go ahead and ruin me." You murmured softly, as if the building was full and it was only meant for him to hear, but roughy in nature, your hands reaching for his cock that was already hard and showcasing a tent in his pants. Spencer slapped them away, placing your hands back on the edge of the desk as he situated himself in the leather chair of his office, pulling your pussy closer to his face.

"Spencer—"

"I think about you a little more than I should. I think about this," He hungrily ran his middle finger down your vagina, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit, basking in the way it glimmered off the insides of your thighs before placing the tip of his finger between his lips, a selfish act. "well, I think about this a lot."

You reach your hands down to cup his cheeks in silent approval, his pupils dilated while he begins to pump just his middle finger in and out at a steady pace, your hips thrusting up to meet his just seconds before his tongue pounces. At first he doesn't hear your noises— too focused on your taste and allure as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, adding another finger. Above him, you grasp the short cubical wall, holding on as if you'd fall into endless abyss without it, making animalistic noises that make Spencer think he could die right there and here, his face and fingers buried in your cunt. He's a man of science, yet he thinks he's seen God.

He witnesses you grab his head of hair, pushing him up against you and grinding up and down as if you couldn't get enough, shouting his name, and spouting your release on his lips. You twitch, riding out your high with his face planted between your legs and your soul located on another planet.

You look down to witness Spencer cleaning you off with his tongue, his mouth swallowing your wetness that had spread to your thighs, his hips under a spell, causing them to thrust into the empty space, allowing you to realize in that moment that he hadn't even noticed he was doing it, either. You grab him by the top of his sweater bringing his face to your level with a simple request,

"Fuck me, Spencer?"

He smiles gleefully, reaching down to unbuckle his trousers that already spotted precum on the front of them, a moan rising lowly in his throat.

"I need to get this dick inside of you before I cum." He pumps himself a few times, before pushing into your cunt, hand rising to hold your legs back, unable to keep the strident moan from coming out of his throat, your fingernails drilling into his hips, waist, mouth, neck, anything you could grasp.

He's got the fire and he walks with flames...

One after the other, his hips snap to yours quickly, meeting in a smack as his thumb connects between the both of you in circles to rub, coaxing your second orgasm out.

He's got the fire and he talks with flames...

You both moan out, cumming over one another, producing what Spencer would call "the perfect melody", if there had ever been one.

He kisses you one last time, and this time's different. It feels like longing, and you can't be too sure as you draw back to look at him and he stares blankly across the room, breath heavy. You watch as he bends to look through his desk, pulling out a tissue and wiping his cum from your core softly, eyes focused on anything but your face before he's shoving it into his pocket to dispose of outside the office.

What shocks you most is when he takes your peach panties that were once discarded on the floor and tucks them into his desk, under files, for safe keeping. But Spencer still won't meet your eyes.

You hoist your hips up, sliding off the surface of the wooden desk to spread out your skirt, now wrinkled, and to sweep your hair out of your face, that to your surprise, he does himself to catch your attention.

"Look, I just..." He begins, and you bite your lip, the realization of what you've done setting in.

In the back of your mind, you know what makes you actually feel bad. It’s the fact that you don't feel much remorse, if at all, and it causes the high tides of your mind to drown, shame swallowing you from the inside out. The lingering touches, the stares— the everything, they happened before Spencer and JJ. You reminisce, afraid to blink, scared that you’d see the memories of Spencer telling you about her would come flashing behind your eyelids, replaying like they always did at night.

Before he was JJ's, he was yours. Part of you begged to say he still was, even though you watched who he walked into the office with each day when they exited the same car, hand in hand. You tilted your head, as if to encourage him to go on, to finish telling you he regretted it, even if his eyes showed the opposite. There was not a single chance in the world that he could utter what he really wanted to, not after he had been pining after her for years. Not one of you were stupid enough to do that and you knew it.

His Bonnie on the side, his Bonnie on the side, makes me a sad, sad girl...

"I just wanted to tell you that I know we shouldn't have done this but—"

He glances down as the phone in his left pocket begins to ring, and before he even pulls it out, both of you are eerily aware of exactly who it is, the ironical energy of it all lingers in the air as Spencer gives you a sad look, picking up the phone.

"Hello? Oh— no. I was just getting ready to leave. Just finishing up the night." He looks right at you, contemplating, before cleaning off the rest of your wetness on his chin with the sleeve of his jumper. He’s just fucked you silly, only to go home to her.

You find yourself shoving your heels on and collecting your things off your desk across the room, his eyes following you and doing the same.

I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl...

Spencer walks beside you to the doors of the BAU, knowing that hours from now, in the morning, you’d both come to work. You'd act like it never happened, avoid and ignore each other, until wondering hands wondered again. Until then, Spencer would deny himself of the woman he spent his time thinking about. He’d act as if he didn't need you.

He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the doors ahead of you, slinging his messenger bag strap higher up his shoulders, and let his fingers dawdle there for just a second more than needed, the signal not unbeknownst to you. With just the two of you here, he loiters on the idea that that cannot ever be, you and him. And on his lips he tastes spite, mixed with wishful thinking.

I'm a sad girl, I'm a sad girl, I'm a mad girl.

part 2

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