#THANK YOU GUYS FOR 7.5k

[straylightdream]

APT. 847b

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon jeonghan x camgirl! reader

Having sex with your roommate normally complicates things. What happens when being with Jeonghan just makes sense?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: roommates to lovers, friends with benefits??, soulmate au?? non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: camgirl reader, camboy jeonghan, lots of emotions, they’re both very down bad for each other and don’t realize it. Smut warning below the cut.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.5k

an: this story switches between jeonghan and the readers pov. It will be label by his name and her, when the pov is switching. This is a part of my little universe of loosely connected SVT stories called all for you. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me figure out this story.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: multiple sex scenes, camgirl reader, camboy jeonghan, soft dom/switch jeonghan, voyerism, masturbation, mutal masturbation, oral (male rec), sex toys, dirty talk, nipple play, squirting, unprotected sex, cream-pie, breeding kink, cum play, sex tapes, cam boy jeonghan??, lots of emotions, tipsy sex (they’re both fully consenting), filming sexual slut shaming (not by any of the boys. The mc refers to herself as one). names: hers (baby, good girl, angel), his (baby, hannie)

-JEONGHAN-

Jeonghan was tired of being one of the few single people in his friend group. He had zero desire to try online dating like a few friends and all his friends that were girls were already dating one of the other guys in his friend group. He thought maybe if he had a girlfriend or someone for companionship he wouldn’t feel like something is missing in his life.

-

Looking at his computer at the kitchen table his brain was hurting looking at all his banking info. It was coming up on that time if the month when rent was due. Since Jihoon moved out to move in with his girlfriend, Jeonghan and his other roommate Kitten decided to just split the amount of the whole apartment instead of finding another roommate. This was working out but now it’s been six months and Jeonghan is tired of spending so much on rent.

Kitten walked in the door with groceries in hand. She instantly noticed how stressed Jeonghan looked.

“What’s up?” She asked as she set some groceries on the table.

“I think we need to get a roommate. I can’t keep paying this much for rent.”

“Okay that works for me. I just request we maybe find a girl roommate. Also we should probably tell her right away about my job.” Jeonghan assumed Kitten would want a girl roommate. With her being a cam girl he knew having a random man she didn’t know living with them could make things weird. “Wait. Would it be weird if I asked one of my friends I met through Cherry moved in?”

“Is she a camgirl?” Honestly Jeonghan didn’t care what Kitten did for a living. He also didn’t care if another girl who did the same job moved in.

“Yeah she is.”

“That’s fine with me.”

-HER-

Your last roommate you had started making you uncomfortable after finding out about your job. You were in desperate need of a new place to live.

One day when you were out to lunch with Cherry she mentioned having friends that were looking for a roommate. She mentioned one of them being Kitten, a fellow camgirl. You knew right then that would be a good place to live.

You’ve been living with Jeonghan and Kitten for four months now. You and Kitten were already friends and your first reaction when you met Jeonghan was that he's absolutely beautiful.

You learned very quickly they’re both amazing roommates. Jeonghan keeps the apartment very tidy and Kitten loves cooking for you guys. Kitten’s boyfriend Joshua is often at the apartment. He’s best friends with Jeonghan so he’ll even come over just to hang out with him even if Kitten is busy.

You work at a tech company as a software programmer during the day and at night you stream to make extra money. Work has been absolutely shitty recently and this week all your deadlines have been driving you insane. After getting yelled at by your boss you can’t wait to get home. The moment you walk through the door you instantly notice how quiet the apartment is. Opening your phone you see a text sent to your roommate group chat.

5:32pm

From Kitten <3: I’m not coming home tonight. I’m staying at Shau’s place. I made pasta for lunch and I made you each a container. They’re in the fridge for you.

From Jeonghan: thank you. I’m heading home soon. I carpooled with Hao to work.

From you: if anyone needs me I’m getting wine drunk. I had a shitty day at work.

5:37pm

From Jeonghan: don’t get wasted before I get there. I’ll get wine drunk with you.

Walking into the apartment Jeonghan finds you sitting on the couch in your pajamas with a large glass of wine in your hands. You’re dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

Jeonghan sits his work bag down by the door and slips off his shoes.

“That’s a lot of wine,” he says walking closer to you.

“I had a shitty day,” you raise your glass at him.

“Let me get out of this work clothes.” He heads off to his room and comes back in a pair of sweats and baggy shirt.

He heads off to the kitchen and comes back with a wine glass for himself. He pours himself a big glass of red wine and sits down next to you.

“Am I crazy if I quit my tech job?” This week feels like it’s been absolutely eating you alive trying to maintain your nine to five job. You take another big drink of wine.

“Not necessarily. I don’t know how inappropriate this is to ask but do you make enough on your lives to afford to get by?” You know Jeonghan is one of the few people you can have that conversation with. He knows all about how being a full time camgirl works because of Kitten.

“Honestly I make enough to live comfortably. In all reality if I quit my tech job I could probably focus more on streaming and making my subscribers only page make even more money.” You’ve been thinking about this for a while, you've just never mentioned it to anyone.

“You’re pretty miserable at your tech job aren’t you?” He’s seen you so stressed out you started crying last week. Jeonghan is very aware of how much you hate your job.

“I fucking hate it,” you sigh.

“If you think you make enough steaming, I say do it. If you have a rough month with money. I can help you figure out rent.” Jeonghan has been so nice to you since the moment you met him. You can’t believe he’s willing to help you with money if things get tough.

“I’m gonna tell them Monday I’m quitting,” you can’t help but smile.

“I think you’re going to be so much happier.”

Taking a big sip of wine you instantly feel relieved. You can’t wait to no longer work a nine to five job.

“Did you already heat up Kitten’s food she made for us?”

“No.”

Reaching over his pats your thigh, and lets out a soft laugh. “Maybe we should eat something before we drink our weight in red wine.”

Getting up he goes into the kitchen and starts warming up the food your roommate left. Sitting at the kitchen table you pour yourself another large glass of wine. He places the food on the table in front of you. Before sitting down across from you.

The food is absolutely delicious. Just like it always is when Kitten makes anything.

“Did you wanna watch something in the living room together?” He asked picking up your empty bowl.

“Sure.”

Sitting back down on the couch you take another big drink of wine before sitting your glass down on the coffee table. Jeonghan turns on a drama he’s been watching before he gets comfortable next to you on the couch. It’s not uncommon for you to practically cuddle leaning against each other on the couch.

His arm is over your shoulder as you lean against him. The whole time his show is playing you aren’t really paying attention. Even the red wine can’t seem to stop your over thinking about work. Without even thinking you pick the little lent pieces that are on the thigh if Jeonghan’s sweats. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his thigh flex under your touch.

He takes a deep breath. Glancing up you see he’s no longer watching the tv, he’s eyes are trained on you.

“Sorry,” you pulled your hand away feeling instantly embarrassed.

He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you blinking. The air feels heavy. Without even thinking you go back to playing with the fabric of his sweats. Your hand travels towards the inside of his thighs almost testing the waters. The sound of him swallowing loudly tells you you’re playing a dangerous game.

“Do you want me to stop?” You whisper not even sure if your voice is fully audible. Maybe it’s the red wine in your veins making you bold enough to make a move on your roommate.

“No,” he voice is clear as day.

Your hand slides up his thigh. The growing bulge in his sweatpants is a clear indicator that he’s enjoying this. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

Slowly your hand slides up his thigh. Stopping just at his bulge. Your eyes stay locked on his as you cup his bulge. He’s a little bigger than average size by the feel of it. A low moan passes his lips as you feel him up.

Your eyes stayed locked on him as you groped him. He’s so hard in your hand and straining against his sweatpants.

“Hannie,” you whisper.

“Yes?”

“Are you sober?” You want to make sure he’s fully aware of what is happening.

“I was barely tipsy. Are you sober?” He looks so gentle suddenly.

“I’m just tad tipsy.” You don’t stop touching him as you speak. “But I want this.” You have thought about touching him for weeks.

“Can I please kiss you?”

“Please.”

Without another word he removes your hand from him and pulls your pilant body on to his lap. His straining erection is pressed up against your clothed core. Resting his hand on your cheek he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. Rolling your hips against his for some friction, a soft moan passes your lips.

The first time your lips touch in a tipsy state it feels sobering. The feeling of Jeonghan’s soft lips against yours gives you butterflies. He’s holding your face in his hands slowly he pulls away and smiles at you.

“I have wanted to kiss you for a while.” His voice is low. There’s no words you can think say. Crashing your lips into his once again for a heated kiss.

“I wondered what it was like to kiss you.” His hands grip your hips and guide your body against his. After your shitty day at work you didn’t think it would end with you dry humping your roommate while you make out.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans as his lips start kissing your jaw.

Rolling your hips against his erection you can feel your panties starting to stick to your wet core. “Hannie, can you fuck me?” You moan.

Pulling away from you, he rolls his head back moaning. “I want to so badly.”

Crawling off his lap you quickly remove your sleep shorts and your wet panties. His eyes stay locked on your pussy. It is clearly wet with need. You hope he doesn’t mind that you aren’t shaved bare. Since you started streaming you realized you didn’t need to wax all the time. Men tended to like you like that. He swallows watching you for a moment before he takes this as his cue to remove his sweats and boxers.

The sight of his cock is absolutely mouth watering. His cock is just as pretty as you thought it would be. It’s a little bigger than the average man. It’s a pretty blush color, and curves up towards him. The base of him has a well kept patch of pubes with a little happy trail.

Crawling onto his lap you nestle his length between your folds.

“Can I take this off?” He messes with the hem of your baggy shirt.

“Yes,” you sigh.

He pulls off your shirts and marvels at the fact you aren’t wearing a bra. “Can you take yours off?” Silently he follows your request.

You’re both completely naked sitting on your living room coach. Rolling your hips, his cock slides through your folds. Everytime his mushroom tip brushes your clit you can’t help but gasp.

“Should I get a condom?” He moans taking your breast in his hand. His hands knead your flesh.

“I’m clean and have an iud.”

“Where did you want me to finish?” He plays with your nipples, tweaking them between two fingers.

“Wherever you want. I would prefer you fill me up.”

“Are you asking me to come inside you?” He looks completely caught off guard by your request.

“Please,” you practically beg.

“Okay baby.”

Your lips move together as you slowly sink down on his length. Your fingers tangle in his blonde hair holding him close. Lifting your hips you keep a slow pace. Each time you roll your hips forward you clit brushes against his pubic bone earning a moan.

Your nose brushes his as your lips are so close to touching. The only sounds in the room are the soft moans, and pants. His lips connect to your neck leaving open mouth kisses.

The way his cock is curved his brushing against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“You feel so good,” he moans. “You’re so tight.”

As you move your body up and down his length you can’t really think straight. You're lost in a lust filled haze. It feels like he was made for you. His cock hits the perfect spot inside of you.

The coil in your stomach tightens more and more with each thrust. His hands grip your sides helping you move. Suddenly the coil snaps and a white hot wave washes over you.

Moaning his name like a prayer. He starts lifting his hips helping you ride out your orgasm.

-JEONGHAN-

“Can I cum inside you?” He begs. He’s desperate and sounds like he’s on the verge of falling apart.

“Please fill me up.”

His hands grip your hips as he chases his release. Your walls contract around him as another orgasm follows, milking his cock. Thick white ropes fill you to the brim. He doesn’t think he’s ever come this much in his life. Looking into your eyes for a moment he feels like this was supposed to happen. He doesn’t know how he ever was to survive not touching you.

-HER-

You stop moving, leaning against him. Your face rest in the crook of his neck. You press open mouth wet kisses to the delicate skin on his neck.

“That was unexpected.” Gently he rubs your back.

“That was amazing.” You murmured against his skin.

“I need to clean you up and make sure my cum doesn’t get on the couch. Kitten might kill us if we stained this couch.”

Standing up your legs feel like jello. Looking down between your legs you watch as Jeonghan cum starts trickling down your thigh. Without even thinking his grabs his shirt and gently wipes away his release. Grabbing your hand he takes you to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter and wipes way any cum that is leaking out.

Standing between you legs his hand rest on your cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good.”

“The only girl I have ever wanted to make feel good is you.” Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours for a gentle kiss.

Everything feels like it makes sense right now. There isn’t any awkward tension or any feelings of regret. He helps you off the counter and without even asking takes you to his room. He pulls you close to his body and presses another kiss to your forehead.

- JEONGHAN-

“Can I ask you something that might be a little too intrusive?”

You’re naked in his bed you aren’t sure what he could possibly be worried about asking you. “Go for it?”

“What kind of stuff do you film?”

“You’ve never looked up my account?” You’ve mentioned your username before. You just kinda assumed he would investigate. Some of your other friends have. Hell even your last roommate did.

“Never. I’ve never looked up Kitten or Cherry either. It just felt like an invasion of privacy. Also I don’t think it’s really fair to Shau or Jun if I looked up their partners.”

“Do you think any of the boys have looked me up?” Jeonghan's whole friend group basically knows about your job. You found out when Cherry started seeing Jun she slowly let the friend group know and Kitten’s secret had slowly gotten out as well as she felt more comfortable letting close friends know.

“No none of them have. They all just see it as a normal job.”

“I film a lot of solo stuff with toys. I back in the day used to film with this guy I was casually seeing but he never fucked me on camera. I just used to film giving him head. Things with us ended when he got a serious girlfriend.”

“Would you ever film with someone again?” He can’t lie, he's curious. He is one of the only people Jun has told about filming with girlfriend. He knows Jun films with Cherry all the time but makes sure his face is never seen.

“I wouldn’t be against it. It has to be the right person. I need to make sure I trust them.”

He looks up at the ceiling. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so interested in the possibility of filming with you. He’s never had a desire to preform sexual acts in camera. But there is something about you that he’s interested in doing it with you.

“Would you trust me?”

Knitting your brows together you stare at him for a long moment. “I do trust you.” Lacing his fingers with yours he squeezes your hand gently. “Did you want to film with me?”

“I’m quite interested.”

“Have you talked to Jun?”

“Yeah he told me about his anonymous filming he does. It piqued my interest, but I don’t want you to think I slept with you because of that.” He’s suddenly worried you’re going to think he’s a creep.

“Last time I checked I started this when I was messing with your sweatpants,” you let out a little laugh. “If you were interested in filming with me. We could try whatever you’re comfortable doing.”

“I think I want to try at least once.”

-HER-

When morning comes you're reminded you’re in Jeonghan bed when you feel his morning wood poking your butt. His arm tights around your waist letting you know he’s awake.

“Hannie.”

“Baby,” he groans, pushing his dick further against your butt. His hand moved down your stomach. His hand cups your pussy. His finger dips between your folds earning a moan. “I want you again,” he groans.

“You can have me,” you moan.

“Are you going to put it in?”

“Do you want me to fuck you again?”

“Please, Hannie.”

He pushes your leg forward to give himself better access to your core. “Do I need to get a condom?”

“No want you raw,” you moan. He’s grinding against your core, making you feel like you’re going insane.

Slowly he pushes into you. He’s hitting a different angle than last night. “This might be the best way to wake up,” he groans. “You feel even tighter from this angle.”

It doesn’t take long before you fall apart moaning his name. The feeling of him finishing inside you is intoxicating. You understand why people have creampie kink. You’ve never fucked anyone on camera before, but now you can’t get the thought of Jeonghan fucking you on camera out of your mind.

Walking out of Jeonghan room dressed in a pair of his sweats and baggy shirt. He takes your hand in his before pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Hannie?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we don’t tell Kitten right away. Especially if we’re gonna film together.”

“Okay that works for me.”

-

You have officially quit your job and have decided to fully focus on being a camgirl.

After that night you and Jeonghan first slept together things between you have definitely changed. It feels like you’re definitely together but you’re sneaking around. Neither of you are ready for Kitten to know or any of your friends. You haven’t had a chance to film together yet, but Jeonghan sat in your room last night while you were filming. He sat on the other side of the camera. His hand stroking his length mimicking the speed you’re thrusting your sparkly blue dildo into yourself.

Him being in the room while you’re filming is absolutely thrilling. It’s intoxicating knowing that no one knows what’s happening other than the two of you.

After filming you always take a nice hot shower and the addition of Jeonghan joining you is welcomed. He massages mango scented shampoo into your hair.

“I like watching you film,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence that has formed between you.

“I liked you watching.”

“Did you still wanna go out to the bar with Seungcheol, Darling, Honey, Wonwoo, Chan and Minghao?”

“Oh yeah I’ll go. I think Shau is coming over here. Kitten mentioned wanting to film. We could give them some privacy.” He taps your butt signaling for you to turn around to rinse your hair.

You spend the rest of the shower not doing anything sexual. Jeonghan finishes washing your hair, and you help wash his hair before getting out. Each of you go to your seperate room to get dressed and get ready to go out.

Walking out into the living room you find Joshua sitting on the couch talking to Jeonghan. Kitten pops out of the kitchen holding a bottle of water.

“Are you guys meeting Cheol at the bar?” Joshua asked.

“Yeah Cheol was saying it’s been too long since we all met up for beers.”

“(Y/N) are you going?” Kitten asked.

“Yeah Jeonghan said we can use this to celebrate me being free from my job.”

“That means you should get wasted. Hannie can take care of you,” Joshua says, patting your roommate on the shoulder.

“Hannie take care of our girl,” Kitten says as she walks over and holds her hand out signaling her boyfriend to stand up.

“I always take care of her,” Jeonghan’s words have a double meaning that neither of them catch.

Jeonghan drives you to the bar telling you that he would be designated driver that you could let loose and have fun.

As soon as you arrive Darling and Honey pull you away saying they want to do shots to celebrate you quitting.

-JEONGHAN-

Standing at the bar Jeonghan is ordering himself a beer, and you a drink. Seungcheol walks up patting him on the back.

“I’m glad you brought (Y/N) with you. Darling and Honey seem to love her.” Seungcheol says before taking a sip of his beer.

“She’s great. She just quit her tech job so I told her this would be a good way to celebrate.” The bartender puts two drinks down in front of him, and Jeonghan hands him his card to pay.

“I take it that means she’s going to work full time doing the same thing as Kitten and Cherry?” It’s funny all the boys know now that Kitten and Cherry are camgirl but they’re all really respectful about it and never directly say what their jobs is.

“Yeah she makes good money doing it. She was absolutely miserable at her tech job. I can’t count the number of times she came home crying from work.” Jeonghan hated seeing you upset.

“You know I think she’s a good fit for the group. She gets along with all boys and the girls adore her. It’s a bonus that she understands and relates to Kitten and Cherry.” Seungcheol says.

“I think with Jun seeing Cherry and her being open about her job made Kitten feel more comfortable letting everyone know.” Jeonghan remembers when Kitten awkwardly told him about her job. She seemed so worried that Jeonghan would be upset or judge her, but he honestly didn’t care. He’s always been a very sex positive person, and if his roommate could make a living being a cam girl he would never judge her. He wouldn’t ever judge you either. Your job didn’t define you. He was quite interested in your job though, and wanted to explore aspects of it with you.

Seungcheol clears his throat, catching his attention. “You zoned out on me.”

“Sorry I was just thinking.” He stares at his drink before taking a sip.

“Why don’t you go take (Y/N) her drink?”

Walking over he interrupts your conversation with the girls to hand your drink. He wants to give you time to catch up with the girls. Walking over he joins Wonwoo and Minghao at the pool table.

The moment Chan joins the boys at the pool table he’s already in full gear complaining about his coworker. Jeonghan gets an earful about the new girl that is making Chan’s life, as he says “a living hell.” That’s probably because they’re competing for the same promotion.

Minghao just shakes his head before taking a drink of his beer. Seungcheol soon joins the rest of the boys after bugging his girlfriend who seems more interested in catching up with the girls.

The whole time boys are playing pool he can’t seem to fully focus on the game. He keeps glancing over at you.

“You’re not nearly as competitive tonight as you normally are,” Wonwoo bumps him. Jeonghan glances up at his friend. He’s trying to be subtle about the fact he can only focus on you.

“I got a lot on my mind.”

“Maybe, your roommate can help with that.”

“Wonwoo-“

“I’m just messing with you. I know you’ve had a crush for a while.”

“Let’s not talk about this,” Jeonghan doesn’t need any of the boys in his business. Especially since he hasn’t properly talked about what is going on between you.

The girls rush over with a tray of shots. Jeonghan passes on taking one knowing he needs to drive you home. He watches as everyone toast to you quitting your job.

As the night goes on Jeonghan watches as you, Chan, and Darling get absolutely wasted. Honey is quite drunk but nowhere on the level of the others. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this drunk. There is something so cute about how fluster you get in this drunken state.

Seungcheol is taking care of his girlfriend who is even more clingy than normal.

Chan is fighting with Wonwoo about not wanting to go home.

“I need to take Chan home,” Wonwoo says, holding the wrist of his very drunk friend.

“I’ll ride with you guys to help,” Minghao chimes in.

“Wonwoo, can you hold my hand?” Honey asked, walking up to her boyfriend.

“I need to get my own drunk one back to my place,” Seungcheol says, holding his girlfriend’s hand.

Leaning into Jeonghan you wrap your arms around his waist holding him. “Hannie, are you going to take me home?”

He leans down pressing his lips to the top of your head, “yes, angel.”

Taking your hand he leads out of the bar and helps you into his car. After buckling you in he starts heading home. Leaning your head against the cool glass window. Reaching over he rests his hand on your thigh.

“Hannie?”

“Yes angel?”

“Thank you,” you murmur, sounding like you’re trying not to fall asleep.

“For what?” He glances over at you trying to focus on the road.

“For being my person.”

“You’re my person too,” he gently squeezes your thigh.

Arriving home he helps you into the elevator. He notices the apartment is quite quiet but he can hear the sound of music lightly playing in Kitten’s room.

“Your bed or mine?” He asked.

“Mine but will you sleep with me? I wanna cuddle.” He had zero intention of letting you sleep alone. In your drunken state he wanted to make sure you were safe.

“Of course.”

He leads you off to the bathroom where he sits you on the toilet and uses one of your makeup wipes and helps you clean your face. Once in your room he helps you strip down to just your underwear. He even helps you remove your bra you were complaining about. He hands you a baggy shirt he knows you love to sleep in. He doesn’t bother going to his room to get his pajama pants. He strips down to his boxers and joins you under the covers.

Curling up on your side he can tell you’re barely awake. He turns off the light on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He curls up behind you spooning you. This is quite possibly his favorite way to fall asleep. He is never more comfortable than when he is holding you.

“Night Hannie,” you whisper.

“Goodnight baby.”

He doesn’t fall asleep as quickly as you. He can’t seem to shut off his mind. He doesn’t understand how one person can make him feel so many emotions like you do.

When sleep finally finds him, he only dreams of you.

-HER-

It’s been two months since the first time you slept together, the first of many times. Since then Jeonghan has brought up filming with you a few times. Recently he’s been enjoying being in the room masturbating with you off screen.

Today is the day he finally asked if he could officially go on your stream with you.

“Maybe pull your hair back so it looks short and wear a face mask in case any of you face shows.” You think it’s best if he stays anonymous as possible. Especially if it ends up being a one time thing.

“Okay.” He works on pulling his hair back.

“If you don’t want to do this I fully understand,” you want to give him an opportunity to back out.

“I want to do this.”

“How do you want to do this?” You need to know what his boundaries are. You’re willing to do anything he feels comfortable doing. You know with Junhui and Cherry he stays fully dressed and plays with her on camera. She’s mentioned they filmed a full sex tape before but she decided against posting it. You aren’t sure if you would ever feel comfortable posting one of those, but if you trust anyone enough to film a full sex tape it would be Jeonghan.

“Maybe the first time you give me head and I’ll finger you.” He seems a little nervous and you don’t blame him. Your first time you went live you were nervous too.

“I’m going to suggest you talk dirty to me while I give you head. People eat that up.”

Jeonghan sits on the bed and you make sure the camera isn’t showing his face. You adjust the camera so no matter where he sits it should only show him from the neck down.

You start your stream and sit on the bed next to him. You’re dressed in a see through lavender bra and crotchless panties.

You greet your audience and tell them you have a mystery friend helping you. All the comments are instantly excited that you have brought someone to film with you. Some of the requests people are leaving are asking him to do wild things to you.

Leaning over you whisper in his ear, “act like it’s just us two.”

He nods silently. Standing up he removes his underwear and sits on the chair angled in front of the camera. The angle makes it where you only see the bottom of his jaw that is covered by a mask. Slowly he strokes his length as you crawl towards him.

“Such a pretty cock,” you say as you sit on your knees in front of him. The sight of him naked on the chair in front of you is mouth watering.

Putting his hand under your chin he tilts your head up. “Are you going to be a good girl for me and suck it?”

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” He groans at your dirty words. You never talk like this to him when you’re fooling around.

Sticking your tongue out you stare at him through your lashes. Tapping his dick against your tongue. You smile as he pulls away. Neither of you are normally like this in bed together and this kind of feels like you’re role playing. This whole scenario is exciting.

“Open,” he commands.

Placing the tip of his dick in your mouth you instantly start sucking him. His dark eyes stay locked on you as you focus on taking him further in your mouth. One hand rests on his thigh steadying yourself while the other pumps his neglected shaft. Your focus is on his sensitive tip right now.

Hollowing your cheeks you take him all the way in. Thank god you don’t really have a gag reflex as he brushes the back of your throat. Looking up at him with watery eyes you wish you could see his whole face. His hands brush your hair away from your face. Making a makeshift ponytail with his hand.

“Such a good girl,” he moans.

He is not even touching you and he’s making you wet. You don’t think you’ve ever cum fully untouched, but today might be the day.

Popping off him you smile up at him taking this moment to properly breathe again. Taking his length in both hands you pump him and focus on his tip again. Tilting his head back he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Taking him back into your mouth you take him until your nose brushes against his will trimmed patch of pubic hair. His stomach muscles tense as he’s on the brink of falling apart.

Pulling off him you look at him and say, “are you going to come in my mouth?”

“That depends, are you going to be a good girl and swallow?”

“Anything for you.”

Hollowing your cheeks you take him fully again. His fingers tangled in your hair helping guide you up and down his length. Your eyes are a watery mess as he keeps brushing the back of your throat. The echoing moan of the word “baby”’ takes over your senses as he feels your mouth with his milky release.

You keep sucking until he’s finished and clearly spent. Pulling off of him he rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushes your bottom lip wiping away some of his cum.

Opening your mouth you show him cum. You’ve never been a fan of swallowing, but you would do it everyday with him.

“Good girl,” he whispers. Closing your mouth you swallow everything he gave you.

“Can I play with your favorite vibrator?” He asked standing up. Walking off camera he grabs some tissues cleaning himself up.

“Please.”

“Lay on your bed and spread your legs wide for all the nice people to see.”

Crawling on the bed he sits on his knees next to you. Making sure your wet pussy is on full display for everyone watching. He’s attempting to make sure the only part of him that shows is his jaw that is covered by a mask.

Holding the vibrator to your already sensitive clit he starts by pumping one finger. Giving you a chance to adjust before he adds a second. He hooks his long fingers brushing your g spot over. Your body feels tense as the coil in your stomach tightens. At the rate he’s going you're going to fall apart the quickest you ever have.

“Is baby close to cumming?” He says staring into your lust filled eyes. You aren’t sure you can form proper words, you just nod your head.

“Can you take another finger?”

“Yes.”

He stretches you open more, adding another finger. He clicks up the speed of the vibrator practically making you scream.

Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks and for the first time ever fluid rushes out of you. Coating Jeonghan’s arm in your release. Your body feels weightless as you lay there trying to breathe.

Looking at Jeonghan you see his arm glistening. You’ve never squirted before and you weren’t even sure you could. Your cheeks instantly flush, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Such a good girl,” he pulls away from your core. He clicked off the vibrator tossing it on your bed.

“That’s all folks,” he walks over and ends your livestream.

Laying there you close your eyes staring up at the ceiling. Slowly sitting up you watch as he removes his face mask and pulls on his boxers before dashing out of your room. He comes back holding a washcloth.

“Baby spread your legs for me. I need to clean you up.”

The warm water cloth against your sensitive core is nice. “I’ve never squirted before.”

“Oh,” he instantly sports a cocky smile.

“I’m gonna need to clean my sheets.” You can’t even think about getting out of bed yet. Your body feels like jello.

“How about you take a shower and I’ll strip your bed and toss your bedding in the washer.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Suddenly things feel very deeper between you and you honestly just want him to hold you.

He helps you stand up. He leans down and presses his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “Of course you can stay in my bed.”

“What if Kitten sees us?” You ask the question that has been on your mind since this all started.

“We don’t have to hide anything. If she sees us I’m okay with that.”

Slowly you sit up and stare at him for a moment. You don’t think you can really keep your feelings out of whatever is happening between you. “Jeonghan, I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too. I actually more than like you.” His words instantly give you butterflies. “Go take a shower and we’ll talk more after. Come to my room after.”

Standing under the warm water you can’t seem to shut off your brain. Things suddenly feel so different, but that’s not a bad thing.

-JEONGHAN-

Three little words have been floating around in his head for a while now. He tries to stop thinking about it as he throws your bedding into the washer. When heads to his room he goes through his drawers finding something for you to sleep in. All he can do is picture your face as you lay on your bed completely blissed out.

The bedroom door opens and you walk in with a towel wrapped around you. “Is Kitten with Joshua?”

“Yeah they’re actually at her parents house for dinner.” He forgot to mention that earlier. “I picked out something for you to sleep in.”

“You don’t want to sleep naked?” You give him a smile.

“I mean we can if you want. I was thinking we could get cozy, and talk about some things.”

You take the clothes from him and get dressed, not bothering to get underwear. You’re wearing some of his sleep shorts, and a baggy shirt.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed Jeonghan stands in front of you for a moment before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “You know for the longest time you seem to be the only thing I can think about?” His heart swells instantly when he sees you smile at his words.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“It’s very good. You make me so incredibly happy.” He smiles.

“Jeonghan, you make me happy.”

Sitting down on the bed next to you. Taking your hand in his he squeezes it three times. “Hannie-“

“Yes Angel?”

“You truly are my person. I like you so much.” You suddenly feel like crying. They aren’t sad tears. They’re anything but. “You're the first person I’ve ever been that doesn’t make me feel like I’m some slut for my job.”

“Don’t ever call yourself that.” He chimes in.

“I don’t think I am one. I just need you to know. You make me feel so normal.”

The smile on his face is heartwarming. “You know I watched Shau and Kitten figure out their shit. They went from friends to being head over heels for each other. I even watched Wonwoo fall for Honey. And I even saw the other boys find their girlfriends. I was always so jealous wishing that I would know what it’s like to find companionship like theirs and to fall hopelessly in love.” He pauses, reaching up and resting his hand on your cheek. “And then I met you. Everything suddenly felt like it clicked when you moved in. The moment we met I had a feeling I was going to love you.”

Tears start sliding down your cheek. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your way of telling me you love me?”

“Absolutely,” his thumb brushes the tears staining your cheek.

“I remember when Kitten introduced us. I thought you were so beautiful and I knew I was royalty fucked.” A soft laugh passes your lips. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I should properly say, I love you.” He leans over and presses his lips to your for a soft kiss.

“Does this mean we’re officially a couple?” You think that it’s time you put a label on this.

“Angel have been my girlfriend since we fucked on the couch.” He laughs.

“Since the first night we hooked up?”

“Yes. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.”

“So you’re my boyfriend?”

“Yes, and you’re my girlfriend.”

Holding your face in both hands he leans in pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Your lips move together as if you need each other to breathe. Pulling away he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Since the beginning things between you have always made sense. You aren’t shocked that you fell in love with your roommate. It almost seems inevitable.

That night when you finally lose your clothes Jeonghan has you on your stomach with a pillow under your hips. Slowly he rolls his hips into you. He hits a spot deep inside. His thrusts are a little lazier than normal but you feel so incredibly close to him. His lips are over your bare shoulders. Between kisses you hear him whisper, “I love you.”

Both your highs reach you at the same time. Falling apart you moan his name. His thrust grows a little sloppy until he slows down.

He sits back on his knees and watches as his cum slowly starts to drip out of you. His mind feels fuzzy and all he can think about in that moment is how much he likes seeing you filled with him. Running his finger through your sensitive folds, he collects his cum and slowly pushes it back inside you.

He’s surprised you don’t comment on his fascination with pushing his cum back inside you.

“Hannie?”

“Yea Angel?”

“Are you having fun back there?” You tease him.

“Sorry I just like seeing you filled with me cum.” He doesn’t even bother trying to lie.

Crawling off the bed slowly he cleans himself off with a tissue before throwing in boxers and heading off to get a warm cloth to clean you up.

Jeonghan puts back on his sweatpants and you get dressed back in the sleep clothes he picked out for you.

Crawling back into bed a soft yawn passes your lips. Rolling in your side you signal for him to come hold you. The moment he is on the bed he pulls close to him. This feels perfect.

-HER-

When morning comes your wake with your body curled up against Jeonghan’s. Your head resting on his chest and your legs tangled together.

You never sleep better than you do when you’re in his arms. A soft yawn passes his lips as he pulls you closer.

“I need coffee,” his voice is raspy.

“We should get up and make some,” you nuzzle against his chest.

Slowly you both crawl out of his bed. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips. Holding your hand he leads you out of his room and out to the living room.

“Well I didn’t expect to see this,” Joshua's voice startles both of you.

Both of you stop in your tracks. Kitten pops out of the kitchen and instantly smiles at you and Jeonghan holding hands.

“I can’t say I’m shocked,” Kitten has a huge smile on her face. “You two always flirt and Hannie has always been quite fond of (Y/N).” Glancing up you see Jeonghan is blushing. You squeeze his hand and give him a smile. “Also seemed more touchy than normal.”

Kitten looks instantly happy as she stares at both of you. “So is this like an official thing?”

“I mean I love her and she’s my girlfriend,” Jeonghan responds.

“It’s about time you guys got together.” It turns out even your roommate knew that you were supposed to fall in love with Jeonghan.

Maybe Wonwoo is right when he talks about everyone having their own soulmate. Maybe Jeonghan is yours? You love him so much. He just makes everything feel right in your world.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, ���Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[carakook]

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

[anadiasmount]

telepathy - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: business is business. what happens when certain business is now in a twist when a new stranger comes along? let alone when there’s tension with your now boss who’s a very known stranger in the past?

wc: 7.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist | part one

psa 🗣️: phewww it’s been a while since i made a long fic, but it’s a christmas miracle!! here’s part two to the long awaited ceo! jude fic!! this fic does contain smut so minors dni!! 🔞 like always i hope you enjoy!! 🤍 i do apologize in advance for any spelling errors…

“let’s call a twenty-minute break, i need to rest my eyes for a bit,” your co-worker called out, everyone in the room letting out a despaired sigh of relief. you push your glasses up, grab your water bottle and wallet, walking out the room to the nearest vending machine to buy snacks. you greet some employees as you pass, twisting the cap to refill with ice and water. 

by instinct, you turn your head to the side looking at the huge double doors that lead to his office. you see him on an appeared work call, frustrated as he speaks loudly and with his hands, brows pulled in with a tiny frown playing on his lips. he hangs up, writing a quick note before looking up and locking eyes with you. taken at back you looked away quickly, focusing on how you almost overfilled your water bottle. 

you quickly pay for some cookies and salty crisps, avoiding how you feel a pair of eyes following you as you return to the workroom. you trip on the tiny door frame as you look back to jude, feeling two arms holding you steady, a quick thank you escaping your lips at your clumsiness. “sorry that was my fault, i wasn’t looking straight,” you laugh off. 

“it’s all good! don’t stress it can happen to anyone. i blame this doorframe for making it have a step,” the stranger jokes, looking up to see a guy dressed in a white tee and leather jacket combo, dark wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. very much giving book-coded. “i-i didn’t catch your name? i’m matt,” the green-eyed man extends your hand, and you shake it out of respect. 

“i’m y/n, it's very nice to meet you,” you smile and walk off not thinking much of it since he was either new or already worked here. you open your crips offering your friends around the room, sipping on your water as you hear lilly say something, “oh you met the new guy! that’s matt, he’s joining us at the end of the year.”

“yeah i did, right when i walked in, he seemed nice,” you shrug going back to the notepad and crossing of the items you had done and highlighting the ones you wanted to finish before the end of the day. “you didn’t hear from me, but he apparently demanded to be hired,” lilly whispered raising her brows and pursed her lips. “demanded?” you ask curiously, thinking of jude right away and how he would’ve reacted.

“yeah! which is infuriating since we went through the whole process of interview after interview, background checks, and even a test! suddenly just because he’s a man and demands to work here he gets accepted? yeah, i don’t like that,” lilly stressed typing harsher on her keyboard. “well to everyone else he’s perfect on paper, but to us, he will have to get to know us for us to trust his word… we will see if he can fit in, we’ve become a tiny family,” you say softly sending a smile to lilly where she nodded. 

💌 — judebellingham@*****.com

Good Evening Ms. Y/n, I hope you are well. 

your eyes shot up, pulse-raising as it had a couple minutes ago. the email notification caught you completely off guard making you lower your brightness immediately and scramble around. 

💌 — judebellingham@*****.com

We have a scheduled meeting in 5 mins, just a quick update on the project. Your team members requested you to speak to me. 

💌 — yournamelastname@*****.com

Will do! See you then! 

💌 — judebellingham@*****.com 

I take it you met Matt? 

your brows pull in confused, wondering why on earth he’s asking this, especially on the company's email, knowing everything could be checked and traced back. your fingers hesitate to type back a response, not knowing the outcome or why all of the sudden you felt eyes boring into you. 

jude leaned back in his chair, seeing his latest email being read yet no response back. was his question appropriate? to HR, yes. but to you? maybe not so much. jude knew how you would read this in a different manner, but he couldn’t wait to ask. he saw how he stared at you, where his hands traced, how his smile wasn’t anything friendly and more of flirtatious manner. so yes, he was going to ask. 

💌 — yournamelastname@*****.com

I did! He was very lovely and professional! Great choice for the group!

while jude chuckled almost angrily, a knock interrupted his typing, looking up to see his assistant bringing in printed paperwork he had to sign off. he knew in a few minutes you were to step into his office, just the two of you. jude gripped his pen harshly, aggressively signing off with his signature, mimicking your words because he knew you were pushing his buttons. 

“your meeting with ms. y/l/n starts soon, would you like me to bring anything?” his assistant asked, stacking the paper and organizing them in the folder. “lock the door and just make sure no one comes in and disturbs us,” jude said, looking back to his screen and seeing you hadn't replied yet, rather met with a new email from a different company. 

“hello good afternoon mr. bellingham,” you spoke professionally, greeting his assistant as he walked out, the door clicking shut. your legs felt wobbly as you walked over and sat on the chair, taking out your notebook and your favorite black pen. “ms. y/n it's nice to see you,” jude smiled leaning back as he stared at you. “we discussed the course last tuesday as a group but to my understanding there were a few changes made, along with an update on the january project correct?” jude spoke, his voice stern and serious which intimidated you. 

why you? why couldn't someone else be up here right now?

jude watched you intensely, how your legs crossed, your fresh new set of manicured nails flashing and catching his eyes instantly, your voice soft but full of professionalism, your new hair now slightly shorter than last time, but what caught his attention was the new charm on your bracelet, the letter ‘a’ with a tiny heart on the bottom, something anyone could miss but not jude. 

his mind immediately wondered to what it could be, what it stood for, or whose name. question after question and theory after theory was driving him insane. “we believe the january campaign will be finished by the end of next week, and we would begin the february one starting the new year after the break,” you finished seeing his brown eyes on you. “mr. bellingham?” you whispered jude humming as he interlocked his hands and placed them under his chin. 

you grew more and more intimidated, afraid that you were just blabbering and not actually giving him the new information, or worse he disagreed with what you and the group were working on. you had confrontational issues and this wasn’t helping at all. the familiar race of your pulse, your stomach dropping, what was it that you were more scared of, him, or the idea of failure. 

“i told you to call me jude,” he said, making you almost roll your eyes. “and i thought i told you i wouldn’t because we’re at work,” you defended knowing it wasn't proficient to do so. 

jude squinted his eyes slightly before speaking again, “the new changes sound amazing just remember to be updating the timeline as you do and make your team aware that once this is done there no updating or fixing any longer. we delayed it a week because of the site crash but we can’t delay anymore longer. as for the january campaign send tomas with the contract and i'll sign it for my approval next week when i see a close-to-finished presentation…”

you nodded your head paying attention as you wrote on your sticky notes his reminders. “i will let the team know, thank you for your time,” you flashed a smile, gathering your belongings and wanting to rush out the door, not because you were uncomfortable, but the last time you two were alone he had kissed you and his assistant walked in. you’ve kept your respective distance since then, knowing you wouldn’t be able to control yourself around him. 

“what are your plans for break?” he asked suddenly, you paused your movements afraid to look up or even answer. you were indeed ignoring him, but not on purpose, maybe a slight bit. when it came to being around jude there was this indescribable tension, where no words had to be exchanged, just a single look and you both knew. 

since the shared kiss in this office, all you felt was the taint and taste of his lips. the desperation of wanting him back in your arms, and having nights like those from the past summer. it drove you insane, knowing you spent hours in the same building yet you were so apart from each other. the looks could deceive anyone but not you or him. 

you knew you were being naive and just trying to protect your image and his. though if word got out you had slept with the boss, hell would break loose. you were caught that day in his office, by his assistant, had it been anyone else you don’t know what would’ve happened. you let yourself be careless and free and it almost faced you with consequences. 

there was nothing more you wanted than to at least attempt a relationship with jude. but the partnership was risky business. being in here was already risky with his assistant knowing what happened a few weeks ago. how would people react to you and him? the rumors or just overall overwhelming sense of being judged? you knew yourself, and you couldn’t handle that mentally. 

“so far catch up on some well-deserved sleep, i’m also hosting a friendsmas at my apartment, besides that stay-in, no travel this year,” you smile at him, jude walks over and leans on his desk. “sounds like an ideal break,” jude offered back a smile handing you the folder you had brought, your fingers slightly grazing his. 

“and you? what are your plans?”

you didn’t want to be rude but the curiosity got the best of you and you had to ask. despite being CEO you pictured maybe he would also have some time off. “i have to work, but if i wasn’t i would go back to visit and spend the holidays somewhere hotter then this cold weather,” he said. 

you frowned, “not at least one day off? you need some time for yourself, especially for the holidays,” you almost insisted. you loved and cherished the holidays. the traditions, the lights and trees, the weather, the food, the time off for friends and family. you felt bad for him, he had expressed that summer how he appreciated the days he had off. 

“unfortunately not this year. my parents decided to travel for christmas and new years and my brother got stuck at work as well. the company is also behind on some due dates and i have to be here to make sure everything goes in order,” jude sighed, watching how you shifted your weight from one foot to another. 

from times you spoke with jude he never mentioned his family, hell even his friends, so this was definitely a surprise coming from him. he was always serious and only focused on his company's success. a knock on your door made you jump, your head swiftly turning to see lilly walk in, jude instantly scowled, standing uo straight. 

“i'm so sorry to interrupt but we need her back because the vender came in and were planning the host,” lilly said rapidly out of breath. “don’t worry we were done here?” you asked curiously, jude nodding, “let me know if anything changes, i will be here!” jude dismissed. you let out a breath of relief, lilly gushing “i know he’s our boss but damn that man is so fine.” 

if only she knew… 

the next week flew by quick, and before you knew you were having a christmas lunch to say bye for the break. you all pitched in to bring food and items, some warm cookies and hot chocolate, sandwiches, and fruit layed out. relief and finally some relaxation ran through everyone, knowing after a long couple of months you finally got some well deserved rest. 

the encounter with jude didn’t leave your mind, in fact it kept you up day and night. he wasn’t in the office apparently due to some business outside town, but he sent his regards and thank you for our hard work. you often kept looking back to the empty office, wishing that maybe you could see him one last time before you all went separate ways. 

“what do you mean he was caught kissing someone? when was this?” lilly yelled, unable to control her raging emotions. “the jude bellingham? mr. perfect? he was caught kissing someone in his own office?” clarified julian, tapping his chin thinking, “where did you even hear this?” lilly asked chris. 

“it's could be just a rumor, for all we know it could be false. i overheard one of the 15 assistants he has during the lunch break today,” chris said nonchalantly, but your blood ran cold. it's as if you had seen a ghost or were caught again in his office. the same gut-wrenching feeling at the possibility of them knowing it was you. how could you be so careless?

“do they have an idea of who it could be?” lilly further asked and you were so close to shut her up, the walls closing in on you, and afraid that the sandwich you had eaten would make a reappearance. “they do know, but couldn’t say who because they signed an NDA. my guess its someone from this office or a celebrity. why would you force someone to sign a contract over a silly kiss? it’s weird,” chris continued, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. 

“well, you guys know mr. bellingham, and his private life is completely private, if anything i don’t blame him. the world he’s in, all eyes on you watching your every move, its very eerie. a small slip up like that can cost him many ups and downs, so we shouldn’t even be discussing or else were next on that NDA contract,” julian defended, yet all you could do was stay silent. 

you trail your thoughts to that day, remembering how his assistance almost begged for forgiveness and swore he wouldn't say anything. the fury look on jude’s face but also the concern he had knowing every thought raced your mind. the fact you were new, your first real corporate job, the consequence of already fucking up your career because you let yourself be careless. over a damn kiss. 

your muscles tightened yet your hands shaked, you were angry not only at yourself but also the assistant who lied to his face and yours, knowing you were in jeopardy if people looked into it. you didn’t know how many people he had told during lunch or if had told other people in the past. the nerves and fear at everyone poking fingers at you worrying you. 

“i really want to know who it is! this is gonna keep me up at night because it happened here! right where we work,” lilly groaned sitting down and pushing her glasses up. the five of you looked at the door when someone knocked and walked inside. “hi everyone, i just came by to sign off the rest of my paperwork but i wanted to properly introduce myself, i’m matt!” the same guy who you accidentally bumped into last week walked in. 

“it's very nice to meet you, we hope everything went well and smoothly?” lilly said sarcastically, to which matt nodded, “very smoothly, i expected it to be difficult but they worked with me and what i was looking for.” you rolled your eyes a part inside you was glad he came in so the focus shifted around him rather than the kiss. 

“must be nice, no?” you offered a fake smile, you knew it was wrong but overall he was in the wrong for buying his way in. matt looked at you confused squinting his eyes and walking over to where you all stood by the cookies and sweets table. “what do you mean?” he smiled confidently. it seemed like you somehow manifested it, because before you could respond, jude walked in. 

“sorry i’m late everyone, but we just closed in on the february term. don’t worry,” jude’s smiled dropped at the sight of you standing next to matt. what the hell is he doing here? jude thought but gained focus again, “don’t worry this will all be planned once you come back, just wanted to pop in person to thank you for your incredible hard work and wish you all happy holidays!” 

jude would be lying if he said he hadn’t been rushing. he was called into a meeting on the other side of town to confirm and present details about a case, but all he could think of was you, and not being able to say bye. he knew it was the holiday party today and he wanted to get a last goodbye. he wore his best suit and favorite tie. 

yet that same jealousy feeling returned when he’d seen you with matt, he needed to keep his cool but this guy was already getting onto his guts. 

“thank you mr.bellingham, it’s been a pleasure, please help yourself to some cookies if you please,” lilly offered and he gladly took some. you distanced yourself from matt and pretended to grab your items, giving the message you were headed out. “ju- mr.bellingham, do you think i can speak to you really quick, it's about the project,” you lied, wanting to be alone and explain to him the situation. 

“sure follow me!”

“what’s up?” asked jude, his body language more relaxed as he unlocked his office. you waited till the door shut fully, “they know. they know about what happened,” you deadpanned, jude froze looking up and seeing your wild eyes. “how do they know? what do you mean by that?” jude whispered loudly. 

“chris was telling us how he overheard your assistant talking about it during their lunch break. i don’t want to seem like a tater tale but i’m scared jude… i’m scared about people finding out it was me,” you whimpered your eyes glossy as tears began to brim your eye sight. the anxiety getting to much and having no other option than to break down right here infront of him. 

“ssh it’s okay, listen it’s okay! i’ll take care of it,” jude ushered you, bringing you into his embrace, a quiet sob escaping your lips. “it’s not okay! jude people know what happened here. they know what took place because someone caught us, that person went around after they signed a contract and told people,” you tried to explain with a heavy heart and knot in the back of your throat. 

“i know that baby, i know you’re scared, but you just have to trust me on this one and that i will handle it. i’m giving you my word that nothing will happen to you. i know how hard you’ve worked for to be here, i won’t let this be the end of your career. just trust me,” and just like that his voice soothed you, just as it once did in the almafi coast. 

“just let me handle it.”

“jude we can’t. i know you wanted to try, well we wanted to try but it’s too risky. too risky for you, especially with the deal you signed off on, and too complicated for me. we’re back to square one, and i can’t threaten losing it all over this,” you spoke softly, jude stiffening, clearly not expecting this from you. just when he thought he could have you, you’re pulling away from him. 

“i can sue, you forget who i am.”

“do you not realize where that is going to get us? i am going to have to be present when it's what i’m trying to avoid. he knows who i am, if you threaten to fire him or even get near that idea he’s going to expose it all,” you exclaimed pulling apart from now a hurt jude. he stood quiet, thinking how you had a point but he wasn’t afraid of anyone let alone some assistant who was barely qualified for the job. 

“you should go… have an amazing break,” jude said after a minute in silence, you looked at him confused, still trying to find ways to help each other. 

“jude-”

“y/n just go,” jude stressed, your shoulders fell, feeling defeated and discouraged. how were you supposed to drop it and leave for three weeks and be unaware of anything? just wait like a sitting duck till you came back? you looked at jude who turned his back from you, removing his blazer, knowing he wasn’t going to say anything. you wiped your tears and walked out, not caring to say bye, just wanting to be alone to cry away the dread and sadness. 

your friendsmas was a success, a small get-together to just eat and chat, which ended up being amazing after the sorrowful week you had. you couldn’t sleep, as the conflict taunted you, being reminded that people out there knew what had happened. and you just had to wait. sadness turned to being impatient, impatient turned to anger, and that anger led to frustration. 

you wanted to know what he was doing if he truly was just working like he said. to see how he was solving the issue. you just wanted to be with him. this time alone made you realize maybe he was right, maybe you just had to trust him and see where things went. you couldn't just think of the worse, but the worse was already done. 

“y/n please tell us you're gonna go out! it’s saturday and we traveled all down here to be with you. you can’t stay here,” your best friend pleads for the third time, and you have no reason other to cave in, knowing they would take no for an answer. “now hurry your ass up we leave in an hour.”

a long sleeve black lace top, and a black denim mini skirt with boots, with makeup and hair done, you walked together downtown to where they wanted to go clubbing. it was a while since you last went out, so hearing the loud exhausts and smelling the familiar smoke of weed was like a deja vu. 

you forgot the adrenaline rush it gave you, the cool chills as they checked id’s and paid the fee. they wasted no time rushing to the bar and ordering a round of shots and drinks. you all stood near the bar, dancing sometimes talking as a mix of music played. it was a good vibe and you slowly felt yourself letting loose. the worries escaping as your favorite songs played and danced away with the girls. you didn’t want to drink much, wanting to stay aware of your surroundings in case anything happened, along with being sober enough to drive back to their place. 

“i need some air, wanna come with me?” you asked your friend who nodded, grabbing her drink and her pack of cigarettes for a smoke. “you okay? you were quiet during the dinner and at amy’s house,” she asked, the flame from her lighter lighting the cigarette. “just thinking, you know me. i'm a yapper but also an overthinker,” you giggled.

“someone on your mind?”

“yes actually…” you knew she would keep this confidential and take it down to the grave until you decided to tell the other girls. “i met a man last year, after graduation in the almafi coast. it was the best week i had. i mean like the best. we had sex, lots of sex, we went on small dates, watched the sunset, woke up together and had breakfast, danced, you name it. i can’t help but think, we also had this i don’t know? connection?” you spoke.

“and i am just now knowing of this? y/n!”

“listen to be fair, you guys ditched me so, it's your loss.”

“touche.” 

“never in my life have i met a man like him. he is straight out a book, tall, handsome, charming yet he  has this dominate side that just makes me,” you groaned in desperation, the flashbacks in your head not doing any justice. “i got too attached, and overthought what we had. we lived different lives, he had this quota status while i just had finished school. he was already successful while i just began my path to find future me. so i left…”

“you left? what do you mean you left?”

“while he was out doing a meeting, i managed to sneak out, i left him a letter and i apologized…i was scared, i felt like i wouldn’t ever be enough especially with his lifestyle. i tried to be positive but all i kept picturing was the absolute worst, i let myself leave and i regret that…” you smiled painfully as your friend stared at you with the biggest and widest eyes ever. 

“a letter? a damn letter? y/n you left that man hopeless and with questions unanswered. he probably blamed himself and wondered what he’d done! who even is this man! y/n i’m trying so hard not to smack you right now,” she took a smoke letting out a shaky puff. “that’s the funny thing, i ended up seeing him again, but under different circumstances…”

“meaning?” she said slowly. 

“i can’t and don’t want to say much, but we somehow work in the same place together… and he ranks higher than i’ll ever be…” you frown, thinking back to jude. jude here, jude there, you felt like he was everywhere and you couldn’t find an escape from him. a silent second was shared, your heat beating out your chest and head fuzzy from everything. 

“y/n… you should-”

“guys? come back in, we just ordered another round of shots! c’mon!,” your friend who was inside came out and dragged you back in. you gave your friend a pleading look to not say anything, and she understood right away. 

you felt two eyes stare behind you, and you looked back to ensure your friend was there, but instead those brown eyes that haunted you stared at you with a serious and tension gaze. your friend smiles and took your hand, as you quickly turned back and went to your group, this sense of uneasiness laying on you once again. why the hell was he here?

you downed the shot before they could cheer, not feeling the burn or bitterness from the lime and salt after. you tucked yourself away from his view, dreading being here, and wishing this instant you were cuddled up and watching a k-drama. “oh my god, new plan! let’s go to the jazz bar a few restaurants down from here! live music and drinks!” amy spoke, the group immediately agreeing, the wash of relief spreading through you. 

as soon as the tab was paid, you grabbed each other’s hand and walked out to the exit. luck was on your side as you made out with any complications or slurred walks. “y/n? where’d ya headed?” matt tugged you to the side, his breath reeking from alcohol. “we’re leaving!” you lied quickly and pulled away from him. it was enough seeing jude but matt as well? had you been cursed?

“hold on, hold on, why you leaving so fast? the night is just beginning, join me and my friends!” matt slurred, tucking your hair behind your ear. you pulled away, “no thank you, we’re leaving. have a good night,” you tried to seem nice as possible so you could avoid an altercation but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “c’mon i want to get to know you!”

jude who was back inside had been watching you the minute you locked eyes. was it really possible you were in the same place he was? or was it just a vivid image of you? it was you, dressed so elegantly yet seductive. he had replayed the scene in his office before break over and over. hating how the empty void in his heart wouldn’t dissapear especialy at the thought of you. 

the once loud music was no longer there in his ears, he was just enamoured by you. your hair, your smile, the way you laughed, yet you were being the same naive and stubborn y/n he knew. the same one from italy, from work, and the one now. he just wanted one more look of you. but you were no longer there. jude panicked, ditching the vip booth in a second and waving though the bodies on the dance floor to look for you outside. 

“like i said, we were leaving-”

when the fuck was this man ever going to take a hint? matt pissed him off more and more as days passed. and jude was livid as he couldn’t take a hint and continued bothering you. he knew you were smart but a man like matt was a attachment not even he could get rid of. with his stupid blue eyes and blonde hair, jeans so tight he cringed at the sight. 

“is there a problem here?” jude said angrily, you got a whiff of his cologne, standing still as he approached you closer and closer. “seems like you’re bothering her when she wants to leave… not very gentlemanly like from you, hmm?” jude got between you, bringing you behind him and acted as a shield. 

“jude it’s okay, just drop it, he’s drunk-”

“jude? what the fuck is this? why did you call him jude, when he’s mr. bellingham,” matt chuckled angrily, a hand waving in the air trying to get sense of what was going on. “oh i see, i know what is going on here! you're the bitch who was caught kissing him in his office! makes total sense now,” matt mocked, your blood running cold at the reveal. 

“watch your fucking mouth. you may not be sober but you need to control yourself,” jude spat angrily coming closer to him. “you can pull all the stunts you want in my building but not here where you’re gonna make a fool out yourself, remember it’s easy for me to call off this stupid contract,” jude sneered. “i should’ve known the second you two were alone, the boss and his employee, what a coincidence! no wonder you got the job, you slept with him and now you’re here!” 

you don't see jude’s next move, all you see is matts face twisting with pain as jude punched him straight and square on his jaw, immediately towering over him when matt gained consciousness and threw a punch back. your body froze, watching the scene play out as they man handled each other, before feeling your friends drag you away and ask if you were okay. “who the fuck was that?” your friend asked, looking back as a chill ran down your spine. 

“my boss.” 

it was the afternoon, having slept in till late from the vents that took place, thankful you were alone after having complained. you weren’t in the mood to speak to anyone or yet be interrogated by your friends. all you said that it was your boss and a random guy who was trying to bother you. despite it all, you still wanted to protect and cherish the tiny bits of jude you had. 

you couldn’t contact him, not through email either, left wondering how he was and if the cops got involved. you felt guilty, guilty because of the mess that was created, guilty for leaving him when you most wanted him, and guilty for making yourself suffer like you had. if things had gone differently maybe this would’ve never happened. maybe you should've just walked away and let fate take control. 

this wasn’t a good image for either of you, and despite it hurting, the truth was bound to come out, whether you liked it or not. 

you looked at the clock, a brow raising in confusion when two simple knocks were heard at your door, followed by shuffling. you removed yourself from your blanket and took careful steps to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing a familiar set of curls facing you. 

you panic, running a hand through your hair, and mouth, adjusting your top and batman pj shorts. you silently yelp and get the urge to jump from either excitement or nerves. 

after a quick breather, you unlock the door and open to reveal jude, who stood in a black hoodie and pants, the soft boyfriend look reminding you of his normal side. not the harsh ceo, or business look, just your jude. 

“hi,” you smile, jude walking in when you open the door further. “i-i- was in the area, and i wanted to check in on you to see how you were from last night,” he said simply, as if those words didn’t make your heart jump. “in the area or did you see my file?” you taunt, jude scratching his head knowing he was caught. “both?” he smiled. 

“i’m doing okay, thankfully we got out of there, but i’ve been worried about you. i wasn’t sure if i could communicate with you, but i’ve been worried sick,” you admit, your heart slowly piecing its way together at the sight of him. “i’m fine, believe me i am, just a couple of scratches but i’m okay now that i’m here with you…”

you sigh deeply, jude pursed his lips, “i hate how we said goodbye. i felt like an asshole just pushing you away when all you wanted was reassurance. i hated seeing your smile drop and leaving you taken at back, i’m not proud of that,” jude confessed, stepping closer. “i’m attached to you, yet all we have is this painful distance. i just wanted to simply try y/n, i am not a man full of words but i almost begged, begged for you to stay. after you left me that letter i looked for you for weeks, imagine how i felt when i saw you in my own office?”

you stay silent, letting him know you were listening him pour his heart out. you weren’t going to push him away, you were tired of this miscommunication and back and forth. “you know what the hardest part was, watching you live your life knowing i’m not apart of it. having this idea that we could’ve been something instead were just known strangers who cross each other like nothing. i hate that you can’t be mine, i hate the fact you can’t even look at me in the eyes because you’re scared,” his voice broke. 

“what is it going to take? why can’t we just try?” jude pleaded. “because it wouldn’t be easy! i would hate the idea of seeing each other behind closed doors when all i want is to spend it next to you and not hide it. it isn’t easy when i have everything ahead of myself, everything i’ve worked hard for and you have it all already! I can’t easily say ‘fuck what they have to say’ because it does matter.”

“jude its been equally as hard for me as for you as well. you think i don’t want to try? that i don’t wish and dream were together in the almafi coast even if its for a day? i want to more than everything, i want to try but there’s so much on the line. people know about us already, and matt was just a taste of what would be headed our way if we did…” you cried, hating the feeling of your stomach turning. the idea of jude no longer with you. 

“i want you more than anything y/n, i’ve never wanted something so bad like this in my entire life. i have enough, i want to be enough for you. i want to show you the positive rather the negative that you envison, please just let me. i promise you there’s more than just the bad with me…” 

“jude…” you whine.

“we can work our way through this, i’m giving you my word. my all to you. please just let us try and we can be jude and y/n from that summer together… please baby, just let us try,” his hands reached for your, his thumb running delicatly over your knuckles. you caved in, you knew and felt like the whole world was at risk but you couldn’t care less. you also deserved to be loved, and being loved by jude was special in so many ways. not because of the status or money, but because of the tenderness and cherishment he laid. 

“promise me that no matter what, you won’t leave. i can’t lose it all and you as well jude…” you plead, and a smile of relief spreading across jude’s lips. i give you my word, i’ll even sign a contract for it, whatever it takes as long as i have you…” jude whispered along your lips, “no more contracts, just us,” you say softly.

“do you know how long i’ve wanted this? how much i missed this? how much i missed you?” jude said with a rough and raspy voice. your lips trembled, focusing on his lips kissing down your jaw, his hands running down to your hips to your ass where he gripped it firmly. “you denied me, rejected me, and wanted to pretend like nothing happened, what happened y/n?” he continued. 

“maybe i just finally caved in to what i truly wanted, and what i want is you,” you say breathlessly, his fingers burning your skin as he trailed them against your skin. “you bluffin or are you being serious?” he quoted making you giggle and press your lips against his, feeling as he smiled. “i’m being serious jude.”

he carried you to your bedroom, removing the tanktop you had on, “tell me what you want from me,” his voice low and groggy. you clenched your thighs, a hand running up his chest to pull him into a messy kiss, hearing a slight groan escape from his already plump lips. “i want you, all of you, all of you always and forever,” you say between the kiss, your one hand on his chest now palming him through his black pants.

jude stepped back, admiring you before his fingertips grazed your shoulders as he slowly removed both of your bra straps down, your chest revealing himself, he sucked in a breath, his eyes drawn to you, just you. “so fucking perfect,” his pupils dilated, leaning down to press a wet kiss on your collarbone all the way up to your jaw, a small suckle before catching your lips once again. 

every single nerve in your body is alive and active, awaiting jude’s next move as you helped him remove his hoodie and shirt. his tone and tanned body shinning against the warm light from your night lamp. there’s no space left when he crashes his body with your, lips tangled as he slowly places you onto your sheets. “i want to hear you, can you do that for me?” jude said, his eyes dark and full of lust. 

“anything you ask me,” you nodded, he smirked, jude placed faint and subtle kisses down the valley of your breasts. you shifted around uncontrollably, letting out small pants as he traced his tongue down your naval. he looked up ensuring you wanted this much as him, and when he got that confirmation, he slowly removed your shorts. “cute, took you more for a marvel gal though,” he snicked. “quit it! i didn’t expect you.”

your eyes fluttered closed as he blew cold air against your core, “so wet, just for me,” he kissed your clit softly, a small kiss that drove you to your breaking point and you were just getting started. jude’s tongue separated your folds immediately, drawing out a loud moan, your hand clenching your sheets as he continued his movements down and up. 

you almost lose it when he places the tip of his tongue right on your entrance, bitting your lip as you cry out in pleasure. you forgot how good he was at this. how he knew all your weak points and could drag you to there in just seconds. his heavy breathing and knowing he was enjoying this as much as you were made the thrill even bigger. 

the intrusion of his two fingers and licks against your core are enough to make your hips lift from the bed, “please jude, please,” you moan, your hand resting on the back of his head, so he doesn’t pull back. “can feel you, almost there for me, holy fuck y/n…” jude grunted. he dove back, wanting to feel you cum against his tongue, not getting enough of how sweet you were. 

you sobbed as your orgasm ripped through you, slightly embarrassed at how quick you came but it had been a while since you were with anyone. that last person being jude. he rode you out to the last drip, cleaning you up effortlessly, coming back up to press a small kiss on your neck before slowly undoing his pants and removing his boxers. 

his cock sprang out, hitting his abdomen as pre-cum leaked, you swallowed harshly, jude gently getting between your thighs and holding you by your waist, “you sure you want this?” jude asked, wanting to be a hundred percent sure, “fuck me, jude,” you said with confidence. he slowly entered you, your back arching and pressing against his chest, jude kissed your chin softly, watching your body unravel with his. 

“holy fuck, forgot how tight you were, how tight you are just for me,” he said lowly, pushing back his hips and thrusting into you. “it’s okay baby, just breathe for me,” he ushered, as you squeezed his girth. “doing so well for, always such a good fucking girl for me,” he moved his hips thrusting deeper as you moaned his name. 

jude's eyes squint close, his lips shaking a smile as you rub his cheek in full appreciation. he’s taking this slow, wanting it to special, he kisses you deeply as he began to move and thrust into you, your bed squeaking as you both stiffle out a tiny laugh. “go faster jude,” you whisper in his ear. jude lets out a tiny ‘fuck’ before slamming into you harsher and deeper. 

your moans mix together, eyes shut as you felt your pleasure become closer and closer. his thrusts move in a pace that has you wanting to see stars quickly, his skin burning yours with his touch and slips. “oh my god, shit, shit, shit,” you let out, jude smirking as he moved faster, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt into your bed. 

“you have no idea how fucking amazing you feel,” jude says, pinning you down, his forehead touching yours as you share a feverly kiss. his tongue entering your mouth and tracing yours, pulling back and fully blurred on making you cum. the closeness and messiness of your bodies had you overwhelmed with pleasure, looking away from him as it became to much. “eyes on me, i want to see you, see you when i cum inside you,” jude stated, and you obliged. 

“so fucking close, can feel you squeezing me, i know it baby, just cum for me,” jude praised you, and thrusted faster, making you squeal and clench your legs around him, pinning him down. jude was on the bridge of bursting, the intensity becoming unbearable. “there we go baby, cum, cum for me,” jude said as he felt you reach your climax, your body slightly trembling in shivers of bliss. 

you felt your walls coat with his warm release, his cock twitching as he let out pants of air. He kisses you one last time, enjoying the moment as you let the afterwaves pass. jude pulls out slowly, laying next to you as he brought you to his chest, his hands running down your back and soothing your slick and warm skin. 

“you okay? still here with me?” he spoke still out of breath. “i am? are you?” you draw small shapes on his chest. he grabs your face getnly and makes you face him. his thumb runs down your brows and cheek, “as long as i am with you, i will forever be okay….”

“be mine y/n…”

[kedsandtubesocks]

cosmic love

Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

summary: a missing statue, a handsome ancient roman general, an equally handsome museum visitor - and you caught in the magical (and wonderful) mess of it all

tags & warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS. time travel AU, magic elements, pining & yearning, fluff but with touches of angst, implied age gap (Acacius being older than both reader & Marcus), light use of gendered language, bi!Marcus Acacius & bi!Marcus Pike, brief mention of death & existential questioning, spicy themes, smut (threesome, m!oral, one moment of spitting) M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, no use of y/n

word count: 7.5k

a/n: I’m sorry I blame the gladiator statue pics we got & yeah now here we are lmao, this fic literally wouldn’t be here without @pedgito & @perotovar - i can’t thank you two enough for all the help i love y’all tremendously, also a sweet special tag for @morallyinept ily too… And lastly - thank you for reading, you’re what makes this so special and magical ♡

The statue that arrived with the newly updated Roman exhibition at your museum has gained attention.

As a guide you enjoy seeing all the new faces here to check out the freshly opened installation. The heightened foot traffic has kept you and your co-workers busy, but it’s been a nice welcome.

Your eyes drift to the statue now.

General Marcus Acacius stands slightly weathered yet still commanding in his bronze glory, towering among the room with all the grace a powerful Roman Army commander would be.

You learned he conquered countless territories and countries in the name of the Ancient Roman Empire. Eventually though, he was caught in a conspiracy to overthrow the ruling emperors and died within the eyes of the coliseum, the whisper of a gladiator’s death.

Now you readily explain this all to tour groups like the one you currently guide.

“Oh, he’s cute.” One of the elementary school girls currently giggles to her friend. The other school children gasp around her, teasing her.

“It’s okay. He is pretty handsome, isn’t he?” You reassure her. The girl seems bashful but relieved at your agreement.

It wasn’t just you. A local internet influencer stopped by and even made a video about the statue being her dream guy.

Even as a statue, the General is eye-catching.

The bronze figure captured his likeness bewitchingly detailing the soft curls of his hair, a lovely sharp nose, mountainous strong broad shoulders, and a pensive stare looking out to a distant horizon. He’s a man of unwavering beauty.

You constantly want to smack yourself for being wistful over a piece of art.

“He’s definitely the most attractive statue I’ve seen.” A familiar smooth sweet voice melts into the room’s quiet softness making your heart jump.

Approaching you with a molten smile and eyes twinkling in the low museum lights, Marcus doesn’t seem real at times.

A regular visitor, you first met him when he accidentally crashed one of your tours. Wholesomely thoughtful, but also being a charming yet slightly know it all, he was quick to join in on commentary of the paintings. With his Disney prince-like smile and earnest eager energy, you couldn’t dare shoo him away.

Now you happily seek his company.

“He’s become like a hot new celebrity here.” Joking, you nudge towards the General’s striking figure.

“I can see why.” Marcus whistles low. “Like look at those shoulders.”

You snicker as a bubbling fondness swells in you.

“He unfortunately died a tragic death.” Marcus comments, cloudy and mournful.

“Yeah, I heard. That means this guy is a bad boy.” You nod.

Marcus snickers at your comment then playfully nudges you with his elbow.

Later, all your co-workers beg you to ask him out to coffee.

“He’s totally got the hots for you!” Your favorite co worker often tells you, but you wave her off.

Marcus is just sweet. He’s kind and considerate, engaging to all the workers here. Besides, you don’t want to assume he possibly likes you and maybe ruin the precious friendship you have with him.

However, your favorite coworker shows up a few days later with a solution for your stale love life.

With a cheeky bright grin, she hands you the cutest pink velvet pouch in the break room.

“It’s called a love wish tea.” She declares.

She grabbed a pack of them at the local occult shop after the lovely witch who owned the place swore it worked.

“It calls in your heart’s desires and hey, it worked for me! That’s why I still have a pack left over!” She proudly recommends.

You roll your eyes but appreciate the gift.

Shoving it into your bag, you don’t give it much thought.

Then the cooler cozier weather settles in, the perfect time for museum dates. Strolling along the floors keeping a watch on everyone it’s hard not to notice the intake of couples. Some are intertwined beside each other staring fondly at a painting together, while others happily take photos of the other being silly.

A taste of loneliness fills you, but gently you sweep it away focusing back on work. Especially since tonight you’ll be locking up.

Already craving some extra caffeine, you glare seeing the break room depleted of any sweet salvation.

The small velvet pink bag in your bag immediately comes to mind. And at this point you think, why not. it will at least keep you awake.

Immediately out of the pouch the tea bag releases a soothing smell, a rich floral blending with delicate touches of a fruit scent, possibly pomegranate. You’re now excited just to taste it, love wish or not.

The tea steeps in your tumbler cup allowing a faint rose color to float into your water. Of course the tea is pretty too.

And the taste? Rich, lovely and warm, like a romantic valentine-like themed drink. It doesn’t reward you with a sensation of being in love, but instead you feel at peace.

After a few sips, you return to the floor.

There, Marcus sits on one of the benches in the Roman exhibition.

Curled over a leather sketchbook, he’s every bit the personification of a scholarly beautiful artist straight out of a romance novel. His face glanced up then back down to his sketch. Diligent concentration paints over his gorgeous face.

Cautious, yet eager, you approach.

He’s sketching a portrait of the General. The sharp edges of the charcoal, the smudges meant to mimic shadows, along with capturing the striking slopes of the General’s features - it’s fantastic.

“You’re amazing!”

Your compliment causes him to jolt slightly spooked, and you rapidly apologize. Once he catches sight of you, Marcus sighs with a dreamy relieved sleepy grin.

“Just sketching, nothing too crazy.”

You take a seat besides him on the bench.

“You captured his likeness so well already.” You’re in awe at the sketch.

Marcus laughs a bit nervously. It’s hard trying not to swoon at the light rose blush coloring his cheeks. He’s stunning.

“I bet General Acacius would be flattered.” You grin then glance back to the statue.

Marcus turns to follow your sight.

“Nah, he strikes me as a big relief fan.” Marcus comments thoughtfully.

The bad art joke isn’t lost on you, and you snicker beside him. Among the giggles you catch Marcus staring at you, the softest boyish grin tugging his lips.

The world melts into a splendid focus all on him.

This isn’t good. You can’t be thinking about possibly leaning in to kiss cute visitors while you’re still on the clock.

“Hey… so I’ve been meaning to ask if maybe we could-”

His phone ringing cuts Marcus off causing you to shoot up from the bench. Jumping on the call, Marcus seems apologetic and almost sad as you wave him bye to him.

Closing time approaches. You and your co-workers do one final look around the rooms. Marcus is nowhere to be found.

The Roman exhibition now sits sleepily still.

The dim glow coats the general’s statue, a glistening chopper. Even with the chips and weathering of time, he stands glorious as you stroll closer.

He really must have been something fierce for the empire to immortalize him in such grand fashion.

“You must’ve been a pretty amazing man.” You mutter mainly to yourself, gently touching the base of the elevated display platform he rests upon.

You wish him a good night and head home. You try not to think of stunning statues or cute museum visitors.

Next morning you’re woken up by a call from work, a frantic one.

“The fucking hot ass statue is missing.” Your co-worker hisses.

You don’t believe it till you see it.

But you’re knocked breathless at the sight.

General Marcus Acacius is missing. The once grand presence he added to the room is absent, vanished, as if plucked from the air itself.

It’s almost unnerving to see the once elevated space now hauntingly vacant.

Chaos brews humming all around. Copes scurry around everywhere, and plenty of people stand outside curious to what’s going on. A controlled whirlwind fills your museum. Various officers keep the scene roped off.

The museum decides to close for the rest of the week to let the police handle as much as they can. You adore the museum truly, but there’s one spot you love the most. Right by the break room leading from various different doors is an outdoor courtyard. It’s become a place of solace.

The bubbling dread has you stepping out here one more time. The sky above looms with a cold front approaching and casts a somber shadow over the space even more.

The shrubs rustle off the side among the thick greenery, and you figure it’s a bird.

“It’s you.” Until a new voice speaks to you. Rich, heavily accented and smooth, it startles you.

You wonder if you’re imagining things.

The man is dressed in Roman attire, elaborate white armor adorned with ornate gold pieces. Glorious graying curls frame his ethereal aged face.

How did a cosplayer manage to sneak in?

He stares so directly at you it frightens you a bit.

“You’re the one who’s voice I heard…” he continues to speak. “It was like I was asleep, drifting away. Then you woke me.”

“Sir, how did you manage to get in here?” You ask, trying to stay as calm as you can.

“I do not know. I simply woke and found myself in this strange place.” He explains with a furrowed brow.

You wonder…is this a strange bit the museum is maybe trying to pull off, and they didn’t tell you.

He steps forward now, and instinctively you walk back cautious. The man must take in your reaction because his face, his handsome face that now looks vaguely familiar, frowns. He holds his hands up defensively.

“I mean no harm. I just need to know what happened to me.”

Someone calls out your name, sounds like your boss. “Come on let’s head out.”

The stranger repeats it and how smooth his voice is, your name rolls off his tongue.

“I am General Marcus Acacius, and I am in need of your assistance.”

That makes your brain scratch.

“Wait, what?” You turn to him confused. “What did you say your name was again?”

He repeats it firmer.

Marcus Acacius.

As in… General Marcus Acacius.

There’s no way.

“Oh, so you’re an actor.” You deadpan.

“I…am confused? I’m no performer. I promise you that.” He almost sounds huffy.

You gotta give him credit. The guy stays in character pretty well.

“You shouldn’t be here, actor or not.” You tell him, heading back inside. Of course this man follows you in.

At the sight of the glass door and the movement of it, he pauses stunned, like he can’t process it. You almost want to laugh.

“You’re pretty good, even though you say you’re not an actor.” You tease.

He frowns hard not enjoying that.

“Either tell me what is going on or I will find a man who will.” He snaps loud and your eyes go wide.

His memorizing face scrunches up in frustration. Dark amber eyes are coated in fierce anger.

“I wake up in a strange place filled with artifacts and see people dressed strange. What is going on?” His voice rises confused, panicking.

Either he’s the most amazing actor ever or…

No.

It can’t be.

Too many thoughts swirl in your head like angry bees trying to make your brain explode.

You need a minute. So you grab the mystery man’s arm, practically dragging him to follow you.

“Excuse you? Where are you taking me?” He demands.

“Somewhere safe.” You half lie.

Unfortunately your boss stops you. His worried eyes catch sight of the man in the armor. You’re quick to explain he’s an actor, upset about the missing statue.

“I am not a-”

You shush the strange man harshly. Your boss, hesitant and worried, surveys him.

“He shouldn’t be here.” Your boss says firm.

“Yup, and I was just showing him the way out.” You happily explain.

Thankfully your boss gets called away, and you make your escape.

“Are you abducting me?” He demands harder.

“Look, I’m the only one here who might be able to help you.” You hiss back.

“I am the commanding General of the Roman armies.” His voice blooms stronger when you reach the lobby. “I will find my way around.”

You swallow hard. A small but chaotic idea quickly jumps into your mind, and you decide to put it into action.

So, you hold the exit door open for him. The man nods to you, then strolls out. You follow him.

The towering skyscrapers, the rush of the cars, the stretching concrete roads, it becomes an overwhelming sight while the man whips his face around eyes wide and in shock. His face falls, aghast and disoriented.

That unrealistic conclusion you thought of - you think it might not be so realistic. Because the man turns to you wearing petrified horror, terrified confusion of a man in an unknown world that no actor could truly capture.

Reality smacks into you like a bag of nails.

This man is truly the great General Marcus Acacius.

The missing statue now full man summoned to life.

Someone yells your name.

Your heart drops. Of course Marcus arrives at the worst time. He jogs up to you dressed in what looks like a gym outfit.

“I heard about the statue.” He says worried then his eyes immediately grow cloudy and confused as he catches sight of the strange Roman dressed man.

“Is he… a friend of yours?” Marcus asks hesitantly.

“It’s complicated.” You blurt, panicked.

General Acacius stands still very stunned trying to take this new modern world in. Stumbling, he returns to your side, clutching your arm like you’re the only one who can steady him.

“I…” Acacius begins then stops mid word, still trying to process a reply. Until he catches sight of Marcus.

“You,” The man surveys Marcus with narrowing eyes. “You seem familiar as well.”

This is getting out of hand.

“Okay time to go.” You rapidly try diffusing the situation, moving General Acacius away from Marcus.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Marcus questions, persistently following behind while you head to the parking lot.

You scramble out a lie that the strange man is an old friend you ran into who just came back from a play.

“I told you, I’m no performer.” Acacius insists still. You also discover he’s built like a wall and trying to wrangle him into the car proves to be Herculean.

Swiftly, Marcus firmly snaps out your name. His tone is different, urgent and enforcing. It turns you into a statue yourself.

Comedically, you’re practically halfway shoving Acacius into the car but now stand frozen. He notices the shift in tension quickly.

“Are you frightened of him?” Acacius mutters concern, surprisingly concerned. “Because I can dispose of this man.”

You shake your head no.

Swallowing hard, you finally look Marcus dead in the eyes.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” You admit.

“Try me.” Marcus rebuffs, serious as steel.

So you sigh, what more do you have to lose now?

“General, can you please tell him who you are.” You then allow Acacius to speak for himself.

The ancient Roman clears his throat and announces his full title and name. The younger and modern Marcus’s face twists confused with a hint of concern.

Suddenly his eyes go wide. He catches on fast, figures it out quicker than you did that’s for sure.

This cute casual museum visitor you have a slight crush on is now your accomplice and partner in crime.

At least…now you don't have to deal with an ancient Roman General being brought back to life from stone alone.

— °˖➴ —

Marcus’s apartment is lush and cozy, filled with so many books and records. The warm walls, sleek modern design, make your place feel like a hole in the wall. Having a roommate, you couldn’t just bring home a very confused man out of time. So thankfully Marcus offered his home.

Now you’ve practically been living here with General Acacius trying to figure out what happened.

Acacius takes things rather well, almost in stride. Fitting for a general that explored new territories and had to face the unknown chaos of war.

The fridge fascinates him the most. You had to stop yourself from laughing seeing him open and close the refrigerator door like a child wondering if the food inside would disappear.

Marcus has a vice for candy, specifically sour ones. Seeing General Acacius try one and the disgusted face of twisted torture is a memory you’ve replayed over multiple times.

But unfortunately no one can figure out what brought the statue to life and him here.

“I’m a man. Not a statue.” The roman general clarifies.

“You are now, but we gotta figure out why.” You sigh exhausted while Marcus readies breakfast for everyone.

He’s been an incredible host. It’s been hard not lingering on how domestic and warm he is within his own space.

Especially when there’s also an archaic man looking just as handsome walking around in a tight white t shirt Marcus lent him.

Surrounded by two unbelievably gorgeous men has been a double edged sword, a blessing and curse.

General Acacius reminds you of a mountain, ever powerful, sturdy and unwavering with the change of seasons. Yet there’s still an open vulnerability to him. You’ve seen it in how grateful he’s been and how eagerly he’s tried absorbing all about this new world.

Whereas Marcus reminds you of a river, beautifully flowing, always adaptable. But he surprises you with how direct and firm he’s been, almost protective in keeping you and Acacius safe.

You also don’t miss the way Marcus’s eyes sometimes flicker to sneak a glance at the older General. You can’t blame him.

Acacius fills out modern clothes sinfully. Watching him navigate everything with a certain poised grace is attractive. While Marcus has become endearing and patient, incredibly welcoming to this new hiccup in his life. You haven't felt this comfortable with someone in so long.

Truly a river and mountain now exist in your life, and you want to stay in their atmosphere more and more.

But you can’t get tangled in the budding emotions growing for these men.

You need to figure out how to help Acacius.

“Once I get back to the office, I’m hoping I can try to find something that could maybe help.” Marcus clarifies while grabbing his work bag.

You’ve learned much about him these past few days. Like he enjoys a good run, used to be a swimmer, has a soft spot for strays, surprisingly loves football -

Also that he’s a well known FBI agent.

You realized you never once asked what he did for work, and you’ve known him for months.

“You have feelings for that man.” Acacius announces once it’s you and him alone in the apartment. You almost spit out your drink.

“We’re friends, that’s all.” You huff.

This Marcus doesn’t seem to believe you, and gives you a very modern dry eyed side glare that makes you roll your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way he watches you, the look of a man in love.” Acacius continues.

“Well I see the way he stares at you too, pal.” You reply back before you can even realize what you said.

Your words do their job stunning the general.

“He is too young for an old man like me.” Acacius rapidly fires back.

“You’re not that old.” You clarify. “If anything you’re distinguished, mature.”

“You are too kind, dear lady.” He chuckles.

You ignore how fast warmth spreads through you a dangerous wildfire just hearing him.

Your phone ringing makes poor Acacius jump. Though, it’s progress from the confused shout he used to yell whenever the phones rang.

Your boss explains that unfortunately the museum will have to stay closed the rest of the month for further investigations, and everyone’s information has been sent in to check for any suspicious activities.

It sounded serious.

Dead serious because after that phone call, you get called by the police department to head in for a few questions.

You have nothing to hide, except you did.

Because in theory you technically did and didn’t steal the statue. You just know the cops wouldn’t take your explanation.

The interrogation room you sit in is coated in a bleak serious air making you fidget worried. This is also the first time you left General Acacius alone at the apartment and that worry picks at you.

Then two officers walk in. One an older distinguished woman who gives you a nod then the other… a rather striking man.

Hawkish nose, clean shaven face, kind eyes, he smiles soft at you.

Marcus.

The agent that walked in is Marcus.

You try not to stare, but it’s hard. Dressed in an official suit and tie, the badge he wears, he sits across for you a striking professional handsome agent.

The woman introduces herself as one of the head local detectives of the case and the man accompanying her is from the FBI, specifically the head of the art crimes division.

Marcus wasn’t just an agent but someone that important.

You can’t deny how extra attractive it makes him.

“Agent Marcus Pike.” Polite and sweet he outstretches his arm to shake your hand like you’ve never met him before.

The questions are very basic.

Where were you the last time you saw the statue? Do you remember any recent guest that stopped by that maybe seemed suspicious?

You answer as truthfully and as best as you can, while also hiding the ancient Roman sized man truth away.

“Funny enough,” Agent Pike comments. “It does seem like this statue just seems to have…I don’t know, grown legs and walked out itself.”

You weakly laugh at his joke. You don’t miss the tug of his lips trying not to grin.

You leave the room as if you stepped out of a strange pocket dimension. Then again these past few days have felt strange and disorienting.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the head of some FBI art division?!” You let Marcus have it when you both return back to his apartment.

“Is that dangerous?” Acacius asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” You sigh.

“No…This is good.” Marcus clarifies. He even picked up apology pastries. General Acacius greedily snags a cheese danish and moans in pure delight once he takes a bite.

It’s hard to ignore how incredibly sexy he sounded.

“It means I can keep looking in my records for any previous instances of situations like this, or if there’s any leads on the case I’ll know.” Marcus patiently explains.

That calms you enough.

Days pass, and Acacius grows restless.

He doesn’t sleep well, snapping at you and Marcus often more. He mourns the loss of a world that’s passed, of a wife he lost. The grief comes in waves. You and Marcus try comforting him, but Acacius reminds you of a caged tiger, restless and fanged. You understand. Being cooped up in a strange home in a strange world must be exhausting.

So Marcus and you agree to have a nice weekend out with him.

General Acacius fidgets in the cozy cream knit sweater that stretches over his broad body, but damn does he look incredible. So does Marcus in his scholarly sleek coat.

This trip also works as another opportunity to do more investigating. The nearby bookstore is the first stop. Acacius gasps seeing the stretch of books.

“Pretty impressive, yeah?” Marcus smirks, and you grin agreeing. He decides to take a look at the art history books here for any information he might have missed.

You unfortunately get side tracked with the many books in front of you and slightly wander away from Acacius when one catches your eyes.

But you quickly find your way back to him.

The elder Marcus stands stunned like a ghost among the classical literature holding a thick encyclopedia.

“I knew of what happened to Rome after you and Pike told me. But seeing the grand colosseum like this… it’s a specter of ruins now.” He mutters while taking in the photo of the ancient landmark.

“I am glad. There should be no need for more death matches.” His voice weighs with the heaviness of centuries past.

You agree, happy he shuts the book and returns it back. You’re about to dive into the Ancient Rome section yourself now until he speaks again.

“What if I am not the same man these books speak of?” The older Marcus questions hollowed.

That stuns you.

“What if the man who died many years ago… is not me?” His voice wavers.

Existential dread looms off him a dark storm growing stronger.

Marcus turns the corner smiling bright. But quickly he immediately notices the shift in atmosphere, and his face falls as he mouths asking what’s wrong.

You let General Acacius speak from the heart.

“What if… I am not me? What if I am not the real Marcus Acacius?”

His face is weighted with fear, raw and open making him appear lost and so small for someone powerful as him.

“I believe it’s you.” You reassure him gentle. “I’m sure Marcus does too. Besides… who says you can’t be the same man?”

There are pieces of yourself that you’ve left with people, even some bits of you have gotten snagged in certain places or tied to certain objects. Who says a piece of Marcus Acacius truly resided in the statue and simply woke up. And if that’s the case, then that means he’s as real as ever.

You explain all of this best as you can to Acacius. Those deep steady eyes of his waver transforming into molten earth. Your hand moves down to squeeze his stronger large warm hand.

He squeezes back tight.

“Besides the man that died is still you too. You’re allowed to be both.” Marcus jumps in with the most tender voice

“That does not sound true.” Acacius mutters.

As modern has he’s slowly become, you think it still might be too hard to explain dimensional or reality theory.

“This philosopher I read about once said something along the lines of, if you think, therefore you are.” Marcus clarifies. “You exist here and now. And sometimes that’s all that matters.”

You realize both you and Marcus slowly have huddled around General Acacius. You on one side and Marcus on the other, barricade to support your General as much as you or Marcus can.

Acacius sighs, watery, taking it all in.

Your heart aches for him. It overwhelms you, causing you to gently rest your head against his shoulder and letting your hand rest on his back.

Marcus also moves closer, placing his hand right besides yours, gingerly touching your hand.

Among the books you and these two rest simply in the stillness of the moment. You feel something hook deep in your chest, a feeling you can’t fully express.

After, Marcus treats everyone to his favorite taco truck. It's infectious seeing Acacius’s spirits brighten again. He again moans delicious when he takes his first bite. You don’t miss the awkward cough Marcus makes.

But the tacos are amazing and the cooler weather covers everything in a comforting dreamy cloud.

“I want to explore this world as much as I can.” Acacius declares with resolution and shining gilded hope.

So you start bringing the Roman general out with you more.

The museum is still being investigated, so you take the chance to enjoy the days, especially now with Marcus Acacius by your side. He enjoys your smaller apartment, becomes a fan of cooking shows fast.

Marcus and you discovered he isn’t big on sushi but has a notorious sweet tooth. Acacius embraces everything now with more gusto, a vibrant curiosity about many things, especially food. It’s endearing.

General Acacius also proves to be a lovely companion when you go grocery shopping.

“So many spices.” He says in awe in the aisle.

More people arrive and you try maneuvering your cart through the traffic. General Acacius catches on quick. Staying close to you, he places a comforting hand at your lower back and the other against yours in the cart. Shifting his body against yours, he’s a protective shield until you’re out of the thicket.

It sends the wildest hum of sparks throughout your body that persistently stays. Acacius stays firmly beside the rest of the trip.

For a man out of time, he’s open for conversation. The check out worker seems to blatantly ignore you while she happily and very openly flirts with him.

You don’t say much, ignoring the possessive emerald eyed sense of jealousy threatening to rise. He bids the flirty cashier a good day along with an elegant head nod. You keep quiet heading back to the car.

“That woman, she gave me a strange note with numbers on it.” General Acacius comments cautious, almost worried about what they could be.

You almost trip on the way out.

“Her number, she gave you her phone number.” You explain simply.

Of course you have to elaborate what that means and how it’s a modern way of signaling someone is attracted to you.

“Truly?” His handsome aged face scrunches up confused.

“What can I say? In any year you’re a catch.” You try not to sound wistful.

“I’m an old man not from this time. I have nothing worth for anyone to desire me.” Now he sounds dejected, somber and serious.

“Okay, besides being absolutely one of the most gorgeous men ever, you’re kind. Incredibly loyal and brave. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Earnesty floats off you.

His face drops, your words finally settling within him. The soft streams of grays in his luscious curled hair and rustic beard, the beautiful scars he wears that tell of his victories…

The statue truly was not able to capture the magnetic pull of this man.

Acacius’s eyes flicker across your face. You swear something shimmers in his deep earth eyes. His gaze flickers down for a split moment, as if he’s glancing at your lips.

Then your phone rings with a text, and you sigh.

This precious bubble you’ve been in, this newly woven existence with these two gorgeous men, is one you want to stay in forever. It’s warm, easy, and feels too nice to leave.

But work eventually crashes in.

The museum finally reopens but with the Roman exhibit closed still. The missing art has brought in more foot traffic to the museum. But what surprises you is seeing Marcus at work now while he works. You and him share sweet secret smiles to each other.

Even with work getting busy for you and him, you’ve been texting with Marcus frequently. It’s even been amusing being on the phone with him and Acacius cries out surprised hearing your voice.

Your mind drifts to them again as you daze off a bit at work.

“So, did you ever drink that tea I gave you?” Your favorite coworker asks, interrupting your daydream.

The confusion must be evident on your face.

“Ya know… the sweet love wish tea?” She grins like a pleased cat that’s about to catch a canary.

An abrupt realization barrels right into you, a fierce horned bull almost knocking you out at the knees. You can’t believe a possible magical tea maybe brought a statue to life. But with that statue now a very real ancient Roman man you’ve been harboring - anything is possible now.

“Can you tell me where the shop is that you got it?” You rapidly ask her.

Your next day off you head down there immediately, not even taking either of your Marcus boys.

The sweetest shop owner greets you warm and welcoming. You compliment her lovely silvery lavender hair.

“Oh it’s to hide the grays.” She winks, and you grin.

But the nervousness rises because you don’t even know how to approach the question you have.

“Something seems to be bothering you.” Of course she notices but speaks with a gentle tone.

Your heavy sigh must say it all. Very sweetly she pulls out a stool by the register and settles in waiting to hear your story.

Even with her welcoming smile, the hesitation pulls at you. But you manage to gently explain what happened without revealing the dizzying truth.

“So I drank the love wish tea. And something… someone I never imagined would come into my life did. So now I don’t know if there’s a way I could probably send him back to what, to where, he was.” You tell her.

The shop owner hums in deep thought, crossing her hands over her chest nodding.

“Is it a ghost? Did you call in a spirit? Are you in love with a ghost?” She asks flat out without hesitation, and you almost laugh.

She’s half right in a way.

“I’m thinking…possibly the one thing that came to mind that I would do first is to do an unbinding spell. Whatever is keeping this man here, the separation of that would be what sends him back.” She says jumping off her chair, waving at you to follow her through the shop.

You quickly scurry behind her.

Grabbing a pack of two candles, the ritual she describes is simple enough. Tying a string around the two candles, lighting them until they burn, which in the process would burn the thread, theoretically severing the tie of Acacius to this world.

“And you said it was the love wish tea you drank, yes?”

You nod, and she nods back in understanding.

“What that tea is meant to do is call in your heart’s desires, simply allow the universe to bring whatever magic it seems fit to your life…But it also isn’t doing it forcefully.” She explains.

The tea is known to work because it calls in someone who desires the same thing you do, almost like a little nudge in the matchmaking department, a magic magnet.

“It works because someone else is also receptive. But of course, there is no need to stay with whoever is brought to you.”

Her words sink into a deep corner of your heart. You wonder if that meant Marcus Acacius longed for a better future, and it’s why the tea worked on him.

Thanking her graciously, you take the candles and a few cute stickers she has by the counter.

“I hope everything works out for you, gorgeous.” Her warm smile becomes a comforting hug.

You hope so too.

But the way your stomach twists, a part of you realizes… what if you don’t want Marcus Acacius to leave?

It’s selfish - but you want this trio of you, him and Marcus Pike, to last as long as it possibly can.

Driving to Marcus’s apartment, guilt and selfishness fight each other tooth and nail. You don’t know if this unbinding spell would work, but it would be a start.

With the spare key Marcus gave you, you let yourself in.

There on the couch you catch the quickest glimpse of both men heavily making out with the elder Marcus greedily holding onto Agent Pike’s sharp jaw. You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, but the image knocks you breathless.

The younger and modern Marcus, who halfway was on the elder General’s lap immediately, bolts away as if electrocuted.

On the table, you spot two glasses of wine.

They both stare at you, caught red handed. Immediately though, you scramble out apologies.

“I should have called and-”

Marcus says your name. “It’s.. it’s okay.”

You feel so foolish right now. You didn’t even think that they had a thing, and that you were possibly the third wheel.

“I can leave. I totally understand.” You really do.

“No.” Acacius orders, saying your name, firmly shaking his head as he rises. His eyes rusted steel swords that pin you to where you stand.

“This started because of you.” He adds.

Wait.

Because of you?

“Wait, are you guys drunk?” You even voice your confusion.

Both Marcus men shake their heads no.

“We were just talking about you, about us.” The younger Marcus explains.

“And it took us some time but we both desire each other. And we both desire you.” General Acacius simply interjects, and Marcus coughs stunned.

You wonder if you’re the one who’s been brought to life in another time.

“Honey, please don’t feel pressured if you don’t feel the same.” Marcus, wonderful Marcus Pike, ever understanding and eternally good.

“I’ve liked you for so long. Even tried to ask you out a couple of times, just got a bit of cold feet. It just unfortunately took an ancient Roman to get me to finally say something.” He laughs weakly, boyishly nervous.

He’s liked you all this time.

You don’t say anything, don’t think there’s any words you can say just yet. Simply the emotions overtake you.

You head first to the younger Marcus and kiss him with a fierce tug at his shirt. He happily pulls you into him and sighs into your lips.

A soft but large hand runs up your back, and the sensation makes your body bloom.

“You both are so beautiful.” The older Marcus mutters dripping with adoration.

With a squeeze to Marcus’s shoulder and one final soft kiss, you pull away then melt into the general’s waiting arms. His mustache tickles you as his lips kiss yours, but it’s divine.

Their hands all over you touch every inch they can. You’ve never felt this desired, never been the epicenter of affection and passion like this before. You just as eagerly try grabbing at either man with as much clawed possession as you can.

They’re both yours now after all.

Tumbling into the bedroom it’s like something out of a dream, blissful and deliciously decadent, but so real with how heated your body feels.

Both men start kissing your exposed skin, with one licking at your neck from behind and the other readily nipping at your exposed chest. Your mind melts in bliss.

“Marcus,” you sigh.

You’re rewarded with two beautiful groans, different in tones it becomes a symphony you want to hear forever.

In the blurry of haze, the sticky syrupy desire, you and the younger Marcus follow each other peppering multiple kisses on Acacius’s chest as he falls onto the bed.

You and the modern Marcus work together, conquering the beautiful golden exposed landscape of Marcus Acacius’s chest. You tenderly press your lips against the various scars then happily move to kiss the younger Marcus.

The delicious sighs from General Acacius fill the room, a hypnotic soundtrack.

Soon your lips start traveling further down across his body. Your fellow lover follows your trail, kissing and kicking every inch of Acacius. You and Marcus reach his cock twitching in the loose sweatpants Acacius has grown fond of.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans as he drags the older man’s cock out.

Fuck is right. Thick, girthy and dripping already, you already ache to have him inside in any way.

“Both of you are little fiends.” The elder Marcus croaks breathless. Confidence surges in you as you lick across his length, relishing in the taste of his skin.

Marcus’s tongue also licks with you along your other lover’s cock, even moving across your tongue. The louder groans coming from General Acacius only spur you and Marcus on.

Greedily your eyes flicker up towards the towering force of a warrior. The beautiful older man’s eyes blown black, desired drenched galaxies looking down at you and Marcus like prizes he wants to conquer himself.

It makes you dizzy, completely possessed, and you kiss your way down to one of his thick large heavy balls. You tentatively lick. Acacius initially hisses until his voice melts into the loudest primal groan when you start sucking.

Your sweet Marcus immediately follows your lead, dragging his mouth down as well. You and him simply devour Acacius, licking back and forth across your lover’s balls and each other’s mouths.

Marcus quickly starts stroking your lover’s thick cock. It’s heaven being among these two, allowing yourself to get lost in the golden ecstasy.

When Acacius reaches his release you greedily lick up his cum that spilled against his skin, and he groans. Once you sit up, you reach for Marcus’s cum covered hand and begin to lick and suck his fingers clean. It’s then your sweet Marcus that suddenly grabs your mouth with the same hand, pulling your face towards his.

“Don’t swallow baby, I wanna taste.” He mutters with blazed out eyes.

Hearing that you almost come on the spot.

You sit up and slowly allow your spit and the milky cum into Marcus’s waiting mouth.

“Gods above.” The elder Marcus moans carnal.

The rest of the night consumes you in a wanton haze.

Sweaty, exhausted, but floating on a cloud, you sink into the bed with two men barricading you in their arms.

“I’m surprised you were…open to this.” You say to Acacius who chuckles a bit.

“I have loved others before, some included men. One was even a fellow General who died tragically among the same coliseum walls as I once did.” He explains gently.

You kiss his chest softly in understanding.

As you and these two lie curled into one another on Marcus’s lush bed, it’s like a new door has opened.

You and Marcus eagerly ask your General about his days in ancient Rome and his travels across the old world, about the true story of how he got his scar. Ever the steady man, Acacius answers all questions he can.

In the middle of this warm incredible double Marcus sandwich makes you giddy. But Acacius’s deep comforting lull of a voice, Marcus’s soft hands stroking your skin, create a cocoon drawing you to sleep faster than you realize.

A soft kiss comes to the top of your head.

“Rest. We will be here when you wake.”

Nodding through a yawn, you happily kiss them both goodnight. But just before you fall into the depths of sleep, you catch the two talking.

“What… will happen if I do not return to stone?” Acacius speaks first, so low and cautious you wonder if you’re dreaming already.

“I… I guess the statue will remain incomplete, stolen.” Marcus answers truthful but gentle.

A moment passes.

“What if I do not wish to return to stone?” Acacius clarifies.

You hear Marcus inhale sharp.

“I’ve longed for peaceful days away from the brutality of the frontline. And now… it’s here.”

A thick hope shines through the older Marcus’s voice, slipping past your ribs to piece your heart.

Movement shifts the bed, arms reach across for each other and seem to cage around you more.

“You’ll always have the final say. You get to make that choice. Neither of us would ever want to force you or take that away from you.” Marcus’s molten words are coated in pure understanding.

“I wish to stay here… with you and her.” Confidence, solidified resolution, radiate from the General’s voice.

The bed shifts again, and you hear them exchange the softest kiss.

“We’ll have to make sure to tell her in the morning.” The modern Marcus sighs dreamily. His hands again start rubbing your arm soothing, as if he can sense you’re fighting sleep.

“Of course. We must never forget our lady.” The older Marcus agrees.

His words along with a soft kiss to your forehead become the final push that allows sleep to settle.

— °˖➴ —

“So you’re telling me mister head of the art crimes department will be okay with a statue staying stolen and missing forever?” You smirk amused while Marcus drives down the familiar roads.

“Hey it’s no Vemeer’s Concert, but I’ll live with it.” Marcus playfully smirks and shrugs.

The investigation on General Acacius’s missing statue had run cold. There was no indication of a break in or forced exit. From the surveillance tapes, the video recordings simply shimmer, distorted for one moment, and then the statue is gone. As if it vanished into thin air.

Or is simply currently sitting in the back seat of the car taking in the world and power of a motor vehicle.

“You hear that, General? Our boy said you’re not valuable.” You tease.

“I don’t mind and I can agree.” Acacius replies bored, making you laugh. The green sweater he wears compliments him and brings out the streams of grays in his hair. You and Marcus have loved seeing him embrace modern clothing more than ever.

“That’s not what I meant.” Marcus rolls his eyes.

You snicker even more.

The occult shop arrives, and the candles feel lighter than ever in your bag, especially knowing you’re here to return them.

“Seems like you didn’t need these after all.” Your favorite lavender haired shop owner says with a coy smirk. Her eyes stay locked on your men exploring the aisles.

“A two for one deal? I'm definitely advertising that for the tea.” She adds eagerly, and you hide a laugh behind your hand.

If only you could tell her the full truth.

You return to your boys, enjoying the way Acacius seems to be a bit petrified among all of the occult objects.

“Are you sure this witchcraft is safe?” He asks worried, snd Marcus smooths by rubbing his back.

You grin.

Love, affection, might be the strangest but most beautiful magic after all.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

 One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy. 

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?” 

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players. 

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose. 

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee. 

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words. 

“ Always at your service”  he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday… 

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you? 

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state. 

“Not today” He replied shortly. 

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence. 

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him. 

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount. 

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…” 

 "Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly. 

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

 "But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts. 

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that” 

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it. 

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared? 

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what” 

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic. 

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?” 

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

 It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

 "Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days —  in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

 "Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you. 

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea. 

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you —  maybe they weren't into that anymore?

 Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars. 

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car. 

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids. 

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her —  you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids. 

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

 You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

[tencrushesperday]

Will you go to prom with me?

matt rempe x college!student reader, friends to lovers

warnings : the fluffiest fluff to have ever fluffed for 7.5k words

an : in honor of the rangers playing their game 1 of the 2nd round, i’ve been writing this for the past week and omggggg there must be so many mistakes in it but im so happy with it it’s so cute. idk about the rangers wives and stuff so christine is obviously made up sorryyyy

How did you get so lucky ?

Matthew gave you a ticket for tonight’s game and made you promise to stay after the game to wait for him.

You have gone to see his debut at the stadium series and this was his second game so you would have gone to see him play even if he hadn’t gotten you a ticket.

The two of you met when he was first invited to the Rangers summer camp. You were having a picnic with friends in Central Park on a hot summer evening. Matt was playing football with his friends not far from you and when the ball fell near you he ran up to get it.

The first time he just excused himself then went back to his game. But the second time his friend threw the ball your way intentionally you asked him if they wanted to eat something but you weren’t going to finish all the food you brought by yourselves.

It took all your courage to ask the tall cute guy that question. Especially because he was cute. Your friends had teased you for blushing the first time he came to get his ball and to defend your dignity you had to show them he didn’t affect you that much and you could be chill around tall attractive guys.

That improvised picnic turned into an ice cream date the next afternoon as you bonded over the fact that you were both foreigners in the US. Then that turned into another museum date, and a shopping date when he asked you for help to find his sister a present.

Superficial conversation turned into long conversations deep into the night so naturally.

Yet he had never tried to kiss you. You wanted to think those dates were really dates and that he felt the same way you did. But he never expressed any further interest into you so you settled for his friendship. You knew he would leave after the training camp to go back to Calgary and you would leave too to go back home.

When he came back for the second time for the training camp, you had already left New York. He had texted you that he was in town again and asked if you wanted to go get ice cream with him. You wanted to smash your head against a wall for leaving a week too early and missing him. But he promised that he would try to go to New York before the start of the season so you could catch up together.

After that first catch up in New York, you also went to Hartford for a weekend a few times when you didn’t have too many assignments.

You surprised him once by coming to a practice and staying for his game. Some of your friends teased you that you were head over heels for him and you “really wanted to get that d” in the words of your best friend but you never made any attempt at flirting and neither did he.

However now, he played in New York, for the Rangers and you couldn’t be any prouder of him. He had texted you that he was called up to play for them for the stadium series and you told him that you already got tickets with friends to go see the match. You missed your morning class to get breakfast with him before the game and congratulate him.

So you are now waiting awkwardly by the VIP entrance because he didn’t get you a special pass since he didn’t dare ask for it and you have no idea where the locker room is in this place. You check your phone from time to time to see if Matt has texted you but you just assume that he’s still busy.

At some point, a security guard approaches you and asks what you’re waiting for. You’re about to answer him and you hear a voice answering in your stead.

“For me. She’s waiting for me. But thanks for taking care of her.” He’s always been kinda hot, but that sentence? The messy post game hair? The sweaty look and slightly tired eyes?

You thank the security guard and walk towards Matt with a big smile on your face. “Congrats on your second game and second win champ. Looks like you’re this team’s lucky charm.” You give him a hug when you reach him and he keeps his arm around your shoulder not letting you go.

“Hmm no I think it’s you. You’ve been for every win too.” He winks at you.

“When did you get this cheesy?”, you tease.

“Winning makes me emotional.”

You aww at his honest response and jokingly tickle him. But you love how he’s not afraid to show his emotions in front of you and you cherish that.

“So.. we won… Do you know what that means?”, he asks with an amused look in his eyes.

“Free and good food?”, you inquire hopefully, batting your lashes at him to go overboard with it.

“Better. Free drinks !! I wanted you to come celebrate with us. I got out the looker room as soon as I could to not make you wait and have some time to convince you. The guys are ready to go.”

“It’s a wednesday night.”

“Perfect night to go out the bars are less crowded.”

“Matt I have classes tomorrow.”

He has a resolute look on his face and you know you’ve lost the argument here. “I’ll bring you back to your dorm by midnight.”

You admit defeat by nodding your head yes and he pumps his fist in an overly exaggerated way. Then he puts his arm back around your shoulder and drags you towards the exit.

“Schneider knows a nice place not far from here apparently.”, he informs you.

“You’re new best bud?”

“I would never dream of replacing you”, he says with a funny smirk.

When you walk out of the building you’re met with huge, impressive hockey players and their beautiful significant others. You smile politely and wave your hand when Matt introduces you but nobody pays you too much attention as everybody is eager to get to drinking.

The bar you get to is nice, not too big but still pretty loud and the players overjoyed from their win only make it louder.

You sit squeezed in between Matt and one of the girlfriends. She doesn’t particularly pay you attention except when she asked you who you are and how you met Matt.

When Matt leaves to get you a drink at the bar, Chytil’s girlfriend approaches you and introduces herself.

“So have you and Matt been together for a long time ?” Luckily, the lighting is bad and she can’t see you blush at her question.

“We’re just really good friends”, you answer her after a beat.

“Oh sorry, my bad.. It’s just that usually guys don’t bring such beautiful friends to bars when they try to find other girls to hook up with”, she explains jokingly and you try not to get such thoughts into your head.

“First of all it’s so nice of you to call me pretty. And no honestly i’m really supportive of him trying to hook up with girls if he wants to. He just promised to get me back to my dorm before midnight so he’ll probably have to do that afterwards.” She laughs at your words a bit too much and you laugh awkwardly as well, confused look on your face. Until she looks behind you and you understand.

“Always knew I could count on you to be my wingwoman” You turn around at Matt’s voice, the awkward smile still on your face. “And here’s your cosmopolitan.”

“I'm not even sure you need a wingwoman now that you’re in the NHL.”

“That’s not something we are going to test tonight because i’m here to celebrate with you and not some random girl.” He grins at you.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing and drinking your cocktails with Matt acting as the best body guard to ever exist on the dance floor. It’s not often that you don’t have any weirdo trying to approach you but having a 6’7 guy built like a refrigerator definitely helps so you can enjoy the music and just dance. Maybe you should go to the club with him more often.

You don’t leave before midnight as promised. It’s closer to 1am when you bid goodbye to Chytil’s girlfriend. She asks you if she will see you around more and you promise her to attend the next game.

When you’re outside the uber is already waiting for you and you get in with Matt still talking and laughing.

He then walks you up to your door and you turn around before opening. “So now you know where I leave”

“Yes this was my plan all along now I know where to come to steal the most comfortable blankets”, he says with a smirk

“I knew you were evil. You can’t be tall, hot and ambitious without something hiding under the surface.” Did you just call him hot ? You can blame it on the alcohol even if it was only 3 cocktails.

“Obviously. Now go get some good sleep and drink a glass of water.” He turns around to leave “Good night”

You yell after him “Drink some water too big boy” you giggle to yourself and cover your mouth aware of how loud you just were.

The next morning you have a mild migraine but it hits you when you are brushing your teeth a song from last night playing on your phone.

The reason no guy approached you last night was because Matt always had his hand on you, your hand, your hip, your waist. It was just so natural to have him that close you didn’t even notice in the moment.

——

Almost a week later, as you sit on your bed, music playing on your speaker because your roommate is out, you hear a loud repeated bang on your door.

You jump out of bed, turn off the music and run to the door. “Who’s there?”, you ask warily.

“Open up the door you deaf dumbass”

“Great to see you too my sugar plum”, you stick your tongue out to Matt when opening the door.

He walks right past you into your dorm room and sets a bag on your desk. “I brought us snacks and video games.”

“You know I don’t have anything to play video games on right?”, you look at him eyebrows raised, hands on your hips.

“That's why I brought my Xbox in my backpack?” He starts unpacking his stuff and setting up his gaming corner. Luckily you had a small TV you and your roommate chipped in together to buy.

“Make yourself at home I guess… I also hope you’re aware I won’t be playing with you I have to finish this essay for tomorrow morning.”

“I know. You said that you had to finish it tonight. I just thought it would be more fun to have company. And I haven’t seen you because of the roadie.” You smile at his logic. It’s non arguable. You would rather do anything and everything with him around than without him. And you missed him too.

Once he’s done setting it up, he sits at the end of your bed and looks at you expectantly. “I won’t be noisy I promise. Now can you bring the snacks?”

You smile like an idiot again, hand him the snacks and get back to your previous position in your bed.

He takes your feet on his lap and starts his game. Without even looking your way, he pushes the bag of your favorite candies towards you.

You sight contemptuously, a small smile adorning your face. This was so comfortable. A little too cozy for you to just see him as a friend.

Around 1am, you finish your assignment and Matt is already asleep at the feet of your bed. You lightly tap his shoulder and tell him to get under the covers because it’s too late for him to go home.

Still sleepy, he takes off his hoodie and gets comfortable while you go to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Then you get back to bed and try falling asleep but you are far too aware of his tall presence right next to you.

He is fast asleep when he sneaks one of his arms around you. Your bed isn’t large enough for you not to touch anyway so you decide to enjoy his warm, comforting cuddles and fall asleep much faster now that you’re not stressing over it.

When you wake up for your class in the morning, Matthew has already left for practice.

——

The game against the Devils has been brutal. You couldn’t attend but you were watching on your phone while at the library. You try to get done as much as you can before leaving the library and going to your closest 24/7 store.

You are ready to go around the whole city. You have a mission in mind and you will accomplish it : finding a Lego set (and food of course).

Luckily you only have to try two convenience stores before finding a good enough set. You also grab some snacks and head to Matt’s apartment.

You are already waiting in the lobby of his apartment building when he comes in.

He looks nasty and you can’t help but cringe.

He drops his bag on the floor when he’s near and wraps his arms around you. For a while, you just remain like that, hugging, passing your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“You wanna go up? I got us lego sets to build”, you ask in a small voice. He nods and pulls away without meeting your gaze.

You haven’t seen him since his huge fight in Toronto so the black eye is shocking at first. And now he’s been suspended for four games. You know that even if he likes causing chaos, he likes the game more.

You silently follow him up to his apartment. It’s a small studio, nothing crazy but it’s cozy and it’s clean.

You set your bags near the couch and go to the kitchen to look for something to cook dinner with. In the meantime, Matt gets another cold shower and changes into a pair of sweats.

When he comes out of his room, wet hair falling across his eyes, his t-shirt half up, your breath catches in your throat. Your gaze moves downwards and then you catch a glimpse of the bruises on his side as he finishes putting his shirt on.

“I left clothes for you on my bed if you wanna change into something more comfortable. I looked for the smallest sweatpants but hoodie might be just enough.”

He walks up to you and smells around, “What you’re cooking there?”

“Mac and cheese. Didn’t have too much choice” A pleasant smile appears on his face. “I can finish it, go get comfortable.”

He nudges you lightly so you let him take over and go to take a shower and change.

You had stayed at his place in Hartford the last two times you went up there. But this was different. You had always brought your own clothes and you would eat out with his friends before coming and crashing on his couch before leaving the next morning.

Now you are changing into his clothes, and as he said the hoodie almost reaches your knee so you don’t bother with trying on the pants. It smells of him and you try not to be weird about it but it brings you such a sense of comfort you can’t help but wrap your arms around yourself.

When you walk back into the open kitchen Matt is done with the Mac n cheese and getting the table ready.

“You can sit down. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

You listen to him and sit down and a few moments later so does he. You eat in silence until he asks you about your day.

You don’t want to press him about anything or upset him so you just go with his flow, letting him welcome you in when he’s ready.

When you’re done eating, it’s your turn to tell him to go get comfortable on the couch while you clean up the kitchen. Once you’re done you join him on the couch where he already started taking the legos out of their boxes.

You talk about your childhoods and how you used to play with legos and other toys, about your favorites and the ones you lost but just remembered how much you liked them.

When you finished the set, he put it on the shelf next to his TV and you both went to bed.

You insisted on sleeping on the couch to not bother him but he argued that he would.

Of course you wouldn’t let him, knowing the physical state he was in. So you agreed to both sleep in the bed.

Once you’re under the covers and the lights are off you can’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth as you turn towards him, “Does it hurt a lot?”

He turns around to face you too, “Where?”

It breaks your heart to hear him say this. Are there really so many hurtful part?

You slowly bring your hand to his abdomen under the covers. “Here?”

“I didn’t think you would see it”, he shuddered at your touch so you pull your hand back.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.” your voices are no louder than a whisper.

“Can I hug you?”, there’s timidity in your voice that he has never heard before.

“Please”

You wrap your arms around him and press his head under your chin. You fall asleep in that position only a few minutes later.

——

Now, you are waiting for him by the north entrance after his game against Florida as he had asked you but you have no idea what to expect nor where he is taking you. It didn’t really matter anyway as you get to spend time with him.

He walks out the building wearing his suit, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Congrats ! You played until the end” You laugh at him throwing your arms around his torso. God how you loved his hugs. It feels like being engulfed in the warmest cloud.

“And I got an assist”, he says pulling back from the hug and grinning at you.

Your smile widens as well as you crank your neck to look up at him “You did great champ!”

You pull away from his arms feeling yourself getting hungrier by the second. “Come one now take me to eat. You know cheering on you is such a physical activity.”

You catch sight of his crooked tie once you are completely out of his arms and reach to straighten it. “I changed as fast as I could so you wouldn’t have to wait long.” He explains looking down at you.

You can’t look up to meet his gaze, too busy trying to hide your blush.

When you’re done, you ask him to lead the way and he points to the left and tells you to follow him because “he knows a place”.

You walk for a few blocks until you’re in Times Square and then he stops.

“Matt don’t tell me you wanna play tourist right now. I swear I’m not kidding when I say I’m famished.” You look up at him with a pout.

He checks his watch, “Can you keep the whining down, I’m the one who’s paying for dinner, please?” He looks around at the billboard like he’s never seen them before.

“I’m hungry, come on let’s go I’ll pay for my meal if it’s what it takes.” You try to argue.

He stops turning around and you get in front of him to try and get his attention back on you. He checks his watch again. What is he waiting for?

“Matt the hell are you looking around for ? This is not your first time in Time Square. I hope the place you wanted to take me doesn’t close too soon…”

He looks behind you and his eyes light up. “This is where I wanted to take you.” He says grinning like a devil.

You want to ask what’s going on, mouth half open but he tells you to turn around so you do.

Mouth still hanging agape, the first thing your eyes lay on is a huge billboard with your name on it. And the question “Will you go to prom with me?”. You heart skips a beat there.

You’re speechless for a second and very confused when you turn back around to look at Matt. “What is this? What prom, Matt? Colleges don’t do proms and I’m in my senior year. What do you…”

He cuts you off seeing the frown on your face “You told me once that you never got to go to prom during high school. And I know how much you love those fancy dresses and dancing to 2000 music. I didn’t want you to feel sad again because you feel like you missed out on something.”

Oh you are so about to cry.

Tears are brimming your lashes already. Your stomach is doing somersaults.

“So will you go to prom with me? The one I organized just for us so you can’t really say no…” You hear the small quiver in his voice and how he slows down at the end. He is feeling unsure. It’s the sweetest thing ever.

The tears staining your face are happy ones so you nod your head vigorously, unable to speak because of the knot in your throat. A smile cracks its way onto your face and at the sight of it he leans down to hug you. You jump into his arms and wraps yours around his neck.

“I can’t believe you did this for me” You’re now sobbing into his shoulder, pushing your face into the crook of his neck to hide your tear stained, all red, face, from the crowd around you.

It feels like it’s just the two of you in the world. You don’t hear the crowd over your own beating heart anymore.

How did you get so lucky?

You want to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. Yet it’s not the time to confess your feelings. You can’t ruin this moment with your selfish emotions when he’s done this for you as a friend. So you settle for thank yous.

“You’re the best, really.” You squeeze harder before trying to pull away but he still has you in his arms and your feet don’t even touch the ground.

Your faces are inches away, and you feel an itch you can’t quite scratch, because he’s not your boyfriend and kissing him could ruin all this.

“Thank you. Genuinely. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but you’re really the best Matt” You think he can probably feel your breath on his face. You hope he can’t hear your pulse this close. You hope you don’t smell of the beer you drank earlier at the game.

Oh no, you realise as he puts you down, your breath probably smells of the beer.

He shots the toothiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Good let’s go get you some food now.”

May the universe help your poor little heart, as you melt internally at his smile, words and actions.

——

You knew Matthew was a man of his word and if he said he would do it he will. But what you didn’t expect was for him to go so overboard with it.

A few days after his promposal, he texts you that after class you’re both going shopping the next day. He had called you after the game when they clinched the first spot and said that your fake prom would be before the playoffs.

He waits for you in front of your building, baseball cap sitting backwards on his head, two coffees in his hand.

Your heart skips a beat when you first catch sight of him, easy to notice him with such a height. You think you would recognise him even in the dark anyway, when everything in your body pulls you to him in the way it has done since you’ve met him.

He’s right here and so close and yet so out of reach because you can’t run up to him and kiss him like you would like to.

It has gotten harder to ignore your feelings since he started acting like the best boyfriend in the world while simultaneously not being your boyfriend.

You walk slowly to give yourself time to recompose yourself. He smiles broadly when he sees you too.

He doesn’t know how much he affects so you can’t blame him. He’s just being friendly, like he always was.

When you reach him, he hands you your cup of coffee then pulls you into his chest and your giggle gets muffled by his warm sweater.

He asks you about your day, your classes, why you’ve been up since he went away. He listens to your every word even though you’ve already told him all of this through texts.

You walk the streets of New York together until he stops in front of a dress shop.

“No, no, no Matt, I cant afford this.” You stop him before he walks inside, hand on his arm. “And ai’m not letting you pay for my dress. Just putting this out there hopefully before the thought even crosses your mind”

He takes your hand off his arms and wraps it with his. “Let’s just see what they have.”

He tugs you inside and you don’t have any other choice but to follow.

The shopping assistant greets you and after giving you a few minutes to look around she starts asking question about what you want, the type of event, the color preferences, the length.

Sure you had imagined the type of dress you would have worn if you ever got invited to prom when you were a teenager. But you were never invited by anyone and as you were starting to think about going alone your mom got very sick and you had to stay home while your dad went to work.

But asked this way on the spot you have no idea. You say blue for the colour. It’s you favourite one and Matt has a nice blue suit that could match.

The sales assistant picked out some dresses for you while you and Matt looked around. He made you promise to not look at the price until you’ve tried on all the dresses that you liked but you knew you wouldn’t be getting anything from here.

After going around the whole store, the sales assistant directed you to the back to try on the dresses. Struggling to tie up the dress, you peak your head outside the door to ask her for help but only see Matthew.

“She went to get you heels. Do you need help?” You nod, open the door wider as he gets closer and slowly turn around making sure the dress stays in place.

He gets on it with expert hands pulling the laces tight. “Tighter?” His voice is low, near your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You nod not trusting your voice just yet. You feel hot all over but you also shiver.

“Sorry my fingers are cold…”

He is almost done now so you want to break the awkward silence.

“You’re good at it.” Great remark, way to go.

“Yeah I helped my sister a few times.”

Did he just compare you to his sister? Amazing.

With perfect timing your sales assistant comes back with a pair of beautiful black heels. “Sorry for making you wait. Your boyfriend told me you shoe size but I had to find something that would match.”

So much for helping with the awkwardness…

“He um… we’re not um…” You tried articulating your thoughts pointing between you and Matt.

Instead of helping you, he looks at you with an amused look on his face then thanks the woman while taking the shoes from her.

“You can hold onto my shoulder.” He says kneeling down and setting the shoes on the ground in front of you. You lift your dress with one hand, grab his shoulder with the other one as he so kindly suggested, and then extend your foot to put the shoe on. He even helps you get the shoe on.

You were trying not to overthink his every move but it was impossible. Why is he acting this way all of a sudden ? Why didn’t he tell the sales assistant that you were just friends ? Why ..?

Your thoughts are cut off when Matthew stands up and you lose your balance and almost fall.

He extends an arm to catch but you stop him with your hand and a chuckle.

He steps back and he and the sales assistant both look at you. You start feeling flustered so you turn around to look for a mirror.

As you walk over to it, you can feel Matt’s gaze on your black, and the ghosts of his fingertips on your skin.

The dress looks beautiful but something is not right. It’s a bit too over the top and you just don’t feel it. Matthew sees it in your eyes when you look at him through the mirror.

You change into the second dress but you don’t like how it looks around your chest so you don’t even get out of the dressing room.

The third one was beautiful. The flowy fabric, the sea green color of the dress, the thin straps and square neckline accentuating all the right places. You look down at yourself one last time and take a peak at the price tag before walking out of the dressing room to show it to Matt. It breaks your heart to act like it’s not the most beautiful dress you have ever worn. But you can’t afford it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Matthew looking at you this way. His mouth is slightly agape which gives you an insane boost of confidence.

“Yeah I’m not gonna take this one. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You tease him which makes him slightly blush. Oh this is getting funny.

“Should I do a spin ? Let me do a spin”

Maybe you could not eat for the next month or two ? Because if it triggers this type of reaction from Matt you would wear it everyday.

When you look at him again, he stares at you and gulps.

“You look.. you look like a washed up algue on the Jersey shore” He deadpans. A smirk threatens to crack his serious appearance.

You explode in laughter, “You sure know how to talk to a woman. But that settles it I’m not buying it.” You turn around to go back into the dressing room without seeing his disappointed look or leaving him the time to argue with you.

You try on the rest of the dresses but none of them are what you are looking for so you bid goodbye to the sales assistants and exit the store.

“This was very cute of you Matt but I promise I’ll find the perfect dress in a thrift shop without having to starve for the next month.” You assured him.

“Yeah sure sorry…” How dare he be this cute??

“I know that we went to this type of store with my sister for her proms and she loved it.” He argues

You smile at him, “So you wanted my experience to be as authentic as it gets.”

“Exactly” he gives you that cheeky childish grin. He’s proud of himself and he can be.

You shake your head at him and urge him in the direction of your favorite coffee shop.

“It’s too late for coffee I think”, he remarks which makes you look at the time on your phone.

“Wow I didn’t think we wasted that much time in the store” you were surprised, but then again time moves so fast when you were having fun with Matt.

“Hey come on it wasn’t a waste of time you got to try on beautiful dresses” he argued again, heading back in the direction of your dorm.

“You’re right but not walking faster to get to Phil’s surely is a waste of time” You saying grinning.

“When it comes to getting food it always sounds like you’re the 6’7 hockey players who needs to eat a lot of calories” He’s already caught up to you so you can punch his arm at the teasing.

“Yeah well where would I get the energy to annoy you if I didn’t eat this much?”, you give him the same sassy energy back.

The banter and the laughter doesn’t stop and suddenly he’s already walking you back to your dorm and hugging you goodbye.

Once you are in your pyjamas you get your laptop out and get to work on your assignment.

To your dismay, pretty boys don’t make uni work disappear…

——

You were looking at your eyeshadow palette, indecisive. Maybe you should just do a simple eyeliner ? You wanted to do your best, look your best, impress Matt after everything he’s done for you.

You were lucky to find a dress similar to the sea green one you had found in the store but just a tad lighter in colour. You put on your highest heels so the pictures with Matthew looked better. He promised to make it look as authentic as possible so he got one of the older guys on the team to let him borrow the apartment. Pictures by the fireplace are a must according to him.

So you gathered all the belongings you needed after your only class this morning and came to the address he had sent you. You called the number he had sent along when you were in front of the building and a nice woman who introduced herself as Christine told you what apartment to go to.

You were sort of starstruck when she first opened the door and wondered how these hockey players really bagged all these 10s. She wasn’t amongst the girls and women you had met both times you have gone with Matt to the bar to celebrate after a game and you understood why when you heard two kids arguing in the background.

She had quickly let you in and apologized for the noise they were making while taking you to the room where you could get ready. You had thanked her a million times over for welcoming you this way but she told you that they couldn’t say no when Matthew had explained his plan so sweetly. She had commented about how lucky you were to have him with a wink and you nodded, cheeks flustered.

Now you are almost done. You had begun with your hair, finally decided to just do a soft look on your eyes with some glitter and put on your dress.

You are putting on your pink gloss, looking at yourself in the mirror. You promise yourself that this is the night you will tell Matt how you feel, when you hear a knock on the door.

“Honey, are you ready? Matthew is here.” Christine calls out to you.

“I will be out in a minute.”, you answer as you put on your perfume finally.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and shake your arms in a manner to get the anxiety out of your body. You walk to the living room slowly to not scrap the parquet with your heels, looking down at your feet, dress in hand.

When you get there, you raise your head to find Matt already looking at you. He looks stunning in his suits, you already knew that. But there something that made him look particularly handsome. Probably knowing that he dressed up for you.

A smile creeps its way in your face as he stares at you in awe. You pat yourself on the back internally for doing a good job on the hair and makeup.

“You look um… you look beautiful.”, he finally manages to get out.

You giggle and thank him. He really makes you feel like a high schooler, you think.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” You smile.

“You see me in a suit every other day”, he’s being modest.

“But you have something particular about yourself today”

Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of him. Complementing him so effortlessly. He made more of an effort today it’s true. He wanted to look half as good as you at least. He also made a point of not fighting in his last games so he doesn’t have a bruised face on these pictures.

“Oh I got something for you.” He reaches out behind him on the fireplace and grabs a box. You walk closer, curious to see what it is and your eyes lay in a beautiful corsage for your wrist and a matching flower for his pocket.

You give him your hand and look at him while puts it on “It’s beautiful thank you.”

“Okay kids, let's take some cute pictures,” Christine says, clapping her hands, even though she already took ten pictures of you interacting.

“I see you’re fully playing your role” you laugh at her antics.

“Just rehearsing for the future”, she retorts with the same cocky smile you gave her. “Okay now get in front of the fireplace. Matt stands behind her.” She was giving instructions like a pro and you assumed she’s already done this for her own prom.

Just like she said, Matt walks up behind you and sneaks his arms around your waist. Instinctively, he spreads his fingers but his hands awkwardly cover your whole tummy so he holds your hips.

You try to relax for the picture but you’re overly aware of every inch of his body touching yours.

“Come on guys, give me your best smiles now!” Christine encourages you.

You try to focus on the pictures, the camera, your hair, your smile. You rearrange your dress to be sure it is okay.

Once she says she has a few good ones, you change your pose and you get used to it. You look at a few before takes and they do look beautiful.

Once you’re done, Matt thanks Christine and you both head out to the restaurant he had made a reservation for.

The taxi ride is not too long since you were already in a nice part of the city. The restaurant looks way too over priced and you feel bad for how much money he’s spending on you.

Once you’re sitting at your table, you can help but tease him, “I’m amazed you even managed to make such a reservation.”

“Schneider helped”, he admits.

“So this evening really is a team effort. If I wasn’t enjoy it so much, I would probably feel bad for bothering everybody”, you say half jokingly.

The whole dinner is amazing and delicious. You don’t think you’ve ever eaten in a place this fancy and frankly both of you probably look out of place.

More than once you laugh a little too loud and swear a little too often which earns you some pointed glances from the old rich people around you. That only makes you laugh even more.

By the time you’re out of them, you feel the slight buzz of the overpriced wine and can’t wait to see what Matt has planned next.

The next taxi ride takes you back to his apartment and you’re sad you didn’t get to dance. You think you might still convince Matt to put on some music to dance in the kitchen too.

You think of your arguments all the way up and when he makes you wait in the hallway. But you don’t need any once he opens the door and lets you see what he prepared inside.

There was glitter everywhere, colorful light effects and you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of a photo zone next to the bathroom door.

“I know we don’t have a prom party with all the people dancing around us and our friends but I hoped this would make do.”, he says looking at you from behind, studying your every emotion.

You turn to him, your brightest smile on your face “This is perfect Matt.” You grab his hand and drag him inside.

“Let’s take a picture first. We can set the timer and flash on my phone.” You set your phone in the place he prepared for it and push on the timer. You take your dutiful place in front of him in front of the photo zone and there’s no awkwardness as earlier.

Then you go back to the leaving room to put some music on, he goes to the kitchen and comes out with punch.

“Don’t we face the chaperones too? For the more authentic experience…”

“You plan on doing such naughty things you need a chaperone?” Oh, you weren’t expecting him to clap back this way.

“I don’t have enough alcohol in the system, bring that punch over here”, cowardly move but you didn’t lie. You need more liquid courage to tell him everything you think.

You take the drink from his hand when he extends it to you and down half of it.

You cradle the rest of your hand while Give me everything tonight plays in the background but it doesn’t take long for you to finish that too.

You dance to your favorite songs until a slow by Def Leppard comes on. “Wouldn’t be a full prom experience if we didn’t slow dance”, Matt defends his choice of putting it in the playlist.

“You’re right. Let’s dance”c you nod getting closer to him. Your fingers are intertwined behind his neck and his hands settle in your lower back.

With each sway to the rhythm, your bodies get closer.

You look amazing. He used beautiful earlier but that hadn’t been enough to describe how truly gorgeous you look. He wants to use every word he knows, compare you to stars and flowers and yet it still feels like it wouldn’t be enough. You are giving him your brightest smile and he feels proud at the thought that he is the one who put it on your face. He made you happy. He wants to make you happy everyday in the future.

You are so close to him. Right in front of him. He thinks he should gather his courage and tell you he likes you. He can feel the warmth radiating from your skin through your thin dress, your fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck.

He thinks about all the times you’ve made him happy. The first time you ever talked to him and offered snacks to him and his friends who were just strangers in the park. The time when you first surprised him by coming to Hartford to see him play. He wasn’t seeing you in that light at the time. However recently, when you came to comfort him after he had been suspended for four games. He had wanted to kiss you then right in his lobby when he saw you. But he couldn’t use you like that to drown his sorrows. And what were the chances that you wouldn’t push him away and leave him all alone?

He always thought you were hot, even Schneider and Lafrenière commented on it when he had brought you to the bar with them to celebrate. He had told them to back off right then and there, to not even think about it. He thought it was due to friendly protectiveness. He later realised that he hated the thought of anyone else putting their hands on you and make you happy in that way.

“Why didn’t you ever kiss me?”, you interrupt his train of thought. He is completely caught out. Did he hear you right? He takes another few seconds to process but he can see the concern taking over your features.

“I could do that? I didn’t know I could?” he looks dumbfounded which makes you laugh. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Do you want to?”

“Stupid question. Can I kiss you?”, his breath is ragged.

“Stupid question.” you giggle, “Lose some more time asking others like this o-“.

He doesn’t let you finish before crashing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. It’s passionate but sweet and oh so soft at the same time.

It’s so much better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. Sparks fly. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shivers run down your spine. You have wanted this for so long, was tempted to do it a million times and it is finally happening.

You need more. You wish he would never stop kissing you.

When he pulls away for air, slightly panting and lips and the skin around them sparkly from your gloss, you can’t help the chuckle.

“It tastes like cherry”, he says through a small laugh of his own.

“Oh yeah? wanna taste it some more?”

[emotionoitme]

safe in your skin

part two of about a girl

carmy berzatto x reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: friends with benefits, bdsm dom/sub undertones, age gap, alcohol & tobacco use, lots of dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex (use condoms!!), choking, mutual pining

wc: 7.5k

a/n: thank you so much for the support on the last chapter! i was literally kicking my legs twirling my hair reading through the replies. please enjoy some more nastiness!! and lots of yearning ofc <3

title fight - safe in your skin

job hunting was a grueling task, no matter how lucky you get— the girl could feel this physically, shoulders slumped and feet aching. she had dropped off applications at 4 different places that day, eager to start a new job as soon as possible. what she didn’t expect was places seemingly desperate for help saying they’d up to a week to get back to her. she dejectedly checked the time on her phone, strolling down the relatively empty sidewalk. it was a little after 3, meaning she’d have time to check out a few more options before heading home. she wasn’t necessarily enthusiastic about the task, either, searching up bars in her vicinity to take an application to. she finds a smaller looking club on google maps 2 miles away and pulls up walking directions. she was looking for a change of pace, but a club was familiar and she catches a second wind as her steps slow in pace, smelling a delicious aroma heavy in the sunny afternoon air. she raises her head from the phone, looking around to locate the source of the smell. she continues forward, looking in the window of a small business. a makeshift sign taped on the glass reads, “the bear”, name underlined, and “help wanted”. she puts her phone back into her pocket, no longer curious about the club she had found. she opens the front door, entering the small establishment and letting her senses be overtaken by the mouth watering scent emanating from the kitchen. the push of the door rings a small bell, and after being inside alone for a few moments, a tall man comes from the kitchen to stand behind the counter. 

“hey, sweetheart, we’re closed for dinner prep. you can come back in an hour.” he tells her, voice booming. she offers him a smile, approaching the counter. 

“i’m actually here for the help wanted sign. are you guys taking applications?” she asks, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. 

the man lets out a hardy laugh, “you wanna work here? what, victoria’s secret isn’t hiring?” he asks her, scanning her up and down. her small smile drops, rolling her eyes. 

“never mind,” she goes to turn, leave, and take her chances with the club nearby. 

“ah, hey, hey, hey, wait,” he calls after her, “i’m sorry, i’m being an asshole.”

 she shrugs, not entirely disagreeing. he puts a hand out, gesturing to stay, “wait right here and i’ll get carmy.” the tall man disappears behind the kitchen doors, and she takes a quick opportunity to look around, noting the old fashioned decor, a few parts of the restaurant seemingly in renovation. it was noticeably smaller than her old workplace, but harbored a cozy feel, the bustle of the kitchen softly filtering throughout the lobby. she took a copy of her resume out of the small tote bag she was carrying, setting it on the island in front of her. she hears motion, the kitchen doors swinging open and a man clad in a white shirt and blue apron emerges. he approaches her, separated by the counter.

“hey,” he calls, taking her in, slightly, “you, uh, here to apply?”

holy shit, she feels her throat tighten up, studying his face, strong stature, golden brown curls, “hi, yes i am! my name is -,” she introduces, sticking a hand out.

he takes it, momentarily noticing how cold her hands are. 

“carmy,” he returns, “it’s nice to meet you. you, uh, got a resume?” and lets go of her hand. 

she hands it to him, “here,” feeling slightly self conscious as he glances over it, thinking, is this supposed to be my boss? 

“you have a lot of service experience,” he notes, glancing up at her. 

“yeah,” she hesitates, “i’m not sure if that’s what you’re looking for, but i’m a fast learner.”

“no, no, that’s actually what we would need, another front of house,” he responds, “we only have richie right now.”

she feels a light flutter of hope in her chest, encouraged by the reassurance of their lack of competence in the front. 

“are you working now? this last job dates back six months,” he asks, eyes double checking the paper. there was the dreaded question. she was hoping he wouldn’t notice, heat growing in her cheeks a bit. 

“um, yeah…i actually work over at ricky’s,” she admits, hesitantly. his eyes widen a bit, eyebrows raising. 

“i don’t dance, though,” she rushedly clarifies, “i bartend.” 

his eyebrows relax, and a smile creeps at his mouth in realization.

 “yeah, uh, that’s why i didn’t put it on there,” she says, gesturing to the resume he held, “everyone always thinks i’m a dancer.” 

he clears his throat, busying himself with the piece of paper in front of him for a moment before speaking. 

“you a student?” he asks, glancing up to see her nod, bright smile adorning her face. 

“i’m only taking what i can afford right now, which is like two classes, but yeah,” she explains. he doesn’t have reason for why his tongue feels tied, and the back of his neck hot. he shoves it away. 

“well, um, i probably can’t give you more than about 30 hours a week, at least to start. tips are yours to take home but they, uh, probably won’t compare to the tips at ricky’s,” he brings a finger up to his nose, scratching a phantom itch. the girl tilts her head a bit, smiling, “i’ll take that as a challenge,” she quips. a grin breaks his face, not doubting the personable girl. 

“so, uh, when can you start?” he asks. 

“as soon as possible,” she answers, increasingly eager to quit her bartending job. he looks to the side and behind him, towards the kitchen. 

“if you want, i can get you set up today,” he turns back to her, “i think we have some extra aprons in the back.” 

“wait, really?” she reassures, him nodding in response. she lets out a small squeak, clapping her hands, big smile on her face. 

she’s cute, he thinks to himself, watching her enthusiasm, very quickly trying to shake the thought away. don’t be weird, she’s working for you now. off limits. not to mention he knew he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, emotionally speaking. 

“is this okay to wear?” she asks, gesturing to her outfit and effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. he rakes his eyes downwards over her form, shamefully grateful for the opportunity. hugged by a tight white shirt and baggy jeans that hung to expose a long strip of her lower hips, connecting at her front and lower back. he tears his eyes back up to meet hers. 

“yeah, should be fine,” he says, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, “you won’t be working in the kitchen too much at first, so you don’t have to wear a uniform,” he tells her, putting his hands onto the counter, leaning into them slightly. 

“and just regular work clothes for my next shift?” she asks, finding herself also leaning forward to press her weight against the edge of the counter. he nods, “yeah,” a smirk creeps at the edges of his lips, “just uh, maybe not ricky’s attire,” glancing at the girl. she giggles. he thinks it sounds like bells chiming. 

“what?” she tries to sound surprised, “how am i supposed to make the same tips then?” a smile plays on her lips, meeting his eyes. he lets out a laugh, studying her face. 

“i think you’ll find a way,” he responds. the counter space between the two seemed much smaller than earlier, as now he could see her face in much finer detail. he studies it, briefly, then tears his eyes away, forcing himself to step back. he clears his throat,

“follow me,” and begins walking towards the kitchen, “we’ll try and find you an apron. and introduce you to everyone.” 

a slight feeling of nervousness as she trails behind, unsure what “everyone” will entail.

“okay,” she replies, and steps behind the counter. 

—

 he finds himself in his apartment that night, halfheartedly watching a rerun of an old sitcom on his small tv, his mind wandering back to her time again. he was oddly intrigued by her, wanting to get to know her better. it wasn’t just a physical thing—although she was easy on the eyes— it was her demeanor, sweet and gentle, that somehow immediately smoothed his edges. the staff all took an instant liking to her, welcoming her into the kitchen enthusiastically. sydney seemed happy to have another young woman in the restaurant, tina asking her about her university, richie making the occasional snide comment, but undeniably taking a liking to the new colleague. she made her way around the register system surprisingly fast without training, seamlessly taking orders with the exception of a few brief pauses. carmy kept an eye on the girl throughout the rest of the evening in case she needed him, watching her quickly adapt to the shift of environment. the dinner rush moved shockingly smooth, the large tip jar, empty while richie was manning the front, was halfway full at closing time. he was admittedly impressed with the young woman, trying hard to mentally discern between admiring and enamoring. it was almost as if a bright light had graced the restaurant that evening, leaving carmen with a lingering warm tingle throughout his body. 

he looks around his dark apartment, messy and congested, cigarettes overflowing the ashtray, dishes piling the sink. letting out a deep sigh and running his hand through his curls, he stands, shutting off the tv and making his way to the bedroom. he could clean everything up tomorrow, not that it would make much of a difference, he thinks. although the booming launch of the bear was incredibly uplifting to the chef, reassuring him of the sacrifices he made to keep mikey’s restaurant running, there was still a void carmen felt deep in his heart, growing increasingly apparent in his solitude. he often felt trapped inside of himself, wondering if this was just something he would have to learn to deal with, destined to be defined by his profession, wishing there there was a way he could give into his personal desires while maintaining his professional growth. he crawls into bed and shuts off his lamp light. 

you can’t have your cake and eat it too, a saying he heard from his mom as a kid. he shuts his eyes. 

—                        

fuck. she takes an uneasy breath, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. turning on the faucet, wetting her palms in cold water and bringing the shaky hands to both sides of her face. 

why am i so nervous? 

she wondered if everyone felt this way before a hookup, focusing on deep breaths to calm her nerves. she wasn’t used to this. she had only ever been intimate within relationships, not having experience with casual encounters, nevertheless ones involving her boss. she knew it was a risky pursuit, especially for being a girl with an easily breakable heart, having shed many tears over lovers prior. nevertheless, something about the pull she felt to carmen was magnetic. he was strong, dominant, confident in his work, yet deeply complicated, a dull sadness within his striking eyes. he seemed the type of person to consistently be bearing the heaviest load on his back, and she had an inexplicable urge to relieve him of this, even if only for a moment. she wanted to watch him in bliss at her own control. just have to make sure it doesn’t go too far, she consistently reminds herself. she studies herself in the mirror, skinny straps of a short white sundress peak out from underneath her hair. a dress she specifically chose for him, adorning her exposed chest with a simple gold necklace. she ultimately was aiming to be comfortable for the night, yet each item was intentionally selected with a certain set of eyes in mind. 

i can do it. i’m going to have fun tonight, she tells herself, and potentially fuck my incredibly hot boss, warming at the thought, then i’m never ever gonna think about him again, she internalizes, having had enough with wasted energy on dead end flings. 

she smoothes out the white dress, satisfied with how it hugs her figure, then exits the small bathroom, making her way into her living room. the clock in the adjacent kitchen reads 11:13, and she makes her way to the large window to watch for carmy’s car. she felt erratic, heart palpitating in her chest at each set of headlights that drove by. she opens the window a few inches, breathing in the warm summer night to try and calm her increasing nervousness. it does work, a bit, and she’s able to even out her breathing before leaving. after a moment, a car slowly drives up to the pavement in front of her apartment and stops, engine idling. her phone vibrates on the counter, and she picks it up. 

carmy: i’m here. 

her heart does a leap in her chest, grabbing her keys and turning off the light before opening her front door and walking outside, locking it behind her. she feels slightly self conscious in the headlights while approaching his car, hearing the click of the passenger’s door being pushed open for her. she grabs the door, pulling it all the way open. 

“hi,” she greets, a bit shy. 

“hey,” he replies warmly, silently taking her image in. she climbs into the car and shuts the door behind her, noticing the clean car’s lack of trash and empty ashtray, differing from the previous night. she meets his eyes, a fluttering in her chest. he looks tired, lids low and white shirt wrinkled, but still has a spark in his eyes, clearly admiring the girl’s presentation. he turns his head back in front of him, breaking the eye contact and putting the car into drive. 

“how was close?” she breaks the silence with, noticing the way his eyes flicker back over to her.  

“long,” he admits, “harder without you there.” 

her heart jumps against her ribs, face growing warm at the slight praise. 

“what? you mean richie isn’t the best front of house closer ever?” she feigns surprise, smiling at the thought.

he lets out a scoff, shaking his head, and she softly giggles at this. the lull of the tires against the road fills her ears, noting the limited cars out at this time. her nerves have significantly calmed from before, but she still feels a knot in her stomach, amplified by the light smell of his cologne within the confined space. 

“are you, uh… are you hungry?” he asks her, eyes trained front. she pauses a moment, debating whether she is hungry or the gnawing feeling in her stomach is from nerves alone. 

“yeah,” she replies, “i am.” she wasn’t going to turn down a personal meal from a world class chef, and the thought of him cooking for her before anything else spreads a warmth throughout her chest. 

“good,” a small smile on his face, “i’ll make us somethin’.”

carmen couldn’t help but feel excitement bloom in his chest at the prospect of spending time alone with the young woman, having spent the day at the restaurant mentally preparing for the night. he had been chopping onions before the dinner rush when she closely brushed behind him in the confined space. he was able to smell her sweet perfume, triggering an image of her to flash across his mind— kneeled, lips parted, face flushed, chest bare, leaning into his hands— the knife slipped and he sliced the side of his finger, cursing an obscenity as soon as it happened. he dropped the knife on the cutting board, walking over to the sink, mentally cursing himself for allowing the to perverse thoughts to bleed over into his work, as he promised himself many times they wouldn’t. the bleeding of his finger had stopped quickly under the cool stream of water to reveal a small nick. he was able to put a bandaid on it and get directly back to work, but it plagued him a bit. he wondered if would he be able to maintain the professional kitchen environment in the long run, once the two were satisfied with the fun they’d had. it had proved difficult so far, thoughts of her swarming his head uncontrollably since she had stepped foot into his restaurant. 

the car slows, pulling up to the curb outside carmen’s apartment complex. he pushes the gear shift into park, turning off the engine. 

“this is you?” she asks, to which he nods. “you live closer than i thought you did,” she chimes, opening the door to step out of the car. she smooths the white dress, glancing around the complex. he comes up behind the girl, pressing a hand to the small of her back. 

“this way,” he says, ushering her forward. she can’t help but focus on the warmth of his hand, large and encompassing against her thinly clothed skin. they enter the building, taking the long flight of stairs up to his home, carmy desperately trying to look anywhere else besides the length of her legs leading up to the soft skin of her ass, fully visible as she climbs in front of him. they speedily make it to the top, carmen rustling in his front pocket for the keys. he swings the door open to a dark room, stepping in and flicking on a lamp switch. she follows him in, eyes scanning her surroundings. it was clean and tidy, with piles of various cook books stacked on side tables and a knitted green blanket draped over the old couch. the place smelled like him, and she feels her muscles relax. 

“i know it’s not much, but uh,” he shuts the door, “make yourself at home, please.”

she gives him a big smile, “it’s cute. just what i imagined,” and puts her belongings on a side table, walking around to examine the space. he feels the edges of his lips twitch at her response, watching her look at the scarcity of the place. she spins around, facing him, “you’re really clean, too.” she sounds impressed. 

he smiles at this, appreciating the assumption. 

“it’s not always like this,” he responds truthfully. she lets out a soft laugh and saunters over towards the kitchen island, pushing herself up to sit on the stool he had. he walks to the opposite side of the counter, opening the fridge to gather various ingredients for their dinner. 

“what are you gonna make?” she curiously asks. 

“just uh,” he pauses, looking for an item, “something quick.” he straightens, carrying the ingredients to the counter. he meets her eyes, the two separated by a few feet of laminate, and he feels his chest constrict under her gaze. “some roasted chicken and veggies, with a garlic herb butter,” he turns back to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of unopened wine, beginning to look for a corkscrew. 

“fuck,” she breathes out, “that sounds so good.” 

carmy tenses, stilling for a moment. he loved the way her voice sounded, wanted to hear more. it was apparent he was tightly strung from the grueling week, feeling reactive to everything she said. he pulls the corkscrew out from a drawer, opening the fresh bottle and grabbing two glasses. 

“you want some?” he asks her, holding it up. 

she nods, “yes, please,” eager for a bit of liquid encouragement. he fills the two glasses halfway, handing her one and bringing the side of his glass to clink against hers.

“cheers for making it through the week,” he toasts, earning a giggle from her. 

“cheers! and,” she continues, tilting her head, “cheers for richie not seeing my tits when i was in your office,” she grins and takes a slow sip of the wine, maintaining their eye contact. he lets out a breathy laugh, raising his wine glass to his lips, “yeah, i’ll cheers to that,” and drinks, the red wine dry on his lips. 

with both of their plates empty and the girl’s warm praise still lingering in the room, carmen drinks the remaining wine from his third glass, feeling calm and airy. the apartment is hot and fragrant from the cooking, and the young man notices a pinch of want in the back of his mind, wondering where he had put his cigarettes. 

“do you mind if i go smoke?” he asks her, wine weighing on his tongue. she smiles a bit, shaking her head.

“i’ll go with you,” her voice a bit lower and more drawn out than he would regularly hear it. he nods, standing and walking towards the bedroom to look for a pack of cigarettes. 

“i don’t have a balcony,” he calls from his room, opening his nightstand drawer, “but we can step out onto the fire escape for a bit,” he grabs his carton out of the dresser. carmy walks back into the room to find the girl standing, peering out his window at the black grated fire escape structure. he leans beside her to unlock the window, pushing it open. he puts one leg through, ducks, then steps out, offering a hand for the girl. she takes it, hand small in his, and repeats his actions, noticing a definitive impairment as she joins him outside. 

the night was warm and humid, chicago air damp with the summer monsoon. it smelled good outside, though, air fresh with recent rain, a mellow hum of cicada sounding throughout the trees. carmy flips the carton open, placing a filter between his lips and illuminating his face with the orange of the lighter’s flame. she runs her eyes over his features while they’re briefly lit up, finding herself in a close proximity to him, the two leaning up against the iron railing. she brushes her hair back behind her shoulders, watching the man smoke. the few glasses of wine she had clouded her previous anxieties. she genuinely couldn’t remember what she was worried about now, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the man in front of her. she leans into him, pressing the side of her hip into his thigh, arm flush against his. 

“can i have some?” she asks, staring up at him, glancing down at the cigarette. she didn’t know exactly what it was, the alcohol or him looking so attractive with a cancer stick in his mouth, but she felt compelled to give it another try, having a distaste from previous experience. he turns to face her, gazes locking, a glint of surprise behind his eyes. 

“sure,” he answers, remaining still, pointer and middle finger loosely grasping the cigarette. he glances at her expectantly and she leans over, bringing her mouth to the filter, lips brushing the tips of his fingers. she sucks, carmen watching, completely entranced, then stands upright again, exhaling the smoke with a slight furrow in her brow. the man lets a slight smirk break his face, bringing the cigarette back up to his mouth and inhaling. he studies the dark street behind his building, sporadically illuminated by the soft glow of a street lamp, tiredness catching up with him. she keeps her eyes trained on the man, trailing from his face down his body. she stops at his arms, admiring the sheer strength of them, tracing her sights over his various tattoos. she almost felt overtaken by want in that moment, darting her eyes back up to his lips wrapped around the cigarette. the young woman leans into him further, more of her body touching his and now facing him directly, tipsiness slightly clouding her rationality. 

“carm,” she breathes out, immediately catching his attention. he gazes down at her, cognisant of her breasts pushed against his side, studying her face to find desire written across her features. she brings a hand to his chest, leaning up and gently kissing his neck. she feels his sharp intake of breath under her body, and she smirks at this, placing a few more gentle kisses around the side of his neck. the two had a strict rule about kissing on the lips, but never made the clear distinction to forbid all types of kissing, carmy not daring to protest. his eyes fall closed, focused on the heat of her lips against his neck, the weight of her body on his. he throws the cigarette to the ground, wrapping an arm around her, sliding his fingers up her back and to the base of her skull, carding his fingers through her hair. she nips his neck suddenly, causing him to instinctively tighten his grip, pulling the hair, emanating a breathy moan from the girl. his mouth falls open, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. wrapping his other arm around her back, hand grabbing her hip, he pulls their bodies closer together. carmen’s tight grip doesn’t falter, pulling her head back to see her face, her eyes trailing upwards to meet his. she studies his blown pupils, him drinking her in as if she were a desert oasis. her face is flushed, lids heavy, eyes locked onto his. he leans in and pulls her simultaneously, lightly putting his forehead against hers, noses touching, lips twitching. she can smell the smoke on his breath combined with his fresh deodorant. she finds herself completely intoxicated by this, tightly shutting her eyes, unsure of what she’ll do if she continues to stare. she feels his breath, warm on her lips, so desperate for contact. 

“you like this, don’t you?” he asks, voice a low rumble. 

she gently nods, nose brushing against his, not trusting her voice. a slight tug makes her softly gasp, eyes snapping open. he pulls away, but only slightly. “answer me,” the sound of his voice weakening her knees. he scans his eyes over her face.

“yes,” she breathes out, sounding far more sultry than she intended, “i really like it, carm,” she admits, tone needy. he pulls away from her completely, the girl missing the warmth from his face almost instantly. 

“get inside,” he growls, releasing her hair and removing his arm, leaning over and shoving the window open. 

she takes a second to collect herself, almost dizzy from the eye contact and the growing heat under her dress. she puts her hand on the window ledge, climbing back into the apartment as quickly as she could. carmy follows behind, shutting the window halfway. he eyes the girl, standing by the edge of the counter, then walks past her to the couch, sitting in the middle, leaning back. she shifts, unsure of what to do, her hazed courage of earlier fading. 

“c’mere,” he gestures her over. 

she slowly walks towards him, coming to stand in front of him in between his seated legs, front of her shins bumping into the sofa. he leans forward, bringing his strong hands to caress the back of her thighs, admiring the silkiness of her skin, trailing his palms up and towards the curve of her ass, softly kneading the skin, then stopping. 

“take this off,” he commands, squeezing. her face reddens, inching her hands down to the hem of her dress, slowly pulling it up her thighs. she pauses, before flipping the edge up over her head, taking the dress off completely. he softly groans at the sight, fabric removed to reveal her bare body, clothed only by a pair of skinny black panties. she drops it on the floor, shyly bringing her arms up to cover her breasts. he leans closer to her, pressing a kiss to her navel, bringing his hands up to grab her hips. he marvels at her exposed skin, feeling close to primal with desire, tempted to pull her onto his lap and shove the panties to the side. 

should i?

he glances upwards at her, a smile creeping at the edges of his lips. he slides his left hand down to her the back of her lower thigh, then quickly pulls her body towards him, the girl letting out a sound of surprise, straddling his lap. he pushes her knees open more, hand trailing towards her inner thigh, stroking the soft skin, moving closer to kiss her neck. she lets out a quiet, “yes,” as she leans into the man’s touch, hoping for some release. his fingers brush against the fabric of her clothed mound, making her buck her hips forward a bit. 

“want me to touch you?” he asks her, voice low in tone. she quickly nods her head, biting down on her lip to prevent any escaping noise. he brings his pointer finger to her clothed slit, dragging it up and down over the sensitive area a few times, noticing the abundant slickness beneath the fabric. her eyes flutter closed, cherishing the delicate contact, craving far more. carmen watches her closely, pulling his hand away. her brow furrows, to which he smiles. bringing his left hand from her thigh, he grabs the black panties and pulls them to the side, exposing her glistening core. he groans at the sight, the girls face flushing, bringing his thumb to rest on her swollen clit, unmoving. she whimpers at the sensitivity, bucking her hips forward once more, to which he tightens his grip on her thigh in response. he starts rubbing small, torturous circles with his thumb, thoroughly enjoying the reaction of her body, heat eminating from between her legs, juices dripping down the insides of her thighs and down onto his pants. 

“you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he tells her, cock straining against his pants. she’s too embarrassed to respond, closing her eyes and throwing her arms over carmen’s shoulders, resting her face in the crevice of his neck as he continues his circles at a faster pace, dipping his middle finger down to rest against her opening. she kisses his neck, needy for more and tired of waiting, giving a thrust of her hips to sink herself onto his finger. she releases a drawn out moan, clenching around the soaked digit. 

“fuck,” he curses. 

a sharp smack lands on her thigh, the girl softly whimpering in response, coming back up to meet carmen’s eyes. he has a stern look on his face, a glint of enjoyment present.

“you want me inside of you that bad?” he questions, beginning a soft curling motion with his finger, loving the way she begins to fall apart. 

“yesss,” she pleads, breathing heavily, trying to get closer to him, her hand coming up to the base of his neck to anchor herself. he increases the pace, bringing his thumb back to circle the bundle of nerves. feeling her relax at the pleasure, he pushes a second finger into her, marveling at the hot constriction of her walls. his pulses become rhythmic, middle and ring finger fucking into her, a wet squelching sound beginning to fill the room. her panting moans uncontrollably increase in crescendo, quickly clamping her teeth down to bite her lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching her come undone. he studies her face, closely— eyes screwed shut and head thrown back, trying to seem less affected by his fingers than she obviously is. 

his eyes trail down to her bare chest, nipples perked. 

jesus christ

carmy slows the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper now. he shifts, bringing his lips to brush against her right breast, trailing upwards to her nipple, gently sucking the bud into his mouth. 

her teeth release from her lips, letting out a whimper from the pleasure. 

he smirks a little, motivated from the noise, taking his fingers almost completely out and easing them back in entirely. his thumb continues its feather like circles around her clit, carmy teasing a gentle bite to her nipple. obscene sounds plentifully spill from her mouth, leaning forward into him as he comes up from her breast. her eyes open and lock with his,

“oh my god, yes,” she cries, breath increasingly heavy, his slow fingers bringing her to the edge. a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth as he continues the same movements, watching her approach her climax, eyes shutting tightly, head leaning back. 

“please don’t stop,” her words come rushed, “i’m-“ 

he withdraws his fingers from inside of her, removing his hand from her warmth completely. she lifts her head immediately and looks to the man, confusion and frustration apparent on her face. he lets his smirk grow. 

“what?” he asks, watching her brows furrow further, “did you think i was gonna let you cum?” he asks as he grips her thighs. 

“you’re cruel,” she whines, head falling against his shoulder. 

“yeah?” the smirk on his face was prevalent in his tone. she shifts the placement of her head and comes to gently kiss the bottom of his neck, the hand resting on his chest slowly inching down his stomach and caressing the skin that meets the edge of his pants.

“yeah,” she responds. another kiss to his neck, this one higher up. she sits up slightly to move her hands lower, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. she goes to greedily pull the waist band of his underwear, and he stops her, grabbing her wrist. 

“get down on your knees,” he commands, voice rough. she feels a surge of excitement run through her, easing herself to the ground between his legs, eager to inflict on him the pleasure she endured moments earlier, a dull ache residing in her core. she helps him pull his jeans down around his ankles, him kicking them off completely. she runs her hands over the tops of his strong thighs, then bringing her lips to trail kisses from his lower to upper thigh, teasing closer and closer to his clothed bulge, straining against the fabric. he sits up, slightly, pulling his shirt off over his head. she could swear her mouth watered at the sight, shamelessly gawking at his broad muscles completely exposed, along with tattoos she’s never had the pleasure of seeing. she rubs the palm of her hand over the solid bulge, inching towards the waistband of his briefs. in a fluid motion she quickly peels them towards her, carmy’s cock springing from the confinement and slapping against his stomach. she can’t help but let out a soft moan at the sight, bringing a hand up to grasp the base of his cock, thick and heavy in her hand. the young woman marvels, a bit. 

“it’s big,” she observes, glancing up at him, then back down. she slowly jerks her hand up and down a few times, nervously eyeing the length. she leans forward, placing a hand on his thigh, and licking a long stripe up the side of his cock, then softly kisses the tip, brushing the head against her plumped lips. she looks up at the man’s face, jaw clenched and eyes completely fixated on her. she flattens her tongue and licks the head of his penis, swirling it around the tip. when she locks eyes with him and grins at him, tongue on his cock, he nearly explodes, throwing his head back against the couch and groaning. she presses her bare breasts against his thighs, now engulfing his length in her mouth, slowly moving up and down, hand wrapping around to stroke what she can’t fit. he grunts, bringing his hand up to his mouth, biting his knuckles for composure. she falls into a pace, saliva coating his cock, dripping onto his stomach. she forces her mouth down deeper onto him, gagging, tears brimming her eyes. 

“fuck!” he exclaims, jolting forward. he grabs her hair, gathering it with his hands to keep it out of the way, using every ounce of resistance he has to keep from pushing her head down further onto him. she sinks her mouth lower, bobbing her head and quickening her pace. he tightens his grip on her hair and says her name. she looks up in inquiry, releasing him from her mouth with a wet pop. she continues to stroke his length, meeting his eyes. 

“stand up,” he tells the girl, her immediately complying and getting up, wiping the spit away from her mouth. he comes to lean forward, eye level with her stomach, hooking his fingers into the sides of her panties and removing them altogether. he looks up to her. 

“go get on the bed,” watching her quickly nod and turn towards his bedroom, standing and following the girl, both of them stark in their nudity. his eyes fall to her round ass, bringing a hand up to give it a small smack. she lets out a little yelp in surprise, turning over her shoulder to find a grin on his face. upon entering the dark room, carmy walks to the end of the bed, switching on a lamp on his dresser. the girl crawls onto the bed, flipping to lay on her back, resting her head on his pillow. she watches him from across the room, raising a knee to stack and bringing her hand up to her chest. she runs her thumb over her perked nipple, tracing her free hand down her navel to the crease of her thigh, staring at the man. he turns to her, raking his eyes over her laying form. her hand shifts lower, fingers brushing over her slickened clit, letting out a soft gasp. she arches her back slightly, rubbing small, soft circles over her sensitivity, locking eyes with the man. 

jesus fuck, he internalizes, praying to god this image would remain forever burned into his brain, cock twitching. 

there was something about the man that completely diminished her inhibitions, allowing her to fully submit to her desires and finding her brain instantly numb at his control. she tweaks her nipple, letting out a moan, face flushing, lips parting to speak. 

“come fuck me already, carmy,” she breathes out, movements faltering. he immediately reacts, getting onto the bed, hands hooking under her thighs and pulling her lower body flush to his, his cock laying over her pelvis.

“can’t wait anymore?” he asks lowly, fully knowing his own desire is immeasurable, desperate to be inside of her. 

“no,” she whines, bucking her hips and unintentionally spreading her slickness over the bottom of his length. he lets out a strained breath, running his thumb over her hipbones, grip tightening. he pulls back, then slowly thrusts forward to glide through her folds, feeling her grow increasingly wet. he moves back slightly, now gripping his cock and giving it a stroke, pressing it against her opening. he shifts his hips, slowly inserting the head. he looks to her, meeting her eyes. 

“this ok?” he asks, scanning her face, watching her nod enthusiastically. 

“put it in, please,” she pleads. 

he pushes his hips forward, sinking inside of her inch by inch. the two watch the sight, entranced, a harmonious moan ripping through the both of them. buried to the hilt, carmy pauses, coming forward to lean over her— resting his right forearm by her head, his left arm wrapping around her leg and hoisting it up over his lower back. she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in further. his thrusts start slow and shallow, face buried in her neck, almost in disbelief of the pleasure, so much better than those dreams. he bottoms out, hearing her gasp. 

“you feel,” she breathes out, “so good,” her eyes screwing shut. he thrusts, again, slowly, moving his hand to grip her ass. 

“fuck, baby” he groans into her neck, hips working at a delicate pace. she clenches involuntarily at the name, eager for more, urging him closer with her leg. he recognizes the cue, bringing his leg in closer, pulling out almost completely then plunging back into her. she pants, bringing a shaky hand up to grab his sturdy bicep for stability, feeling his strong muscles ripple underneath her grip. he bites down on his bottom lip, face and chest flushed as he pulls his cock back out of her tightness, thoroughly enjoying the view. he snaps his hips forward, the girl crying out, squeezing his arm tightly. carmen settles into a heightened pace, the depth of his cock igniting a fire within the girl. she moves a hand down and circles her sensitive clit with two fingers, feeling her orgasm already rapidly building as he lifts her lower back slightly off the mattress, driving into her harder. breaths grow heavy, the room gets hotter, skin slaps against skin. he brings his hand up to the side of her face, coming to hover above her, locking eyes. her whole face is flush, baby hairs sticking up, a wild lust in her gaze. carmy snaps his hips harder. 

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her in pace with his thrusts, the girl letting out a moan in response, ripping her hand away from her clit as to not fall over the peak. everything is almost too much as the man relentlessly fucks her, savoring every sound, feeling, sight, not knowing if this would ever happen again. her climax approaches closer with each strong thrust of his hips, and she feels compelled to ask permission. 

“carmy,” she whimpers, “can i please cum?”

he groans, moving his hand to rest on her throat. 

“hold on baby, almost,” he grits through his clenched jaw, driving his cock deeply into her, slick juices spreading everywhere. she brings her hand to the back of his neck, grabbing his curly brown locks and tugging. he lets out a sharp breath at the action, hammering his hips against her, hoisting her leg a bit higher. his thrusts stutter, feeling himself grow impossibly closer to the edge. her moans become a chorus of “please, please, please,” desperate to cum around his cock. he grins slightly at her anticipation, lightly putting pressure against her throat. 

“you gonna cum for me?” he growls, feeling himself approaching his own orgasm. she nods, tears brimming her eyes, face contorted in pleasure. his simple words snap the final string holding her together, and she comes undone with a loud cry, digging her nails into his back. the pleasure feels white hot throughout her body, waves of euphoria overtaking her. her body shivers, the clenching of her heat around carmen is enough to push him over his edge as he lets out a strangled moan, hot cum shooting into her, cock pulsing against her walls. they both lay there still, riding out the aftershocks together, bodies flush. they both catch their breaths for a moment, basking in the warmth of each other. carmy pushes himself up onto his forearm, grabbing her face with a strong hand and planting a kiss on her cheek, then one on her forehead. she tries to ignore the butterflies that erupt inside of her. he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a few tissues, then slowly pulls out of her, his cum spilling down the curve of her ass. he gently cleans her up with the tissue, walking to the bathroom to throw them away once she’s dry. he returns to his room to see her sprawled onto her side, laying over his pillows. he joins in, laying next to her, scooting his strong arm under her head. she scoots closer to him, hand on his chest. he’s warm, smells good, feels safe, and she finds her eyes close for a moment. 

“i’ll leave in just a sec,” she tells him softly, “i’m just so comfy.”

he wraps his other arm around her, kissing her forehead once more. 

“stay the night,” he suggests, knowing it’s for a selfish reason, currently unable to fathom sleeping in a cold and empty bed without her presence. she happily hums in response, snuggling closer, already feeling herself drifting off. he closely watches the girl laying in his arms, eyes flickering over her face. he admires her features up close, examining what he’s usually too far away to see, running his eyes over a few faded freckles, the light peach fuzz on her cheek, the glimmer of a golden nose ring. he feels a twinge in his chest, resting his forehead against the sleeping girl’s, her deep breathing melodic to his tired ears. carmy knew deep down he wouldn’t be able to entertain this forever, opting to cherish the feeling of her against him while it lasts. he reaches to the foot of the bed, pulling a throw blanket up over the two of them, not bothering to shut off the lamp. he feels a sweet relief once he pulls her into him once more, nuzzling his nose into her hair. he shuts his eyes, the events from the day catching up to him. 

he finds the last thing he thinks about before drifting into sleep is her, sweet and airy, breathing in her scent closely. he hears a dreamlike giggle, reminiscent of bells chiming, and smiles softly. 

— 

i hope you enjoyed! writing for these two gives me the butterflies fr

chapter 3 hopefully in the works! <33 if you enjoy please let me know :)

part 3 - human, for a minute

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

Long idea so bare with me. You are a college student (fem pov) and you and you family are visiting your uncle for the summer. Your uncle just happenes to be JY Park (JYP) so you go to South Korea and that’s when you meet the group your uncle owns… stray kids. Now your dad really wants you to go on a date with one of them but you think that stray kids are actually stuck up and entitled so your like nope.your like ya there very fucking hot but…Then you get to know them and there not just hot as hell (and horny) but also good people. But your angry at your father so you don’t want to do what he asked but stray kids are so hot, so you sneak out to there dorm to do some not so kid friendly stuff if you get my drift. You can build on from that but that’s just an idea. Love your stuff <3 keep writing!

Wow hi! I was so shocked (and happy!) to get this ask. It was a little daunting, but I actually really enjoyed working on it. So thank you:) I hope you end up seeing this, Anon!

Comments: This is part one in what will likely be an ongoing series in which the reader will eventually be involved with all 8 members, but for now, we're starting with Seungmin and Hyunjin.

Rating: Explicit/18+

WC: 7.5k

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“Can you at least pretend you’re happy to be here?” Your mom is giving you the look again. “Jin-Young said he wants to take you to his company. Maybe he can give you a summer internship, so you’ll still have something to put on your resume.” 

“Ah yes,” you sigh and roll your eyes. You know that JYPE is a huge company with great artists, but you also know from experience that idols aren’t your cup of tea. Working there doesn’t sound like a great time. “Nothing like some good ole nepotism to boost your resume. Plus, I’m not even majoring in anything related to the music business.”

“Well honey, if you’re determined to be upset about this, then it’s not going to be a good summer.” She pats you on the shoulder, signaling that the conversation is over. “I just hope you’ll try to keep an open mind.”

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The next day, after breakfast with your parents and uncle, you all head to JYPE. JYP gives you all a small tour, introducing you to the different groups currently in the practice rooms. The last group you meet is Stray Kids. Like the others, they immediately stop what they’re doing to come greet your uncle. Standing in a line like that, glistening from the sweat of their hard work; you stare shamelessly. You’ve seen a few of their videos, so you already knew they looked good. They’re even hotter in person. Even more so, because they aren’t cookie cutter copies of each other; they each have unique features that catch your eye. Still, you know what tends to hide behind pretty faces and hot bodies, so you don’t plan on thinking about them much once you leave this room.

JYP introduces you, and you’re met with the same fake, polite greeting from each of them. Then he throws a curveball. “So my niece will be spending a lot of time with you in the next few weeks; take good care of her.”

You try not to look too shocked and shoot a glance at your mom. She gives you a smile and a shrug as if this isn’t totally her doing. As your uncle begins discussing something with a couple members and your dad, you take her to the side to talk privately. 

“Mom! I’m going to be ‘spending time’ with them? Doing what? I told you I didn’t need a pity internship!” You whisper-shout as soon as you’re sure no one will hear you.

“Oh, you’re being a bit dramatic.” She shakes her head at you. “This will be a good experience for you! It’ll even relate to your major; you’re going to be helping them with their English, kinda like a tutor. Your future students are going to think you’re so cool being related to JYP; you’ll be able to bond with them even better when you can tell them you’ve worked with their favorite idols.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but you still don’t love the idea. Idols are the worst.

Soon it’s time for the guys to get back to practice, and your family’s tour ends in JYP’s office. Along the way, your dad gushes over Stray Kids, and you try not to look annoyed. You learn that SKZ is getting ready for their next world tour and some of them are feeling like they need to get back into the habit of speaking English so they can feel more confident interacting with their fans. 

“I was happy when your mother asked if there was anything for you to do around here. I think it’ll be a good way for you to stay busy and make friends while you’re here in Korea. And of course, we’ll get to spend so much more time together if you’re here in the building every day.” Your uncle looks so pleased; you don’t want to bring him down.

“I look forward to it.” You hope your smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”

In the car on your way home, your dad kind of shocks you. “Honey, I think you should go on a date with one of those boys. Jin-Young speaks so highly of them, and they’re very polite and intelligent. Just the kind of boy we’d be happy to see you with.”

Your mom agrees immediately. “And they’re so talented! After I talked to my brother about your internship, I watched a few of their music videos. Not to mention, they’re all quite easy on the eyes.” 

“I don’t care how cute they are, mom!” Though you certainly wouldn’t kick any of them out of bed. “I would never date any of them.”

“Just think about it, honey.” Your dad isn’t going to let this go. “See how you feel after spending a few days working with them.”

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The next day, you show up to JYPE bright and early, wishing you were still in bed and dreading the day you’re about to spend with a bunch of hot assholes. When you arrive at the studio they’re starting out in, half the group is already there. Their leader, Bang Chan, greets you immediately and gestures for you to sit on the couch in the back of the room. The others are so engrossed in each other that they don’t even seem to notice you.

“So as you may know, Felix and I are also fluent in English since we’re both from Australia. The rest of the kids have various levels of fluency and confidence in their skills.” You have to actively remind yourself not to swoon over his accent. “It’ll be helpful to have another person to speak casually with and maybe correct pronunciation on some words. Sometimes they have questions about little grammar things, so they may ask you. I think that’s all? That sound okay to you?”

“Yeah, sounds fine.” Anything else you might say is lost when four rowdy guys walk in the studio. They’re laughing and a couple of them start yelling. This might be a long day. One of them - you probably should’ve made sure you knew who was who before coming today - starts handing out iced coffee to the ones who were here first. He surprises you by handing you one as well. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He gives you a big smile. Those dimples are dangerous. “You’re welcome! We didn’t want to leave you out.” 

His accent is cute, too. Which one is he? You’re about to try to run through their names in your head when Bang Chan claps his hands and yells, “Alright!”

The eight of them are suddenly lining up in front of you. After a ‘1, 2’ from Bang Chan, in unison, they say, “Step out. Hello, we are Stray Kids.” You weren’t expecting the full greeting like this again.  

“We know that this was kind of sprung on you, so we thought it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves again. So I am Bang Chan, though you can just call me Chan, or Chris, if you want.” Chan gestures to the guy next to him, and they sound off from there. You’ve got all their names down now. Though, of course it’s all stage names (for those who don't go by their first names), which feels a bit like keeping you at arm's length. Hopefully talking with them won’t be too annoying, but you’re worried about the idea of just hanging out with them all day; there’s only so much time you’re willing to spend with a bunch of douchebags.

Chan calls for Hyunjin to head into the recording booth, then sends Lee Know and I.N, the one with the coffee, over to talk with you. They somewhat awkwardly ask you to go over the pronunciation of the English lines they’ll be recording today; these two must be the ones least comfortable with English. Still, they do well. And as much as you hated that your mom landed you with this ‘job,’ you have to admit that this is actually a worthwhile way to spend your time. It is the kind of experience that would look good while applying for teaching jobs in the future. 

After a fair amount of practice, Lee Know heads to the recording booth, and I.N goes to join a couple of the other guys. You think Han is coming to talk to you, but he just flops over on the couch for a nap. So you’re back to just awkwardly sitting in a room full of dudes that are ignoring you. Great.

As the session goes on, you marvel at the way they work. They work so hard, recording and re-recording again and again until they’re satisfied. You do end up having conversations with most of them, mostly about their album and whichever of them was currently in the booth. Seeing their passion, you start to feel like they might not be as stuck up as you were thinking; they’re just focused and dedicated.

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You dip out after recording; your uncle asked you to come have an early lunch with him. By the time you return to Stray Kids, they’re in a large practice room. Once again, you’re sitting on a couch in the back of the room, just watching them interact, feeling like a piece of the furniture. 

When the music starts, you look up from your phone and… damn. They all can dance really well. Like it’s hard for you to pick out the main dancers at first. 

They’re all lip syncing or singing along quietly as they move through the steps, then Han starts full out singing. You thought most idols struggled to sing when they dance like this; that’s why they play their tracks during their concerts. He sounds phenomenal, though, nearly as good as he did in the recording booth. And he sets off the others, every other line someone sings it out loud, and once again they all do it so well. Maybe you know less about idols than you thought. 

When they finish Chan comes over with a cocky grin on his face. “What did you think?”

With dimples like that and that accent, you know he must be insufferable. Still, he hasn’t given you a reason to be rude. “It was super cool. I didn’t expect to enjoy watching you practice so much. You’re all such great dancers.”

You were too complimentary; you can tell by the way he puffs up. You see the two behind him smile and fistbump, and decide you don’t need to stick around for the douchiness to come out. “Anyway, I’m gonna head out, unless you guys will need me again?”

Chan nods, and with that you’re out the door.

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As the week goes on, you realize you shouldn’t have taken such a hard stance with your parents. They check in every evening, asking about how working with ‘those cute boys’ was and which one you think you might want to go out with so your mom can set it up with JYP. Every day you insist that you’re not at all interested in stuck up idols, and every day you feel like you’re lying more and more. 

You’ve had the opportunity to witness a lot while you’ve been with Stray Kids. They invite you to lunch and to watch practices in your off time, and you’re not going to pass up getting free meals and witnessing the beauty of their movement. With that, you’re around them when they’re not in work mode as well, seeing how kind and conscientious they are. They seem to truly care for the staff around them; they’re constantly doing things for each other and basically everyone else. They start opening up to you; you hear the way they talk about their fans, their families, their staff. And they’re very good to you, too - always treating you, making sure you’re comfortable and have anything you want/need. It turns out that they are truly the nicest guys; and if it’s not genuine, you don’t know what is. 

When you walk into the studio the next morning, you’re pulled into an unexpected hug. Felix gives you that big smile of his. “Good morning! I hope you don’t mind that we’re starting a little early today.” 

You return it readily. “Good morning! Honestly, it’s not too bad. I usually have early classes, so this feels normal.”

You go to sit on the couch and wait to find out exactly what you’ll need to do while you watch the present members. Felix is clearly the biggest morning person; he’s like a little flame, giving sparks to each member he speaks to, and you can see them brightening in his wake. After a few minutes, Chan comes in with Seungmin. He gives you a wave, but goes to sit by Changbin and immediately starts discussing their schedule for the session. Seungmin approaches you instead, handing you an iced latte - he got your order just right.

“Oh thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, we wanted to thank you for changing things up for us today.” His English accent is so cute, and he’s incredibly attentive. And you love talking with him most. “Channie Hyung asked me to give you the low-down.” 

Like the first day, Chan thought it would be nice to have you talk through pronunciations for Lee Know, I.N, Hyunjin, and Seungmin’s lines while the others are recording. You’re pretty sure that they could get this done without you easily, but you like having this time with them now. They’ve started relaxing a bit, working casual conversation into their time with you.

Even when you’re working with one of the other guys, Seungmin tends to sit with you, both double checking little things and helping you to direct them. His presence is comforting and welcome, often with his arm draped behind you over the back of the couch, occasionally brushing his hand against your shoulder or back.

By Friday, you feel like you have a much better understanding of the guys. You’ve seen their more serious sides and their sillier sides. And their flirty, kinda dirty sides. You’ve gotten glimpses of this over the course of last week, but it’s like the gloves came off today. It’s not even just flirting with each other. All day they all make sure to send quippy innuendos your way and make some kind of unnecessary physical contact with you, and you don’t hate it. You actually kind of love it. 

3Racha go to work in their smaller studio, while you head to a practice room with the rest, and things take a slightly spicier turn. After a few run-throughs of different aspects of the choreography, Lee Know turns to you. “Wanna try it out?”

You’re not much of a dancer, but you figure what the hell, no harm in trying. You try to follow his steps as he counts them out, and even though you’re doing pretty well, Lee Know directs Hyunjin to give you a little extra support. With Hyunjin close behind you, placing light touches on your hips, your arms, your shoulders, it gets harder to focus on what you’re doing. When you’ve gone through the steps, they compliment you on the way you move.

“You could be a little looser in the hips, though. It’ll help all the moves flow more smoothly.” Hyunjin gets behind you again, this time with his front pressed to your back, his hands landing firmly on your hips. He applies slight pressure to encourage you to follow along with the sway of his hips. You nearly shiver when he whispers into your ear, “I like the way your hips move with mine.”

You have a moment like that with each of them. You try not to let it get to your head, but with each touch and insinuation, you’re falling into fantasies with each of them. When they break the group up further for more individual practice, Lee Know takes your hand.

“Come to my practice room for a bit?” He lets go when you take a step after him, giving you a coy smile. When you get into the small room, he indicates that you should take a seat facing him. Then he’s kneeling in front of you so that you’re looking down into his beautiful, brown eyes for once. His hand rests on your knee for balance, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absently. You start to think about what it would be like if he leaned in and his hands moved up your legs… The thought cuts off when he speaks again, an interesting gleam in his eyes. “So I’ll sing once through, if you notice anything you can make a note. Then I’ll sing again and you can stop me when I make a mistake.”

You want nothing more than to sit and listen to him sing for hours on end. His voice is amazing. You grab the pad and pen from the table next to you. “Of course!”

For the next hour or so, Lee Know - Minho, he told you you could call him that - sings for you, and you sing his praises. It is incredible. His voice – he himself – is so beautiful. He very gracefully takes your critiques and works hard to get things perfect. 

The rest of the day is much the same, really just hanging out with the guys and watching them work, sometimes with all eight of them, other times in smaller groups. All of them continue to flirt, making you more and more interested in spending time with them outside of work hours. As you’re heading out for the day, Seungmin catches up with you.

“Would you wanna grab a coffee with me later?”

You try not to smile too big. “That’d be great. Just tell me when and where.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

When you get home, you’re already going over your plan to meet Seungmin at the cafe near his dorm. You’re so immersed in thoughts of him, you nearly run into your mom.

She asks the usual questions and you give the usual answers. 

“Honey, I really do think you should consider letting your uncle set you up with one of those boys. You say you’re not having fun at this internship, but your mood seems up. It might be good for you.”

You can’t believe she was right, but you’re not gonna let her know that. So you lie. “That doesn’t have anything to do with a bunch of idols. I met a girl who works in the cafeteria who’s cool, though. I’m actually meeting her at a cafe in a little bit.”

She’s happy that you’re making friends and leaves you to get ready. You throw on a top that tastefully shows off your cleavage paired with cute, comfy flowy shorts that could probably cover your ass a little better. You feel a little bad going behind her back, but your parents would be insufferable if they learned that you were interested in them. 

When you get to the cafe, Seungmin is waiting outside, two coffees in hand. Unfortunately, you can’t see his smile behind the mask, but he does look good despite it. 

“Hi, thanks! Were you wanting to sit outside?”

His ears look a little pink; you worry that he’s got bad news. “I actually was hoping you’d want to take a walk. Maybe to the dorm to hang out with the guys? It’s completely fine if you don’t.”

You think about it less than you should before agreeing. If you took a moment, you’d think it sounds like a set up for something more. Actually, you might still have agreed. 

He takes your hand and after a short walk you reach the Cuties Dorm, as they call it, but all of the other members are there. When you walk into the living room, you’re greeted by shouts from each of them and what’s become the usual hug from Felix, that literal ball of sunshine. This time his arms linger around you a bit longer as he tells you he’s happy you decided to come.

As you settle on the couch between Seungmin and Hyunjin; the former sits a little closer than necessary, leaning into you, while the latter throws his arm around your shoulders with his hand gently kneading into the nape of Seungmin’s neck. You revel in their closeness. You all hang out for a while together; they tell stories and ask you more about your life back in the states. Like earlier in the day, there’s more flirting and touching than usual, and they’re even less subtle about it. Also like before, you give as good as you get. 

At one point, Hyunjin makes what you think is a joke about how nice it is that you signed a broad NDA when you started at JYPE in case you decide to have “even more fun” with them. You laugh and agree, leaning into him a bit more. Seungmin’s hand lands on your thigh then, fingers lightly caressing your bare skin. You’re not entirely sure if this is going where you think it is, but between their hands and arms on your body and the looks the members shared at your agreement, you’re starting to wonder if it really was a joke. 

“I’m really glad we’re getting to know you more tonight.” Chan watches you, head tilted, contemplative, as he says it. “We’ve all been hoping to get closer to you. We just weren’t sure how open to it you would be.”

Seungmin slides his hand a tiny bit more toward the inside of your thigh and gives you a quick squeeze. You stare at Chan for a moment. He licks his lips, holding your eye contact. Well, fuck it; if I’m wrong, I’ll just refuse to go back to work, you think. “So to be clear… You all are hoping that I’m interested in hooking up?”

 Despite his boldness from just moments before, Chan starts turning into a tomato and looking down at his hands. Not one to mince words, Lee Know takes control of the situation. “Yes. Are you?”

“I mean…” You glance around the room, taking in the varying levels of hope, embarrassment, and desire on their faces. You rest one hand on Seungmin’s and the other on Hyunjin’s leg. “You don’t mean all at once, right? I think I’d need to work up to that.”

The room erupts in laughter and the tension dissipates. You all agree to just let things progress naturally, with the stipulations that they’re all going to actively pursue you now and that relationships won’t go beyond a friends with benefits situation. You assure them that you’re attracted to all of them, not that you felt pressured when Chan said ‘all.’ 

Luckily, once you’ve talked things out, things are as relaxed as before the conversation started. Soon, though, most of the guys announce that they’re leaving. 3Racha need to head back to the studio to work on a track they’d been talking about for the last half hour. Minho and I.N had plans to see a movie tonight, and Felix decides to tag along. On their way out, each of them gives you a hug. Chan’s is only a half hug, but his hand is definitely on your ass. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he just gives you a little squeeze and a pat before heading for the door. Changbin’s hug is so comforting that you wish you could just melt into him. Han is bold enough to kiss your cheek before saying goodbye with a wink. Seeing this, Felix immediately says that he wants a kiss, too. Rather than kissing your cheek like Han, however, his soft lips make contact with yours for just a second. You’re pretty sure your cheeks are on fire as I.N slips in right as Felix releases you. 

“Better make it a full set,” he says as he brushes a quick kiss on the side opposite of Han’s. Minho is last and to your surprise, he keeps his hands off your ass - you would’ve thought if anyone was going to grab it, it would’ve been the resident butt hunter. He does, however, whisper suggestively in your ear before he releases you. “I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

You turn to face the remaining two, the implication in Minho’s words making your head spin. You meet Hyunjin and Seungmin’s eyes in succession, unsure of what your next move should be.

“We’re going to watch a movie, if you wanna stay here with us for a while longer.” Seungmin’s voice is neutral, but you think you can see a touch of hunger in his eyes. “Otherwise, I’m happy to walk you home.”

Hyunjin bites his lip while he waits for your answer. It makes you wish you were the one biting it. “Yeah, a movie sounds nice.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

You make your way to the couch again with Hyunjin, and Seungmin heads to the kitchen to make popcorn and grab other snacks. The two of you sit facing each other, discussing preferred genres and favorite movies. You land on The Greatest Showman for tonight, and Hyunjin’s face lights up with passion as he talks about his favorite dance numbers in film. When Seungmin arrives with the snacks, Hyunjin surprises you by reaching over and pulling you halfway into his lap.

“Sorry,” he giggles, not looking even a little sorry. His hands are lingering on your hips, and you catch yourself looking at his lips again. “Just wanted to make sure Minnie had room to sit.”

“So considerate of you, Jinnie.” Seungmin deadpans as he sets the snacks and drinks on the coffee table. He sits beside you, partially on your cushion, and his hand lands on Hyunjin’s, still on your hip. Your breath hitches when you feel a slight squeeze. Hyunjin releases you then, and you turn to face the tv; they’re both so close to you, you feel your cheeks heating up. But then they’re acting normal again, like they have no clue that now all you can think about is being pressed between them with their hands and mouths exploring your body. You know you just confidently talked about hooking up with them, but you’re a little nervous now.

“I am considerate.” Hyunjin laughs and gestures at the screen. “You love this movie, right? We picked it just for you.”

For the next 20 minutes, it’s just like it was before ‘the talk.’ You're talking a little as you watch the movie. Seungmin has his arm around you this time, and after a few minutes Hyunjin rests his head on your shoulder and takes your hand; his thumb traces small circles on your skin. Seungmin moves so that his hand is on the nape of your neck now; when he presses in a bit with his fingers, you look over at him, and Hyunjin takes the opportunity to make a move. 

Seungmin is smiling as Hyunjin places a kiss just under your jaw and your mouth drops open with a sharp inhale. Hyunjin’s hand drops yours and moves to softly squeeze your thigh as he kisses you again. Seungmin tips your chin up so you look directly into his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so instead you nod and rest your hand on his thigh. He smiles widely and leans in to press his lips to yours. He tries to pull back, but you immediately pull him back, tilting your head for a deeper kiss. Hyunjin continues to leave a trail of kisses on your neck and his hand shifts up to your waist, creeping up slowly. At once, he gives you a gentle bite and his hand cups your breast. You break your kiss with Seungmin with a small gasp. As soon as you turn to face him, Hyunjin captures your lips, his tongue tangling with yours. Seungmin takes over for him on the other side of your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. Both their hands roam across your body. They’ve barely begun - you hope - but you’re already feeling a little overwhelmed and unsure what to do with your hands.

It’s like Hyunjin reads your mind. He sits back grinning at you with pink, pouty lips shining. Seungmin turns toward you, and throws his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap, turning you to face away from him and keeping his arms wrapped around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder. Hyunjin finds your hands and asks, “This isn’t too much, is it?”

You bite your lip as you consider how to answer. He’s so beautiful; it’s hard to think of anything besides kissing him again. “It’s kind of a lot… But I don’t want to stop.”

Seungmin begins kissing your neck again, both hands cupping and caressing your breasts.  Hyunjin’s smile widens as he scoots as close to Seungmin as possible, gently moving your legs so they drape over his lap. One hand starts kneading the inside of one of your thighs. He leans in, his other hand comes up - you thought it was going to your face, but he reaches past you to stop Seungmin’s progress on your neck. You feel yourself being pushed forward slightly, feel his obviously hardening cock on your back, as you watch Seungmin bring his face up to meet Hyunjin’s. The second their lips touch, your jaw drops a bit.

When this began, you somehow never even thought about this being a possibility. With how comfortable they are flirting with and touching each other, you feel a little silly for not considering it already. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. They’re so beautiful together. You catch a glimpse of Hyunjin’s tongue slipping into Seungmin’s mouth at the same time that his hand makes contact with your center, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. You spread your legs a bit to give him easier access, wishing there weren’t two layers of fabric blocking his path. As you move, Seungmin’s hand comes down to hook your outside leg over his, spreading you further. Lips still locked on Hyunjin’s, his hands slide inside your shirt and around to your back; once your bra is unclasped, his hands come back around and under it, pinching and twisting your nipples. 

A small moan escapes your lips and brings Hyunjins attention back to you. Both of their mouths are on you again, and Hyunjin slips his fingers into your panties. You feel like you’re on fire. You simultaneously reach in front of and behind you, wrapping each hand around equally impressive lengths. As you stroke them through their shorts, you elicit two moans in harmony. 

Hyunjin pulls back. “As much as I like this couch, I wonder if we should move somewhere a bit more comfortable, Minnie?”

One of Seungmin’s hands drops down to your waist, the other continues to tease you. “That is an excellent idea, Jinnie. Are you alright with that?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you now. They move in unison. When one speaks, the other kisses, their hands never stop touching, caressing, taking you closer to what is sure to just be your first climax of many tonight. You nod and capture Seungmin’s lips.

Hyunjin giggles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I know you said this was a lot, so I think we’d prefer a verbal answer.” He pulls at your shirt. “Cause if we move locations, things are definitely going to heat up.”

“I want that.” You nearly gasp. “Please, let’s go. Wherever.”

Hyunjin stands, pulling you up with him. “Seungmin-ah, why don’t you take our gorgeous friend here to your room while I go get a few things.”

“Yes, sir.” Seungmin smiles and salutes before throwing you over his shoulder with a quick slap on your ass. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Seungmin proceeds to his room, not flinching at the slaps you’ve landed on his cute, little ass in complaint. In no time at all, he’s dropping you onto your back, and before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you. His tongue clashes with yours, one hand grips your hip tightly while the other grips your face and neck with his thumb pressed under your chin. He’s a bit more… forceful than you expected. It’s exciting. You bite his lower lip. 

He smiles against your lips. He brings his hand to the hem of your shirt and starts pulling it up. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You let him pull your top off and discard your bra. You pull his shirt up as well, ready to see more of him. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should be waiting for Hyunjin, but as soon as his shirt clears his head, he’s on you again - this time bringing his mouth to one nipple to suck, lick, and bite gently. One of his hands slides down into your panties; his fingers thrust into you a few times before spreading your wetness up to your clit. You arch into him with a moan. 

Seungmin starts kissing his way down your body. You whimper when he retracts his hand to pull your shorts and underwear off in one smooth motion. He pauses then to look down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re naked in the bed of a man you met less than a week ago. With another on his way to join you. You wonder if you think you make terrible or excellent decisions. You sit up and tug on the waistband of his shorts, and when he slides them off, you lean more toward excellent. He doesn’t give you the chance to touch his nice, thick cock; when you reach for it, he puts a hand on your chest, pushing you onto your back. He settles down between your legs. He kisses a trail from your right knee down your thigh, nipping at you in a few places. When he starts back at the top of your other knee, you let out a whiny “Minnie…”

“So impatient.” He smiles up at you. He doesn’t stop his teasing, but at your small groan, he splays his hand over your stomach, thumb landing on your clit. His lazy circles barely take the edge off. 

“Seungmin, please.” 

He chuckles, but takes pity on you. He gives you a long lick, sucking when he reaches your clit. Your back arches off the bed, and you squeeze your eyes closed with a moan. You’re so preoccupied that you miss the door opening and shutting, only realizing Hyunjin’s in the room when he kisses your forehead. 

“Is my puppy making you feel good? He’s great with his tongue.” Hyunjin giggles when Seungmin sits back, mouth and chin glistening, to ‘mong mong’ at him. 

You reach up for Hyunjin, but he’s already moving closer to Seungmin. He runs his hand down your body, easily sliding three fingers into you while simultaneously leaning over to lick the Seungmin’s lips clean. It is… beyond hot. 

“You taste good,” Hyunjin turns back to you, his fingers pumping in and out, keeping you panting and needy. “And you’re so wet for us, baby. Minnie, I think you should finish what you started so I can have a turn.”

You almost tell him that he can just take his turn now, but Seungmin dives in immediately with renewed vigor. Every swipe of his tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge. You expect Hyunjin to kiss or touch you in some way, but when you can control your trembling body enough to look down at Seungmin, you see that Hyunjin is just behind him. You watch both of Seungmin’s hands reach up to tweak your nipples and realize that Hyunjin has reached under his arm, and his fingers are the ones expertly curling against your g-spot. They’re so in sync. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as Hyunjin switches hands, so he can stroke Seungmin’s cock using your wetness to smooth his glide. The sight tips you over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your head as you curl in on yourself with a moan. Seungmin keeps up a steady pace allowing you to ride out your orgasm. He disengages with a moan of his own as you come down. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hyunjin purrs. He grips Seungmin by the hair to tip his head back and kiss him passionately before turning back to you to say, “and a good boy. Don’t you think so?”

You let out a sigh and sit up. Your gaze immediately begins tracking the movement of Hyunjin’s hand again. You suck your lower lip between your teeth with a soft groan. At Seungmin’s soft “fuck,” you bring your hand over to rub lazy circles over your clit. Suddenly, Hyunjin draws his hand back. Seungmin whines and your eyes snap up to Hyunjin’s.

“Well, Minnie, if she doesn’t think you did a good job, I’m not sure you should get a reward.” He says it with a devious smile on his face. When Seungmin huffs and turns to try to bite his neck, Hyunjin catches his chin and crashes his lips back to Seungmin’s.

“No, no!” You say a little too loudly, scrambling toward them. “He did such a good job! He was amazing. You were amazing, Minnie.”

Hyunjin giggles and drags Seungmin’s face toward yours. His tongue slides against yours, and your hand picks up where Hyunjin’s left off. One of his hands is back on your chest, the other sliding through your folds again. Hyunjin laughs again, gently pushing both your shoulders to separate you. “Oh well if he was that good, he deserves more than this. Lay on the bed, pup.”

Seungmin pouts a little, squinting his eyes at him as he stands. “Hyunie, I know you like taking charge, but it feels like there’s a little too big of a power imbalance here.”

Hyunjin laughs, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing his shorts to the ground. Like Seungmin, his body is nicely toned, not overly muscular. Beautiful. “Better?”

“Almost.” Seungmin tucks a finger into the waistband of briefs, pulling Hyunjin closer to him. The smile on his face is devastating. “And I think I’ll choose my own reward. Lose these and you sit on the bed.”

Hyunjin presses a quick kiss to Seungmin’s jaw. Then he licks his lips and turns to you. “Help me out?”

You’re enjoying watching them so much, you nearly forgot you’re part of this as well. You free him of his briefs and watch his half-hard cock bounce as he moves to sit with his back against the headboard. Seungmin’s watching as well, his head cocked to the side. He moves behind you, hands resting on your waist. You get a chill when you feel his breath on your neck. He whispers, “I’m going to put on a condom now. While I do, you should get on your knees between Jinnie’s pretty dancer’s legs, ass up and ready for me.”

The second his hands leave you, you’re crawling up to take Hyunjin’s pretty cock into your mouth. Another time you might have teased him, but you’re so hot for him, for them, that you want to get him on your level as soon as possible. You bob your head, tongue swirling around his tip when you come up. With each pass, he stiffens and grows - you soon have to work to fit him in your mouth. You relax your throat and take him further, wrapping a hand around his base, the other resting on his hip. 

“Mmmm,” Hyunjin rumbles, tangling his fingers into your hair with a smile. “Minnie, is this a reward for me or for you?”

You feel Seungmin bring himself into position behind you. He grabs your hips, adjusting them so that you’re just where he wants you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he plunges a couple fingers into you. “I always want to reward you, baby, but I feel like the real winner is between us.”

He lands a playful slap on your ass and you hum in agreement, causing Hyunjin’s grip in your hair to tighten as he lets loose a low groan. You hum again, then pull off with a pop. You grin up at him as you feel Seungmin tap the fat head of his cock against your ass. You tape Hyunjin’s tip into your mouth and suck hard as you continue to pump your fist around his shaft. You feel the pressure of Seungmin pushing into you, his hands grip your hips tightly. He goes slowly, sinking inch by inch filling you up. The pressure feels fantastic. You moan, giving Hyunjin a slight squeeze. Both men jerk their hips in tandem. You pull off Hyunjin with a gag, panting, pushing back against Seungmin as he keeps up steady thrusts.

Hyunjin takes your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, baby. It felt so good; I couldn’t keep still. If you can’t keep going, I can wait my turn.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m - ahh - I’m okay. Just wasn’t ready.” You press your face into his thigh with another shaky moan. 

Hyunjin laughs. “Seungminnie, are you happy where you are or should we flip her?”

“No,” you pant. “I wanna… I wanna finish.”

Seungmin is hitting you in just the right spot. Each rock of his hips sends you closer to your peak. Hyunjin laughs again. It turns into another groan as you wrap your lips back around his head and suck hard. “Fuck me.”

“I can do that next, if you want, but I might need a breather.” Seungmin grunts out as he increases his pace. His grip on your hips tightens, you’re likely going to end up with bruises. You increase your pace in turn, and Hyunjin’s moans become more frequent. It’s hard to maintain, though. You pull off of Hyunjin with a gasping moan, burying your face in his thigh again. 

“I’ve got this, baby.” Hyunjin takes over for you, jerking himself in tempo with Seungmin’s thrusts, his gaze locked on the snap of Seungmin’s hips. He lets out a drawn out groan. “You’re taking Minnie so well. You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now. Fuck, Min, I think I could come just by watching you; I’m already so close.”

Hyunjin’s other hand is stroking your hair and you look up at him, mouth hanging open barely able to do much more than pant and moan. The tide is rising in you, threatening to wipe you out. 

As he lets go of one of your hips, you feel Seungmin lean against your back. and Hyunjin is leaning forward to meet him. You can barely see their kiss, but you feel how it’s interrupted Seungmin’s rhythm and let out a whimper. His hand drops from Hyunjin’s face into your hair. He pulls it a little less than gently. The new angle allows you a better view of Hyunjin working himself and biting his lip. The space created gives Hyunjin room to take hold of one of your breasts, pinching and pulling, bringing you right back to the edge.  

Seungmin slides his other hand between your legs, and your body starts to convulse. You can’t control any of the sounds coming out of your mouth - a mix of their names, moans, curses. Your climax overwhelms you. As you shake and move with each slam of Seungmin’s hips, but barely hear Hyunjin’s “fuck” as thick spirts of cum land on your chest and face. It spurs you on; you do your best to stick out your tongue, to catch as much as you can. 

Another “fuck” sounds as you feel Seungmin’s hips stutter to a stop. His grip on your hair loosens, and you barely manage to keep yourself from face planting into Hyunjin’s lap. Your body is nearly spent, finally coming down from what may have been the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Seungmin pulls out and flops down on his side next to you, breathing heavily with a relaxed smile on his face. “You look so pretty with Jinnie all over you.”

He rolls over to grab wet wipes while Hyunjin encourages you to flip over and sit up. After Seungmin cleans you both up, Hyunjin pulls you back to lean against him. You stay like that for a few moments, before dressing and snuggling back up on the couch to watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, you and Seungmin walk hand in hand out of the dorm, passing Minho and Jeongin on their way in. Minho shoots you a wink and a look that makes you feel like he’s telling you that he’s next… and you can’t wait.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Part II Here

[hazelnutsforellie]

i was all over her | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— you and ellie are best friends, first year college roommates that never separated. when a friend asks for your help in making her ex jealous, you succeed... and seem to smash not one, but two hearts with one singular kiss.

WARNINGS— NSFW, smut [18+], mutual pining, sexual tension, college!au, alcohol use, explicit marijuana use/handling(?), jealous/protective ellie, ellie having dirty thoughts about you, ellie masturbating, hints of angst & fluff, kinda proofread.

WC— 7.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— thank you so much for 1k!! consider this a gift from me ♡ this is part one to a potential multi-part series... please feel free to leave feedback!! (also, stream i was all over her by salvia palth)

Soft footsteps mixed with whispers and the flicking of musky pages filled your ears while your eyes scanned the directory signs in the library. You were looking for a particular genre, your eyes jumping from the signs to Dina as she continued on about how Gentoo penguins use pebbles to propose to their girlfriends.

"I just think... if someone proposed to me like that, I wouldn't mind as long as their heart's there," Dina joked, causing you to playfully roll your eyes as you slowed in front of a large bookshelf. You needed a particular book for your world history course, your eyes scanning the titles as you responded.

"Well aren't you a hopeless romantic?" you quirked back, your eyes creasing as you softly laughed. You often found yourself hanging with Dina during the day, mainly due to you having classes together.

You shared more classes with Dina than Ellie did, but you weren't close with her like you were with Ellie, your best friend since the start of freshman year. Naturally, because you and Ellie had different majors, you found yourselves in different buildings during the day. While apart, your time was spent with Dina more often.

"You should come to this party later tonight," Dina said in a low tone to avoid disrupting near students as you pulled the book you wanted from the shelf, examining the cover. "Jesse might be there... I'd like to have you there."

You quirked a brow at her, knowing of her ex boyfriend Jesse. You've spoken to him numerous times, and you thought he was a cool guy. You felt the buzz of your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants, causing you to instinctively pull it out as your eyes shifted to Dina's face.

"I'm interested, but why do you want me there because of Jesse?" you raised a brow before glancing down at your phone screen.

Ellie: told kyle i'd meet at his party tn. you in?

"Who is it?" Dina whispered, glancing from the side of your phone to your face.

"Ellie. Whose party is it?" you asked quickly.

"Kyle's," Dina quickly answered, to which you nodded in understanding. It wasn't a surprise. Kyle was a cool dude and often had chill parties.

Ellie: doesn't matter. already told him im going so

Ellie: you are too.

Despite Ellie being your best friend, little things about her made your stomach twist in tingly knots. You loved how audacious she was, clearly taking the leading role in your friendship. Other than that, your feelings for her controlled your reactions as well.

"Looks like I'm already going," you sighed, tucking your phone back in your pocket before completely facing her. "But seriously... Are you wanting to avoid Jesse, or something?"

"Sh!" she whisper shouted, suddenly becoming nervous that someone could hear you say his name. "You're being loud."

"I'm whispering," you whisper-shouted defensively, causing Dina to playfully roll her eyes.

"I want to make him jealous," Dina admitted, a tiny smirk tugging the corner of her lips.

"Seriously?" you scoffed as the two of you made your way over to the counter, passing a few students studying with earbuds in on the way.

"Don't you think that's a little... I don't know... toxic?" you asked, unsure whether she saw it that way.

"Oh c'mon," Dina drew out, softly nudging your arm. "It's harmless. It's up to him if he wants to make a move."

"Or you could stop being stubborn?" you suggested with raised brows, nearly making Dina's jaw drop. Since you didn't receive a response, you pushed. "So.. what? You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something?"

"Not girlfriend, per se. More like... arm candy," Dina smirked, slightly spinning on her heel as she spoke. She seemed a little nervous to ask you, despite her outgoing personality. She gave you flirty eyes, the same eyes you fail to say no to every time. Sure, you thought Dina was cute, but you didn't have feelings for her. She was your friend, one that seemed to be too convincing at times.

A sigh puffed past your lips as you walked up to the counter, giving Dina one last glance before greeting the cashier. Dina's soft smile never went away as you checked the book out, and she was hot on your heels as the two of you left the bookstore with her shiny puppy eyes.

"Fuck, fine. I'll probably show up with Ellie, though," you explained, your shoes padding against the concrete as you walked alongside her, toward your next class. Dina softly squealed in excitement, thanking you before splitting off.

The rest of your day was a lot less exciting than what awaited you in the later hours. You felt a little anxious, but it was just for one reason. Your best friend.

Upon unlocking the door to your dorm and pushing it open, you saw Ellie sitting on your shared couch, manspreading to reach the coffee table. The various sidelamps and hanging lights illuminated the space. You both had a slight hatred for big room lights, your choice in smaller ones giving the space a comforting aura. There was enough light for you to pick up on the outfit she'd chosen for the party. Jeans, and a blue and white button down with a white wifebeater underneath. Her sleeves were rolled up just below her elbows, exposing her tattoo to wondering eyes. She drove you insane, in a good way.

Ellie's fingers were tending to the weed she was preparing to sell at the party, sizing bags as she'd summarize to you. Your best friend was also your roommate, and since she was a rather-lowkey dealer on campus, it wasn't a surprise to walk in and see her with the bud between her fingers.

"Hey," you greeted her with a small smile as you closed the door, locking it behind you as you both usually would. Ellie's attention had already snapped off her task, her bright green eyes meeting yours as you entered. She greeted you back with a smile, her eyes never leaving your face as her hands continued to work. Upon fully entering, you were blanketed in the slight smell of weed (of course) and a lit candle, sniffing and humming in satisfaction before questioning. "Is that cedar?"

"Yeah, it is. Smells good, doesn't it? Did you find what you were looking for?" Ellie inquired a rhetorical question before asking a real one, knowing you were going to the library for a particular book for class.

"Yeah," you sighed, kicking your shoes off by the door. You slipped your backpack off your shoulders, letting it rest on the floor next to the couch before sitting down beside her. "Dina went with me, and she also invited me to Kyle's party."

You didn't bother waiting before just airing it out, wanting to figure out the plan for the night. What you couldn't ignore, though, was how good Ellie smelled. She had hints of musk, spice, and fruits. She tended to switch between scents, but above them all, you could smell her. Ellie had her own scent, and it comforted you to no end. After a fresh shower, it was overwhelming. It was as if the atmosphere was blanketed with the smell of her. You loved it, really.

"She did?" Ellie asked, her eyebrows raising as she sealed a baggie closed before tossing it to a pile of various baggies of the same size.

"Yeah," you sighed again as you placed your water bottle you'd been holding onto the coffee table, making Ellie quirk a brow before a smile began to break on her lips.

"What happened?" Ellie laughed, suddenly becoming nervous as she wiped her hands on her knees, turning her head in your direction as you sunk into the couch beside her.

"Dina wants to make Jesse jealous," you explained, crossing your legs in your lap. "She asked me to help her."

"What does that mean?" Ellie asked, to which you shrugged.

"I don't know, but I said yes," you admitted.

"You what?" Ellie's eyebrows were knit together, her attention suddenly fully on you. Her hands halted from where she was pulling apart nuggets of weed. You watched as her back suddenly straightened after hunching toward the coffee table.

"I couldn't say no! She did the eyes," you frowned, making Ellie roll her own.

"I mean, how bad could it really be?" you defended, watching Ellie's fingers as she pinched weed onto the paper between her fingers, rolling a new joint despite the small pile of prerolls just inches from her slender hands. "If anything, just touching her hip in front of him would be enough."

"So..." Ellie trailed off, realizing that you had most likely agreed to arrive with Dina.

"Yes, we're picking her up," you confirmed what Ellie was thinking. "You didn't give me an option to come to the party, so I figured it'd be fine."

"You were already going!"

"You didn't know that!" you shot back, both of you having cheeky smiles plastered. Ellie didn't mind it, she did mind the task you had at hand, though. She had to admit that the thought of Dina using you to make someone jealous would only have the same effect on her.

Ellie couldn't bring herself to tell you that she didn't like the idea, ultimately ending the conversation as she brought the joint she was rolling to her lips, and you could feel your chest begin to tighten. No matter how many times you've seen it, it continues to have the same effect on you every single time.

You openly watched as she dragged her tongue across the top to seal the joint, and she knew you were watching despite her eyes tracking the paper. You always did, it wasn't new. She just wondered what you were thinking. And oh boy, you hoped she wouldn't realize.

"We have enough time to smoke a little before we go. You game?" Ellie suggested with raised brows as she finished sealing the joint. You knew Ellie had a high tolerance, and that the offer was merely for you. The idea of being a little high when you get to the party put you at ease. You'd hoped you'd feel relaxed in helping Dina.

"Definitely," you replied, sitting up from your slouched position against the couch. Ellie smiled with a nod, reaching into her jean pocket to retrieve her lighter. She then tucked the joint between her lips, sparking the lighter to allow the flame to burn the edge of the joint a bright orange.

Immediately, you were wafted with the smell of it, the familiar smell of herbs, wood, and a slight hint of plum invading your senses.

"Mm," you hummed, watching the smoke escape through Ellie's nose as she passed the joint to you. Her eyes flickered to yours from as you accepted it, lifting it to your lips to pull a drag. You nodded in satisfaction, the taste being familiarly smooth.

"Do you plan to sell a lot at the party?" you asked breathlessly before exhaling the smoke, watching as Ellie reached for your water bottle on the coffee table, handing it to you. She knew you always wanted to have a drink on you when you smoked, the light gesture causing butterflies to swarm in your belly. You accepted it from her as you passed the joint back to her, thanking her before taking a sip from it.

Ellie shrugged as she took a drag from the joint. You watched her face slightly scrunch and her eyes narrow as she stared at the tip of the joint.

Fuck, you thought. You wanted to clench your thighs together, the weed instantly making its way to your core. You knew you couldn't make a move, you were afraid. You had to suffer every single night. Everything you could imagine in a smoking interaction, you've seen it. Her tongue, her eyes, her smirks. It was all too much sometimes, and you'd have to go to bed early.

Ellie passed the joint back to you, to which you accepted before taking a rather-large hit. Ellie's eyebrows raised as she eyed your water bottle, noticing you had added one sticker to it after leaving it bare for so long. A sticker Dina had given you. Why that made Ellie jealous, she wasn't sure.

"A few kids are gonna be there that wanna buy," Ellie finally explained. "We're gonna make a few stops on the way, though."

"Should we leave soon then?" you asked.

"Err," she grumbled, pulling her phone out of her back jean pocket to check the time. "Yeah, probably."

You took one last hit of the joint, Ellie's bright eyes meeting your glossy ones as you finished inhaling, allowing her to take it to finish it off. You then lifted yourself off the back of the couch to prepare to stand, grabbing your water bottle as did so, her eyes remaining on yours eyes she lifted the joint to her lips. The prolonged eye contact had begun swirling more feelings than you'd like to admit, and you needed to avert your attention elsewhere.

"Are you changing?" Ellie asked, eyeing your sweatpants but mainly your ass as you stood up.

"What? Are these not hot?" you joked, turning around to motion toward them with silly jazz hands, causing Ellie to roll her eyes in response and take another hit of the joint, her eyes flicking right back on you as she sucked the smoke into her lungs. You sighed, muttering a drawn-out whatever under your breath as you made your way to your bedroom, which was right next to Ellie's.

Of course your sweatpants are hot. Everything you wear is hot, in Ellie's opinion. Ellie wanted to, but she couldn't stop her eyes from following you as you shuffled toward your bedroom. One thing Ellie couldn't control was her obsession with staring at you, watching you. Her stare was soft, sometimes hungry... but it was in admiration. Upon entering your room, you had decided to change into a comfortable pair of jeans, since you knew it was a somewhat casual party to begin with.

It wasn't long before you were in the passenger seat of her car, controlling the music from your phone as Ellie made various drop-offs. You remained quiet in your seat, greeting people you knew and ignoring those you didn't. Ellie chose which customers to deliver to wisely, not wanting particular people to see you, or try and spark a conversation. She chose the ones she clearly intimidated, and with some spots, she would even get out of the car to avoid them paying any attention to you. Some of her customers were frat boys, and although Ellie couldn't stand them, she needed someone to give less-favorable stuff to. She knew a cocky jock when she saw one, and that's when she would step out of the car. She didn't want to hear their pathetic attempts to bring you into the conversation, knowing well that you had zero interest to begin with.

She tried to hide it, but she was protective. She was cautious of who you were around, all the time, and you couldn't help but feel like she was attempting to shield you. You didn't mind it, though, hence why you never cared to mention it.

As Ellie was finishing up her last deal, her back was against her driver's side window, the only thing you could see being the back of her blue and white button up. You could hear her voice faintly, a deep chuckle leaving her lips before you heard her tug on the door handle, saying her farewells and slipping back into the car.

"Alright, you ready to get Dina? Is she ready?" Ellie asked, shifting the gear from park to drive with her right hand while her left remained on the wheel. Your eyes flickered from her slider hands back to your phone.

"I'll message her," you said, clicking her contact and texting her.

You: we're otw. ellie's driving

Dina: ofc she is. when is the last time you ever drove?

You: wtf i drive sometimes

Dina: LOL since when

Dina: passenger princess.

You scoffed with a laugh, pressing the power button on your phone to lock it before dropping it in your lap. When you arrived to Dina's place, Ellie rolled her window down to greet the girl, with you tilting your head to see her over Ellie's shoulder, waving her to the car. It was a cute sight that Dina would chuckle to herself about.

It wasn't long before you arrived to the party with Dina alongside you and Ellie behind you. Ellie planned to separate from you two shortly after entering, wanting to get her deals over with so she could find someplace to sit. Ellie wasn't much of a... partier. She preferred sitting or standing off to the side, her eyes wondering around her surroundings, and opening dealing from where she sat the entire night.

Most the time though, unbeknownst to you, she would watch you. She would watch you for multiple reasons, one being to purely take your appearance in and appreciate it. What else is a girl to do that's pining for her best friend? Instead of trying the numerous girls attempting to get in her pants by buying from her, her attention is completely taken over by her best friend.

Shortly after entering the house, you and Dina were immediately welcomed by fellow friends. The house was cutely decorated, surprisingly, with string lights hanging off the ceiling.

"Is there a theme?" you wondered near Dina's ear, not getting the memo for the party as Ellie continued to walk behind the two of you, her eyes scanning the house. You continued, "Because I really hope not... I'm wearing jeans."

"No idea," Dina answered loud enough for you to hear over the music. It wasn't blaring, but it was loud enough to make talking difficult. "Kyle shares his place with his sister, they rent together, or something. She probably decorated it."

"I'll be right back," Ellie told you with raised brows, waiting for you to nod in understanding before she left to find Kyle, you assumed. You averted your attention back to Dina, whose eyes were glued to something else, or rather someone else. Jesse was standing off, speaking to another girl. Funny how he was so easy to spot, but it was damning for Dina.

Dina grabbed your wrist, and before you could say anything, you were being dragged toward the bar to get drinks. Dina settled on a vodka cranberry, deciding to make you the same thing. Eventually, after lots of small talk, you and Dina were in the living room, sitting on the couch with a few other strangers, surrounding the coffee table.

You learned their names upon greeting, but the alcohol coursing through everyone's veins had them rather comfortable and giggly. You were playing truth or drink, and you just so happened to choose drink more than truth. You couldn't think of a lie on the spot for some of the personal questions, wanting to avoid mentioning Ellie's name, especially in front of Dina. After what felt like an hour, the auburn returned.

"Hey," you heard a familiar raspy voice from behind you turning your head to see Ellie behind the couch, looking down at you and Dina. Ellie's eyes nearly widened when she noticed the empty bottles on the coffee table.

"Oh, Ellie! Sit down," Dina urged before you could, to which Ellie obliged, taking a seat beside you on the couch. Why would she turn down the opportunity to stick by you?

"Don't mind if I do," Ellie replied, already wanting to sit and relax until you decided to leave. The party was rather calm besides the fairly large dining room, which was cleared to be a dance floor. Everyone was calmly drinking on one side, or loudly playing party games on the other.

Ellie lightly lifted her hips, your eyes unintentionally watching as she lifted her ass to retrieve a lighter and rolled joint from her pocket, not wanting to smash it. Ellie lifted the joint to her lips, sparking the lighter.

"Is this your girlfriend?" one of the girls asked you with a bright smile, you couldn't remember her name, but she was more than gone. Ellie's eyes shifted from the tip of the joint to the girl, the flame continuing to burn the tip until you cleared your throat.

"Oh, no. This is Ellie, the roommate," you explained with a gentle tilt of your head toward the green eyed girl. You had told them a funny story or two about Ellie while she was gone, nothing that would give Dina any suspicions of your feelings. You'd thought about telling Dina you liked Ellie, being good friends and all. It seemed as if you were just more afraid to admit it to yourself, preferring to ignore it and enjoy what you have.

"Oh, your roommate," she smirked, playfully wiggling her eyebrows at you and Ellie. A teasing smile began to tug the corner of Ellie's lips as she exhaled the smoke, glancing over at you.

"Not like that," you laughed, which secretly struck Ellie. You were telling the truth, she understood that, but she wished it was like that.

"Haven't I sold to you before?" Ellie asked, motioning toward the girl with her hand that still had the joint between her index and middle finger. She found the girl fairly familiar, not that it mattered.

"I'm trashed," the girl answered honestly with a flirty smile. "I have no idea right now, but..."

The girl's eyes trailed Ellie from head to toe, and she clearly seemed pleased, "Most likely."

Ellie's eyebrows lifted gently before she brought the joint back to her lips, unintentionally flirting with the girl. Ellie had an effect, that was true. One glance or smile had you convinced you were on her mind. It left you craving her attention, but since you were her best friend, you had it often.

Dina held back a gasp as she took a sip of her mixed drink, her eyes glancing up to the dance floor across the large room. She managed to spot Jesse dancing, but with who, she couldn't tell.

"You want a hit?" Ellie murmured to you, leaning closer to offer you the joint.

You accepted it with your left hand, placing it between your lips. Ellie's eyes immediately began to search for a drink you had on you, noticing the empty cup in your right hand.

"I'm gonna go get a drink, want something?" Ellie asked, instinctively offering as she knew you liked having a drink when you smoked. Though, she also just liked getting drinks for you.

"Sure, thanks," you nodded with a small smile after you exhaled, keeping the joint between your fingers as Ellie got up from her spot, the girls on the couch across from you and Dina going on and on about their own conversation, too drunk to pay attention to you and Ellie's smiles and Dina's longing eyes at Jesse on the dance floor.

Just as you pulled another drag, Dina grabbed your right hand, pulling you up to your feet. She began tugging you toward the dance floor as you laughed, passing Ellie at the bar on the way.

"Hey!" Ellie tried to call out for you as she watched Dina drag you to the dance floor with her joint between your lips. Ellie nearly overfilled the cup of water she was preparing for you, getting caught up in seeing you jog away. She hissed, feeling the cool water run over her bare hand. She then placed the cup of water on the bar top before beginning to make her own drink.

After getting a glass of whiskey, she turned around and pressed her back against the bar as her eyes quickly found you. She watched as Dina spun you around, your usual cheeky smile spread across your lips. Ellie began to feel as if the scene was in slow motion, her thoughts turning vulgar before she could take a second glance at you. The music was catchy, though it was nearly muffled to Ellie's ears since her eyes found you. Despite numerous pairs dancing together in the same room, Ellie managed to spot you. She always could.

Ellie smirked as she sipped her drink, watching you dance with Dina. She couldn't control her mind from wandering as her eyes scanned your body, the alcohol taking its course in her blood. She was completely immersed in you.

No, Ellie, she thought to herself as she finished sipping her drink, a small smile on her lips as she swallowed. She couldn't stop her lips from curling into their form as she caved, her thoughts taking a turn as you continued to dance. Sure, Ellie wanted to be in Dina's place, but the sight before her was something else.

She visualized you underneath her, looking up at her with your usual doe eyes you'd use when you wanted Ellie to do something for you.

"Please, Ellie," she imagined you whimpering, never losing eye contact as she kissed down your chest, between your breasts, then lower, and lower.

Ellie's tongue darted to swipe against her lips in a swift horizontal motion, the icy burn of the alcohol cooling against her tongue. She took another small swig, her eyes glancing back up at you after leaving for a split second to check the glass.

"Fuck, just like that," she imagined you moaning, the thought nearly sending shockwaves from Ellie's spine to her core. Sure, Ellie had heard you moan before, on occasions you thought she was asleep and you would release your own tension. You knew the walls were thin, but not that thin. Ellie wouldn't admit it to you, not wanting to embarrass you but also because she... liked hearing it. Ellie swallowed her whiskey thickly, feeling the coolness of the alcohol drill down her throat. She shook her head to herself, shaking the dirty thoughts out of her mind as she watched Dina bend you backward, your back bending enough to make Ellie choke down a groan. Oh, to be the one doing that to you.

Dina then pulled you back up, your face just inches from hers and that's when Ellie noticed Jesse looking from the sidelines as well. Ellie smirked to herself and glanced to the floor, thinking that Dina's plan was working, and she'd secretly hoped she wouldn't have to take Dina home since it was already late enough. Just as Ellie glanced back up to you, she saw Dina lean into you, her hands on your cheeks, and then it happened.

Dina kissed you. You weren't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the heat of the moment, but her lips were planted directly onto yours either way. Both Ellie and Jesse saw at the exact same time, all movements in their bodies tensing. As much as Ellie wanted to instantly convince herself it was part of the plan, she couldn't control the burning jealousy that began to boil in her stomach.

Although Ellie hoped it was part of the plan, she hated it. She didn't consider how it would feel to witness someone else kissing you, no matter the context. Since it wasn't her, it hurt, even though it shouldn't have. That is when Ellie realized you could have anyone you wanted. Ellie placed her glass of whiskey on the bar top, which was barely sipped on. Her eyes met yours one last time before she made her way out of the dining room.

You watched as Ellie made her way out of the room, a displeased look painting her face as her eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. You didn't understand what suddenly snapped, causing Ellie to storm off after meeting eyes for one mere second after the kiss. In fact, you began to grow a little nervous. She knew it was part of Dina's silly scheme, but you couldn't help but regret it as the auburn disappeared from sight.

"Do you think that worked?" Dina asked you as her back faced Jesse, her big eyes looking at yours as you looked past her to find him. He was staring, and finishing his beer.

"Oh yeah," you answered with a nod, looking back at her. "Is this where you leave me?"

Dina smiled, pulling you into one last embrace. She gave you a small wink before making her way out of the dining room, Jesse following shortly after. You stood alone in the loud room, your drunken eyes scanning the area for your best friend.

Ellie found a small bathroom to slip into, locking the door behind her. The music and loud chattering was instantly muffled, allowing Ellie to let out a huff of relief. She glanced at herself in the mirror, letting out a long sigh at the sight of her slightly hooded eyes. She knew she had to drive soon, and despite not feeling any sort of high, she still looked the part.

Ellie leaned forward and twisted the faucet on, the cool water shooting out against her slender hands. She cupped her hands to collect the water before splashing her face numerous times. She didn't like how she felt, angry. Jealous. She wouldn't admit it if you asked, that's for sure.

"Fuck," Ellie cursed to herself as she twisted the faucet off, wiping off the leftover droplets that remained on her cheeks and chin. She then hissed to herself, "You're being stupid, Ellie."

To pine after your best friend is one thing, but to get overwhelmingly jealous when you see them kiss someone else? That's a slight issue.

The door handle to the bathroom began to rattle, nearly making Ellie jump out of her skin. Ellie quickly unlocked it, no longer needing the bathroom anyway. Her green orbs nearly popped out when she was met with Dina and Jesse on the other side of the hallow door.

"Wha... you know what? I won't ask. Where is she?" Ellie asked Dina, knowing Dina would know who she was talking about.

"Still dancing, I think," Dina said with a smile, looking back up at Jesse as she was overcome with their sudden reformation. Ellie awkwardly stepped out of the bathroom, allowing Dina and Jesse to take the room as she searched the house for you.

After not spotting you in the dining room, she began to have a slight internal panic. Ellie found her way back in the living room, spotting the same girls you were hanging out with before Dina pulled you out to dance.

"Have any of you seen the girl I came with?"

"Oh, your roommate?" one girl teased, nearly making Ellie roll her eyes. "I think she went outside. Looked like she was ready to fall asleep."

Ellie took that as her sign to bolt to the front door, exiting the house. She quickly spotted you next to her car, leaning against the side of the hood with your arms folded over your chest. You looked exhausted, your eyes nearly closed as you hummed a tune.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," Ellie quickly apologized as she approached you, fumbling through her pocket to retrieve her car keys. You blinked, still conscious as Ellie pulled your door open in front of you. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm, I want to go home," you murmured, beyond consumed by exhaustion and the alcohol that continued to make your head spin. You quietly thanked her as you got into the car, Ellie closing the door after you were fully inside. You sunk into the comfortable seat while you lazily buckled yourself, your eyes hanging half-open, threatening to close. You were drunk, but not incapable of simple tasks.

"It's really cold," you softly whined, wrapping your arms around yourself as Ellie slipped into the car. Ellie shoved the key into the ignition, starting the car to get the heat going for you. She then buckled, her arms flexing as she tightened the strap over her chest, glancing over at you to make sure yours was on as well.

"We'll be home soon," Ellie assured you kindly, shifting the gear to drive. You were afraid you had upset Ellie, remembering how upset she looked after Dina kissed you. You weren't sure why, but you had the feeling Ellie had feelings for Dina, wishing it was her instead. Your mind ran and that's when you found yourself outside, waiting on Ellie to go home.

The entire way back to your dorm, Ellie would take occasional glances at your sleeping form. Her left elbow was pressed against her door, her right hand resting on the top of the wheel as she leaned against the door. You were fast asleep soon after the car started, curled into a ball in Ellie's direction. It allowed her to easily catch a glimpse of your face to make sure you were still okay, and to admire.

Ellie was aware of her obsession with staring at you. She couldn't help it, you were gorgeous. She learned every crevice and mark on your skin, the way your lashes would relax against your cheeks.

You entire walk to your dorm from the car, Ellie's hand was gently resting on your middle back, guiding you until you reached your door, her hand then moving to your lower back as she used her other hand to search her pocket for her keys. Ellie was used to taking care of you like this — making sure you wouldn't fall over, exactly.

"I'm fine, Ellie," you'd murmur, though she'd ignore it, since you have indeed fallen on her or the floor numerous times. She managed to swiftly unlock the door and guide you inside, pulling the keys out of the lock with her other hand, then closing the door behind her with her heel. Ellie felt thankful for her tolerance, feeling completely sober as she walked close behind you to your bedroom, stopping in your doorway as you kicked your shoes off.

"You don't have to babysit me," you tiredly slurred, nearly tripping as your hands landed on your bed, using it to stabilize yourself for a moment, a sudden swirl of dizziness finding its way behind your eyes.

"You sure?" Ellie asked, stepping inside your room to help you onto your bed. "C'mon, I got 'ya."

Ellie gently grabbed your forearm, her eyes glancing to your face before guiding you onto the bed. You plopped down rather harshly, sinking into the middle of your bed as Ellie pulled your blankets over your frame. She wanted to tuck you in but she didn't want to be weird with the state you were in, so she merely made sure your entire body was covered, excluding your face.

"Thank you," you murmured with your eyes closed, causing Ellie to smile as her eyes trailed from your eyelids to your nose. She was leaned to your level from covering you, instantly smelling the liquor from your lips, as well as the sweet smell of just you.

"Anytime," she smiled as she leaned back up, taking just one step away to leave until you spoke.

"Are you not sleeping with me?" you whined, reaching to gently tug on her button down, fully expecting Ellie to stay with you during your drunken state. Ellie smiled from how bold you've always been with your words when you were drunk, though they were respectful.

"I want to smoke a little bit," Ellie chuckled at your neediness. Sure, being your best friend and all, she became accustomed to your occasional need for affection, and sleeping in the same bed was one of them. 

"Will you come in after?"

"Maybe," Ellie joked, making her way toward your bedroom door after you released your grip from her shirt.

"Please?" you whined, lightly slurring as you fell into a slumber.

The sound made Ellie want to say fuck it and lay down with you right then and there. She could've sworn she felt her knees quiver, her breath halting as her hand froze on the door handle. It was obvious you were dozing off, if not already sleep talking. Ellie realized you were asleep and quietly snuck out of the room, leaving the door cracked before heading for the couch.

As she sat on her side of the couch in the quiet living area, Ellie could smell the leftover lingering of your perfume, instinctively making her grin to herself. She grabbed a pre rolled joint off the coffee table, something she needed to stop leaving out so carelessly. Lighting the joint for herself, she thought about the party and her reaction. She remembered meeting your eyes for that one moment before she left. She didn't want to leave that way. She was angry, and she hated she was. She hoped you'd forget about it... not want to talk about it.

She was annoyed with herself for not being able to forget about it. She wanted to, she really did. Her mind began to wander as she tugged the smoke into her lungs, softly puffing it back out through her nose and mouth. She watched as it slowly crept toward the cracked windows beside the couch, which were always open, of course.

To avoid the thought of the kiss, she thought about what happened beforehand. The way you were dancing, your beautiful smile, all of it was too much for Ellie to ignore. She couldn't stop the thoughts from running, the rather-dirty thoughts that would lead her to shiver in her seat in desperation.

"Fuck," Ellie grumbled to herself, feeling herself growing wet at the memory. Your smile and the way your back arched was something different. The weed was surely enhancing her arousal, and she quickly got lost in thought about you, sinking into the couch, laying across it as she continued to puff on the joint.

The overwhelming tension in Ellie's heart corresponded with her core, a desperate need for you in particular. She couldn't help herself as her left hand brought the joint back to her lips before she used both to begin unbuttoning her jeans. She needed to release at least a little bit of tension.

Her mind began to wander, instantly picturing you. She wouldn't admit it to your face, but she used her imagination a lot. A lot. She felt wrong... naughty, even. She would be blatantly lying if she told you she had never thought about you while touching herself from being so smitten, but also because she heard you before. She knew what you sounded like when you were making yourself feel good.

Picturing you back on the dance floor and the way she could see the crevices of your neck, the way you smiled as you spun— it drove her mad. She wished she could've been in Dina's place. Once Ellie had pushed her jeans off her hips just enough to give herself comfortable access, her right hand instantly found its way underneath the band of her underwear, her cold fingertips making contact with her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her index finger and thumb of her left hand pinched the joint, pulling it from her lips after she took a long drag, her eyes fluttering shut as her head fell back against the couch.

"F-fuck," Ellie muttered under her breath, nearly sounding like a gasp for air, the sensation sending pleasureful waves through her core as her high only intensified it. She thought about how you'd watch her when she was licking a joint or a blunt when she'd roll. She would notice the way your legs would twitch in the slightest, the way your lips would part ever so slightly. Ellie wouldn't watch you the whole time, of course, because you were watching her. She had good peripheral vision, though, and she took note of everything she could. She always has.

Her fingers then dipped down to her folds, tenderly swirling her own arousal on her fingertips before pulling them back to her swollen clit. Ellie pleasuring herself is a sight, one that no one ever had the chance to see. It was shameful, for if you were to accidentally walk in, you wouldn't know what to do. You would stop in place, your eyes locked on her. She'd thought about the situation before, and had admitted to herself that she would want you to watch.

She just wanted you. In any way she could. She couldn't deny the way she would feel herself grow more and more soaked at the thought of you begging for her.

Please, you had whined. Maybe you intended to make her feel that way, maybe you didn't. Either way, the thought of you begging as she teased you, the sexual tension she had built up over time was astounding. It's a wonder how she never caved, but it was for one thing only. She wanted more than that with you, and the thought of risking your friendship was unbearable.

"Shit," Ellie whimpered under her breath. She wanted to hear you beg for her, but at the same time, she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold herself back from pleasing you the moment you'd ask. She was so distracted with pleasuring herself, the joint was seconds away from slipping between her fingers.

She suddenly brought it to her lips to take a hit, muffling her own moans for a moment as she pictured herself above you, peppering kisses on the pretty, delicate skin of your neck. Ellie imagined saying various things to you, things she would be mortified to admit. It was almost as if she could hear the sounds of your moans, echoing in the back of her mind as she recollected the memory. She wanted to know what you felt like, tasted like, truly sounded like. Ellie knew she could make you feel good, having an internal battle with herself whenever she heard you pleasuring yourself, your soft moans bouncing against the thin walls. You wouldn't say anything besides a string or curses, and Ellie would never tell you that she hoped to hear her name.

"O-oh.. f-f..fuck!" Ellie whisper-shouted, followed by a harsh grunt as Ellie pressed her left forearm against her mouth, careful to avoid burning herself with the joint. She muffled her moans as soon as her peak crashed, her shoulders shuddering and her thighs clamping together, locking her own hand against her soaked cunt.

Ellie laid in the same position for a moment, allowing her muscles to relax as she caught her breath, lowering her arm from her face to glance at the joint. The ash was gone, and Ellie's heart thumped in her chest. She glanced to the side, an obvious burn mark in the couch just inches from Ellie's view.

"Oh, fuck," Ellie groaned, pulling her hand from between her legs to sit up. She tapped the edge of the joint against the center of the ashtray that sat on the coffee table before leaving the joint in it. She then stood up, rather comically, as she nearly fell over from the sudden weight on her feet.

She turned around to face the couch again, her eyes landing on the burn mark in the couch as she buttoned her jeans. She didn't think you would be upset, since it was Ellie's couch, but she wasn't sure how she was going to explain the cause. She reached to scratch the nape of her neck, too exhausted to finish the joint let alone worry about a cover story.

Although you begged her to lay down with you after she finished smoking, the sight before caused a gentle chuckle to erupt in Ellie's throat. Upon gently pushing open your cracked door, she saw you completely sprawled across your bed with zero room for her to join you. She shook her head to herself, unable to control her lips from curling into a small smile as she pulled the door back to its previous position.

Ellie stood outside your door for a moment, letting a soft sigh escape her lips before she turned on her heel and pushed open her own bedroom door, right across from yours. She was thankful you were asleep, unable to question her own inability to sleep as she laid in her bed, eyes open as she watched the city life outside her window beside her. It wasn't often that she would stay up, unable to fall asleep despite feeling such exhaustion.

Ellie was many things, and an overthinker was one of them. She couldn't help but wonder how you felt when Dina kissed you.

It was just part of the plan, Ellie thought over and over again.

Ellie was afraid that if she didn't consider Dina a friend of her own, she would have acted a lot differently. Over the time Ellie has known you, she never witnessed you kiss another person until Dina kissed you, and she had never prepared herself for the sight. The sight of you kissing someone else, no matter the reason. It struck her, and she knew she couldn't tell you. She just hoped you wouldn't question her for her reaction.

TAGLIST @kurosaaki @prrimordiais @bellswlw @rxllingstones @coeurify @dergy @elliesstar @elliephobic

[msgexymunson]

Forbidden Fruit Part 5

Description: the situation has come to a head, and you prepare to run off into the sunset with Eddie. But, will you be able to come back? 

A/N: so, this 'one shot' turned into a 5 part freakin' torrid romance! Thank you guys for the support! This is the final part, I hope you enjoy it. Remember, I live for your reblogs and comments, I need them like Tinkerbell needs claps. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Minors DNI this ain't for you! Dom Eddie, Fem reader, age gap, reader 21 Eddie early 40s, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (that's how you make babies) anal (that's NOT how you make babies), eloping, spit play, like one spank, parental confrontations, angst with happy ending.

7.5k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Is this even happening right now? 

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the figure in front of you. He looks frantic, eyes wide and a little wild, hairs flying free from the low bun on his head. The mark your father gifted him has blossomed on his eye; it's a little swollen, glowing with a flesh flower of purple and yellow.

"How did you even get in-" 

"Oh, your Dad forgot he gave me a spare key. I saw your mom leave. I've been waiting for days, your house has been like fuckin' Alcatraz." 

You nod, fully aware of how crazy it's gotten.

"Eddie… Vegas?" You say, reaching for his face with a soft touch. Wincing, he holds your hand with his, enveloping it as he brushes his lips against your fingers sending a shiver up your spine. 

"Listen. The weekend we had, all I could think was that I wanted it to be real. Every time I heard Mr and Mrs Munson, it fucking hurt." He looks away briefly; it's like this is difficult to admit. You wait patiently, hand still in his. 

"I- I love you sweetheart." Gaze back on yours, his eyes are soft and glassy. 

"I love you too, so much. But Eddie, you still haven't said. Vegas?" Prompting again, your heart in your throat, airway constricted with feelings. You know what he's saying, but you want him to say it. You need him to say it. 

"I wanna marry you sweetheart. I want… no, I need to wake up with you every day, in my arms. If you'll have me?" Large hands find your waist, holding you in front of him as you look into his bourbon whiskey eyes. 

"Yes. I'll have you." Grinning like an idiot, you wrap your arms around his neck, the gesture so natural and right it brings tears to your eyes. The kiss you share is soft, but brief. 

"As much as I want to just hold you right now, we need to go, in case you're widowed before we even get hitched." He's chuckling, but the edge of nerves is prominent in his voice. 

"OK, gimme like five minutes." 

Never has a duffel bag been filled so fast. Clothes, underwear, shoes, toothbrush; you're not even sure what you've packed, but the bag is full, so that will have to do. Eddie grabs the bag as if it's weightless and throws it on his shoulder, ushering you out with his hand on the small of your back. 

"Wait, I need to leave a note at least, otherwise he might call the police or something."

He might anyway, he's lost it. 

You scribble down that you've gone on a trip and you'll be back, so you can all talk about this like adults. That last part is underlined. Signing your name, you both hustle out of your house and into Eddie's waiting truck. 

As he drives away, the magnitude of what you're doing truly hits you. Is this what you want? You and Eddie, Mr and Mrs Munson, until death do you part? 

You steal a glance at Eddie whilst he's driving. His strong jaw, the spackling of day old stubble, his serious concentration face he wears when he's driving. Any doubts you have melt, disintegrating into those beautiful eyes. He's the one. He's always been the one. 

********************

Sunlight is dwindling, fading over the horizon slowly as you pull into a motel car park for the night. The room is… well, it's there. A bed and a bathroom, fitted with outdated decor that would look more at home in the 70's, including the lumpy mattress. It will do for now, merely a pit stop on the road. 

Flumping down onto the ancient mattress, a dust cloud fluffing up, you stretch your arms towards Eddie, making grabby hands at him. 

He laughs, dumping your bags before dramatically falling on top of you with all his weight. 

"Eddie, I'm dying…" you croak out in a feigned weak voice, shutting your eyes and allowing your tongue to loll out of your mouth. 

The drama is short lived however, as he runs the tip of his tongue over yours. 

"Eddie!" You admonish, "I'm trying to die here, stop making it sexy!" 

"Sweetheart, I can't help what turns you on." Smirking, he lands sloppy kisses on your mouth, all wet spit and smacking noises. 

"Baby, you animal, can we eat first?" 

"I was planning to." The kisses turn sultry, lips and nips trace up to your earlobe, sucking the skin in the way he knows you love. 

"Eddie…" a warning tone, but there's an obvious lack of bite. 

"OK, food. Gotcha." He's off you then, bouncing to his feet, leaving you breathing hard and heavy on the bed. 

Eddie knows. The grin he's wearing is sinful, but for once he doesn't tease you. All he does is grab leaflets for nearby places and gets you to choose. Settling on a nearby pizza place, a gentle kiss is perched on your forehead as he leaves to get your order. 

The grime that had gathered on you for the last few days is getting to you, so you take a long shower whilst he's gone. At the very least, the showers are hot. Basking under the steaming water, you rinse the dirt away and grab a less than fluffy towel from the rack, drying off. 

You slip on the silk robe you managed to bring and sit cross legged on the bed just in time to see Eddie hustle through the door. 

Eddie makes it inside, shutting the door behind him, moving with purpose. Until he sees you, that is. He staggers back dramatically then, as if he's about to faint. 

"Sweetheart, you expect me to eat whilst you're in that robe? How can I concentrate on food with you looking hotter than sin?" 

You smirk, tying it tighter around your body, perky nipples creating peaks in the fabric. 

"Give me my pizza and then you can have what you want." 

"Oh… might have to hold you to that" He smirks, passing you the take out boxes. 

You both sit and eat, drinking a couple of beers between you. The pizza is soon demolished and you lie back in lumpy pillows, sated and content. 

"So…do I get my dessert now? Please?" 

Eddie's raking over your form with hungry eyes, mentally stripping you bare of clothes with just one heated glance. A nod and he's on you, sucking a bruise so hard in your neck you fear it might be permanent. 

As he starts to run his tongue down your throat, you push him off with a little force that shocks him completely. 

"What's wrong? You OK?" He asks as he pulls away, deeply concerned by your actions. 

"We're getting married right? I forgot, I need something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue!" 

"Really?" He chuckles, looking at your panicked eyes, "right now?" 

"Yes! I mean, it's bad luck, isn't it? What if we get there and I don't have them, or what if-" 

"Stop. Just breathe sweetheart." His soulful eyes drill into yours, finding the calm and bringing it to the surface. You take a deep breath and squeeze his hands with yours. 

"OK. I mean, I've got something old, my birthstone ring, had it for as long as I can remember." As you speak you flash your hand at him, indicating the tiny band with the small sparkling stone set in it. 

Eddie plants a kiss over the top of it, setting your insides on fire. 

"Right, one down. As for something borrowed, you can always borrow this." 

He takes a small unassuming ring off his finger. It doesn't sit well with the rest, tarnished and old looking; what looks like a mood stone is set in the centre. Wordlessly he hands it to you. 

Turning it over in your hands, you look up at him with glistening eyes. 

"It was my moms." 

"It's really pretty." 

"So was she." 

Seems that's all the information he's willing to give. You try it on a couple of fingers before you settle on your thumb. 

"Hmm, tiny hands" He laughs, rubbing your palms with his thumbs. 

"So, what about-" 

"Listen. I was gonna wait for this, but if you need this now…" 

He gets up, striding toward his abandoned leather jacket and fishes around for a moment. Then, he's back, a small black ring box in his hand. 

"I was gonna do this in Vegas but-" 

Flipping it open, you see a dainty ring inside. A beautifully cut diamond nestled in the centre, surrounded by what appears to be a ring of rubies, set in a thin white gold band. 

"Eddie, what the- when?" You ask, a lump forming in your throat, constricting it with emotion. 

"The day after my little confession. It was wild I know, I thought I might have a chance to talk to you, talk to your dad, but he lost it and I… I panicked." He shrugs, like buying some expensive engagement ring is normal behaviour. 

"Eddie…" words escape you momentarily as you stare dumbfounded at Eddie. 

"Do you like it?" 

"Do I like it? It's like you pulled it out of my brain, it's gorgeous!" 

Eddie grins massively, slipping the ring out of the box and sliding it gently onto your ring finger. Surprisingly, it fits. Turning your hand this way and that, you watch the stones glimmer in the lamp light. Words cannot express the feelings churning through you as you watch the light refract from the diamond. 

"Eddie its too much-" 

"Nope. Not having it. It's for you, if anything it's not enough. You deserve, like- a herd of ponies and a private island or something." 

You laugh loudly, sheer joy overrunning all senses as you stare at the ring.

"So, you wanna tell me what this is really about sweetheart?" 

"Huh?" You tear your eyes away from the sparkling rock and look him in the eyes. 

"Come here." He says, patting his thigh. 

You swing your legs over him, thighs sitting side saddle against his muscular jean clad legs. Immediately he grabs the back of your neck, his other hand stroking at the inside of your knee. Face forced to look at him, you can't escape the serious look in his eye. 

He continues, "what is this about? You having doubts about this, 'bout us?" 

Shock widens your eyes. 

"No! Not at all, it's just… well it's silly." 

His look softens as he begins to stroke your inner thigh. "No it isn't, not if you're worried. What is it?" 

His hands are all consuming, filling your senses with nothing but his touch. 

"It's just… I'm a student. I'm not earning any money. And after that, I've got more training so I can be a teacher. I don't want you to have to… I dunno, provide for me I suppose." Your eyes dip downwards, almost ashamed of your own deepest thoughts. 

"Hey. Look at me, my good girl." 

Your body won't let you disobey the command in his voice, no matter how soft it is. Your eyes flash up to meet his in an instant. 

"I want this. I want you, and everything that means." His hand on your leg traces higher, whispering over the soft skin and dipping unseen, but not unfelt, underneath your robe. 

"I know you're still getting your qualifications and that's fine. I've got a big house sweetheart, two cars, hell I own the mechanic shop outright. I've got more money than I know what to do with." 

His hand trails even higher, rough fingertips grazing your slit making you gasp. Running his fingers up and down your folds gently, gathering seeping wetness, he continues. 

"The only thing I'm missing- is you. I can't stop thinking about you being mine, my partner, my wife. I'll pay for your schooling if I have to, I don't care. I need you in my life." 

"Eddie… I don't know what to say. Do- do you mean it?" You ask, eyes glossing over. 

"Sweetheart, I've never been more serious in all my life." 

His middle finger breaches your entrance then, just enough for you to feel it and start clenching. It's toying with you almost, just up to the first knuckle. 

"So, you still want me, sweetheart?" 

"O-oh of course- oh fuck!" 

He plunges two thick fingers deep inside you suddenly, pulling a needy howl from you at the unexpected pressure. Plunging them in and out of your wet heat he continues to hold your neck in place, keeping you staring at him. 

"Keep looking at me. I need to see you come. Can you do that? Can you come for me sweetheart?" 

You whine in response, a shake working its way over your skin and outstretching into the air around you, the room practically humming in anticipation. 

"I asked a question…" his voice is lilting, as if amused. His fingers keep his persistent drilling into your soaked cunt, the squelching noise echoing through the trashy room. 

"Y-yes Eddie" you respond, a whisper, a shadow of a promise. 

"That's my girl." 

The relentless pounding of his digits into your sodden pussy continue, unrelenting. You wail, convulsing almost, your slick heat contracting around his fingers hard as a ring of your creamy wetness circles them. 

Pressure mounts in your abdomen, the force pressing on your belly in waves. Eyes flutter shut briefly until Eddie's grasp on the back of your neck borders pain. They snap back open. 

"Eyes on me sweetheart." 

His gaze on you is unwavering, staring straight at you and into your soul. 

"You gonna come for me my girl? My beautiful, dirty girl? You look so pretty when you come." 

His words push you over the edge, striking straight at your cunt. You fall apart on his command, the magnitude of your release shaking your limbs. You're only dimly aware of the impossibly loud squelching sound that keeps going as he works you through your orgasm. 

As the stars start finally clearing from your vision you stare back at him gormlessly. 

Eddie finally removes his fingers from your core and shows his shining hand to you. 

"Soaked me sweetheart. Pretty sure you've ruined my jeans." 

Swinging your legs away from his lap you see the full extent of your release. The dark patch on his jeans is surprisingly large, absolutely drenched with your cum. 

"Fuck, I'm sorry-" 

"Don't apologise. That's hot as hell. Now, take my pants off for me sweetheart." 

Quirking an eyebrow at his request, you still oblige, unhooking the belt and shimmying his jeans off of his taut frame. You notice, with a flash of embarrassment, that your release has even soaked through to his boxers, leaving a damp patch on one side. Removing those too and flinging them away, you gawp at his rock hard length. Every time you see it, you think it's not going to fit, even though you have literal evidence to the contrary. 

"What now, Mr Munson?" You jokingly ask, mischief lacing your words. 

"Hmmm" He hums deeply, eyes impossibly dark, "so polite. I want you to ride me a little. I want to see that sexy body of yours bouncing in my lap. Think you can do that for me sweetheart?" 

You're nodding enthusiastically before you realise, slipping your silk robe off to join his bundle of clothes. 

Straddling him, you tease him just a little, your soaking lips dragging across his hardened length. Almost expecting him to admonish you for your bating movements, you stare into his eyes. Oh, he just looks amused, lips pulled into a playful half smirk. A look you have seen before, many times, which makes you realise that you were really in for it. 

Petulantly you tug at the hem off his shirt and give him a childish pout. "Off." 

"As you wish." The grin remains as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it into the void. 

Stunned by his body for a second, you run your fingertips over muscles, tattoos and chest hairs, feeling him tighten under your ministrations. 

Enough teasing, you need him now. 

Holding his throbbing member with one hand, you line him up and slowly sink down until you're sitting flush on his lap. A mutual groan flies out of both of your lips; the feeling of him filling you completely, unsure where one ends and the other begins, is simply otherworldly. If you could bottle it you could make a fucking fortune. 

Eddie's hands grasp you firmly by the hips, dragging you forcibly up and down his staggering length. You do your best to keep up, using your thighs and your hands on his chest as leverage, but he is relentless today. Before you realise it, your head is lolling to one side, bones in your neck a distant memory. You can't think, only feel. 

Eddie knows. 

"Aw, sweetheart, fucked dumb already huh?" He asks, mocking words dripping from his tongue like bitter sweet honey. 

"I- I can't" are the only words you can manage, his unbroken pounding into you filling your entire being. 

"Shouldn't tease me so much then," he half laughs, and sits up, climbing to his knees to flip you backwards onto the bed. His arm hooks underneath your knee to bring it close to your chest as his powerful thrusts continue. 

"Holy shit, Eddie!" You squeal, cunt clamping around him hard. 

"My sweetheart gonna come again? That's it baby," his words are soft, juxtaposed against his ruthless drives into your sodden heat. 

You clench even harder if that were possible, fingers winding into his hair and pulling hard. Eddie grunts in satisfaction at the gesture as he bites his lip. His pleasured face pushes you over the edge, falling into the deepest depths of your orgasm, moaning your release to the heavens. 

"What a fucking good girl" He groans, releasing your leg so he can grab both of your hands, holding them above your head as he pumps out his release deep inside. You feel the throb of it which gives you that extra wave of pleasure. 

Lips crash into each other, arms pulling tight, the need to be closer palpable. 

You're kissing, and kissing, until an unexpected ringing brings you both out of your post sex daze. 

Is it the phone in the room? Who knows you're here? Panic sets itself deep behind your eyes. Maybe your parents had tracked you down? 

Eddie must sense your unease as he shushes you gently, planting a soft kiss to your forehead which helps release some of your tension. 

He gets up, pads naked over to the phone and picks it up as you tug the bedsheet around you. 

"Hello?" 

You hear the scratchy sound of a shitty phone line, no real words, just noise. Eddie starts smirking bizarrely, twisting the cord with one finger. 

"Of course. We'll keep it down. Sorry." 

Replacing the receiver with a click his grin spreads further as he looks at you. 

"Reception said they had two noise complaints, and asked us to be a little quieter." 

"Oh my God." Your cheeks flush with heat as you pull the blanket higher up to hide, only your eyes and the top of your head visible. 

"Don't be embarrassed." He says, laughing. 

"Easy for you to say, you're proud of yourself!" 

He pulls the cover down to get at your mouth, kissing you softly, and breathes the words on your cheek. 

"Yeah, maybe a little." 

Giggling, you slap his arm and he pulls you in for a squeeze of a hug, strong arms pinning yours to the side. 

"Hey, I've got a young, hot fiancée, I'm allowed to be a little cocky." 

********************

The first thing you noticed about Vegas was the noise. It was early afternoon but the place was a bustling hive of activity; loud chatting groups of excited tourists mingled with the cries of people pushing pamphlets and coupons into their hands. The dings and crashes and tinny music blaring from casinos, along with the honks of car horns and engines, and the weird and wonderful racket of street performers all blended into an overwhelming cacophony which filled your brain like some sort of drug. You could understand how people could get lost in the pull of it; hours, days passing in a place that never sleeps. 

The hotel you were staying in was at least better than the motel, but it was still a little… odd. Only dumping bags and running you had little time to take in your surroundings, but what you did see made you laugh. There was an actual stuffed tiger in the lobby, along with several pieces of erotic art. The weirdness didn't stop there; the massive mirror over the circular bed in your room piqued your interest, as well as the sparkly wallpaper and fake zebra skins on the floor. Not that any of it mattered. You and Eddie were getting married, and that was at the forefront of your mind the whole time. 

Mr and Mrs Munson. Mr and Mrs Munson. 

Stupid things were making you panic. You needed to practise your new signature. You would have to change your passport. Why your brain was focusing on the craziest things, you had no idea. Chalking it up to pre wedding jitters, you walk arm in arm with your future husband, eyes seeking out the next goal: a wedding dress. 

A glitzy store with full glass frontage and brass fixtures caught your eye, and you stopped to look at the dresses in the window. It wasn't a bridal boutique by any means, but the gowns in the window were more tasteful than any you had walked past in the hour or so you'd been searching. 

"This, this is the place." You halt in front of the shop, squeezing Eddie's hand. 

"OK, let's go." 

"No." You say forcefully, placing your palm on his chest. He looks at you confused, and a little hurt, but doesn't say a word. 

"You can't see it, it's bad luck!" You explain as his features give way to a smile. 

"Fine, you win. I'll find a Chapel. Anything I should know before I do?" He asks, cocking his head with the question.

"Yes. Please, no fat Elvis impersonators. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face." 

"You sure? Don't wanna be married by The King?" 

Your scrunched up face makes Eddie laugh, throwing his head back. "OK, I get that. I'll find somewhere… tasteful. Well, I'll try to." He smirks, placing a card in your hands. 

"What's this?" 

"My credit card. Go nuts sweetheart." 

A lump firms in your throat at the level of trust. Despite that, it just doesn't feel right. 

"Eddie, I can't accept this." 

"You don't have a choice. Just take it, I'll feel better knowing you ain't counting pennies. Honestly, it's cool. This way you can get what you want." 

Shoulders slumping in defeat, you give in, accepting the card and slipping it into your pocket.

"Now, wait for me here. I don't wanna lose you." 

He plants a kiss on your forehead and walks off. 

Inside the shop, you know Eddie giving you his credit card was the right choice. It even smells expensive. The woman waiting for customers greets you with an enormous smile, and you explain what you are looking for. After a little search and a try on, you leave the shop with your dress, new shoes, and even a small veil from another place the store sent out for. You were ready. 

Eddie finds you twenty minutes later, with a love sick grin on his face. 

"I found somewhere, I think you'll like it. So, you find what you need?" 

"Yeah, I'm good" You smile back, handing him his card. 

"You can keep hold of it sweetheart."

"Nooooo" you say with feeling, forcing it into his hand, "that's just fucking dangerous." 

He laughs and takes your hand in his, ushering you into a waiting taxi. 

The cab pulls up to an unassuming building, pastel pink stucco covering the outside, along with a tiny steeple and fake bell. Taking a deep breath, you walk in, Eddie's hand firmly in the small of your back to guide you. At this point, you'd let him guide you anywhere. 

They know you are coming, the smiling ladies at the desk, and one of them leaps up in a cloud of perfume and blonde hair, leading you away immediately. 

"Heard all about you, so lovely to meet you! We've got somewhere for you to change, just come with me!" 

She introduces herself as Brenda, and leads you to a tiny back room with a full length mirror and a clothes rail and insists on helping you with your dress. She's talking a mile a minute, helping you to calm your nerves. 

"Oh he is handsome isn't he! And you are just lovely, I can see why he likes you. And the way he looks at you! Oh it's just so lovely. Let me help you with the zip honey. Oh, aren't you just a vision! Do a twirl, that's it, just perfect! You ready?" 

Am I ready? 

You stare at your reflection; the last time you'll look at yourself single. Butterflies dance in your belly, but searching your feelings you know it's excitement and not nerves. You want this; you can feel deep in your soul that this is the right decision. Staring down at your engagement ring, your birthstone ring, and his mother's ring on your thumb on the other hand, you smile.

"I'm ready." 

With a final spritz of perfume at your retreating back, Brenda waves you off and you walk into the room where you will marry the love of your life. 

The wedding march plays on a creaky organ as you walk down the short aisle. 

As your gaze lands on Eddie, your heart beats in your throat. He's wearing that tailored suit of his, but a white shirt now hugs his torso. No tie, as you could have predicted, but a sprig of cornflowers is tucked into his suit jacket pocket. 

Something blue.

It makes you smile, and cements the fact that this is right. He couldn't have known you'd pick a blue dress for the same reason, but here you were, matching. 

Your beautiful satin gown mirrored the powder blue in the flower, flared slightly at the waist to sit gently on your knee. The tasteful neckline scooped, sitting at your chest with an elegant fold. You had blue paper flowers interwoven in your hair, with a net veil tucked backwards away from your face. 

Your eyes never left him for a second. Vision locked, you stared at him pouring every ounce of your love into your gaze with each step you took towards him. Eddie's eyes seemed glassy. Was he about to cry? The thought made tears of your own well up. 

Reaching the end, you stop and face him. 

"Something blue huh?" You whisper, nodding at his flower accompaniment. 

"Something blue" He smiles, gesturing at your dress. "You look incredible." 

Keening at the praise, you look down for the first time and notice his heavy black biker boots. 

He shuffles uncomfortably in place. 

"I, er, forgot my shoes." 

"It's perfect. Very you." Smiling, you grasp his hand, and nod at the officiary in front of you. 

The officiary goes through the vows, up until it's time for the rings. 

The rings! How could I forget the rings?! 

Eddie's small smile is enough to calm you, as he reaches into his inside pocket and hands you a simple white gold band. He's holding a matching one. 

You flash a warm smile at him, one he reciprocates with a disarming wink. This is the man you fell for; always ready, fixing a situation, making everything OK with just a glance. 

The service ends quickly. They must have a quota to meet or something as before you know it, you are ushered outside and another couple are making their forever I Do's. 

"So, what now, Mr Munson?" You ask, threading your arms around his waist. 

"Hmmm, whatever Mrs Munson wants" He replies, nudging his nose with yours. 

The giggle that bubbles out of your mouth comes unbidden and doesn't seem to want to stop. 

"I think we should drink to our happily ever after, don't you?"  

"OK" he sighs, "one drink. Then, hotel. I wanna consummate this thing right now." 

The giggle turns into belly laughs as you respond, "I bet you do. But first a toast!" 

********************

Well. It turns out, Vegas gives a lot of things to newlyweds. A free steak dinner, some free spins, and free drinks. A lot of free drinks. The afternoon had bled into late evening, and your cheeks hurt from the permanent smile etched on your face.

You both stumble towards the rented room and open it with a key card on the third attempt. Making your way into the room, Eddie stops you in your tracks. 

"No, I gotta do this right" He mutters, as he lifts you up and cradles you in his arms to cross the threshold. 

"Eddie!" You shriek, wiggling in his arms as he lifts you into the room, banging the door shut with his foot. 

Eddie places you less than gracefully on the bed, the mattress wobbling under your weight. He hovers over you, looking distressed for a moment. 

"Fuck" He says, almost defeated, his knee forcing your legs apart.

"What?" 

"I used all my moves on you. Dunno what to do" He huffs into your neck, the hot air making you shiver. 

"You silly bastard" you laugh, grabbing at his arms in a futile attempt to pull him in.

"No, 'sgot to be special!" He whines childishly. 

"Eddie…" you attempt to get his attention, but he continues to look distraught, lips dragging soft and sloppy kisses over your neck. Inhibitions have truly left the building; the alcohol, eloping, and the feel of his hands all over you had you feeling rebellious.

"Well, you can always- stick it in my ass." 

The statement pulls him out of his overcome revelry and lifts his head to gape at you, soft brown eyes trying to judge if you're being serious or not.

"Huh??" 

"Well, you want to. You said it before. It'll… mark the occasion." You smirk at him, lifting your dress over your head and discarding it on one of the garish rugs in the room. 

Pretty underwear displayed, Eddie's eyes rake over your frame. All barely there light blue lace hugs your curves. His gaze covets your physique, roaming up and down your body with reckless abandon. 

"Well, you want to?" You ask, turning around beneath him so that your ass is pointing at him, almost wiggling in anticipation. 

"Ooh you dirty fuckin' girl" He breathes out, quickly freeing himself of his suit jacket and shirt. 

The rough pull of his hands forcing your hips up elicits a squeak from you, and before you know it he's running his tongue across your clothed pussy, dragging it up and up, and over your hole. Whimpering at the new sensation, you find yourself pushing back unconsciously onto his tongue.

"Fuck, my dirty girl. My dirty wife." 

Suddenly he hooks his tongue into the flimsy stripe of your panties, and you feel it against your bare ring. The sensation is new; different but very welcome. Moaning wantonly, your fingers grip onto the bed sheets. 

Eddie wrestles your underwear off you then, roughly working them down your thighs and off. Your bra goes too, flung into the abyss. Manhandling you back into position, your ass unceremoniously up in the air, he massages your cheeks with coarse hands. 

"Legs wider for me, sweetheart." 

You shuffle your knees, starting to feel self conscious in your position, but it's not good enough. 

"I said wider." 

A sharp smack to your ass takes you entirely by surprise, buzzing over your skin. A moan comes out of you at the sensation. 

"I think she likes that!" You can hear the smile in his voice. You move your knees further out to accommodate him. The lack of sound coming from him is making you feel uncomfortable, until you feel a soft kiss, just a simple brush of his lips against the cheek he just struck. 

"So fuckin' beautiful." 

He's licking into you then, tongue breaching your hole as he slips a finger deep into your cunt. 

"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 

It feels so messy, so naughty; the wet noises of Eddie's wiggling tongue, and of his thick finger pulling squelching sounds from deep within are loud and salacious. He hums satisfaction into you, the vibration driving you wild. The need is throbbing from you, your clit twitching at nothing. 

It's almost getting too much to take, his incessant movements making you feral with desires. 

"Eddie, please!" 

You expect teasing from him, a sarcastic comment, a pouting voice, but nothing comes. You just feel the emptiness of his tongue and finger exiting you, leaving you clenching at nothing. Then, the sound of his belt, clear as a bell. There's rustling, and a very quiet 'fuck'. 

"What's wrong Eddie?" You ask, trying to look over your shoulder. 

"Forgot my boots" He laughs, as he frantically tries to rid himself of his pants, boxers and boots in one go. You giggle at his eagerness. 

All laughter stops however when you feel him release a globule of spit directly on your hole. It has you clenching around nothing, thighs clenching at the seediness of it all. 

Then, his arms are on either side of your shoulders as he crowds over you, bare skin sliding on your back, his cock pushed between your legs. Hot breath fans the shell of your ear; his wavy hair tickling your neck. 

"You sure you wanna do this, pretty girl?" 

"Yes, please Eddie." 

He kisses your cheek, then your shoulder, soft, loving kisses that make your insides melt. 

"You tell me if it's too much sweetheart."

Kneeling up, he lines himself up with your hole, spitting down again at where you are so close to being joined, and pushes against you. 

The tip slides in and you gasp. It's not painful as such, just uncomfortable. Eddie's large hand strokes down your back, soothing you. 

"Just relax sweetheart." 

Heeding his words, you breathe through your nose and out through your mouth. 

"Look at you, doing such a good job. I'm gonna go further, OK?" 

"Y-yeah" you manage, the praise fluttering in your tummy. As he softly caresses your back with his hand, he pushes his length into you slowly, until he's fully seated inside. 

"Fuuuck… so tight sweetheart, holy shit." 

His breathing is laboured, both hands now grasping onto your hips for dear life. 

You feel… full. Not unpleasantly so. As you relax around his length, your pussy begins to flutter in the absence of attention. A mixture of your slick and his spit is wetting your thighs, a cooler contrast to the heat throbbing inside you. 

"Eddie, you can move." 

"No I fucking can't" He half laughs, though it sounds slightly strained as he's stroking your skin. 

"Eddie!" 

"OK, OK," he mumbles, pulling out slightly and pushing back in. The feeling is odd, foreign, but with each thrust it pushes the sensations into those of pleasure. You're moaning now, losing yourself in it as pressure mounts in your abdomen. 

"Fuck" Eddie's hips stutter slightly, "forgot about the ceiling mirror." 

He stops for a moment, clearly losing himself in staring at the two of you conjoined in your sinful position. From here, you couldn't see even if you tried, and the heat pooling from you, the pulsating need, is taking over. So, you push back on his cock, moving your own hips back and forth, chasing your release. 

"Holy shit, look at you, think I married a fuckin' porn star, fuck" 

His grip tightens again as he thrusts into you harder, grunting with the effort. 

Your climax is hurtling towards you violently, the force of it shaking you from the inside out. 

"Eddie, Oh I'm gonna- I'm cumming!" 

You explode, liquid fire running in your veins, pulsing out with each roll of Eddie's hips. It doesn't burn, how could it? You're barely there, floating to the heavens on a cloud of ecstasy.

"Sweetheart, gripping me too tight, w-where-" 

"Inside, please baby, cum inside me I wanna feel it!" 

Eddie releases in you with one final powerful thrust. The throb of his orgasm extends your own, wildfire licking at each nerve ending in immeasurable waves. 

Finally, you slump into the mattress, sweating and spent. Eddie flops on top of you, peeling away the hair that had stuck to your neck. 

"You alright there princess?" 

"Yeah" you breathe out, "didn't think it was gonna be that good. I think I left my body for a second there." 

He chuckles, slipping out of you and rolling onto the bed. You lie next to him, snuggled contentedly into his chest. You glance up and see your two bodies entwined, legs wrapped up in each others, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. 

"The mirrors a bit creepy." 

"That's a shame, I kinda want one now." 

You giggle, lightly smacking his chest. 

"Pervert." 

"Hmm, now, who was the one who was begging for a dick in the ass?" 

"Eddie!" You shriek, embarrassed. 

"Just saying. We're both perverts. Wanna take a shower, Mrs Munson?" 

"Only if you join me, Mr Munson." 

You feel the smile on his lips as he presses them against your forehead. 

"See? Pervert." 

********************

Your stomach is tied tight into a clump of a knot, stressed strands intermingling and tugging on your organs. You try to breathe, feeling the tension in your head subside slightly, but it's still there. Glancing over at Eddie in the driver's seat he gives you a small smile and a reassuring pat on your knee, rough thumb brushing encouragement. It helps. 

You're parked outside Eddie's house, having driven back after a couple of days of marital bliss, but now the real world is knocking. Eddie had to go back to the shop to check on things, and you need to talk to your parents. 

"You can do it, I know you can" Eddie whispers softly. 

"Yes, I can. Come on." 

Setting your jaw in determination, you reach out for the handle to let yourself out of the truck. 

Both of you stand on the sidewalk, his hand firmly grasped in yours. 

"Are you sure you want me to come with you?" Eddie looks worried, discomfort evident. No surprise considering what happened the last time he saw your dad. 

"Yes, definitely. They need to know we're serious. Let's go." 

He lets you lead the way across the street and outside your parents house. Both cars are in the driveway, a good indication that your mom and dad are both home. Taking one final deep breath, you knock on the door. 

The door opens a crack, and your mom's face appears. Then it's flung open wide crashing in the frame and she's crushing you in a bone crunching embrace. 

"Oh thank God you're safe I was so worried! Honey I'm so sorry, come in, come in!" 

She's dragging you inside and Eddie sheepishly follows just behind you. Her hands are cradling your face, as if she's looking for signs of pain. 

"Mom, I'm OK. I'm great. I'm happy" You reassure her with a tight smile, pulling her hands down to her sides. It's as if she just notices Eddie is there, eyes flitting between you two as you grasp his hand firmly again. For your strength, as well as his. 

"Honey, you know all I want is for you to be happy. If he's the man you want, I'll stand by-" 

Her encouraging words are cut off by the gruff tones of your father from the kitchen.

"Is that her?" He booms, and you jump slightly, trying to will the confidence that you just held back into your spine. 

He appears then, cheeks an angry red, the stern look set into his face slightly marred by the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

"Now Mick, we discussed-"

Your mom begins but he moves her aside to try and step towards you. His eyes quickly move to Eddie but you stand in front of him like a shield. 

"You can get out of my house right now!" 

"Dad, can we just-" 

He points a finger at you, eyes dragging away from Eddie and towards you again. 

"Now you listen here young lady-" 

"No!" 

It comes out loud, louder than you expected it to. Shock emanates from him in waves as he stares at you open mouthed. 

Softer, you continue. 

"No. You listen. You've said enough and you've not let me speak, through any of this." 

Your father attempts to regain composure. The accusing finger is laid to rest, and he nods at you. Taking it as the best sign you can, you finally have your say. 

"I'm not a kid anymore. I'm a woman. I can make my own decisions, and I've decided. I love Eddie. I love him with all my heart. He's the one for me, now and always." 

Eddie doesn't say anything; he's letting you have your moment, so he just places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. You reach up with your own hand, your left hand, and squeeze right back. Mom's eyes widen when she notices the rings. 

"I want you to accept this, to accept us. This happened, whether you like it or not. Eddie's a good man, you know he is. I love you all. Please don't make me choose between you, because-" biting back tears, you try and stay strong, "because I'll always choose my husband." 

The silence is loaded and deafening. All you can hear is your own heart hammering in your ears. 

Your dad's voice breaks the quiet. It's low, bordering on a whisper. 

"So… this is serious then?" 

You can't help it, a laugh barks out of your chest before you can contain it, the release of emotion allowing a tear to run down your cheek. 

"You could say that." 

"Honey, I- come here." Your father opens his arms to you and you fall into them, tears tumbling freely down your face. He's crying then too, bubbling sobs that he buries into your hair. 

"I'm so sorry honey, so sorry" He blubbering, wet apologies spilling from his mouth like a dam has burst. "You're my little girl, I just w-wanted to p-protect you." 

You shush him, rubbing his back. 

"I know dad, I know." 

He finally releases you from his grip, wiping tears furiously from his face. 

Eddie steps around you, holding his hand out to your father. He takes it in his, and then grasps it with the other as well, holding it firmly as he looks him in the eyes. 

"You love my daughter?" 

"More than anything." Eddie says emphatically. Your dad nods, but doesn't let go. 

"You promise to take care of her, make her happy?" 

It feels like you're saying your vows all over again, only this time it's to become part of the family. 

"I promise Mick. I'd do anything for her." 

Your father pulls him forward suddenly, taking Eddie by surprise. He whispers something in his ear, and envelops him into a crushing embrace. 

You look over to your mom. Tears are cascading down her cheeks and she grabs onto you for dear life. 

"You're married?! I didn't get a chance to buy a hat!" Your laughs and tears intermingle at that, smiling broadly. 

After a few more hugs and tears, you excuse yourself, going upstairs to collect yourself and freshen up. Two minutes later, Eddie's barging in, clearly forgetting how to knock again. Not that you care anymore. You're in each other's arms immediately, his large hand stroking the back of your head. 

"Well, that went better than last time." 

You laugh, nodding agreement. Pulling away to look at him, you can't help but ask. 

"What did my dad whisper to you?" 

He chuckles back and fills you in. 

"Something along the lines of, 'if you break her heart I'll break both your legs.' " 

"Wow, extreme." 

"Fuckin' fair if you ask me sweetheart." 

His lips are on yours, soft plush pillowed against you. 

"I gotta go to the shop, sort some stuff out. Oh, and get a key cut." 

You tilt your head at him. "A key?" 

"For you, for your new home. Our home." 

Your tears brim with tears anew. 

"You want me to move in, what, straightaway?" 

"Hmm lemme think" He says, index finger dramatically tapping his chin. "Hell yes?" 

You don't answer. You don't have to. You just fling yourself into his arms and kiss him over, and over, and over. 

********************

Tag List (Thank you for all of your support it means so much to me)

@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @daisyridleyyyy @lolalanaie @dandelionnfluff @latedawnsearlysunsets92 @luv-flor7777 @topaz1983 @pixxie2004 @harmfulb1tch @findmeincorneliastreet @eddies-puppet @fertilitygodkiszka @freshsagegarden @josephquinnsfreckles

[illegal-spiegel]

You Take My Breath Away

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x gn!reader (x Chuuya Nakahara)

Genre: Fluff?, angst, hurt/comfort?

Warnings: this fic contains dark content. if you don't like that, please keep scrolling and dni. S2 spoilers, strangling (bloodshot and swollen eyes, bruised and sore throat, can't speak, etc.), murder/death, throat slitting, blood, Dazai is overly protective ig, toxic behavior overall, typical su!cide mention from Dazai

Summary: Dazai gets protective over you when you get hurt, on more than one occasion, and takes matters into his own hands to make sure they never hurt you again.

WC: 7.5k

Read on AO3!

You giggle like a schoolgirl as Dazai tickles your sides, your face starting to hurt from how hard you’ve been smiling. That always seems to happen to you when Dazai is around. “Quit it!” you squeal, smacking at Dazai’s hands. 

Dazai only seems to chuckle and continue his evil acts against you. “Say the magic words!” he bargains. 

“Never!” you shout, leaning away from him and bumping into Atsushi who is sitting right beside you. He doesn’t seem to mind it though, he just watches you both with a fond smile on his face. “Atsushi! Help!” you cry, tears lining your eyes the longer and harder you laugh. 

“No one can save you now! You’re at my mercy!” Dazai shouts back, waiting for you to say the magic words that will rid you of his tickling. 

And listen. You tried to hold out, you really did! But you’ve known Dazai for more than seven years now and he knows all your most ticklish spots by now.

“Okay! Okay!” you concede. He slows his fingers but doesn’t stop them. “Dazai is the most handsome, funniest, smartest guy ever, and I smell like rotten eggs!” As soon as you finish, Dazai lets up. He stays hovering above you though from where you leaned away from him, a soft smile on his face. 

“Awe, you really think so?” he coos, fluttering his lashes at you. 

“No,” you wheeze, holding your poor, aching sides. “I mean yes! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you screech, a scared laugh escaping you when he threatens to tickle you again. 

“Hm. That’s what I thought,” he says as he sits properly in his seat. 

You pant as you sit up straight as well, waving your hand at Atsushi as an apology. Then again, the little traitor didn’t even try to help you. “The train is sure taking a while,” the white-haired man suddenly comments. You hum, pushing your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement. 

You raise a brow as Dazai suddenly stands up, face blank and serious. “There’s an urgent errand I need to carry out,” he announces, staring out at the tracks in front of him. 

“What is it?” Atsushi asks with great urgency, seemingly nervous. You can’t help but smirk. You’d bet every last penny you own that Dazai is about to say some dumbass shit. 

“I need to use the bathroom!” he cries, hands going over his crotch as he starts to do a peepee dance. Atsushi’s face falls as he stares at the higher-up, unbelieving he just said that. You only end up cracking up, laughing as you watch him dance in one place. It makes your sides ache but in the best way possible. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Permission?” you tease, smirking at the man. He continues to stare you down as he dances from foot to foot faster and faster. You snort and roll your eyes. “Okay, go,” you say playfully, waving him off. 

“Thank you!” he cries, zooming away. “Ah! I’m not gonna make it!” This causes you to snort again. You don’t know why he insisted on holding it for so long then. You look over at Atsushi and only laugh harder at how bewildered he looks. 

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” you reassure him, patting him on the back. He turns to look at you now, giving you a small smile. 

“I always thought Dazai was so cool and mysterious…but…” You raise a brow when he trails off, jumping to conclusions. 

“But he’s a bit of a dumbass?” you guess, chuckling. Atsushi goes tense, nervous about referring to his higher-up in such a way, especially since it seems that Dazai has ears everywhere. He glances at the way Dazai went before slowly nodding his head with a laugh of his own. 

“Yeah, something like that,” he agrees, his chuckles dying down when you both hear the train whistle a bit a ways. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he suddenly asks. 

“Yes, I’ll help you hide a body, but only if you killed them with good reason,” you respond, completely serious. At his flabbergasted look, you snort and nudge his arm with yours. “I’m kidding.” He relaxes. “Sort of.” You laugh when he tenses up again, his body relaxing when he realizes you’re just messing with him again. You and Dazai love pulling pranks on him together. 

Speaking of…

“How long have you and Dazai been dating?” 

Your laughter instantly dies and you feel choked up all of a sudden. “Wait what-”

“I mean, I figure it’s been a while. You two share your affection so openly and he’s always going on and on about you-”

“Wait what-”

“So I was just curious how long it’s been. You two seem really happy together.” 

At the last part, any reply you had ready to go suddenly dies on your tongue. You two seem really happy together. What the fuck are you supposed to say to that? You two aren’t even talking talking, let alone dating. Where did Atsushi get an idea like that? Have the others said something? Or is this a prank that Dazai is pulling on him and forgot to let you in on it? 

Before you can think of a response though, the train is arriving. You sigh in relief as you two both stand up and walk towards the train, looking left and right for Naomi and Haruna. 

“Haruna, Naomi!” you hear Atsushi shout. You turn to look at him before looking past him to see the two girls. You sigh in relief a second time, a smile coming to your face. Thank goodness. “Are you alright?” he asks when you get close enough to them. 

“We are. I never thought they’d come after the clerks in the office,” Naomi responds with a warm, relieved smile. 

“At least you’re safe now!” Atsushi says brightly. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re alright,” you agree, giving the girls a smile to which they return. “We’re gonna escort you both to the extraction point,” you add on. 

“Oh! I wanted you to meet someone!” You raise a brow at this, turning to look towards the train when Naomi motions towards it and turns to face it. “We got to know each other a little on the train.” With that, a small child comes walking out, holding a creepy doll. You raise a brow when he bumps into Atsushi and just starts laughing. Someone needs to teach this kid some manners…

Your brows furrow when the kid suddenly turns and rolls up their sleeve to show off…

What is that? 

Are those…razor blades taped to his arms? Alarm bells immediately start going off in your head. Something isn’t right here. 

“Wanna play a game?” the kid suddenly asks, a maniac grin on his face. 

Before you could respond, Atsushi starts mumbling to himself. You turn to look at him, finding his eyes are leaking what appears to be blood. “Atsushi?” you say unsurely, reaching out toward him. 

*

“You mentioned before that you came here to protect me…” Dazai says unsurely, trying to put the pieces together. When things suddenly click into place, he gasps before spinning to face the way he came. “Dammit!” he shouts before taking off. “No, no, no! Fuck!” he hisses, running back to you two. 

He swears, if Q has done anything to yo-

He comes around the corner only to find you being dangled in the air, Atsushi holding you up by your throat while growling and grunting. Dazai lets out a growl of his own as he sprints toward the man. He’s not thinking clearly. What should he do? 

He dashes past the two other women who seem to be harmed but overall fine. He wraps his arm around Atsushi’s throat and presses heavily on his windpipe. Now that he’s closer, he can see that your eyes are bloodshot and they’re starting to roll back into your head. How long has he been holding you like this? Why aren’t you using your ability? Do you not want to hurt Atsushi? 

To his horror, Atsushi ignores Dazai and continues to strangle you. Dazai doesn’t want to hurt him since he knows it isn’t actually him, but he’s running out of options. His eyes flicker this way and that way looking for a solution. 

This is when his eyes spot the doll. 

Dazai quickly lets Atsushi go before bolting toward the hideous toy, picking it up, and instantly screaming, “Ability: No Longer Human!” His power surges through the toy and he turns to find Atsushi snapping out of it. He gasps as he lets you go, your body hitting the ground hard. Atsushi grasps at his throat where Dazai had choked him. 

Dazai barely looks at him though as he hurries over to you. He lifts your body to cradle you in his lap, brushing your hair out of your face and his hands ghosting the marks on your neck. “(Y/n)?” he whispers, his whole frame shaking as he clutches you close. 

You let out a wet, ragged cough before slowly blinking your eyes open, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I-” you try to force out, but it seems you can’t make any further noise. 

“Shh, don’t try to speak. You might damage your vocal cords further,” he advises. He lifts his head and does a quick survey of the area. The other two ladies are indeed fine. Hurt, but fine.

But where’s Q? 

“Your new friends are so fragile, Mr. Dazai!” he whips his head around to find Q smiling at him on the train as it starts to shift forward. “But don’t worry! What I really look forward to is breaking you–whether that be through you directly or your new love here!” Q giggles and continues to grin at him maniacally. “Remember how you made me suffer? Soon you’re going to feel that pain, Mr. Dazai!” 

“And instead of capturing you next time and showing you mercy by simply ripping your heart out, I’ll torture you slowly and painfully until you're begging me to kill you,” he responds darkly with a sinister expression. Q had his mouth open to respond but goes quiet, eyes wide. He wasn’t expecting such a terrifying response for some reason. They stare at each other as the train takes Q further and further away.

You’ve never seen Dazai so angry before and you don’t even know why he’s so mad. The world sounds like it’s underwater, or like you have cotton stuffed in your ears. He isn’t mad at Atsushi, is he? It wasn’t his fault. You need to tell him that. 

You reach up and loosely grip the lapel of his coat, weakly tugging on it as you try to speak. All that comes out though is breathy whines and wheezes, words unable to be formed. He turns to look at you, his grip suddenly tightening on you. “Shh, I know. It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s all over. Everything’s alright. I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You close your eyes, the last of your tears falling down your cheeks. He pulls back when you suddenly go slack in his arms, his eyes widening a tad when he realizes that you’ve passed out. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, cradling you close to his chest. That was close, too fucking close. 

“I'm such a screwup.” Dazai opens his eyes and turns to look over at Atsushi, finding the man crying as he stares at the marks blooming on your neck. “That should be me, not them. I shouldn’t even be alive. I don’t deserve to be alive…”

Dazai doesn’t know why, but hearing him talk like that angers him further. Yes, it should be him hurt instead of you. It should be Dazai. It should be any of them but you. You should never be hurt. You weren’t even supposed to come with them today. 

Dazai watches for a moment as Atsushi pathetically cries and blubbers on about who knows what. Dazai slowly and gently sets you down on the concrete before moving in front of Atsushi. “Atsushi,” Dazai grunts, frowning down at the man. 

Atsushi lifts his head, his eyes red from his crying. Before Atsushi could even blink, Dazai is slapping him across his face. Hard. “Pull it together. They wouldn’t want you talking like that,” he mumbles before instantly turning back to you. They need to get you back to HQ stat. 

* When you wake up, you feel like your throat was run over by a motorcycle. And then they reversed over it again just to make sure they got the job done. Your hands shakily come up to gently clutch your throat, your vision a little blurry until you blink a few times. Even then though, things are still a little blurry out of one of your eyes. 

You try to move your head only to be met with pain in your neck. You slowly take a deep breath, finding it a little hard to breathe, before trying again. You take your time in sitting up, making sure not to move your head or neck too much. Your eyes go wide when you see a head of brown hair on your bed, and a chair keeping him close. You smile and slowly reach over to card your fingers through his hair. 

You barely get to do so though since he’s suddenly springing up. You gasp and rear your hand back from the shock, hissing when it causes you pain. “You’re awake! Woah! Stop! Okay!” he screeches, going into panic mode when he sees your face contort into one of pain. You weakly laugh, it sounding nothing like your usual laugh. This one is all scratchy and hoarse, your throat sore and dry. Your laughter quickly stops when it becomes too painful. 

“Wait! Okay! Everyone remain calm!” he continues to shout even though you two are the only ones in the room and he’s the only one panicking. You smile hard. “You want some water? Never mind, you need to drink some. You’ve been out for a while.” And with that, he’s zooming off to assumedly get you some water. 

You’re not alone long before he’s back, offering you a glass of water with a stick poking out of it. You take the stick out to see a sponge at the end of it. At your bewildered look, Dazai explains, “Akiko said that you might not be able to drink very well, so the sponge will give you smaller amounts to drink and make it easier to swallow.” You smile at him and nod your head before starting to do just that. Your throat aches with each swallow, but the water feels good. 

Dazai suddenly grabs something from the desk beside you and sets a notepad and pen in your lap. “I want you to use this instead of trying to talk, okay?” he says softly, hand resting on top of yours for a moment before letting go. You nod your head and hand him the water before picking up your pen. 

Where’s Atsushi + the others? They okay?

You hold up the notepad for him to see, watching his eyes flicker over the words. His face hardens for a moment, just a split second, before relaxing again. He huffs out a laugh as he says, “Of course that’s the first thing you say.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, they’re alright. They’re all resting. It was a crazy day.” You nod your head, letting out a small sigh. Is Atsushi really okay? “You can see them soon enough. Akiko and I agreed that you need your rest and shouldn’t have any visitors until you’re better.” 

You raise your brow at this. Then why are you here mister? You turn the notepad for him to see, smirking at him. Your smirk only grows when you see some color come to his cheeks and his eyes shift away from you completely. 

“I’m your hot nurse, of course. All patients need one,” he replies playfully. Despite his joke, your chest flutters at his kindness. You smile softly as you reach out to him, setting your free hand over his. He instantly flips his hand over to properly hold your hand, weaving your fingers together. “Besides, I told you that you can’t die without me. You’re the only one I’ll commit double suicide with,” he jokes further, smirking at you now. 

You let out a weak laugh and roll your eyes. Typical Dazai. 

It didn’t take long for you to be up and out of bed. Everyone knows that you never stay down for long, even if you have the worst injuries of them all. You hate being bedridden, especially when something like this is going on. 

Currently, you’re looking over some files of what’s been going on while you were out of commission. The Guild are some serious bad guys, and that’s coming from someone who used to be a part of the-

“I really don’t feel like working.” 

You lift your file a bit to look down into your lap where Dazai has made himself home. His face is smushed into your tummy and his butt hangs high in the air. You smile at the position. He’s such a dork. 

“Are you seriously going to mope around like this the whole morning?” You look up to find Kunikida there. You smile up at him and his hard expression relaxes when he sees your cheery face. “Good morning, (Y/n). How are you feeling?” 

“Right as rain, Kida!” you greet. At your chipper voice, Dazai whines and wiggles his ass in the air. 

“Any other time I’d be up for having this conversation with you, but not now, please,” he whines, shoving his face further into your body. 

“What happened to the energetic young hero who just helped save this town from the brink of destruction?” Kida asks in a monotone, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh.  

“Boss has me lined up for this new job and I don’t wanna,” Dazai cries, giving a fake sniffle, causing you to roll your eyes. Dazai continues to wiggle his ass in the air and you grin wickedly as you reach out to slap it. Dazai jumps with a yelp, turning his head a bit with his jaw dropped. “Kunikida! I didn’t know you felt this way,” he playfully purrs to the shocked man.

Kunikida’s cheeks go red as he huffs, his hands now placed onto his hips. “Is that the same one Atsushi and the boss were talking about yesterday?” he asks curiously, completely ignoring Dazai’s comment.

Before anyone can respond though, the boss man himself is suddenly appearing behind Kida. “Correct.” Dazai lifts his face to turn and look at him, grunting as he rolls over to face the two now, keeping his head in your lap. 

“Good morning, sir,” Kida greets the older man, reminding you of a soldier in the army with the way he’s acting. 

“Dazai, (Y/n),” he says, completely ignoring the man and causing you to pout. Always so serious and straight to the point. “What’s the status of that meeting with the Port Mafia?”

“I’ve made the arrangements,” Dazai reports. You smirk when you see Kida’s face go into shock, eyeing the three of you. 

“Do you think their boss will come?” he asks. 

“I’m sure he will,” you answer. 

“It’s the perfect opportunity for him to kill you, after all,” Dazai adds, smirking a bit. 

Fukuzawa closes his eyes for a moment and gives a slight nod. “I’d prefer that to having bloodshed amongst our people,” he says as he walks off. You sigh and look down at Dazai when he groans, discovering that you’ve been combing your hand through his hair the whole time. Oops. 

“Hey, Dazai, (Y/n)...” Kida starts softly as Dazai whines and wiggles around in your lap like a child when you stop playing with his hair. “What’s the secret meeting with the Port Mafia all about?” Kida suddenly shouts, causing you to jump. Dazai simply rolls to a stop in your lap, overall seeming unbothered by the man’s raised voice. Typical. 

“Well, I have to admit that our little Atsushi’s idea has really snowballed,” Dazai sighs, staring out the window. 

“Since The Guild is now our biggest threat, it only makes sense for us t-” you start to explain before Kunikida suddenly cuts you off. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” he shouts, speaking a mile a minute. “I’m totally lost here…” Kida admits, rubbing the back of his head. “First of all, why are you guys the ones arranging this meeting?” You open and close your mouth, unsure of how to answer. You tilt your head down to look at Dazai, finding him a bit wide-eyed. He turns to look at Kida now as if Kida should know the answer to that already. 

“Because we used to be with the Port Mafia?” 

Kida’s entire face goes blank with confusion and shock. “Huh?” 

“Oh!” Dazai suddenly realizes, expression lighting up. “Did I not tell you that? My bad!” he hisses, giving him a ‘sorry’ look. 

“What?” Kida shouts, making you flinch back a bit. These two are always such a rowdy bunch. 

“Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” you apologize, giving him a sorry smile. He just blinks and stares at you stupidly, making your smile grow. Yeah, guess it is some pretty shocking information. 

“You were in the Port Mafia?” he asks you, jaw completely unhinged. “Dazai I can actually understand. But you?”

“Hey!” Dazai whines with a pout.

*

You and Dazai come to a stop in front of the abandoned building. You place your hands on your hips as you look around you. “Well, this doesn’t seem suspicious at all,” you say sarcastically. 

“Are you sure you should be here?” 

You turn to look at Dazai, smiling over at him. “As I told you a hundred times before, I’m fine.” 

“I don’t want you here…” Dazai mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns to face you. 

“And who’s going to stop you from murdering Q as soon as you lay eyes on him?” you respond, sighing as you place a hand on Dazai’s chest and the other staying on your hip, feeling him relax under your touch. Chuuya probably wouldn’t give two shits.

Before he can respond, lights are suddenly cutting on around you. You turn to look at the lights, squinting at how bright they are. You raise a brow when you hear many guns being cocked, your hand falling from his chest as you turn to face your enemies. 

“Pleasant evening, isn’t it?” Steinbeck asks, eyeing you from afar. “You even brought a date!” he teases Dazai. You remain expressionless as you study the two men in front of you. Are these guys serious? “Hm, seems our strategist has hit the nail on the head once again in predicting your movements,” he continues. 

Dazai slowly turns to face them, a smirk resting on his lips as he watches them with amusement. “Figures it’d be a trap…”

You two stand side by side as you assess the situation in front of you. Now if only a certain someone would show u- 

A rock comes soaring from the air and crashes into the crowd of men surrounding you, taking out a big chunk of their numbers. “About time…” you mumble, tilting your head back to look up into the sky as the redhead slowly floats down to the ground. You hear Dazai grumble angrily beside you as he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on it.

“Let me set one thing straight,” Chuuya starts as he stares down the enemy, hands resting on his hips, “(Y/n) is not Dazai’s date.” You huff and roll your eyes at the man. That’s what he has to say right now out of all things?

“Says who? Did you invite them here?” Dazai asks. Chuuya opens his mouth to answer him, but Dazai swiftly cuts him off. “No, I didn’t think so,” he sassily finishes. He sighs and tosses his head back. “Man, I knew there was a reason that today was gonna suck,” he mumbles. Ah, so it seems they didn’t fill Dazai in on this part of the plan. Probably a good idea, honestly. 

“The hell?” Steinbeck suddenly shouts. “I never heard anything about this in the strategic forecasts!”  

Just as Steinbeck starts to grow a plant from his hand to attack Chuuya, Dazai comes up behind him and touches his shoulder. “Sorry, I can’t let you do that,” Dazai sighs out, canceling the man’s ability. 

“Gah! The canceling ability,” he huffs, sweat lining his forehead. 

“This is such a drag,” Dazai groans, stomping his foot like a child. You giggle and bump his hip, causing him to almost fall over. 

“At least you’re with me,” you coo playfully. At this, he instantly perks up and sighs dreamily. 

“You’re so right, my beautiful (Y/n).” Your cheeks start to flush, but you’re pulled out of the mini moment by Chuuya. 

“Hey! Stop flirting! We’re on a mission here!” Chuuya hollers as he flies into the air in front of Steinbeck using his ability and kicks the blond away from the three of you. 

After this, Chuuya comes to stand at your other side, slipping his jacket off as he surveys the group around you. He drops it onto your head, to which you give an offended ‘hey!’ You smirk to yourself though as you start to slide it on.

“For crying out loud…this is the worst day I’ve had in years,” Dazai grumbles. 

You brush off your hands as you follow the two men inside, Chuuya laughing at Dazai’s expense. “If the day comes when you two get along, I’ll know the world is ending,” you joke, starting to head down the staircase inside the building. 

“What will you do on your last day on Earth?” Chuuya asks, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You turn to look at him, smirking as you lean into his space. 

“Why? Got any good ideas?” you purr, bringing your face close to his. He sputters in surprise, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, unsure of how to respond. You cackle as you pull away and walk ahead of him, your laughter calming down when you find Dazai glaring at you both. 

“I’ll have you know that if there was only one day left on Earth, (Y/n) would be spending it with me and we’d be having a great time,” Dazai scoffs, leading the way down the stairs. You bite your lip to try and contain your smile as you follow after him. 

“Ha! As if they’d want to spend it with you of all people!” Chuuya laughs, pointing at him from behind you. 

“Yeah? And why not?” Dazai fires back. 

“Boys,” you warn, coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and turning back to look at them to find them glaring at each other. You huff, blowing hair out of your eyes. 

You then turn to look into the dimly lit room, finding Q pinned to the tree with his doll sitting right beside him on the chair. “He’s here!” you announce, hoping that will distract them. Luckily for you, it does. 

Also unluckily for you though, Dazai comes marching right down the stairs and heads right for Q with a murderous intent in his eyes. “Dazai!” you shout, grabbing ahold of his arm and using all your might to hold him back. “Stop it!” 

“What’s with him?” Chuuya asks confusedly. He’s never seen the brunet so worked up before, especially over this. Is there something he doesn’t know? 

“Just help me!” you screech at the shorter male. 

Chuuya quickly jumps into action and grabs his other arm. “Hey, meathead! Would you cool it for a sec?” Chuuya shouts at the man. 

To your relief, he lets up. To your disappointment, he turns his anger onto Chuuya. “No! Do you know what he did to them?” he shouts, backing the man up into the wall opposite from Q. You sigh as you rub your hand over your forehead. 

“Dazai, enough-” you start. You go ignored though. 

“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me,” Chuuya snaps. He reminds you of a cat who’s been backed into a corner and has its hair bristled. 

“Chuuya! Don’t-”

“They almost died because of him, and I’ll be damned and sent right to hell if I let him get away with it,” he says lowly, fists shaking from the rage brewing inside of him. You walk over to the duo, setting your hand on Dazai’s back. You frown when instead of relaxing like he normally does, he only grows tenser under your touch. 

“If you had to kill everyone who has almost killed me, half the population would be gone!” you exaggerate, trying to reason with him.

“Fucking good riddance then,” Dazai huffs, still eyeing Chuuya.

Chuuya silently stares up at him, debating his next words. “What happened?” he asks, eyes softening as he worriedly glances at you as if the attack just happened. 

“They were almost strangled to death. They had bruises on their neck, eyes bloodshot and swollen, and they could barely swallow or breathe,” Dazai mumbles, eyes shifting down the ground as his knuckles become white with his grip. Your body goes tense at the recollection of what happened. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure them both. 

The room is silent for a moment after that, and Chuuya stares at you, at a loss for words. He’s relieved of trying to find the right thing to say though since Dazai is sighing and standing up straight. “Give me your knife,” he demands. 

“Dazai-”

“Why?” Chuuya asks, hand resting where said knife is hidden. 

“I’m going to kill the little bastard one way or another. Are you going to help me or not?” Dazai asks lowly, staring straight into Chuuya’s soul. Chuuya stares right back at him, going over his options. He slowly turns to look at you to find your rapidly shaking your head. 

“Knock yourself out,” Chuuya says as he suddenly takes it out and tosses it to the younger man. 

“Nakahara!” you hiss disappointedly, quickly reaching for the covered knife. You grab it at the same time as Dazai does, starting a power struggle with him over who gets the weapon. 

“(Y/n), let go,” Dazai warns. 

“No! This is the whole reason I came with you! To make sure you wouldn’t do something stupid like this!” 

“Chuuya,” Dazai says, making your eyes go wide. 

“No-” you start to argue, taking a step back from Chuuya as he comes towards you. “Chuuya, no!” you shout. You begin a power struggle with him now as he comes up behind you and grabs under your arms, preventing you from using them or getting away from him. “Chuuya, stop! Dazai, please!” you scream, struggling against the man. 

They both ignore you as Dazai walks over to the kid who is still unconscious against the tree. “I’m surprised you’re helping me,” Dazai comments as he stops in front of the boy. 

“My orders were to take him back alive, but hearing what he did to (Y/n)...” He pauses for a long moment. “I’d do anything for (Y/n)...” Chuuya confesses. “So, do what you want…”

“You aren’t doing this for me! You’re doing this against me!” you cry. You don’t know why you’re fighting so hard to save this kid’s life. Dazai’s right. He almost had you killed. 

“Very well,” Dazai responds, ignoring your cries. “I will.” 

“Osamu! Stop! Don’t do this! What would Oda say?” you scream. 

This has Dazai pausing his raised hand, thinking over your words. You start to relax, glad you got through to him. 

You go tense again though when his arm swipes in front of him in one fell swoop. Blood spurts from the new cut on the boy’s throat, covering the knife and Dazai in blood. You go limp against Chuuya, closing your eyes to prevent yourself from watching further as Q bleeds out from his sliced throat. 

You shove Chuuya off of you just as he wraps his arms around you for a hug now. You shake your head as you head up the stairs, a frown heavily etched on your face. “(Y/n)...” you hear him mumble, following after you. You hear another set of steps follow you and Chuuya’s after a moment, and your body goes tense. 

Just as you reach the entrance, something akin to a tentacle is wrapping around your throat. You cry out just as the tentacle silences you, picking you up and starting to throw you around like a ragdoll. 

“(Y/n)!” you hear two sets of voices scream. 

You’re suddenly thrown back to the moment when Atsushi was choking you. The anger in his eyes, the fear. You had no idea what was wrong with him other than the fact that he wasn’t acting like himself. He kept mumbling things, seeming to believe that you were the enemy. You couldn’t even use your ability against him, afraid that you’d hurt the poor man. That’s how you got into the situation. 

Unlike Atsushi though, this bitch can face your wrath. 

You use your ability against your opponent, causing him to grunt from the ground. You regain your ability to scream as you’re thrown into the building you came out of, the air leaving your lungs though as soon as you make contact. Feet pound towards you as they run at top speed, going from attacking the man to making sure you’re okay. You wheeze as you try to get your breath back, your hands holding your throat. 

“(Y/n)!” Dazai shouts, collapsing to the ground beside you and cradling your face in his hands. You’re getting deja vu.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, looking from between your eyes to down at your neck. He lets go of your face to move your hands to assess the damage to your neck. 

“I’m fine,” you croak, gently pushing at his chest to get him to stop. 

“Grantors of dark disgrace…” Chuuya begins to chant as he starts to slip off one of his gloves. As soon as you hear that first word, your eyes are going wide. 

“Chuuya!” you shout, trying to gain his attention. 

“Now you’ve done it,” Dazai singsongs, smirking to himself. 

“Nakahara, stop!”

“You need not wake me again…” he finishes the chant before his ability is activated, red lines starting to appear all over his body. 

“Shouldn’t have messed with our (Y/n),” Dazai continues to singsong without a care in the world. You punch his chest–receiving an “ow!” in response from him–as you stand up and move towards Chuuya. 

“Nakah-”

Just before you reach him, he’s taking a step forward and causing a big crack in the earth around his feet, a gust of wind almost blowing you away. 

“What am I even looking at right now…?” You turn to find Steinbeck leaning against a tree. Oh, so that’s where he went. 

Before you can even blink, Dazai is coming up behind him and holding the bloody knife he used to kill Q up against the blond’s throat. “Want me to fill you in, worker bee?” Steinbeck gulps and turns his head a bit to look at Dazai over his shoulder. “That right there is the fully realized form of Chuuya’s gift. His corrupted form allows him to manipulate nearby gravitons, creating a black hole which swallows everything in its path. The drawback is he relinquishes control, attacking in a blind rage until he wastes away.” Dazai then pauses, the two men watching Chuuya attack the man-creature. 

“And do you want to know why Chuuya is doing this?” he whispers into the man’s ear. You’re close enough to where you can hear them and you can see Steingbeck’s eyes flicker to you before Dazai even speaks. Steinbeck doesn’t even get to nod or verbally answer before Dazai is continuing. “Do you see the person right here with us? The beautiful one glowing under the light of the moon?” You tense when the attention is suddenly brought to you, your cheeks turning to fire at Dazai’s description of you. 

Steinbeck tilts his head a bit and makes eye contact with you. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple. He gives a faint nod, eyeing you for a moment. “Well, your partner here made the mistake of hurting them. You know, this knife I have pressed against you right now is bloody because I just got done killing someone who harmed them. Then, not five minutes later, your partner goes and makes the same mistake and does something similar that someone had done to (Y/n) before.” He sighs and clicks his tongue while shaking his head from side to side. “People just never learn.” 

“What does it matter if we hurt them or not? Y’all never got this worked up over other people!” Steinbeck mumbles, eyeing you warily as he speaks. He hisses when Dazai presses the knife even closer, a drop of blood gliding down his neck as Dazai presses the blade to his throat. 

“Ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he advises. He sets his head on the blond’s shoulder, also beginning to study you now. His eyes are completely different from Steinbeck’s though. Dazai’s hold what they always hold for you when he looks at you, no matter his mood, no matter the situation. 

Adoration. Fondness. Love.

At least, you like to think it’s love. 

“(Y/n) isn’t just anyone. We both love them, you see,” Dazai confesses, looking away from you to continue watching Chuuya. Your jaw completely drops at this, your heart suddenly going into overdrive. He can’t be serious. “Typically, I’d never say this out loud, let alone to the enemy. I don’t like people knowing my weaknesses, and neither does Chuuya,” Dazai continues his confession. “But, seeing Chuuya how he is right now, I doubt either of you will live for much longer,” he finishes his thoughts, picking his head up just as his partner figures out that he needs to attack the monster from the inside to defeat it. 

He finishes with the man, blowing him to smithereens and almost blowing you away with it. Once the wind dies down, you open your eyes to find that Dazai has, once again, cut an enemy’s throat. You sigh and turn away, deciding you’ll deal with him later. 

You quickly start running towards Chuuya as he manically laughs, watching as blood drips from his mouth and head. He starts to throw balls of energy around, causing small explosions when they land. 

“Nakahara!” you scream as you near him. He suddenly freezes in place, the black hole he was forming in his hand dissipating at the sound of your voice. He turns around just as you launch yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. 

There are only two things that can snap him out of this. Dazai’s ability and you. Not your ability. You. 

He’s stiff in your hold as you hug him, not back to himself yet. Your brows furrow when he pushes at your shoulders to get you to back up. Your eyes go wide when his lips are suddenly on yours, a gasp escaping you, to which he uses to his advantage to slide his tongue into your mouth. You taste the metallic of his blood, your hands pushing at his chest to no avail. 

You gasp again when he’s suddenly forced away from you, Dazai holding his wrist as he activates his ability. “Bastard,” he growls, glaring down at Chuuya. “You’re lucky I don’t beat you to hell for pulling a stunt like that-”

“He can’t control himself. You know that,” you remind Dazai as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand to clean Chuuya’s blood off of your lips. 

“He kisses you every time! How is that an accident!” Dazai snaps, glaring down at the redhead as his red lines finish receding. Chuuya grunts as he falls forward, only being held up by Dazai’s grip on him. 

You rush forward to catch him, letting him lean against you. “(Y/n)...” he mumbles into your collarbone. 

“I’m here,” you whisper back, smacking Dazai’s arm to get him to let him go. Dazai glares at you but let's go, placing his hands into his pockets. Chuuya grunts and collapses into your arms completely. You grunt right back at his weight and quickly lower yourselves to the ground. You even take it a step forward and lay back, Chuuya’s head resting on your chest. “I got you…” you whisper, staring up at the starry sky. He lets out a pleased sigh before going utterly limp against you. The last thing you see is Dazai standing above you with a disapproving look on his face before you close your eyes. 

*

When you wake up this time, it feels like deja vu again. You’re in the same room, in the same bed, with similar injuries, and with a worried brunet sleeping by your side. Only this time, he’s literally sleeping in the bed beside you instead of in the chair by the bed. 

Your face is pressed into Dazai’s chest and you can tell he’s asleep by his slow breaths. You wonder how long you’ve been out. Has Dazai been asleep long or did he do that thing where he worries about you so much that he can’t rest until he knows you’re okay and then passes out from exhaustion? 

Either way, you’re glad that you both were able to get some rest, even if it was accidental. You pull yourself back a bit to look up at him, noticing the few marks he has on him. Guess he didn’t get away scot-free either. 

You look up at his messy bedhead and want to touch his hair so badly. You remember what happened last time and decide not to wake him. You slowly back up and sit up, letting out a heavy sigh as you run your hand through your dirty hair. You could use a shower. 

Just as you’re about to get out of bed, a hand is grabbing your wrist, making you gasp. You swivel your head around to look at Dazai, only to find him seemingly still asleep. He looks like he’s asleep still, but you can tell he’s awake now. “Don’t leave me yet…” he mumbles, grip tightening on your wrist a tad. You sigh and lay back down, facing him and placing your arms between you both. 

He moves his grip from your wrist to your hand, intertwining your fingers. He opens his eyes and finally meets yours, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you see his brown eyes. You give him a soft smile, watching as he returns the expression. 

You watch as he opens his mouth, hoping he’s going to say something sweet and romantic. “Chuuya can suck it. I don’t see him sharing a bed with you,” he says with a pleased smirk. You scoff and let his hand go, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re such a child.” 

“Am not,” he argues with a pout. 

“Are too,” you argue right back. 

“Am not!” 

“Are too!”

“Then so are you!” he fires back, smirking at you. 

You open your mouth to retort before closing it again, squinting your eyes at the ex-mafia member. “Touché,” you cave, relaxing into the bed again. “But seriously, you two are like two friends fighting over your favorite toy,” you grumble. You purse your lips when he grabs ahold of your hand again. 

“First of all, we aren’t friends-”

You snort. “Yeah, okay-” you respond sarcastically. 

“Secondly,” he pauses, staring into your eyes, “You are our favorite toy.” He brings your hand to his face, kissing the back of it. “And I refuse to share,” he whispers decidedly, looking up from your hand to stare into your eyes with a determined look. 

“Don’t call me a toy,” you decide to respond with, ignoring the rest of his words. You also ignore the way your heart flutters at how possessive he is over you. He chuckles at that, shifting in the bed to get closer to you. 

“You started it,” he reminds. 

“Did not,” you defend. 

“Did too,” he coos, getting even closer. 

“Did not,” you mumble, his nose touching yours.

“Did too,” he whispers, breath fanning across your face. 

“Did-” your response is cut off by his lips meeting yours. You hum and lean forward, pressing your lips harder against his. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, keep your head angled just right for him to kiss you. 

“Don’t let him kiss you again,” he whispers once you two pull away. 

“I’ll think about it,” you coo, winking at him. He glares at you, wrapping his limbs around you and clinging to you like a koala. 

“Fine. You can’t ever leave this bed then.” 

“Not even to pee?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Nope.” 

“What if I just invite Chuuya to this bed?” you argue with his logic. 

“I’ll kill the ugly bastard if he even thinks about setting foot into this room,” he decides, making you laugh. 

“Right, sure,” you say sarcastically, cuddling into him. 

“I will!” 

“Whatever you say, baby,” you concede, letting out a yawn. 

“Did you just call me baby?” he asks. 

You quickly close your eyes and let out a heavy breath, pretending to be asleep. “Hey,” he says as he pulls back a bit to look at you. “Hey! I know you aren’t asleep already!” he shouts, shaking you a bit. You whine and smack at his hands, burrowing closer to him and hiding your face in his chest. He huffs and lets your arms go to wrap his arms back around you. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. He rolls his eyes when he feels you smile into his chest. He knew you weren’t asleep. 

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MASTERLIST

More with Dazai

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Special thanks to @celestair for being my super seggsy beta reader

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⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Spilled Ink

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Uhhh Marcus Pike as the world's softest tattoo artist that's it that's the fic.

Warnings: Lots of tattoo talk, obviously, which includes needles, tattoo guns, pain, mention of bleeding, etc.; reader is explicitly coded as neurodivergent because I said so; yearning; lots of kissing; Marcus Pike being a goddamn menace and he fucking knows it

A/N: @kedsandtubesocks made a post about Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike (original post HERE) and then I wrote 7.5k words in 12 hours, as one does. All credit for the idea goes to the amazing Erika who entrusted me with this idea and THANK GOD SHE DID because I don't think I could have gotten it out of my stupid brain otherwise. Header pics credit go to Erin @perotovar, who made these with Tattoo Artist Marcus Pike in mind and I'm just WOOFWOOFBARKBARKBARKBARKHOWL. Thanks also to @littlebirdsbookshelf who suffers through HOURS of me sending screenshots every time I write anything. Love you <3

Additional Note on Canon: I am pretending that we never got to see Marcus Pike in short sleeves in the show despite it happening twice. He has full sleeves on both his arms in this fic that he covered up during his time working at the FBI. Because sleeves are hot and I said so.

Masterlist

It’s not unusual, these days, to wander down the sidewalk staring at your phone. Some people are texting. Some people are reading the news–because hey, this is D.C. Others, like you on this brisk morning, are watching the little blue dot on a tiny representation of the city streets, trying to find the address you had typed into the search bar.

A text box pops up, informing you of your arrival, and you finally look up.

No wonder it took you so long to find the place–it’s hardly what you expected at all. You always picture tacky neon signs, bars on the windows, undesirables milling about on the street, smoking cigarettes.

Okay, so you admittedly don’t actually know much about tattoos.

All you know is that you want one–a fact you confessed to a friend over lunch the other week: a conversation that led you here.

“Okay, so get one,” she had said bluntly.

“It’s not all that simple,” you had protested. 

“Why?”

“It’s just… it seems like a lot. Mentally. Physically. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”

“They don’t hurt that bad,” your friend had insisted.

“I’m not just talking about that, I’m talking about… y’know, just everything. The noise. New people. Strangers touching me. It just doesn’t seem like something I’ll be able to do.”

“Oh. Ohhh. Because of the… yep. Actually I might have something for you,” she said, taking out her phone and scrolling through that app that drives you crazy–it’s overstimulation in a convenient package–full of noise, chaos, and flashing lights. 

She must have seen you pull a face, because she held out her hand placatingly. 

“Just finding the name of the place, hang on. It’s a shop right here in DC that went ‘viral’ for this video of a guy with autism who wanted a tattoo to commemorate his dad, but he was only comfortable lying on the floor–so the tattoo artist just… got on the floor with him! It was really cute, and anyway I guess he caters to all sorts of people, so… I dunno. Check it out.”

And here you are. Checking it out.

The words “Government-Issued Ink” are spelled out on large windows, and the punny name–apt for its location not far from the Capitol–makes you snort. 

The shop is bright, warm, and inviting–tearing down your outdated preconceptions that tattoo places must always be run-down, dark, and dingy. It’s also empty this early in the morning, save for a lone figure in the back, seated at a well-worn desk, his head pitched forward over his work.

He’s so enveloped in whatever he’s sketching that he must not have heard the light ringing of the bell as you had entered. You watch him for a few moments–taking in the graceful movements of his hand and the way his fingers grasp the pen. He’s dressed in a plain blue button-down dress shirt, which also doesn’t fit your assumed archetype of ‘Tattoo Artist.’ You can’t see his face; his head is leaning forward too much and a few short locks of dark brown hair obscure your view.

Suddenly wondering if you’re being incredibly rude, staring at someone without announcing your presence, you open your mouth to introduce yourself.

“Um.”

While not exactly eloquent, it serves its purpose. The man startles and looks up in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, jumping to his feet and letting the pen clatter carelessly to the desk. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s okay,” you shake your head rapidly. “I was, um…” You blink a few times, your nerves getting the better of you as the man comes around his desk to approach the front of the store.

“Interested in a walk-in consultation?” he offers, holding out his hands in a gesture that could either be an open invitation or a shrug.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I was thinking about getting, uh, a tattoo, and I was told this shop was… good. With tattoos. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” he chuckles, smiling warmly. 

“You know… with people who… might not be good at getting tattoos.”

“What makes you think you aren’t ‘good at getting tattoos?’”

“A hunch,” you shrug, expelling a little huff of laughter through your nose. “I was told to ask for a Marcus Pike?”

The man’s smile widens. “You’re looking at him.”

Oh. You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Marcus Pike is well-dressed and clean-cut, almost startlingly so. You scan up and down, looking for any sign that this man could possibly be a tattoo artist, but the only evidence you can find is a small black target inked between his thumb and forefinger on his right hand. Don’t… tattoo artists usually have more ink? Of course, with him almost completely covered from head to toe, you obviously can’t create a full picture of Marcus’s skin, but the fact that he wouldn’t look out of place in one of the nearby government buildings still takes you by surprise.

You realize you haven’t said anything in response, but Marcus doesn’t seem to be bothered by your deer-in-headlights stare. Instead, he grins again and steps sideways, extending his arm in a silent invitation to come deeper into the shop.

“Come on in. If you’d like, go ahead and sit wherever you want, and we can talk about it. No pressure,” he promises. “I’m not here to push ink on you like a used car salesman; I’m here to collaborate with you. Figure out what you really want. And, if what you want ends up being ‘nothing,’ I totally support that, too.”

There’s something innate and intrinsic about Marcus Pike that sets you completely at-ease. You cast your eyes around, taking in the eclectic seating in the shop–all mismatched, all different colors, styles, and shapes, but all looking incredibly comfortable and inviting. You settle on a giant turquoise beanbag that seems to swallow you whole when you sink down into it, and Marcus grins and sits down in the bright yellow saucer chair beside it. 

“So at the very least, you’re thinking about a tattoo,” Marcus leads. “Can you tell me about that?”

You nod, feeling encouraged by his openness. “Yeah, so… my mom, she passed away a couple of years ago, and it just seemed like I should… memorialize her in some way. Like, in a way that leaves its mark on me like she left a mark on me, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of getting some kind of permanent art that commemorates her.”

“That’s a great idea,” Marcus says softly. “Lots of people choose to do that after losing a loved one.”

“Yeah, the only problem is that I’m not good with um… noise, or people touching me, or… pain, really,” you confess. “I’m like, the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.”

Marcus chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Personally, I don’t believe that. I think anyone can get a tattoo done if they want it, provided they get it done in a way that feels safe and comfortable.”

“My friend, she uh, recommended your shop because apparently you’ve done some stuff for people with autism and it went viral on TikTok…” you ramble, “and I thought maybe that meant you’d be a good fit for… for me.”

Understanding flickers in Marcus’s expression, and he nods, a small smile spreading across his face. “I hope so,” he says with quiet earnesty. 

A beat passes–just a few seconds of silence–but something small and soft and warm settles down between the two of you, and the comforting feeling sinks down into the pit of your stomach and stays there, latent and waiting.

“So, let’s talk design,” Marcus announces. “Do you have anything in mind? Any images or ideas, however vague? I can do anything from replicating designs to building something completely from scratch for you.”

“I like the idea of it being a unique piece,” you tell him.

“I prefer original designs too,” he says. “Not to sound incredibly cheesy, but there’s no one like you, you know? In–In the general sense, of course.” He chuckles sheepishly, looking down at his hands. “I like knowing each person that comes in here leaves with something unique. Something all their own—I’m rambling,” he says quickly, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink. “One thing about me is that I talk too much. Anyway–did you have any ideas you can share with me about what you’d like?”

“I don’t have a good image in my mind,” you confess anxiously. After all, how can he build a design based on the swirling, disjointed images in your brain? “I think I want it to be colorful, like she was. And… I keep getting thoughts about, I dunno, the cyclical nature of life, something corny like that.”

Marcus laughs. “Sometimes the corny stuff is what sticks with us. So, colorful and commenting on the cyclical nature of life,” he lists off on his fingers, still grinning. “Anything else?”

“I’ve looked through your galleries online,” you tell him. “You have a few that look like watercolor paintings, and I really love how they look.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m gonna throw out an idea—Feel free to tell me ‘no,’ because I’m just brainstorming here, but I keep thinking about a tree of life. The leaves could easily be done in watercolor and could be any combination of colors you want.” His right hand twitches–as if reaching for a phantom pen–as he speaks, and his gaze seems to be fixed on a spot on the wall, his eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as he starts to speak faster.

“You could have the leaves and the roots connecting on the sides, making a circle, maybe even having her birth date and death date embedded in the roots…” He blinks rapidly a few times, as if dispelling the image from his head. “Anyway. That’s a possibility.”

“I think that’s amazing,” you say softly, watching Marcus with something like amazement in your expression. “Actually… I really like that idea. It sounds… perfect.”

“Oh,” he intones softly, looking at you in surprise as a bright, toothy smile breaks across his face. “Oh. Well then, let’s do it, huh? One final question: where do you envision getting it?”

“I was thinking on my shoulder. Here,” you indicate, pressing your hand to the skin of your upper arm. “That way it’s visible when I want it to be, but easily hidden if for some reason it needs to be.”

“That’s perfect,” Marcus says. “Plus, the circular design will go really well there. Okay. Great. Um, some things to know about the process. We’ll exchange emails, and you can contact me at any time with any questions, concerns, ideas, changes, anything. In the meantime, I’ll get started on a design for you, and I’ll share initial sketches that you can give feedback on before I move to the final stages of the design. It’ll take a couple of weeks, maximum, depending on any changes you ask for. My only request is that you’re always honest with your feedback–don’t tell me you like something when you don’t. I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings.” He grins widely. “After that, you book an appointment on a day that works best for you. I almost always book the whole day for the appointment to factor in time for copious breaks and making sure you feel comfortable. Does that work for you?”

You nod eagerly.

“Last question,” Marcus says. “Is it okay if I get a close-up picture of your upper arm? That way I can make sure it fits the curvature of your arm, it’s the right size, stuff like that.”

“Mhmm,” you nod again, pressing your lips together and trying not to look nervous. Thank god you wore a sleeveless top under your sweater.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he insists.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say quickly, removing just the one arm from your outer layer and pulling it aside. 

You watch as Marcus grabs a little ‘point-and-shoot’ digital camera from his desk and comes back to your side.

“This is just used for design purposes,” he promises. “I delete them after the design is done.”

“I trust you.”

His resulting expression could light an entire room. “Thank you,” he answers quietly. “Okay. Super close-up, just your arm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you confirm, and you hear the camera click several times.

“Actually,” Marcus says, still staring thoughtfully at your bare shoulder. “Would it be okay if I made a couple of little marks–washable marker, of course–to make sure the dimensions are how you want them?”

Oh. You normally don’t like it when people touch you. You knew it was going to happen eventually, obviously, because how else was he going to get the design onto your skin? But it was something you had planned on working yourself up to, not something you had to do today. On the other hand, something about Marcus’s entire bearing makes you inexplicably ache to be touched by him. 

“‘No’ is an acceptable response,” he interrupts your dithering with a quiet reassurance.

And actually, that works to seal the deal for you, and your decision is made in an instant. 

“Yes. You can. That’s fine.” And, to your surprise, you mean it.

Marcus seems just as surprised at your answer–his eyebrows shoot upward almost comically at your response.

“Okay,” he says softly. “That’s perfect. Hang on.” He jumps up again to retrieve a black marker–from what was clearly a children’s set of washable markers. He meets your eyes, and again you take in that sincere, earnest, patient look that endeared you to this man from the moment you entered the little shop.

“Is it okay if I touch your arm?” he asks quietly, still watching you carefully as you nod.

“Tell me if that changes,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to your shoulder again. His touch, when you feel it, is just as warm as you’d imagined. He’s gentle, cautious, and when he speaks again, his voice remains at that same, soft volume and tone. “I’m envisioning being from about here–” he makes a little black dot, “–to here. What do you think?” 

You nod. It’s the perfect size–large enough to cover your shoulder but stopping just above the point where the sleeve of a regular t-shirt would hit.

“That’s perfect.”

“Okay, so that’s–” he tsks softly, measuring the distance with his finger, “–about four inches, so that same distance across, and–” he makes two more marks on either side of your shoulder. “About like that. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you answer, smiling with enthusiasm. 

“Great! Let me just…” Marcus draws a few short lines denoting the proposed boundary of your design, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you at the cool tip of the marker on your skin. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “One more picture?”

At your nod, the camera clicks one last time. 

“Like I said, that’ll wash off with soap, no problem,” he promises with a smile. “Thanks for that, makes it easier to scale.” He grabs two business cards off his desk and hands them to you. “Can you write your email on this one for me? And you can keep the other one. Like I said, anything you need, just email me. And uh, barring that, you’ll be hearing from me in a week or so with a rough sketch. Okay?”

You scribble down your email and hand the card back to Marcus before pulling your sweater back over your bare arm. You slip the other card into your purse and rise to your feet. “Thanks,” you say, nodding to him.

“Hey, no–thank you,” Marcus returns. “Thanks for entrusting me with this. I mean it.”

Surprising yourself, you extend your hand toward him, and, when he takes it, you feel enveloped with warmth again.

“Thanks,” repeat, a little bit more breathlessly this time, before turning and hurrying out of the shop before you can embarrass yourself any further.

Your shoulder still tingles from his touch hours later.

Rather than it being a week before you hear from him, you receive an email from Marcus Pike just three days later.

Subject: Initial Sketch

Hello,

Please see attached. It’s just pencil for now, but I made a note of the general blocks of color I was thinking for the leaves. You’ll see what I mean when you open the file. Sorry, I know it’s a pretty rough sketch, I was just excited to get this to you. I look forward to your feedback!

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Eagerly, you open the attachment. First of all, there’s nothing “rough” about the sketch other than the fact that it’s just penciled in. The details are already so intricate, and you find yourself smiling in amazement as you take in the design.

It’s beautiful.

Brackets, each labeled with a different color in Marcus’s neat, tidy handwriting, surround the top of the tree. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Violet. 

At the bottom of the image is another handwritten note: *All the colors will blend together and the result should look like a rainbow.

Tears spring, unbidden, to your eyes, as you feverishly type out your response.

Subject: Re: Initial Sketch

Marcus,

I really don’t know what to say other than it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. Made me tear up. Look forward to seeing it in color.

Thanks again!

Not even five minutes go by before your phone vibrates with another email.

Subject: Re: Re: Initial Sketch

I’m sorry if I made you cry! Obviously wasn’t my intention but I’m glad the design evokes emotion :) I’ll move forward with the design as-is and you should hear from me soon with a full-color image.

Marcus :) 

You can’t wait. The next week and a half stretches out excruciatingly, but finally, on a Wednesday evening, you receive another email. 

Subject: Final Design

Hey there!

Hope you’ve been doing well. Thought you might like to see the final design of your tattoo ;) See attached and let me know if anything needs to be changed. Be critical! Don’t hold anything back! Once we agree on a final piece, we’ll get you on the calendar.

Best regards,

Marcus :) 

Your mind skims over the fact that Marcus used a winking-face emoji in your email, because you honestly aren’t equipped to process that right now, and open the attachment instead. This time, you start crying in earnest. It’s perfect. The colors are so vibrant, and they make the tree look as though it’s in a constant state of movement. Your mom’s birth and death dates are entwined seamlessly into the roots themselves, in a way that makes them not readily apparent at first glance, but seeming to just appear out of nowhere upon further inspection. 

Subject: Re: Final Design

Marcus,

If I had any critical feedback, I would share it, I promise. But I have nothing. This is everything I’d imagined and more, and it means the world to me.

Thank you so much.

After a few more messages back and forth, you settle on a date one month out. 

You can’t wait.

As excited as you’ve been for the past month, when you step foot back into Marcus’s little tattoo parlor, the air of finality makes your body thrum with anxiety.

You’re really doing this.

Marcus is at the back of the shop, busying himself with setting up his workspace when you enter. Today, he’s wearing a dark green henley that looks just as soft as he is, and seems to complement his features even more. As soon as he hears the chimes, his head snaps up, and he grins widely. 

“Hey!” he calls out excitedly. “Just getting everything ready. Do you want something to drink before we get started? I’ve got water, juice, soda…” he trails off, waving his hand in the direction of a mini-fridge in the corner. 

“I’m okay for now.”

“Sounds good, but when we take a break, you should have some juice or something else with a bit of sugar in it, okay?” You nod, and he continues. “Okay! Where do you want to sit?”

“Don’t I have to sit in the chair over there?” you ask, gesturing to the traditional chair and bench near Marcus’s work table. 

“Not at all,” he protests. “The table is mobile, I bring it to wherever you feel comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “I’ll go ahead and sit in the chair, though.” Of all the options, it looks like the easiest–you aren’t entirely sure how Marcus would be able to comfortably tattoo you whilst sitting on a bean bag chair. 

“Your choice,” he insists, spreading his hands out in an open and unguarded stance.

You settle in the chair and he sits down on a rolling stool beside you. 

“Okay, so I’ve got a stencil of your design here,” Marcus says, holding up a paper with an outline of the tree for you to see. “It’ll transfer onto your skin exactly how you want it to go, and I’ll just trace it. Make sense?”

“Yep,” you nod.

“Before I do that, though, I have to make sure nothing interferes with the design, including tiny little hairs.” He holds up a pink safety razor. “Are you comfortable with me doing this for you?”

At your tentative nod of consent, Marcus leans forward and gently swipes the razor up and down your shoulder until he’s satisfied. His eyes dart between your skin and your face the entire time–making sure you’re still with him. After he’s done, he talks you through the stencil–confirming its location, gently applying it to your shoulder, and then holding up a mirror for you to approve. 

“It’s great,” you whisper excitedly.

Marcus returns your smile and begins to absentmindedly roll up his sleeves in preparation to start working–-and the question about tattoos that you’d asked yourself upon first seeing the man is suddenly and unexpectedly answered.

You can’t help the soft sound of surprise that escapes from you when you catch the colorful patchwork of designs on both of his forearms, disappearing under the pushed-up henley and suggesting that they go all the way up. 

Marcus catches you staring and grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I didn’t know,” you say softly. “You keep them covered up.”

“Force of habit,” Marcus shrugs. “I had a desk job for a long time.”

“Doing what?” you ask, curiously. You can’t see the man doing anything but this.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he jokes, winking in your direction. 

Ignoring how the wink makes your heart stutter in your chest, you bark out a laugh at his answer. “What? Were you like a secret agent or something?” you tease.

“Special Agent,” he corrects, grinning. 

“Get out,” you deadpan. “I can’t imagine you as a Fed.”

Marcus shrugs, giving you another one of his boyish, crooked smiles. “Would’ve been fifteen years this year had I not finally seen the writing on the wall and run for the hills a couple of years ago.”

“What made you leave?” 

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “That’s a long story. How sensitive are you to noise?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject.

“Uh, I dunno. Kind of depends on the day and the situation,” you shrug.

“Fair. Well, I usually let newcomers listen to what the gun actually sounds like, so there are no surprises. If it’s too loud, I do have noise canceling headphones.”

And miss out on hearing Marcus’s soft-spoken reassurances? No matter how loud the tattoo gun is, you’d rather endure it just to be able to hear him talk. 

Marcus turns the instrument on, and the room is filled with a mild buzzing sound. On your worst days, admittedly, it would probably grate upon your nerves, but you’re feeling relaxed, comfortable, and excited about your new tattoo.

“It’s not bad,” you tell him truthfully. 

“Perfect,” he grins. “Are you all set to get started?”

Heart rate increasing with pleasant anticipation, you nod giddily. 

“I’m obviously gonna be touching your arm a lot,” Marcus says, “so let me know if you need a break from that, the noise, the needle, anything.” Seeing your solemn nod, he continues. “I’m gonna do a little dot right here to let you see how it feels, okay?” He gently touches his index finger to your skin to indicate where. 

“Okay.”

The gun turns on again, and Marcus presses it lightly against your skin for just a second before pulling back.

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I thought it would hurt more,” you confess.

Marcus laughs. “Well, the same feeling over and over again in a small area can start to be pretty uncomfortable. I’ll check in regularly to make sure you’re still doing fine. Good?”

You smile widely. “I’m really excited.”

His smile softens, his gaze becoming warmer and more tender. “I’m glad.”

His other hand gently cradles your arm as Marcus leans in, a look of intense concentration settling over his features as he begins the design. Engrossed in his work, you take the time to study his forearms. They’re a hodgepodge of designs, clearly done at different times and by different artists, but you can see themes throughout. He likes classic styles, you can tell, and in between some of the more traditional works you can see beautiful references to an assortment of famous paintings. A Dali melting clock here. A sunflower clearly inspired by Van Gogh there. On his opposite bicep, you can just barely make out the side of one design that looks like it might be of a Greek statue. Tilting your head, you realize it’s Nike alighting on the bow of a warship, and you inhale sharply. That’s one of your favorite sculptures.

“Still okay?” Marcus asks, glancing up at you with concern in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You shake your head quickly. 

“Just checking,” he says softly. “Try to be just a little more still, okay?”

“Sorry,” you repeat, laughing sheepishly. 

“Don’t be, you’re doing great.”

You try to fight the way your entire body seems to grow warm at Marcus’s praise, but you can’t stop the way the feeling stampedes through you. You’re being ridiculous, you chastise yourself. He’s doing his job, and you’re getting all moony-eyed.

In order to distract yourself, you continue playing ‘Spot the Famous Artwork’ on Marcus’s sleeves–although, as distractions go, it’s not your best work. You can’t help but focus in on the way his forearm cords with muscle as he holds the tattoo gun, controlling each movement so delicately and precisely, creating a beautiful, intricate design on your shoulder.

After finding a bit of yellow patchwork that's clearly a reference to Gustav Klimt's The Kiss near his right elbow, you break your silence.

“You like art, huh?”

It seems like a stupid thing to say to a fucking tattoo artist of all people, and you immediately kick yourself internally for saying something so obvious. 

Marcus glances up, and, seeing how your eyes are focused on his own ink, smiles. “Always have,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to your shoulder. “Some of those are years-old.”

“Is that how you got into being a tattoo artist?” you ask.

“Sort of,” he answers, brow pinched in concentration as he continues working. “I uh, apprenticed for a shop in college to pay the bills before going to Quantico for training.”

“You’re really talented,” you tell him. “I was surprised to find out you haven’t been doing this your whole life.”

Marcus hums his appreciation as he carefully fills in a root. 

“Can I ask what made you join the FBI instead of opening your own place after college?”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose. “Parents would have killed me, going to college and then doing nothing with it.”

“Running a small business isn’t exactly doing nothing,” you point out.

“Well, public opinion on tattoos wasn’t what it is now,” Marcus says. “They were scandalized by my apprenticeship, but it paid the bills, so they couldn’t complain too loudly.”

“Was it them who wanted you to join the FBI?”

“Mm, not so much,” he murmurs. “It was more like ‘whatever you want to do, so long as you can make a lucrative career out of it.’ Being an artist wasn’t one of those things, so in lieu of becoming one myself, I decided I wanted to protect them instead.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Protect them how?”

Marcus grins up at you and waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Art crimes,” he answers. “Being an art detective was kind of in the limelight in the early ‘nineties after the famous Gardner Museum theft, and I got swept up in the craze.”

“So you spent the last fifteen-ish years recovering stolen art,” you fill in for him.

“Stolen, forged, looted, illegally traded or smuggled…” Marcus offers, not breaking his concentration again. He wasn’t wrong–the repeated drag of the needle across what felt like the same square centimeter of your skin was starting to wear on you. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, forcing the discomfort out of your tone.

Noticing the tightness in your voice immediately, Marcus’s movements stop. “Feeling okay?”

You shrug.

The gun switches off.

“You gotta be honest about how you’re feeling,” he reminds you. “I might be able to create designs based off of customers’ vague descriptions, but that doesn’t make me a mind-reader.”

“It’s a little uncomfortable, but I can endure it,” you insist.

“There’s no need to endure something that’s painful,” Marcus argues with an amused smile. “Even if it involves choosing to repeatedly jamming a needle into your skin.”

You can’t help but laugh, and your heart swells when he joins you.

“C’mere,” he says. “Let me show you something.”

You let him lead you to the other side of the shop, where he stops in front of a large storage cabinet that you'd assumed held various supplies. When he opens it, however, you find that isn’t the case at all.

No, the entire cabinet is filled to the brim with a collection of stuffed animals just as eclectic and varied as the furniture. There's also a couple of shoeboxes filled with every manner of fidget toy you could ever imagine. 

"You can grab one, if you want. I know it might feel kind of goofy, but I promise they help with the pain."

"Okay," you breathe. Your gaze lingers first on the IKEA shark, then on a very soft-looking cactus with an adorable grumpy expression, but when your gaze lands on the largest and arguably oddest toy in the collection, your hands can't help but move toward it. 

"The big guy, huh?" Marcus laughs, taking the giant squid off of the shelf and placing it in your arms. You have to laugh at how large and ungainly it is; its massive black eyes stare vacantly back at you, but the effect is dopey, rather than menacing. 

"Where do you get all of these?" you ask in amazement. 

"Most of them are gifts from past clients, including that one," Marcus says, indicating the squid. "But I think he originally came from the Smithsonian. I was told his name is 'Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.'"

"Thank you," you say in a small, appreciative voice.

"'S'fine," Marcus shrugs. "Feel up to continuing?"

You nod, looking down at your partially-inked shoulder. "Guess you didn't get very far before I had to stop," you remark, somewhat self-deprecatingly. 

"It's not a race," your artist says earnestly. "We've got the whole day, and we go at your pace. You're paying me, after all." Another wink in your direction.

"Yeah," you nod, confidence growing again. "Yeah, okay." You plop down in your seat, with Cthulhu in your lap, and Marcus takes his place beside you. 

“Gonna turn this back on again,” he announces as the now-familiar buzz fills the room, “and I’m gonna touch your arm–” his fingers wrap warmly and gently around your skin, “–annnd here we go.” 

The needle scratches insistently against your skin, but it isn’t so bad–not really, not with the hilarious giant squid on your lap and Marcus’s gentle, soothing voice in your ear. He talks while he works, sometimes asking you questions about your own life–to which he listens intently and always seems to have follow-up questions–and sometimes telling you stories of his own. You discuss art, obviously, but also music, books, movies, and baseball of all things.

You find yourself wondering if he has this type of easy rapport with everyone who comes in, but you assume he must. He might be the most disarming person you’ve ever met, and it’s hardly a stretch to believe he’s like this with everyone. Still, there’s an ugly, jealous part of you that wishes the connection between you was unique, special. That he’s only this warm with you. 

Marcus was right–squeezing the stuffed toy on your lap is a perfect distraction from the discomfort of the needle, and before long, the sensation fades into the background. As the time drags on, though, the persistent drone of the tattoo gun causes an ache to creep in and settle between your eyes. You take in a deep breath through your nose, count to three, and exhale slowly through your mouth.

Marcus glances up, watching you for a split-second before cutting power to the gun and stretching his back with a satisfied sigh. 

“Break time,” he announces. “Hand’s getting a bit sore.” He shoots you a knowing glance and another one of those crooked smiles. “And you should probably have a little something to drink, maybe a snack.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you say gratefully as he walks over to the little fridge.

“Apple juice?” he asks, holding up a little juice box that looks slightly comical in his large hands. When you nod enthusiastically, he hands it to you.

His fingers brush yours.

If it were anyone else, you’d recoil, but it’s him. It might just be the forced proximity, but…

You’re developing quite the crush on Marcus Pike.

Shoving the thought aside for the moment, you stab the straw into the little hole and take a long sip. Marcus settles down beside you with his own choice–a little can of vegetable juice–and holds it up in a silent ‘cheers.’

Feeling emboldened, you ask the question that’s been burning in your mind since you started.

“So what made you leave the whole ‘helping other artists’ thing behind and start a tattoo business instead?”

Marcus presses his lips together, and for a moment, you fear you’ve crossed a boundary. Just before you’re about to apologize profusely, though, he speaks.

“Have you ever just… woken up one morning, and realized that everything you were working toward, everything you thought you wanted in life… was a lie?”

“I… I don’t know,” you confess quietly, surprised at the emotion behind his words.

“Happened to me,” he laughs softly. “I had moved to DC for what I thought was my dream job, with who I thought was–” he shakes his head, as though dispelling an unpleasant thought. “I had spent my entire life checking boxes: College degree? Check. Well-paying job? Check. House? Check. Check, check check. I spent so much time trying to get ahead, like life was some kind of game to be won. If I said all the right things, did all the right things, if I did everything right… I’d have the life I wanted.”

“What was the life you wanted?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was bullshit, is what it was. Saw one too many rom-coms as a kid, I suppose. I thought I was after the picket fence, the dog, the wife and two-point-five kids, that sort of thing. And one morning I woke up, realized that… that relentless pursuit of something I couldn’t even hold–it was all bullshit.”

“So you just… quit?”

“I quit. I wanted to create things again. I wanted to feel inspired. After a bit of uh… frantic soul-searching before I ran out of money entirely, I sold my stupid, too-big condo that I hated and bought this shop instead.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, I’m not bankrupt yet,” Marcus says dryly.

“No, I mean… did you feel inspired again?”

“I did. I do. So very much so,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and that comfortable warmth that had settled in between you the first time you had met him… grows. Mutates. Until the warm, tingling feeling feels a lot more like electricity.

An unspoken moment seems to pass through you, but then Marcus clears his throat roughly, setting the empty can aside and standing again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wanna keep going?”

Breathlessly, you nod. 

In no time at all, you’re settled back in the chair with one of Marcus’s warm, strong, large hands cradling your arm as the other gently wields the tattoo gun. As he starts to fill in and blend the colors, the pain starts to increase, and you worry one of the fuzzy tentacles back and forth in your hand as you grit your teeth.

“I know, I know,” Marcus soothes quietly. “The color’s the worst part, but you’re being so good for me.”

It helps you to watch him work, so you do. He’s blending in the colors now, and you watch with interest as it starts to take shape. It’s so mesmerizing that you hardly even notice the buzz of the gun or the light sting of the needle anymore.

“And you said you ‘weren’t good at tattoos,’” he teases gently, noticing your obvious interest. 

“Did I say that?” you laugh, teasing back.

“I believe your words were, ‘I’m like the worst candidate for getting a tattoo that exists.’” he reminds you. “And look at you now, huh?”

You duck your head at his praise, unable to withstand the intensity and honesty in his gaze.

“Doing okay after all, I guess,” you say with a sheepish smile.

“You’re doing amazing,” Marcus corrects, smiling warmly. “The type of client any artist dreams of.”

You don’t know how to respond to the things this man says to you. Stunned and at a loss for words, you stare awkwardly at your hand where it still wraps around Cthulhu, Lord of the Deep.

“I’m sorry.” The words are soft, concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just meant that your enthusiasm and your curiosity is the stuff that makes me want to be an artist in the first place.”

“Are you saying I inspire you?” you try to tease, but it falls flat.

Just audibly, over the hum of the tattoo gun, you hear his whispered response. 

“Yes.” 

As Marcus wipes away the last of the stray ink on the purple bit of tree, the tattoo gun suddenly switches off. The silence is almost shocking, and you blink rapidly in confusion.

“Break time?” you ask.

Marcus chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It’s all done.”

“It is?” you ask, although you can see the answer for yourself in the large mirrored wall to your right. 

“How’s it feel?” he asks.

“My arm kind of aches,” you confess, “but oh my God, Marcus… it’s beautiful.”

It’s his turn to preen under your praise, the tips of his ears blushing pink as he grins back at you.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “Here, let me give you a little something for the pain.” 

He squeezes a glob of light-green cooling gel and coats the angry skin with the barest of touches. “Still okay?” he asks, glancing up at you for confirmation.

After the harshness of the needle, the soft press of his fingers is more soothing than ever, and you have to resist the urge to sigh and melt into his touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“You’re going to want to keep this covered for a couple of hours, up to overnight,” Marcus says as he carefully applies a dressing to your shoulder–still softly, but more businesslike than before as he walks you through all of the instructions for care. “Once you take this off tomorrow, you’ll probably see some fluid leaking from it–that’s totally normal. It’s blood, plasma, and extra ink, and it should stop after a few days before it starts to scab over.

 “You’ll want to keep it from drying out; I’d recommend scent-free, dye-free lotion if you don’t already have some,” he continues. “Wash it twice a day and put lotion on after. When it starts to scab, I can’t stress this enough: don’t pick the scabs.” He gives you a serious look. “Repeat that back to me.”

“Don’t pick the scabs.”

“If you do, you could cause it to scar, or even pull out the ink. One more time for me,” he prompts, and you get the feeling that this is always the sticking point in his speech.

“Don’t pick the scabs,” you repeat.

“It’ll take three to four months for the lower layers of skin to completely heal,” Marcus tells you. “During that time, keep it out of the sun, keep it hydrated, and you’re in the clear.”

“And don’t pick the scabs,” you say teasingly. 

Marcus winks at you. “Exactly. Any other questions for me?”

“No, just… thank you. It’s amazing,” you tell him. “You did such an incredible job.”

“Hard not to, when I have such a beautiful canvas.”

Your eyes dart up, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes, but all you can see is heartfelt sincerity. You swallow thickly, and he tracks the movement, his eyes dropping down, then back up to meet your eyes. Is it… not just you? Does he feel it, too? Realization slams through you and threatens to overload all of your systems. Marcus’s lips are parted slightly, and the look in his eyes… it’s desire.

“Marcus…”

“Wait,” he says urgently. “Hang on. Come… come over here for a minute, let me–” he dashes awkwardly over to the till on the counter and gives you your total. Frowning in confusion–he wants to do this now? Interrupting that electric moment that had passed between you?–you dutifully swipe your card and numbly take the receipt.

“Now you’re no longer my client,” Marcus explains softly. “I–sorry–I was about to throw caution to the wind and kiss you, and I didn’t… I didn’t want to be unethical, I–”

“Yes,” you say simply, giving your response to his un-asked question.

It’s all he needs to stride forward, gently take your face in his warm palms, and, seeing no hesitation in your eyes even as he searches your face desperately—presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is as soft and as tender as the man himself, which hardly surprises you. Your eyes slip closed as his lips move against you with aching caution. He’s careful in all things, including this–taking your cues, giving you the lead, letting you feel everything he’s giving you.

All too quickly, he pulls back–but his eyes only sweep your face again, a growing smile on his lips as he sees nothing but want reflected back at him. 

When he lowers his lips to yours again, he’s less gentle. One large hand leaves your face too hook around your waist, pulling you closer, closer–and when the proximity causes you to gasp softly, Marcus is ready. His tongue gently slips between your parted lips and you practically melt into him. When your knees buckle, his strong arms are what keep you standing upright, and still–

He can’t seem to stop kissing you. 

You break before he does–pulling back to suck in a few shaky, heaving breaths, and he smiles through his own labored breathing.

“I wanted–I–” he begins, before hastily pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as if he can’t help but do so. 

“I’ve thought of you,” he tries again. “I thought of you like this for the last month,” the confession finally spills out. “I wanted to–wanted to kiss you so badly all day, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t let myself.” He kisses you again. “But now,” he promises, whispering the words against your mouth. “Now I’m gonna get my fill.”

To punctuate his statement with one of your own, you slant your head and deepen the kiss, wrapping one hand around Marcus’s neck and pulling him closer still. He makes a soft noise in his throat, and the grip on your waist tightens. You lose yourself completely to the feel of his tongue sliding slowly against yours, until he suddenly pulls back.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he whispers–although he’s still smiling. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner, first.”

“So ask me,” you say with a giggle.

“Come have dinner with me,” Marcus murmurs, shaking his head in quiet amusement as he steals another gentle kiss. “Right now. Tonight.”

“You might have to open all the doors,” you tease. “My arm hurts.”

Another kiss.

“I’m wounded that you think I wouldn’t open every door regardless.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?” you remark with a wry smile.

Another. 

“Well,” Marcus grins wolfishly. He places on last, lingering kiss on your lips and then makes a show of offering his arm. “Not always.”

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 5

Series Masterlist

➪in which you spend the night with the beresfords, and once joey is asleep, you discover that your crush on clay may not be entirely one-sided.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 7.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late, the traffic was so bad today, the taxi driver gave me dirty looks the whole ride here,” you say as you quickly enter Clay’s house. You had an overnight bag thrown over your shoulder and he didn’t know why the sight made him so happy, but he was smiling when you added, “I got this for Joey. I saw he didn’t have it in his growing collection.”

You lift your hand and reveal the book Oh, the Places You’ll Go! by Doctor Seuss. Clay’s smile grew at that as he took it from you. “You didn’t need to get him anything,” he said, still grateful for it nonetheless.

“I know,” you say with a shy smile as you shrug off your jacket. “I wanted to.”

Clay takes your jacket from you as he says, “Thank you. He’ll love it,” he hangs it up on a hook before guiding you upstairs. “Actually, he’ll probably want you to read it to him instead of me.”

You shake your head as you ascend the stairs. “I don’t think that’s true. You’re his best friend, after all,”

“I think you’re underestimating how attached that kid has grown to you,” Clay laughs as you both enter the living room. “I tried reading to him earlier and he said I don’t read as good as his babysitter does.” 

You gasp and laugh, too. “He did not,” 

“He did,” was all he was able to say before Joey finally caught sight of you.

“Y/n!” He said, excitement lacing his voice as he slid off the couch and ran over to you. He mispronounces your name again, but you adored the way he said it so you don’t bother correcting him. “Hi!”

You grin at him and drop your bag in order to pick him up. “Hi, buddy,”

Joey looks between you and his dad and he knew he was probably wondering why you were here when it wasn’t a school day. “Remember I told you Y/n was going to stay with us while grandma is away?” Joey nods and he continues. “She’ll be here all night and is going to get you ready for school tomorrow.”

His eyes light up as he hugs you. “All night?” He asked, his excitement to have you here for multiple days at a time radiating from his little body. 

“All night,” you confirm, looking over at Clay as Joey hugs you again. 

-

“I went out this morning and got you your diet coke,” Clay announced as he leaned back in his chair at the dining room table. He was wearing more casual clothing, casual being a white tee and khakis, and to see him not wear a suit or tie for the first time since meeting him had you feeling a bit lightheaded. “The shelves on the fridge door are all yours.”

You smile at him as you finish your pasta. “Thank you,” you say as you also lean back. “You didn’t have to do that, though. I’d be happy to just bring something with me whenever I’m here.”

Clay shook his head as he looked over at Joey, who was sitting beside him. “You take care of this guy while I’m at work, and I know how hard that can be. It’s the least I can do,” he joked and the messy smile his son gave him had your own growing. 

“All done,” he says as he pushes away his plate. “Can I go play now?” 

Clay nods and helps him down from the chair, watching as he runs around the table and out of the room. He shakes his head as you laugh quietly and stand up, collecting the dishes as you do so. “Oh, you don’t have to clean up, you’re a guest,” he tried to take them from you but you dodge his hand with a playful grin. 

“I don’t mind,” you say as you carry them into the kitchen. “You bought me my diet coke, after all. It’s the least I can do.”

Clay laughed as he followed you. “As fun as it is, you got to stop thinking you owe me something after I do the bare minimum for you,” 

You set the plates and forks down into the sink and turn to him. “I could say the same thing to you,” you tease with a raised brow and he turns away after realizing you made a good point. “That’s what I thought.”

You face the sink again and turn the water on, feeling him still looming behind you. 

Glancing back at him, you offer, “How about I wash and you dry? It’ll get done quicker that way,”

“Sure,” he says as he walks over to you. “But on one condition.”

You look up at him as he stands right next to you. He was so close you could smell his cologne and the scent made you feel the smallest bit dizzy. “What is it?” You ask after a few seconds, finally able to find your voice again after zoning out a bit. 

He leans in and takes a plate from you. You hadn’t been this close to him since the night you thought you were being given the chance to kiss him, but then got the message quickly when he pulled away before anything happened. He wasn’t pulling away now, though, and you felt lightheaded again. “You watch a kids movie with Joey and I,” he requested and you laughed, turning back to the sink as you washed another plate.

“You’re pushing your luck with that one,” you joked back as he laughed under his breath and set the dry plate aside before taking another one from you.

Half an hour later you were sitting beside Clay on the couch watching The Lion King. Joey was perched on his lap as he stared up at the screen with his big blue eyes as if it was the coolest movie he had ever seen. You supposed it was. It’s one of your favorites, as well, so you were quite happy with the selection. 

 Of course you cried when Mufasa died, and while Clay held back his laughs, Joey reached out and took your hand in his much smaller one, and you cried a bit harder at that because how a four year old could be this sweet was beyond your comprehension. 

Popcorn was scattered around the carpet as the movie ended and the credits rolled. Joey had fallen asleep during the last few scenes, and had migrated half his body onto your lap. “God, Clay, your kid is cute,” you say quietly as you run your fingers gently through Joey’s light hair.

Clay smiled over at you, running his hand up and down his son’s back. “He gets it from his mom,” 

You lean over so your lips are close to the side of his head, your hand moving down to cover Joey’s ear. “Bullshit,” you whisper, grinning at the laugh that escapes Clay. “He’s a spitting image of his dad.”

His face flushed a bit and he had to look away, instead focusing his attention on Joey. “You’re sweet,” he said to you as he picked him up, careful not to wake him. You blushed a bit as you watched him stand up. “I’m going to go put him to bed. Are you down for another movie? Preferably one not made for four year olds? Or are you too tired?”

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms. “The Lion King is not for four year olds,” you defend your comfort movie, getting another laugh out of Clay. “And you’re the parent here, old man. Are you sure you’re not too tired?”

Clay shook his head, tightening his hold on Joey as he walked away from the couch. “Old man, huh?”

“The oldest,” you say as he glances back at you.

“Just pick another movie,”

He headed upstairs while you browsed through his movie collection, noting that even though he is still in his twenties, he had the film taste of a dad in the eighties. 

Star Wars Episode VI, Legends of the Fall, Braveheart, The Outsiders, Uncle Buck, Ghostbusters.

Jesus Christ. 

You grab The Outsiders and sit back down on the couch, picking through the kernels in the bowl as you wait for Clay to return. 

-

“Want me to make some more?” Clay asked once he came back downstairs and entered the living room. 

You hold the bowl out to him with a sheepish smile. “Since you’re offering,”

He takes it from you and walks into the kitchen, making sure to grab you a diet coke once the bowl is full again. Clay hands you the can before sitting next to you, much closer than before, and sets the bowl on his lap. “What’d you pick?” He asked just as the long opening credits of The Outsiders appeared on the screen. 

“It’s one of my favorites,” you smile your pretty smile at him and steal a few pieces of popcorn, setting the diet coke aside. 

“Yeah?” He hummed as he gathered a couple pieces in his own hand. “Have you read the book?”

You give him an unimpressed look and answer as you chew, “Of course I’ve read the book,” 

The way you said it made it sound like that was the most obvious answer in the world, and Clay laughed as he tilted his head back to drop the popcorn into his mouth. He could feel your eyes on him the whole time, and when he looked at you and caught you staring, his smile grew at the way your face flushed. 

You were so cute, and this was beginning to feel like a date rather than two adults hanging out on a professional level. 

Would it really be so bad? Maybe it was time for Clay to forget about Sam and how she left both him and Joey and never looked back. Maybe it was time for him to move on and close that chapter of his life. Really, how bad could it be?

You look away and stare at the screen just as the drawn out credits finally wrap up, and Clay knew he should be focusing on the movie, but how could he when his mind was consumed with thoughts of you? 

Halfway through the movie, the popcorn was eaten and you had moved a bit closer to him. Your hand was inches from his thigh as you gazed at the TV, your index finger tracing random shapes on the cushion. 

Clay could not focus on anything other than the fact that he wanted to take your hand in his and how he wanted to be holding you right now. 

God, was he always like this? Was he always this desperate for affection and touch? Had he really gone that long without it? 

He felt a bit pathetic as he tore his eyes off your hand and tried to pay attention to the movie. Sitting through The Lion King was a lot easier as he had Joey there to break the tension, but now that Clay is alone with you, he felt a bit on edge. 

He was so close to you, he could smell your sweet perfume and hear every breath you took. 

Maybe he was imagining it, but Clay was sure you were slowly moving even closer to him. The amount of will-power he had to use to not take you into his arms in that second was insane. Maybe he is stronger than he thought. 

As casually as he could, Clay lifted his arm and draped it across the back of the couch, and he knew he wasn’t imagining the small smile that formed on your lips as he did so. 

His attention was completely off the movie at this point, and it seemed like yours was slipping away from it as well as you boldly inched even closer to him until your back was pressed against his side, and your arm was draped over his lap. He laughed as he asked, “Are you comfortable?”

He knew you were smiling as you said, “Very,”

And you stayed like that for the rest of the movie. The back of your head was resting against his chest as the end credits began rolling and now he was wishing that the movie went on for a bit longer so he could sit with you like this for a few more minutes. 

He could smell the coconut scented conditioner you used and he knew he could easily become addicted to it, like he was beginning to become addicted to your vanilla perfume. 

A few seconds pass before you sit up but stay close to him, and when you turned your head and looked up at him, he didn’t move away. He didn’t give you the wrong idea like he did last time. He wouldn’t.

Your eyes stay fixated on his as you lean in a bit, and Clay was powerless to stop his hand from moving to gently caress the side of your head. “I’m not the only one feeling this,” he murmured. “Please, tell me I’m not the only one feeling this.”

This should feel wrong. You were just here to look after his kid, not satisfy his need for affection and his desire to be wanted.

But as you shook your head and gave him a small, barely-there smile, he didn’t care about anything else. 

It didn’t feel wrong at all, so why should he put a stop to it?

“You’re not,” you say back, just as quietly, reaching up and placing a gentle but firm hand on the side of his neck. “I feel it, too.”

Clay’s breath hitched in his throat as you brushed your nose against his, your lips not quite touching yet but still making his head spin just a bit. 

“Since the first day,” you added and the amount of happiness that filled him was too much to describe. He hadn’t been imagining all of this, the spark he felt was there for you, too. All the times he caught himself feeling guilty for pining over you weren’t in vain. 

“We shouldn’t,” he regretfully said, giving you an out. He was the older one out of the two of you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel pressured into doing or saying anything you didn’t really want to. 

A smile formed on your lips. “We really shouldn’t,” you agreed before you were both closing the distance and connecting your lips. 

It was a light pressure at first, with both you and Clay testing each other and seeing if you had crossed a line. When he moved closer to you and kissed you a bit harder, you didn’t stop him and instead returned the kiss with a sense of need he had never felt before, not even with his own wife. 

It didn’t feel rushed with you. Didn’t feel forced. 

After pressing another chaste kiss to his lips, you pull away. Slowly, your eyes open and meet his own, and you both wear matching, dumb grins. “Sorry,” Clay whispered and you shook your head.

“Sorry,” you repeated as you stood up. “It’s late, I should go to bed.”

He nodded, sitting up and taking your hand in his. You share a knowing look as his thumb traces various shapes onto the back of your hand, and he knew that you both wanted to do that again, but were trying to have some self control. 

With a final squeeze, he lets you go and watches as you turn and head towards the stairs, glancing back at him once before you were out of his sight. 

-

You ended up tossing and turning all night long and probably got no more than a couple hours of sleep. 

Your body was on fire and full of energy after the kiss you shared with Clay on his living room couch, and you couldn’t shut your mind off if you tried.

Since the day you talked to him on the sidewalk not too long ago, you’ve wanted him. Bad. And he all but confirmed he wanted you, too, how were you supposed to sleep after that?

The next morning you were up before the sun began to seep into the guest room. If you could even call this a guest room. It was massive, much like how Lilith’s master bedroom is, and you found yourself not wanting to return back to your small apartment once she came back home. 

You dress yourself in jeans and a tank top before leaving the room, pinning back your messy hair as you poked your head into Joey’s room. He was awake and looking up at the stickers that were stuck to the ceiling, his fingers playing with the hem of his sheets. Then he was looking over at you and smiling. “Hi, buddy,” you greet him as you enter his room. 

“Y/n,” he said back and you grinned at the fact that he was already getting better at pronouncing your name. “Where is my dad?”

His dad. Your boss. The very man you kissed last night.

You picked him up when he lifted his arms. “I think he’s still sleeping,” you answer, holding him against your side as you walk over to his dresser. “Want me to help you get ready for school?” 

He nodded and you were able to grab his shirt and pants with one hand before setting him down onto the carpet and helping him get dressed. After that you take him downstairs and sit him at the table before heading into the kitchen and looking for something for him to eat. 

When you spot the strawberries and cream, you look over at the toddler and give him a smile. “Joey, do you want some strawberries?” You asked and watched as he lit up and nodded a few times. 

You slice them up into smaller pieces and place them into a bowl before adding the cream and setting it down in front of him. Joey’s blue eyes widen before he takes the spoon from you and goes to town on the bowl.

Laughing, you make two more bowls of it, keeping an eye on Joey from your place in the kitchen. Your back was pressed against the counter as Clay walked in, and the small smirk he wore once he saw you left you feeling reassured that last night was definitely not a mistake. 

He wasn’t dressed yet, his body being covered by a sinful pair of grey sweats and a white tee. It felt so casual, so normal, to get to see him during the early hours of the morning before he changed into more presentable clothing and completely woke up.

You stay still and watch as he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Joey’s head before he is making his way over to you. Keeping the bowl pressed to your chest, you pause your chewing when he stands a few inches away from you, his hands at his sides and a teasing glint in his eyes. “Hi,”

“Hi,” he says back, leaning in and gently bumping your nose with his own, and the simple action had your heart beating loudly in your chest. It didn’t go further than that as he pulled away but stayed close to you. “You have a good sleep?”

“Oh, the best,” you answer, swallowing after as you turn and grab the other bowl. “I made you breakfast.”

Clay looks down at the bowl before taking it from you with a boyish grin on his lips. “You made me breakfast?”

Nodding, you watch as he takes a strawberry between his teeth before promptly looking away as you feel heat rush to your face. 

God, he is hot. 

What are you doing? You should not be this turned on when you’re supposed to be getting his kid ready for school. 

Setting your bowl down, you avoid eye contact with Clay as you move around him, still feeling his gaze on you by the time you’ve made your way to Joey. “Do you need me to take Joey to school?” 

Clay leans against the counter as he eats, the open concept of both the kitchen and dining room giving him the perfect view of you and his kid. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you answer, smoothing out Joey’s hair.

“Great, you can ride with Rick,” he says as he places the bowl in the sink. 

You furrow your brows, taking the spoon and bowl from Joey when he handed them to you. “How will you get to work?” You asked as you made your way back into the kitchen. 

“Would it sound too privileged to say that I have more than one driver?” He asked with a grin as he stayed still, making you have to reach around him to place the bowl in the sink.

“Yes,” you say as you stand up straight. “Extremely privileged.”

Clay laughed under his breath, crossing his arms. “I’ll take a cab,” he answered your question from before, and his words were surprising. 

“You’re gonna take a cab?” 

Clay, too, stood up straight. “Why is that so surprising to you?” He asked, smirking a bit afterwards. 

You glance back at Joey, who was distracted by the coloring book you placed on the table last night, as you step closer to Clay. “I don’t know,” you mumble, looking back at him. “I don’t know why I keep assuming you’re some stuck up rich guy who wouldn’t be caught dead in a car that isn’t one of his own. You’re different, Clay.”

His smirk turns into a soft grin as he drops his arms, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “Different how?”

Your face heats up a bit as you shrug, placing your hands flat on his chest. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you say, “You’re nice,” you pathetically answer, not being able to fight off the nervous smile that takes over your lips. 

“Nice?” He smirks again, bunching up your tank top in his hands. “That’s it?”

You shrug again, unsure of what the boundaries are at the moment. “You’re not stuck up, you’re polite, you walk me to the door every time I go to leave,”

“That’s the bare minimum,” he brushed off his own actions, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “You’re pretty.”

Blushing heavily, you break eye contact and look back at Joey. “I should get him to school,”

You go to pull away but he gently wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you back to him. “Did I overstep with that one?”

He looked so genuine and a bit worried, further proving that he is more than just a decent guy. He is sweet and kind and can become so lost inside his own head when he thinks he messed up. He’s perfect, and that scares you. “No,” you shake your head, lacing your fingers together in hopes to reassure him. “You just….you make me feel things. Good things, I promise.”

Clay’s thumb traced random shapes onto the back of your hand before he nodded, loosening his grip on you. “Okay,” he gave your hand a final squeeze before he pulled away completely and walked over to J oey. He hugged him quickly and kissed the top of his head, glancing over at you as he headed towards the door. “See you later, pretty girl.”

Your face flushed for the tenth time since you woke up and you had to take a second to compose yourself, listening to Clay’s footsteps fade up the stairs. You clear your throat, smiling over at the four year old who was oblivious to the flirting that had just taken place in the kitchen. 

-

“Morning, Mr. Beresford,” Clay was greeted as he entered the floor that held his office. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” he answered, smiling at the man before walking past him and down the hall. He passed multiple offices, the walls being made of glass and not providing much privacy. That was his mothers idea, not his, and he stands by the fact that he doesn’t care to see into his employees workspaces to ensure they’re not slacking off, but she did. 

When Clay made it to his own office, these walls not being see-through, he closed the door and tossed his bag onto his desk. He stands behind it, pulling at the tie around his neck that he still wasn’t able to tie on his own. Sam always tied it for him, but now that she was gone he had to do it himself, and he did a really bang up job of it today. It looked awful, and he knew he needed to learn how to properly tie one soon. 

He looked out the window and at the city of New York, a small smile tugging at his lips. His friend, Jack, would tell him that he owned half this city, as if he wasn’t aware of that fact. For some reason Jack liked to do Clay’s bragging for him, seeing as he wasn’t one to brag much to begin with. Well, he wasn’t much of a bragger before Joey was born, now Clay proudly shows off just how amazing his kid is. 

He even bragged about him to you during your first conversation. 

The memory of that made Clay laugh as he sat down behind the desk, throwing off his tie as he reached for his phone. 

Joey’s Sitter: Just got back from dropping Joey off at school. Props to Rick for getting us there on time. You should give him a raise. 

Clay laughed again, reaching over with his free hand to turn on his computer as he typed out a reply to you. 

I’ll think about it. What are you up to now? Any plans for the day?

He sets his phone down as he enters the password for his computer. Almost instantly he was met with countless emails, the topics ranging from meetings to updates on his placement on the transplant list. 

The whole thing stressed him out, much like how it did back when he was just eighteen years old and thrown into the CEO lifestyle, and he looked back at his phone, where a text from you calmed him down a bit.

Joey’s Sitter: Not a thing planned…I was actually going to ask if I could tidy up your mansion, I mean your house. I didn’t get to clean the dishes before taking Joey to school, so I’ll start there. 

You reminded him a bit of Jack, but instead of bragging about his possessions, you teased him about it. It was a nice change, and something you had been doing since the day he met you. 

Unsurprisingly, his mind went back to Sam and how he so blindly missed all the signs she gave that showed she was just after his money. She never brought her wallet with her whenever the two of them went out, and then proceeded to fill her arms with things that Clay would end up buying for her. She claimed she forgot to bring her money, and that she appreciated his generosity, and that was that. 

She also failed to remember that she is a mother and is required to pay child support payments since she was the one to walk out, but he hasn’t seen a single cent from her since she left. Not that he’d accept anything from her, anyway.

You were so different from her. Yeah, you are six years younger than her, but you are far more mature than she ever was. 

Clay hadn’t even called her in days as he was too preoccupied sorting his life out. It was about time he did that, and he was proud of himself for not leaving her yet another pointless voicemail in almost a week.

Please, feel free, but don’t feel obligated. 

He replied to you before clicking on the first email, which was just a request for a meeting with both him and his mom. 

Joey’s Sitter: Cleaning is like therapy to me, Clay. I’m happy to do it. I noticed you’re a bit behind on laundry. Permission to do that, too?

Clay felt a bit embarrassed about that one. His mom was usually the one who is on top of the laundry, and she’s only been gone a couple days and it was already starting to pile up. 

Go for it.

He sent that then realized he will have to pay you for it. 

Oh, God, he’s supposed to be paying you right now since you’re looking after his kid. 

Fuck.

How is he supposed to pay you after kissing you last night and flirting with you this morning? You’d probably feel so cheap and used if he were to hand you the money you rightfully earned for babysitting Joey and getting him ready for school, but he couldn’t not pay you, either. He is your only source of income, as far as he knew, and he was quickly reminded of all the warnings he gave himself about pursuing something with you.

He knew he should’ve kept things professional, but he really didn’t want to. He’s held off on giving himself to someone in the way he did with Sam for too long, he was ready to get back to the dating scene. But with his son’s babysitter? That was a complicated one. 

Joey’s Sitter: I’m gonna have to go into your room to put your laundry away, is that okay?

That’s alright, just ignore the mess. Please. I’m working on it.

He typed out and sent his reply to you without thinking much of it, his overworked brain feeling like it had been sent into overdrive already. Clay had stressed himself out by thinking about you and what you and he currently are and how he should end things before they got too far, but as he looked down and read your text,

Joey’s Sitter: I won’t tell anyone that you’re just like any other twenty something year old guy who has questionable cleaning habits. Maybe. 

he suddenly didn’t care much about the quiet voice that was telling him to stop pursuing whatever it was that is between him and you. 

-

You balance the basket in your left hand as you use your right one to open Clay’s bedroom door. You knew you would feel like you were intruding had you not asked him beforehand, and his concerns about his supposedly messy room had you curious to see if it was as bad as he says it is.

It really wasn’t. 

The door swings open and the only thing that caught your attention was the fact that his bed wasn’t made. Sure, there were a few pieces of clothes strewn around the room and the drawers of his dresser were half open, but it was nowhere near as bad as you thought it’d be. 

You also found his boyish messiness attractive, and you were convinced that you would soon find everything about Clay attractive. And you weren’t even gonna mention the fact that his room smelled exactly like his cologne and how you felt a bit lightheaded as you took a step forward. 

Setting the basket on the bed, you walk over to the dresser and pull open the first drawer. Soon enough the basket was empty and as you picked it back up, you debated on whether or not you would be overstepping if you were to make his bed. 

You kissed last night and almost did again a few hours ago, so you were sure you were past that point, and you also didn’t want to keep texting him while he was at work just to ask. 

So, you put all the clothing that was around the room in the basket and quickly made his bed. On your way to the door, you pass his desk and see a picture of him and Joey in what looked like a hospital room. Joey couldn’t have been older than a few days, and Clay looked a bit younger than he did now. He was holding Joey close to his chest, his hand looking even bigger as it caressed the back of his son’s head. 

The framed picture had your heart swelling, as did the small grin Clay wore. 

How did you get this lucky to have them both in your life? Sure, it wasn’t anything long-term right now, but it didn’t matter. Joey had already stolen your heart, and Clay wasn’t very far behind. 

You look away and head towards the door, closing it quietly behind you despite you being the only person in the house. You kind of wanted to explore his room a bit more, but held off and hoped that he could give you a proper tour of it one day.

After setting the laundry basket down on top of the washing machine, you leave the room and make your way towards the guest room. The view from the window was amazing, and even better at night. You were too giddy to pay much attention to it last night, after kissing the guy you’ve been crushing hard on since the day you met him. 

You sit down on the queen sized bed, the soft, dark teal comforter inviting you to lay back. You do, your head settling against the pillow as you look off to the right and at the tall buildings that make up New York. 

You were pining over Clay, hard, and you got the smallest indication that he was feeling the same last night. But you have no idea if he is serious about you. Maybe he just thinks you’re an easy lay. God, that would probably crush you if he thinks that. 

Even though you were nearing the young age of twenty one, you quickly found yourself loving the domestic lifestyle most people don’t get to experience until their late twenties or early thirties. 

Really, you shouldn’t want to become a mother at your age, not when you haven’t even figured out what you want to do with your life, but getting the chance to see both Joey and Clay every single day felt like a dream. You wanted it, you wanted Clay to be serious about you, and you wanted Joey to feel safe and comfortable around you all the time. 

Had you told yourself back when you first moved to New York that you would be wishing you were part of this small family, you would’ve laughed. You didn’t even have a good relationship with your own family, hence why you’re living by yourself in a massive city, so you didn’t have much experience with a normal-functioning family like the Beresfords. 

Well, maybe they weren’t normal; they have loads of money, high paying jobs, and you were sure they owned multiple buildings and properties in the area. Still, Clay treated you like just another person. He wasn’t the typical stuck up rich guy who looks down on others just because he is wealthy, and that alone had you falling for him on the first day you met him.

Would he ever see you in that way? Could he? 

You turn over and hold a spare pillow to your chest, wondering what was going to come from this as you waited for the hours to pass until you had to go get Joey. 

You woke up to the sound of your phone going off a few hours later, and you smiled when you saw who had texted you. 

Clay Beresford: Won’t be home until later tonight. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time so if you need something, just call.

You sit up, tossing the pillow aside as you rub your eyes with your free hand, using your other to text him back.

No worries. Have a good night, Mr. Businessman. 

Sometimes you worried that you were being too forward with him, but he never seemed to mind it, which is why you keep doing it. It felt normal to tease each other back and forth over text, and now that you were progressing to teasing each other in real life, it only added fuel to the fire building within you. 

You got up from the bed after realizing that it was nearing three in the afternoon and you had to leave to pick up Joey. Well, Rick is picking up Joey, you’re just there for the ride until you return back to Clay’s home. 

When you do arrive back home, you give Joey a piggyback ride up the stairs and sit down on the couch with him. He crawls onto your lap as you set his schoolbag down and rummage through the new sheets that were in it. 

You pull out a piece of paper that had today’s date written on it and your eyes widen a bit at the scene on it. In the middle of the page was a small figure that had ‘ME’ written above it in messy writing, and to the left of that figure was a bigger one, this one being labeled ‘DADDY’. It was obviously a drawing of Clay and Joey that he had done today at school, but what was a bit surprising was the third figure.

On Joey’s right side was another person with your hair color and something that resembled the outfit you wore yesterday, which was a simple black tee and jeans. Above it was the word ‘SITTER’. You bite down harshly on your lip before asking, “Joey, did you draw this today?”

You knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it anyway. “Yeah,” he confirmed what you already knew. “It’s me, daddy and you. See.” He pointed to each figure and you realized that both you and Clay are holding Joey’s hands. 

Your eyes burned a bit as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “You’re sweet,” you tell him what you’ve been calling him since the first day you babysat him. “You’re so sweet, buddy. I love it.” You take the drawing from him and further inspect it. He even got your eye color right, and that had you blinking quickly as you set him aside on the cushion before standing up. 

Joey looked up at you, his big blue eyes a copy of his dad’s. “I’m hungry,”

You laugh, ruffling his hair a bit. “Okay, we can have an early dinner tonight. Daddy won’t be home until later,” you say as you begin to walk towards the doorway. Once you are in the kitchen, you immediately put the drawing on the fridge after looking at it for a good two minutes. 

Joey wasn’t aware of just how fucking cute he is, you’re sure of it. And seeing yourself, although in a drawing, with the two of them had your mind mixed up in a frenzy. 

You wanted this everyday, you wanted both of them. 

And, when Clay returns home later, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep your hands off him. 

-

Clay shuts the door behind him before practically bolting up the stairs, his bag slipping from his shoulder and landing on the floor once he reached the top. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he missed Joey a lot today, and he also found himself missing you. He had gotten a taste of you last night and now he is beginning to think he will never get enough. 

He also wanted to talk to you about it and get an idea of where you’re at and what you’re thinking about in relation to what you and he did last night, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. 

Bringing his left hand up, Clay reads the time on his watch and sees that it’s nearing Joey’s bedtime. As if on cue, you walk out of the living room with a half asleep Joey in your arms and an unreadable expression on your face. “Hey,” he says, his mood lifting considerably at the sight of the two of you. 

“Hi,” you say back, pausing in the doorway. “We were just heading to bed. Did you want to take it from here?”

Joey lifted his head from your shoulder and smiled at Clay, and his heart melted at the sight. “Okay,” he agreed and took his son from you, stopping just in front of the second staircase. “I’ll meet you in the living room?”

You just nod and enter the room again, leaving Clay to hurry up the stairs. After tucking Joey in, he gives him a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind him. 

He takes the stairs two at a time on the way down and shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in just his white button up and dress pants. He never bothered putting his tie back on after taking it off as soon as he got to his office. 

Once he entered the living room and saw you waiting patiently for him on the couch, Clay made it over to you in three strides. He sat next to you, his hands aching to reach out and touch you in any way you’d allow as he stared at your pretty eyes. “We should talk about-” but he wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and placed your hands on his shoulders, your mouths meeting in a firm kiss. 

And just like that, any and all thoughts left Clay’s head as his hands reached up and caressed either side of your face. His lips meshed against yours like they did last night, but with a lot more urgency. 

Your hands were a bit frantic as they gripped his shirt before pushing against his chest. Clay moved to lie back on the couch as you climbed on top of him, your fingers tangling in his hair once you were straddling his waist. “Is this okay?” You asked breathlessly, your eyes revealing your genuine concern, and he knew you were asking if his heart could take this much excitement at once. 

You were far too nice and your carefulness was something that was lacking in his last relationship. He never felt this cared for before from someone other than his mother, and he was kissing you again before he knew it. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he answered when he felt that you weren’t kissing him back, and when you smiled at his words, you gently traced your thumb along his jaw before kissing him again. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you say in between kisses, but show no signs of stopping. And he really didn’t want you to. 

His hands grip your waist tightly and pull your body right against his own. “We shouldn’t,” he agreed and you pulled away with a big grin on your face that he was sure matched his own. 

You blush a bit and he notes that he’s quite good at getting you to do that without really trying to. “I’m really glad we agree on that,” you mumble before giving him a final chaste kiss. His hands slide down your jean covered thighs as you sit up and bunch up his shirt in your fingers. “Can we have another movie night?” 

Clay nods instantly, and he was sure he would say yes to anything you asked him right now. He felt like he was on cloud nine, with the prettiest woman he had ever seen sitting on top of him like he was your throne. You had kissed him again. You wanted this as much as he did. 

You smile at him before getting up and walking towards his DVD collection. “What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care,” and he really didn’t. He wasn’t paying much attention to the movie you put in the DVD player as he opened his arms and gestured for you to lay with him.

You do so with a blush coating your face, pressing your back to his chest as you settle against him. Clay wraps his arms around you and laces your fingers together as he tries to calm his racing heart. 

He couldn’t believe you had this much of an affect on him, but here you are, tucked protectively in his arms as you stared up at the screen. 

Clay couldn’t remember the last time he felt this content, this carefree. All the stress he had felt throughout the day and all the questions he had planned on asking you were dissolving by the second, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep. 

It was clear that you did, too, because the next time Clay opened his eyes, he was staring at the menu screen of the movie before his gaze drifted further to the right, where he meets the cold stare of his mother, who did not look pleased to see you and him wrapped up in each other’s arms at all.

[mitsuyeaah]

SHAMELESS

RINDOU HAITANI x f! reader

“there’s just inches in between us, i want you to give in. there is tension in between us, i just wanna give in.”

cw: college au, mutual pining, slight angst (?), sexual tension, nsfw (minors dni), slight smut, dumb rindou, ran & sanzu cameo!! only proofread like once

word count: 7.5k

a/n: very first fic here on tumblr, inspired by shameless by camila cabello. a bit nervous to post this buut hope you guys enjoy!! i appreciate feedback! © divider: bushiroad

The sound of squeaking wheels filled your ears as you pushed the library book cart down the aisle, along with the occasional sound of turning of pages, the soft click clack of keyboards, and the quiet murmurs of students in a study session. It was half-past four in the afternoon which meant only 30 more minutes until your shift ended, but that didn’t really matter at the moment as your manager said you could go home early if all the returned books were taken back to their designated shelves.

You looked down at the black book cart, which now housed only one book that belonged to the music collection of the library; ‘Principles of Audio Production’ it read, in bold white letters. A small smile unknowingly formed on your lips as you made your way to the other end of the library, passing students either seated at study desks, and doing their own thing or students just simply looking for a book.

As you get to the music department, you immediately know which aisle the book belongs to, after all, you knew this department like the back of your hand. After it was neatly placed in its designated shelf and the book cart stored away in the storage room at the back, you headed for the small office on the ground floor to grab your belongings, and end your shift for the week.

You were only working part-time at your university library to at least ease the bills your parents had to pay, so you only came in during Wednesdays and Fridays as those were the days your schedule wasn't packed.

You bid goodbye to one of your co-workers who was manning the front desk, a beige knapsack secured against your back as you made your way out of the building. Walking past the glass sliding doors, you were met with a sudden cold gust of wind, your hair flying everywhere but away from your face. Mentally cursing the wind, you tried to tame your hair to see what’s ahead of you but it’s as if mother nature was playing tricks on you and decided that one more harsh blow of the wind was needed.

With the wind finally calming down after its small ‘tantrum’, you were finally able to see your surroundings, unobstructed and clearly. You caught a familiar figure on your left, leaning against the building with both hands tucked securely in the pants of his pockets, amethyst eyes already on you.

Rindou.

He was sporting a black hoodie and blue dark washed denim pants, his purple hair also swaying with the wind, effortless yet breathtaking. Rindou pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps before he was facing you, right arm extended out with his black sleeves slightly pushed back to reveal a singular black hair tie circling his wrist, “Here.” Rindou nudged his arm closer to you, indicating to take the hair tie. 

You briefly met his eyes to give him a small smile and mutter a “Thanks.” before removing the hair tie off his wrist, making contact with the dark ink that decorated his outer arm.

You never really saw his full tattoo apart from the one on his right arm when he would occasionally wear short-sleeved shirts on warmer weathers, but you did know that it continued to the right side of his chest and down to his right ankle. It was only because you hung out with him once after his gym session where he was sporting shorts and a black muscle tee that exposed maybe a little too much for your sanity, you weren’t complaining though.

“Don’t mention it. You looked like you were fighting for your life back there.” Rindou chuckled as he stuffed his right hand back into his pocket, watching you tie your hair in a ponytail. It's not the first time he’s given you a hair tie on an extremely windy day, but there’s just something different nowadays. Something you felt deep in your chest that you can’t quite pinpoint or clearly describe what exactly it is.

No, you can describe what it is, but you refused to acknowledge it because of this lingering question in your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and began walking, “No shit. I hate windy days so much.” you grumbled while shaking your head at the afternoon weather; gray clouds loomed over the city, accompanied by the harsh autumn winds.

It was routine for Rindou to wait for you until your shift finished, sometimes he would be hanging out in the music department of the library, absorbing various contents related to his studies while he waited. Other days he would be waiting outside the building like he did today, always unpredictable but that’s what you loved about him.

You never forced Rindou to wait for you after your shifts, he just turned up one day and decided that he was going to continue doing it just because. 

Rindou didn’t hesitate to match your pace as you two walked back toward the dormitories, “How was work? Busy?” he angled his face towards you, a small shiver running down his spine as another gust of wind blew. Maybe he should’ve worn something warmer than just a black hoodie.

You shook your head, staring ahead of you, “Nah, it wasn’t too busy in the library since it is a Friday. I think students would rather enjoy the start of the weekend than spend their afternoon holed up in the library.” Rindou didn’t really focus on your reply to his question, instead, he focused on the way your brows slightly furrowed because of the cold, the way your hair danced as the wind carried it, the way your eyes held light in them despite the gloomy weather, the way your lips moved with every word—

“Rindou?” He was brought back from his trance after you called out his name several times, “W-what?” his gaze immediately shifted from your lips to your eyes. You slightly shook your head to make a face, “I said, how come you have so many spare hair ties? Do you buy them just for me?” you teased him, wriggling your brows in a suggestive manner.

Rindou looked away too fast for his liking but replied with, “Shut up, I only bring some because I use them too. They’re not specifically for you.” He was met with laughter which made him return his gaze back to you, you were still looking at him but this time a teasing smile now dawned upon your face, brows furrowed but not because of the wind but because of confusion.

“You tie your mullet? I literally have never seen you do that.” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes, he ignored your question by changing the topic, “Oh that’s right, Ran wanted to meet up with you later for that assignment you guys were working on?”

Now it was your turn to scoff, you had totally forgotten about the assignment due at midnight. Now here you are, sulking about having to cancel tonight’s plan of binge watching movies because of a stupid assignment. The assignment wasn’t really that important as it was from one of your general education courses, but it would be nice to see good grades on your transcript. Plus, Ran was a slight perfectionist underneath his playful personality.

Although Ran was a year older than you and was doing a completely different degree, you two became friends because of the shared general education course you both took, a course not offered by both your respective faculties.

Ran was a business major and in his last year of studies but that didn’t stop you two from creating an unforgettable friendship. “Fuck, I totally forgot about that! Is he back at the dorms? I might just go to him now so we can finalize the assignment.” Rindou nodded, and you both headed for their shared dorm.

—

“I honestly don’t even know why I took this shit! Rindou, you said this was going to be easy.” Ran loudly complained, his brows furrowed and lips downturned as he ran his fingers through his short purple hair. You and Ran were sitting across one another at their dining table, laptops in front of you with a shared google doc pulled up.

The general education course you and Ran had taken was an Arts paper which taught the history of music, so now you and Ran were stuck writing about music. You honestly didn’t even know why you chose this course in the first place. Rindou chuckled as he brought over two cups of coffee from the kitchen, setting one beside your laptop and taking a sip out of the other. “Where’s mine?” Ran questioned, his frown deepening as he anticipated his hot drink, his eyes following his younger brother as he took a seat beside you.

“You have hands, make your own.” Rindou mumbled, eyes were glued to your laptop screen, he scooted his chair closer so he could get a better look at what you and Ran were working on.

As Rindou leaned closer, his cologne engulfed your nostrils, the scent you’ve grown to love over the past few months; it was sweet but mixed with an earthy aroma. It took all your willpower not to slightly lean away from the man, you weren’t uncomfortable with the closeness but he does unexplainable things to you every single time he comes close. You nervously bit your lip as you could now feel the heat his body radiated.

Ran narrowed his eyes at Rindou–who was still getting closer to you–and shifted his eyes to you, frozen on the wooden seat and eyes abnormally glued to the laptop, he mentally laughed at the scene unfolding in front of him before speaking up again.

“Okay, last time I checked, it was our study session. You’re not even a part of this.” He rested his chin on the palm of his right hand while his left hand scrolled up and down the shared document. Rindou replied, still not looking at his brother “And last time I checked, you needed my help. Plus, this is basically related to what I’m studying so I’m staying here.”

Rindou majored in Music Business which was the study of songwriting, entrepreneurial practices, and revenue flow. He was in second year just like you and you only knew him because of his older brother, and have met him countless of times during your study sessions back at their dorm.

Unlike with Ran, It took quite a while to build a friendship with Rindou as he was more introverted and closed off, but it was worth it since he’s been nothing but a wonderful friend to you. Sometimes you question if he sees you more than one due to the countless times he’s acted towards you.

A smirk made its way across Ran’s face, Rindou could see it from his peripheral vision, a smile too wide for the younger’s liking but he decided to ignore it, “Are you sure it’s not because of…” Ran trailed off as Rindou finally looked up at his older brother with a glare, their eyes briefly meeting before Ran shifted his gaze over to you–who was still looking at the shared document–and back to Rindou, lifting a brow. Little shit, Rindou thought.

If looks could kill, Ran would be dead right now. Rindou was practically sending daggers across the table and toward his older brother, although this only entertained Ran even more as he bursted out laughing while throwing his head back. His behaviour snapped you out of your thoughts, your confused gaze shifting between the two siblings, the one beside you was scowling while the other across from you was still laughing. Typical Haitani siblings behaviour.

—

After a chaotic but productive study session, you were supposed to be on your way back to your own dorm but instead, you were walking to the convenience store under a small shared umbrella with Rindou while the rain poured non-stop.

It was quarter to seven in the evening and you were craving for something sweet, the sky was much darker than it was before and the gusts of wind now colder than the afternoon ones. “I could’ve managed on my own..” you mumbled against the brown scarf wrapped around your neck that Rindou had pulled from his closet, it smelled like him, so everytime you inhaled, his scent engulfed your nostrils.

“There’s no way in hell I would leave you alone, especially with the weather this bad. ‘Sides, it’s already dark out— goodness, come here! You’re getting your clothes wet.” Rindou wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, your right arm flushed against his side.

You thought that once he was done pulling you closer to him, he’d remove his arm from your waist but he didn’t. He firmly kept his arm around you for the whole trip to the convenience store, like it was meant to be there and you swear you could feel his burning touch through your thick clothes, it was so warm, he was so warm; such a nice contrast from the cold autumn night.

It was always like this with Rindou ever since you met him. He would always behave in such a way that would make you question your status with him, was this really you two being just friends? There were days where he wouldn’t test the boundary of your friendship, but there were also some days that he would, and boy did he test it to the max.

Those days were the days where he would be needier than usual and ask for things that friends definitely didn't do.

“I’m so tired, ‘s okay if I rest on you for a bit?” He asked you one time but he didn’t wait for your answer and also didn’t hesitate to lean his head against your left shoulder. 

You two were both at the library at that time, you were watching the lecture you missed out on while he… was just chilling. You two stayed that way until you literally had to tell Rindou that your shoulder was becoming tired, and he needed to wake up; it led to him apologizing and massaging the shoulder he leaned on, it felt nice. Really nice, too nice. Nice enough that you just had to let out a breathy sigh because of how good it felt, “Fuck, that actually feels so good.” you slightly tilted your head to the right to give him more access.

Rindou swallowed at your behaviour and uncomfortably shifted in his seat, Fuck, he thought, something deep inside stirring like a storm waiting to rage. “Yeah?” was all he could muster, he couldn’t think properly, not when you looked so pretty and responsive to his touches.

Another time was when he asked you if he could hold your hand because he felt down–whatever that meant–and you did let him, for some odd reason. Sometimes there would also be his stares that lingered around your face for too long, specifically your lips; he wouldn’t even try to hide it at some point, a weird glint in his eyes as he stared at your soft lips.

You would ask him ‘what?’ and he would just shrug and say ‘so pretty’. Sometimes there would just be comfortable silence between the two of you while you both sat inside his car, just basking in silence when he would ask if you wanted to come with him during his night drives.

And ever since those days, the boundary between friendship and lovers was becoming more and more blurry and you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to do with the question that has been lingering in your mind ever since the day he tested the boundaries.

The warmth that his body radiated comforted you so much, it made you forget about everything else. The people around you, the cars driving past, the loud pattering of the rain against the umbrella, and the coldness of the night. God, you wanted to be this close to him for the rest of your life. Or maybe even closer–

Wait what? What the fuck am I thinking? You thought to yourself.

You shook your head slightly as if it would dissipate the storm of thoughts clouding your mind, Rindou noticed your movement and looked down at you, “You okay?” a glint of concern dawning upon his pretty amethyst eyes, oh to get lost in them forever. “Hm? Yeah… just a bit cold ‘s all.” you replied, which made Rindou tighten his grip around you. “We're almost there.”

Rindou shook off the excess water from the umbrella and shoved it inside a small metal basket provided by the convenience store while you both entered. “I’m going to have a look around too, maybe ask Ran if he wants anything.” you nodded at him before going your separate ways inside the store.

After grabbing several sweets–that you’re probably going to devour all by tonight–you decided it was also a good idea to stock up on some food and necessities for your dorm. Rindou appeared out of nowhere and took your basket, placing a few things he got for him and his older brother, “You almost done?”

You nodded before placing a box of hair dye inside the plastic basket that Rindou now held in his hand. He squinted at the packaging which read ‘pink’, were you about to dye your hair pink? He didn’t question your intentions but it did make him a tad bit curious.

“I’ll pay for this.” and with that, he wordlessly turned around and started walking to the counter before you could protest. “Rindou, I know you’re as broke as I am. Let me just pay for my things!” you walked faster to catch up to him, but the clerk already began to scan and bag the items.

“We’ll split the payment!” you told the clerk, and stood beside Rindou, a hand encasing around his wrist in case he tried to pay for all the things himself. Your touch made Rindou flustered more than it should have, it was nothing but a simple touch, so why was he acting like a teenage boy? God, he’s so fucking embarrassing.

After finally getting around to splitting the bill, you and Rindou thanked the clerk as he handed you two bags and headed for the exit, not forgetting to take the wet umbrella from the basket at the entrance. “Holy shit, it’s gotten worse.” Rindou looked up at the pitch black sky, one hand holding the bags and the other holding the opened umbrella.

The rain was now pouring harder which made it hard to clearly see the surroundings, it also didn’t help that it was now darker out. “I told you I could manage on my own. Your dorm is farther from here than mine.” you sighed as you inched closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his body.

Before he could respond, you opened your mouth again, “You know what? I can’t let you go back with the weather like this. You can stop by my place first and wait it out, it’s only… quarter-past seven. I live alone, so it's okay.” you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jacket after checking the time. Rindou absent-mindedly nodded, “Mhm, yeah, you’re right— wait what?” he quickly turned his head to you but you were already pulling him toward the direction of your dormitories.

Holy fuck. Rindou thought to himself.

He’s never been inside your dorm. Yeah, he’s been in the building a couple of times to drop you off or pick you up but he has never been physically inside your room, it was always you coming over to the shared dorm with his older brother or just simply hanging out somewhere around the campus for study sessions and whatnots. Rindou would be lying to himself if he said his mind wasn’t playing hundreds of scenarios of what would happen once you two get inside your dorm, he wants to curse himself for thinking that way but he just can’t help it, not when you literally drive him crazy.

Rindou didn’t notice that the both of you had already arrived in the building and was now standing in front of your door, you swiped your ID card on the reader and it made a little noise before you opened the door. He took in your room, it wasn’t decorated as much and looked like your typical university dorm but it was cozy, it was definitely smaller than his and Ran’s but it made sense as this was only built to accommodate one person.

“Did you… want anything? Water? Something to eat?” you asked Rindou as you made your way to your kitchen to set the bags down on the counter after taking your shoes and scarf off, before he could respond, a knock caught both of your attention. Were you having someone else over tonight? Rindou thought. A slight pang of jealousy made its way to his chest.

You walked past him and opened the door, Rindou took a few steps closer as well, curious to see who would be knocking at your door at this time; a pink haired man came into view as you swung the door open. Who the fuck dyes their hair pink? Rindou thought to himself, but he couldn’t really say much, not with the purple hair he had.

“Oh, hey! Did you manage to get that thing I asked about? So sorry for making you run an errand for me— Oh… am I interrupting something?��� the stranger’s turquoise eyes darted between you and Rindou, slight embarrassment dawning upon his pretty face.

“Shit, thanks for reminding me, and yes, I did manage to buy. Also, Rindou, this is Haruchiyo, he lives next door. Haru, this is Rindou, a friend of mine. I’ll be right back, I’ll grab it real quick.” you quickly introduced both men to one another before leaving them two alone to grab the item Haru asked you to buy. Rindou awkwardly cleared his throat, his hand coming up to scratch his nape, “So uh… what’s your major?”.

Haruchiyo, who was mindlessly fidgeting with his hands, looked up at Rindou “Hm? Oh, Chemistry. The same as her.” he answered, pointing a finger in your general direction. Rindou slowly nodded, letting out a small ‘oh’ at the information, if he was being honest, Rindou could care less about this man in front of him but you were taking too long to find the damn item Haruchiyo asked you to buy, so he had to act like he was interested in the stranger in front of him.

Before Rindou could open his mouth for another question–in which he wouldn’t be interested in the answer–to the pink haired man in front of him, you finally came back with the item Haru had asked you to buy. It was the hair dye he saw you place into the basket earlier, pink hair dye.

Oh, so that’s what the hair dye was for…, Rindou thought. Haruchiyo smiled and eagerly grabbed the small box as you handed it over to him, “A life saver, Thanks! I’ll get going now and transfer you the money… Nice meeting you, Rindou.” Rindou gave him a nod of acknowledgement before Haruchiyo left.

Rindou couldn’t pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like Haruchiyo, not one bit. Maybe it was the way his turquoise eyes lit up when you came back into the view, or maybe it was because you two were practically living next door, or maybe it was basically a given that you and Haruchiyo see each other almost every day as you’re both doing the same major— 

What the actual fuck, Rindou. Get your shit together. He mentally cursed himself.

“How long have you known him for?” Rindou asked as he followed you further into your dorm, he pulled a wooden chair out from the dining table which scraped the wooden floor a little too loud, Rindou winced at the sound before sitting on the chair. “Hm? I’ve known Haru since first year…” you explained your friendship with Haruchiyo to him while sorting the things you bought, but he didn’t really listen because the only thing in his mind was the nickname you gave the pink haired man.

Haru.

Why didn’t he get a nickname? He wanted a nickname.

Before Rindou could finally reply, you were already giving him a confused look, “You okay? Been spacing out a lot… also, did you want to watch a movie to pass time?” you walked over to your small living room and sat on the two-seater couch, the black leather creaking under your weight. Rindou stood up from his seat and awkwardly padded over to where you were, “Yeah, I’m fine.” he sat next to you, shoulders brushing against one another.

“What movie did you want to wat—” “Some girl in my class asked me out today.” he cut you off, it was true, a classmate had asked him out after one of his classes today and he has yet to give an answer. Rindou didn’t know why he brought it up, he just felt like he had to but he didn’t know for exactly what reason. His sudden confession caught you off guard. You met his stare, amethyst eyes unwavering, there it was again, that weird glint in his eyes.

You don’t know how long you two looked into each other's eyes, one, two, three or more seconds? Until you finally spoke up, uncertainty in your tone, “Congrats?... what did you say?” you shifted your gaze to your fingers, picking on your nails. To be very honest, you weren’t happy for him. Not one bit.

You were jealous, you wished you had the courage that girl did but you didn’t, and now someone else is out there trying to claim him. Your Rindou. But then again, you didn’t know where your status stood with him, he never clarified what you two were because after the days that he tested the boundaries, he would act indifferent, like he didn’t just hold your hand the other day, like he didn’t almost kiss you. For fucks sakes, you were confused as hell.

You didn’t know what to make of the information but it had you wanting to hear his answer more than anything. Had he said yes? What if he did and they’d already gone on a date before he came by the library today? My goodness you were so fucking pathetic for hiding your feelings for Rindou. You wanted to pull your hair out because the possibility of Rindou saying yes is high—

“I haven’t given her an answer… but I know I’ll most likely say no.” Oh my god you knew it. You fucking knew he’d say yes to—

Wait what?

Oh.

Oh.

“Why not? I’m sure she’s nice—” “I want someone else.” you met his gaze again, this time you stared into each other's eyes much longer. It was so silent that you could hear your own racing heartbeat, the ticking of the clock on the wall, your breaths that's become shallow, you didn’t know how to respond. You could feel tingles all over your body as he looked at you like he wanted you, you swear your head was almost spinning with how close Rindou suddenly was.

Your senses were heightened. You could smell his sweet scent that drove you oh so crazy, you could feel the heat he radiated, but this time it was burning. It wasn’t just warm, no. It was hot, he was hot, literally. He burns for you. You didn’t miss the way his lavender eyes slowly traced your features one by one before finally settling on your plump lips. And you also didn’t miss the way Rindou took in a sharp breath as he stared at them, almost as if it pained him to not be kissing it at this very moment. Fuck, he was so tempted.

“Can I… kiss you?” he whispered as he once again met your gaze, and thickly swallowed. God, the only thing holding him back at this very moment was your permission, he wouldn’t know what to do if you said no.

With how gorgeous Rindou looked right now, you couldn’t trust your voice so you just slowly nodded your head. You swore Rindou muttered a faint ‘fuck’ under his breath before he wasted no time to close the gap between the two of you.

You were sweet. So fucking sweet. He was now fully facing you–his left shoulder touching the backrest of the sofa–your chin situated between his right thumb and index finger, tilting your head toward him as he devoured you. His kisses were hungry and rough, like there was some sort of history behind it all, like he’d been waiting his whole life to do just this.

But you couldn’t complain, never, you liked it a lot; your whole body was burning with lust, sparks flying as Rindou pressed further into you with desperation as if you were about to turn into dust any time and slip out of his very hands.

Rindou was out of his mind. Your lips were soft and pillowy against his, just how he liked it, and it drove him crazy. The way you let out soft moans against his lips, the way both your hands clung tightly onto his hoodie, like it was the only thing that’s keeping you grounded right now. So responsive. So vulnerable. He wanted to ruin you so bad.

You don’t know how but Rindou managed to slip you out of your jacket, only noticing that it was off as the cold air of your dorm engulfed your bare arms. You slowly pulled away from Rindou to catch your breath, slightly pushing him away as he was trying to catch your lips. He leaned his forehead against your, both your chests heaving, breaths mixing together as you two basked in warm silence. Rindou wasn’t done with you.

He gave your now swollen lips a peck before heading for your cheek, trailing light kisses down your jaw until he reached your neck. Rindou gave you soft experimental kisses where your shoulder met your neck, to which you responded with sweet whines and the call of his name. “Fuck… Rindou.” you breathed out as he licked a stripe up your neck and sucked on the same spot that made you whine for him.

Your hands flew up to his lavender hair as Rindou began trailing kisses down to your collar bones. “R-rindou wait! Hold on…” you slowly pushed him away as you felt his hands attempting to tug your shirt up, Rindou pulled away, concern clouding his lustful gaze as he questioned you, “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he panted out. You shook your head but he saw something different in your eyes, like there was something you wanted to say.

“Rindou?” “Hm?” “What are we?”

There. You said it, you said the question that’s been buried deep into the back of your mind ever since your established friendship with Rindou Haitani.

“I–I don't…? We’re friends, what do you mean?” his brows furrowed. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath, anger bubbling up from within, “Exactly, Rindou! We’re friends… and friends don’t do this, right?” you argued with desperation in your tone. Is he fucking dumb? Did he really just have the audacity to say ‘we’re friends’ after he marked your neck dark red and purple? After he just kissed you like a starved man? After almost slipping you out of your shirt? 

Rindou knew that. He knew that friends didn’t act the way you two did but he just wasn’t ready to face this conversation. Yes, he’s a coward, and a big one at that.

“Why did you even tell me that some girl in your class asked you out? What do you feel for me, Rindou?” you pressed further, wanting immediate answers from the man in front of you. He had an expression you couldn’t understand, like he looked troubled. Fighting a mental war within himself while he remained quiet.

Your heart sank as he just sat there avoiding eye contact, your once lustful gaze turning into nothing but mere anger and possibly hatred. “I think I should go…” he mumbled–more to himself than to you–quickly scrambling from the couch and towards your door. The fucking audacity, you thought. “Really, Rindou?! You’re just going to run away like a fucking coward? We’re both adults here for fucksakes! At least face this head-on!” you stood up, raising your voice at him, but Rindou never said anything nor turned back once. He just quietly put his shoes on and left without a word.

The slam of the door resonated throughout your dorm as you stood there all alone, your neck marked and heart broken in a million pieces by someone that was never yours from the very start. You felt dumb. How foolish of you to think he actually felt the same way, maybe he just stuck around because of lust. You felt so used and angry that tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes, your breathing erratic but this time it's from anger. You sat down on the couch and took deep breaths while closing your eyes, wishing it would all just go away once you open them back again.

Rindou was unpredictable but was this really what you loved about him?

—

You felt like shit. For the past few weeks, you were in a sour mood, nothing entertained nor interested you. You watched the hues of red and purple on your neck fade as days passed. Rindou stopped coming by the end of your shifts at the library, he never texted or called to apologize about that night, he didn’t wait for you outside your dormitory to walk you to class, he didn’t wait outside your class to hangout at the library.

It was like Rindou was never even there from the start. It wasn’t hard for him to avoid you as you were both in different faculties–him being in the Arts and you being in the Science Faculty–although you did wish that you would run into him somehow when you headed over to the School of Arts for the general education class you had with Ran.

Hangouts with Ran became less frequent as he was embarrassed about what his younger brother did to you, it was also limited to either the library or somewhere around the campus, as going back to his and Rindou’s shared dorm was no longer a viable option. But he acted indifferent toward you, despite the situation. Ran cherished his friendship with you and he was not going to let his younger brother taint it.

It was one of those nights where you binged watched movies up to the point where your eyes couldn’t handle it anymore. The clock on your laptop read ‘2:39 am’, your eyes were droopy and you couldn’t care less about the movie playing in front of you, the voices of the actors turning into a soft muffled sound as you fought to stay awake. You were on your bed, your laptop that was once resting on your stomach slowly sliding off and onto the sheets.

Loud desperate knocks on your door jolted you awake, your heart rate suddenly increasing from the unexpected loud sound at this hour of the morning. You swore that if it was Haru knocking at this ungodly hour, you were not only going to kill him, but also ignore his desperate pleas for help during your laboratory sessions. You let out a grunt as you threw your sheets off you and moved your laptop out of the way.

Your warm feet slowly padded against the cold wooden floor as you made your way over to your door. You weren’t too worried about it being an intruder as the building did require ID cards to present before entering it, therefore suggesting that whoever is knocking at your door is a student; with a sigh, you undid the locks and slowly opened the door, “I swear to god Haruchiyo, if you’re asking me to dye your hair this early again—” your sentence was cut short as the opened door did in fact not reveal your pink haired friend.

The man who stood before you was purple haired. Your heart skipped a beat.

The same man who has been avoiding you like the plague, and who disappeared without a single explanation. Rindou looked like shit. The bags under his eyes were prominent, his purple hair tousled and chest heaving. Did he run here? At 2 in the fucking morning? You thought.

You didn’t know how to feel about this, a part of you wanted to slam the door shut and go back to your warm sheets but the other part wanted to see where this went. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out, there was nothing in your mind at this very moment. All you knew is that your heart yearned for him but you couldn’t look him in the eye, not when he left you hanging like that.

“I’ve been thinking about you…” Rindou was the first one to break the silence, his amethyst eyes studying your features with concern. You looked tired, too, and empty. Your eyes didn’t hold that special glint in them like before.  “I don’t know what else to say to you.” you quietly responded, looking anywhere but his eyes; you knew if you made eye contact with them, you’d be sucked back in and forget about everything else, but you can’t be fooled anymore. Not for a second time.

Rindou let out a heavy sigh, “Please look at me..” his tone laced with pure desperation, it pained you to hear him like this, he sounded so broken and lost, like he didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. “Rindou, look, this clearly isn’t a good idea. I know you don’t feel the same way—”

“Please, can we just talk about this?” he cut you off, coming a step closer, to which you responded by defensively taking a step back. Rindou noticed this and refrained himself from coming any closer, like he might hurt you if he did. “Can I come in? Please, I just want to talk things out… that’s the least I can do for you.” he watched as you weighed out the pros and cons of letting Rindou inside, biting your lower lip as you decided.

With a sigh, you fully opened the door, stepping aside as you replied with, “I guess there’s no harm in that…” you finally met his eyes, his gaze softening like it was the only thing he needed to calm the storm behind his stare.

You both made your way to the couch, where all this mess started.

The black leather creaked under your weights as the both of you settled on it, both uncomfortably clinging to each end of the couch, not wanting to make awkward physical contact with one another.

Rindou cleared his throat and fully turned to you, “I’m sorry. It took me so long to realize my feeli— no, actually, I’ve known my feelings for you ever since but..” he trailed off, looking down at his hands. It shouldn’t have made you this happy to know that, but your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. He liked you back.

“...I don’t know what got into me that night. I guess I was just… scared?” Rindou sighed, burying his face in his palms. Maybe he should’ve just stayed home. No matter how much he can explain himself, there was just no justifying for what he did to you that night. He had no right to devour you like that and leave within the next minute because he got scared of your question.

It was your turn to face him, brows furrowed, anger and confusion slowly seeping into you, “Scared? Scared of what, Rindou?” you questioned, slightly raising your voice. You’ve had enough of his bullshit. “God, I don’t know, okay?!” Rindou removed his face from his palms and looked at you, tears welling up in his eyes.

He closed them for a bit to try and steady his breathing. “I just like you so much that I don’t even know what to do anymore. I just want to be with you, I want to be by your side as much as I can, and it hurts me that I made you cry..” Rindou avoided your gaze as he opened his eyes again. He was never the type to genuinely confess his feelings nor was the sappy type, so you knew this was very difficult for him to do, and you respected him for going out of his comfort zone.

Now it was your turn to ask him to look at you, it took you several attempts before he finally did so. A single tear ran down his cheek as he made eye contact with you, god, you wanted to hug him so bad. You forced a small smile, “You can have me, Rindou… I’ve been yours from the very start.” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his, to reassure him that you meant every single word you said.

Before he could reply, you started speaking again, “..I’m so tired of having somebody that’s not mine.”

“A-and I know you feel the same way as I do… but do you still want me?” you inched closer to him, your eyes holding his intense gaze, you weren’t about to back down from this. You needed to know his answer. “I want you so fucking bad that it physically hurts me. Call me shameless but that’s exactly how I feel.” Rindou replied, his voice dropping an octave while he held your gaze. Two can play at this game, he thought. Something in the air shifted, the mood was now completely different.

You let out a dry chuckle, “Show me how shameless you are, then. Why don’t you write it on my neck?”

Rindou swore under his breath, wasting no time pressing his lips against your own, he missed this so much. He missed the way the warmth of your lips ignited his whole body, he missed the way his chest tingled with delight, he missed the way you moaned against his lips even though he had barely touched you.

He pulled away and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and down to your neck, where you liked him the most. “Mhm… Rindou…” you moaned out his name, both hands flying to his hair, pushing him closer to your neck as he nibbled on the same spot he had previously marked, paying extra attention to it as it made you moan his name in a way that he isn’t going to forget any time soon. “Fuck, you’re so needy for me, huh?” Rindou swore, his voice raspy and low. It did things to you.

You let out a whine as he trailed even further down, sucking on your collarbones. His mouth felt so heavenly against your bare skin, but you needed more. You wanted to be closer to him. “R-rindou…” you whined, you don’t even know what you want from him but saying his name just felt right. “What do you want, princess? Use your words.” He gave your collarbone–that was now littered with hues of purple and red–one last peck before swiftly tugging your shirt off.

The cool early morning air hit your bare chest, you shuddered as Rindou sucked on a spot just above your nipple, his warm mouth being a complete contrast from the air. He gently pushed you further into the couch until your back was met with the cool leather, and Rindou was on top of you, in between your legs. “Oh fuck..” you threw your head back against the arm rest as he placed a nipple inside his mouth, alternating between sucking and licking, he gave your other breast attention using his hand, massaging it and rolling the bud between his fingers. Rindou panted heavily against your chest, “So pretty for me.”

He made his way back up and kissed you once again, grinding his clothed cock against you, he let out a whine as he rested his face on your neck. The friction felt so good, he didn’t know if he was even gonna last long. “Fuck, I want you so bad.” he groaned, teeth clenching from the unbearable pleasure he felt.

“I’m all yours, Rindou.”

With that, he showed you how badly he wanted you, over and over again. You saw parts of him that you haven’t seen before, the vulnerability, the intimacy, and the true feelings he held for you. And oh, you were finally able to see the entirety of his tattoo, from his arm, right down to his ankles and everything in between.

© mitsuyeaah

[heartfeltcierra]

Donquixote Doflamingo X Female Reader NSFW "Daydreams of Dressrosa"

Anon-I noticed you have a request box. I just wanted to say your writing is 🤌🏻 *chefs kiss*. I wanted to request something angsty and maybe even smutty with Doflamingo. I’ll let you decided if it end fluffy or not. I knows he is problematic and controversial as hell (I can fix him) But if you don’t write for him I completely understand! Thank you and have a amazing day my beloved heartfelt!

AN-So I totally took this and ran with it lmao. I just recently finished the Dressrosa Arc and I find Doflamingo to be a interesting character. This was a welcomed challenge for me. I've never written for a villian before and It's been a hot take since I've written smut. With that being said it's also the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I ran laps around my house just writing this. But thank you for reading my work and I hope you enjoy this my beloved anon :)

Masterlist

Side note- As always this story is plus sized reader friendly!

Word Count- 7.5k

*Any thing in italics is readers thoughts or a flashback. *

!Trigger warning! The relationship between Reader and Doflamingo is extremely toxic with emotionally abusive undertones, please never let anyone treat you like this.

~NSFW Warnings/Content~ Dom Doffy/Sub reader, PWP, Pre established situationship, A tiny speck of pet play, Doffy misuses his devil fruit powers (Spoiler alert he makes a clone.) Humiliation, Name calling (Slut, whore etc) , Reader is slapped once, Spanking, Degradation, Oral Sex (Fem giving and receiving) Fingering, Implied squirting and use of reward system. I tried to stay true to Doflamingo's character, but he may be OOC in some parts!

   From the moment you woke up to a quiet and peaceful palace, you immediately knew something was up. You asked one of the guards where everyone was and much to your surprise Doflamingo and the top executives have gone out to a meeting. And according to him,  they won’t be back until dark. It’s very rare for all of them to be gone at the same time, but you're thankful. It’s been a long time since you've had any alone time, so you were going to make every moment count. 

  You’re currently in the courtyard pool floating around on the huge blow up flamingo Doffy bought a while back. No one ever uses it considering most of the family have devil fruit abilities and aren’t willing to risk falling into the water. So you’ve laid claim to the giant pink float. You’ve even given it the nickname “Mini Master.” 

 “Now let’s get down to the real fun.” You smirk before pulling out a book from your favorite romance series called “Daydreams of Dressrosa: a collection of love stories from the kingdom of passion”. You read them in secrecy. The only other person who knows is Baby 5, her being the one who sneaks them to you. You knew if Doffy found out about them, he’d probably be pissed, saying something to the extent of “What can a book offer you that I can’t?” And the answer to that was simple. Romance and love. The two things he would never be able to offer you. It’s sad, but nonetheless true. 

 You open the book and turn to where you left off on story #17 titled “Carnivals and Carnations”. The couple in the story are going to a carnival as a first date. The story was super cheesy, but you're living for it. You squeal when the guy puts his jacket around the girl's shoulders because she is cold. It’s funny how something so simple causes your heart to swoon.  But your favorite part so far was him winning her a stuffed bear from one of the game stalls. You can’t help but think of Doffy doing something like that for you, no doubt you’d walk away with every stuffed animal and trinket you wanted. But how Doffy would win them is the part you find funny. He’d probably use his devil fruit ability to ‘Win’ (Cheat)  or he’d scare the person running the stall until they gave up everything. It brought a bittersweet smile to your face. The poor hopeless romantic in you still hasn’t accepted her fate. Once you got stringed in with Doflamingo, any chance of you experiencing sweet and innocent love was thrown to the wind. 

 You can’t help but be jealous of the girl in the story. When you were a teenager you dreamed about finding a man who would love you and treat you like a princess. Now here you are as an adult and plaything to a criminal. You knew he was bad, you knew he had done horrible things. But something about him lured you in. Tears trickle down your face and onto the pages below. You yearn for the impossible from him. But it’s Doffy, and he will do whatever he wants, when he wants and without even thinking about anyone else. You know this better than anyone. 

 ~Flashback~

 “Doffy, can I ask you a question?” You pulled your sore and sweaty body from the bed. Doflamingo was in the middle of putting his shirt back on,but stopped when he heard your hoarse voice call out.

 “Well would you look at that.” Doffy seemed to be amused, smirking at your trembling form. “My little girl didn’t pass out after all. I was almost certain you would, considering how hard I was on you.” You were on the brink of passing out from his rough treatment, but you clung to consciousness. “For that I’ll answer your question. Go on.” 

 “Well I guess it may be more of a favor, but.” Your mind and heart raced even more than it did earlier. All because of what you're about to ask him. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after? I know you're busy and I won’t take up much of your time, just a few minutes I promise!” You watched Doffy’s smirk disappear, replaced by one of  his more disapproving looks, causing your heart to drop.

 “You want me to shower with you and stick around for “cuddles”?” You muster the strength to  nod at the man. His lips curled into a wicked smile before he laughed in your face.  “What a joke. Do you think I have time for something so stupid? Never ask for something like that again. Got it?” You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down your face at his cruel words. His large hand reached out and grabbed your face, giving you no choice but to look at him. “Speak girl.”

 “Yes. I- I’m sorry Doffy.” Your cringe at how your words struggled to come out through the small sobs. Times like that reminded you how cruel Doflamingo was. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. 

 “Good.” He released your face and without another word, walked out of the room as if nothing happened. To him it probably was nothing. Your body fell against the bed as a few remaining tears slid down your face. Your hands snaked around one of the spare pillows on the bed, in search of the comfort you so desperately needed that night.

~Flashback end~

 It had been weeks since that night and not once has Doffy come to your room for a “session”. The more you think about it, the more uneasy you become. It’s unlike him to go that long without sex. Maybe he’s getting bored with you or maybe he’s getting it from someone else. Both of those thoughts stung. At the end of the day, you're just another woman at his disposal.

 You look into the sky and see the colors changing with the sunset. You didn’t have much time left before the family would return. A small sigh leaves your lips as you open your book again. Now where was I? The couple were now riding on a ferris wheel.  The man wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, causing her to scooch closer to him. The ferris wheel came to a halt, leaving them at the very top. They admired all the lights and the way the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Their eyes locked onto each other. You can’t help but giggle knowing what’s about to happen. The man gently cupped her cheek as he slowly moved his lips towards her. Her eyes closed as his lips barely ghosted over hers. A small tug on the float causes you to close your book. Before you had a chance to investigate the cause, the float was pulled out from under you. Your body tumbles into the cold water alongside your book.

 “Fufufu~.” You hear Doffy’s muffled laugh as you swim back up to the surface. You cough up a little water you inhaled as Doffy continued to laugh. Judging from the way his fingers were bent, he was the one who knocked the float over. “Did the mouse have fun while the cat was away?” Your eyes roll at his snarky comment. You want to splash water on the cocky warlord, but you also want to live long enough to finish your book. Wait, the book! You frantically swim around the pool until you notice it sitting at the bottom of the pool. You take a deep breath in before diving to get it. You emerge once again holding the soaked book.

 “Well the “mouse” was having a fine day, until you destroyed its book.” You hold the book up and watch as the pool water drips from the pages. “And I was getting to the good part too.” You mumble the last part. 

 “Good part?” A wild smirk forms on Doffy’s face. With a flick of his left index finger the book was snatched from your hands and right into his. “What page was this “good part on”?” You watch as he skims through the book. 

 “112.” You swim over the edge of the pool and watch him read the page. For a man like Doflamingo, the scene will be underwhelming and quite boring. For a moment you think he was getting interested in the words, but it was short lived.  With a wet smack he closes the book and tosses it to the ground. You frown knowing the book will be unreadable by time the water sets in and blurs the words. I guess I’ll never know how it ends….

 “So that’s your definition of a good part?” You gave the man who was now towering over you a small nod. “When did my little slut become so vanilla?” Heat rises to your cheeks despite the cold temperature of the water around you.

 “I just thought it was cute. That’s all.” You let your body sink into the water in an attempt to avoid his gaze but your body stills. 

 “Trying to run away are we? Do I need to put you in your place Y/N?” You feel his strings loop underneath your arms. His left and right index fingers lift up causing your body to come out of the water in one motion. A shocked gasp leaves your lips as you fly out of the pool water and into the cold evening air. You sometimes forget that no matter how big you are, Doffy can and will treat you like a rag doll. You land rather ungracefully in front of the Blonde. Goosebumps rise onto your wet skin, but you're unsure if it’s from the cold air on your wet body or from the aura radiating off the man above you. 

 You peer into Doffy’s sunglasses and see your shivering body looking back. Your arms cross in front of your body in a sad attempt to warm up. You expect to see a sadistic smirk on his face, but you're met with an expression you’ve never seen on him. It makes you a little anxious not knowing what he’s thinking about or feeling. It dawns on you that he knows you read romance novels now, meaning he was most likely not very happy with you at the moment. 

 “I’m sorry If I upset you, Doffy. I promise I won’t read books like that anymore.” You try to diffuse the situation but it’s too late. His hand raises into the air. A sense of fear washes over you, causing your body to tremble even more. You feel a rush of wind in front of your face causing your eyes to slam shut. You tensed up preparing for the impact.. But it never came, instead the smell of his expensive cologne invades your nostrils as warmth engulfs your body. You let your eyes flutter open to see that he placed his pink feather jacket around your frame. It takes a while for your brain to process it. The cold, unloving and emotionally unavailable Donquixote         Doflamingo did something…. nice?   

 “Thank you young master.” He never lets anyone wear his jacket, NEVER. You wrap the jacket around your body more to enjoy its warmth. 

 “I was getting annoyed watching you shake like a pathetic little leaf.” He retorted with a scowl. “Now. Why don't I show you what a 'good part’ is supposed to be like.”  He points a finger at your neck, causing a string to connect to your flesh like a leash. He gives the string a firm tug, sending you to the ground on your knees in front of him. “Spread.” His commanding voice sends excitement through your veins.

 “Yes sir.” You move your knees apart as far as you can. The course ground below dug into your knees, but you didn’t care. As bad as you hate to admit to yourself, you’ve missed this and you’ve missed him. 

 “Good, now look at me.” You crane your head back in order to look up at him. Your body feels like it is shrinking as the10 ft tall man looms over you. Your mind goes blank when you feel the pointed tip of his shoe moving up and down your swimsuit covered pussy. “I’m going to cut you a deal so listen up.” His shoe puts extra pressure on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips. “If you can be a good girl and do everything I say without question, I will give you a reward.” His foot retracts much to your dismay. But the mention of a reward entices you.

 “I will, I promise sir!” And just like that, you submit yourself to him. 

 “You will or else.” Doffy began to walk away leaving you to crawl behind him. You're thankful the steps he took were a lot smaller than normal, otherwise you’d have a hard time keeping up. It dawned on you how embarrassing the situation was. Here you are crawling around on all fours with Doffy’s jacket on. I probably look like a poodle. 

  You got lucky and didn’t run into any family members while Doffy paraded you around like the loyal lap dog you are. A couple of guards saw you, but they didn’t dare to say a word knowing Doflamingo would kill them on the spot. The door to your room was finally on site, but he walked past it. Your bedroom is the only place he agreed to do the deed in. It gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. You know better than to question him, but you're still curious as to where he’s taking you.

 “You’ll find out soon enough.” Doffy answers as if he read your mind. Much to your surprise you find yourself in front of the door to his room. In the time you’ve been with him, not once have you seen the inside of his bedroom. “Stand up.” The string on your neck beckons you to your feet. You wince as you stand up, knees throbbing due to all the crawling you’ve done.

 Doffy slings the door open and leads you in. The door clicks shut and the sound of the lock being turned echoes in the bedroom. His room was so big it made yours look like a mere closet. Your eyes land on the double king bed in the middle of the room. As you look at it, the only word that comes to mind is sin.  A blood red canopy surrounded the dark oak frame. The mattress itself was covered with a plush black duvet and luxury pillows. It was most definitely fit for a fallen angel like Doflamingo. 

 The string around your neck comes loose, leaving a ring of irritated skin in its absence. Doflamingo walks over to a red armchair that sat adjacent from his bed. He sat down and spread his long legs, giving you a perfect view of the hardening erection in his pants. With a devilish smile on his face, he beckons you over with a motion of his finger. Your body tingles with nervousness as you get closer and closer to him. You were only a few feet away from him when his hand came into the air, letting you know to stop. The same hand pointed a finger in the air and swirled in a circle. You nod and turn around to face the bed. A rush of air sends shivers down your body as the pink feather jacket was taken from your body, leaving you in your damp swimsuit. You turn your head and watch as the jacket drapes around the armchair Doffy sat in. 

 “Did I give you permission to turn around Y/N?” You whip your head back around to face the bed, causing Doffy to chuckle at your speed.

 “No sir, I’m sorry.” You hope your action didn’t piss him off enough to take your reward. 

 “I didn’t give you permission to speak either little whore.” Your body trembles at his condescending tone. “You're very lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise you could have kissed that reward goodbye.” A wave of relief washes over you knowing it was still on the table. “Now strip and do not turn around for any reason.”  

 Your hands come up to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly you pull them down your arms until your breasts popped out of the top. Your wet nipples harden immediately when they hit the cool air. Your hands come to your back to untie the knot, you struggle for a moment before it comes loose. With a wet ‘plop’ the garment hits the floor. You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You wanted this, you needed this. You take a shaky breath in and slide your hands down your curves until you reach the band of your swim bottoms. You curl your fingers around the fabric and bring it down until they fall around your ankles. You step out of the bottoms and kick them next to your top. You're now completely exposed to the heavenly demon.

 “Good girl.” Your body heats up at his praise. “Now bend over the bed.” You take a few steps forward and let your upper body fall onto the bed. You scooch back a little and spread your legs apart. “Spread yourself more.” You know exactly what he’s wanting you to do, and you're going to deliver. You slide your hands down your body until they reach the globes of your ass. Your fingers pull them apart, exposing your wet pussy even more. You wiggle your hips from side to side, showing him how needy you are for him.

 “What a dirty little girl, what will I ever do with you?” Your body tenses up when you feel something attach to your clit. A string? “Now I’m sure you're wondering why we came here instead of your room.” A moan leaves your throat when you feel the string moving your clit in small circles. You were so sensitive from being celibate for weeks, it took no time for your orgasm to start building. You hear Doflamingo let out an amused hum. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking you're about to cum.” You have to hold back a scream as the string picks up the pace even more. 

 You dig your nails into the flesh of your ass in an attempt to ground yourself, but you are too far gone. Your hips start desperately swirling with the strings movement. Fuck it feel so good. But right before you could get your release the string retacts. Your head falls flat on the bed as tears of frustration form in your eyes due to the loss of your high. 

 “Can’t have that now, can we?” You don’t have to see Doffy’s face to know he’s wearing a shit eating grin. You should have known better than to think he’d let you cum this early. You hear him get up from the armchair. His loud footsteps reverberate in the room. You feel the bed dip as he hoovers above you. “Now as I was saying, the reason I brought you here is quite simple. Your bed is a little bit too small.” You feel his hot breath next to your right ear as he speaks. You wonder what changed? The size of your bed has never stopped him before. You tense up when you feel the bed dip on the other side of your body. Is there someone else here? “Too small for the both of us that is.” Your heart stops when you hear Doffy’s voice fill your left ear. It made no sense, how can he be on both sides of you at once? You try to lift yourself up, but a large hand keeps your face shoved into the mattress. 

 “Do you understand what’s happening now?” His voice fills your right ear again. You feel one of his hands wrap around your hair, pulling it back to leave your neck exposed. “I’ll give you a little hint.” Now it was back in your left ear. You feel hot breath on both sides of your neck before tongues lick up the sides in perfect unison. Rough hands grab your sides and with one quick motion your body was turned so your back was now on the mattress. 

 Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see what’s above you. Your eyes land on not one, but two very shirtless Donquixote Doflamingo’s. They both wore the same lust filled expression. 

 “Two Doffy’s? How?” You mutter out in shock. Your nerves are on edge, one Doffy was enough to fuck you into a week long coma. But two of them? That would surely send you to an early grave. As Lao G would say “You’re a goner with a capital G!”   

 “While you were busy getting off on my string, I made a clone of myself.” The Doflamingo on your right spoke, meaning he must be the real one. “It talks like me, it can even use strings like me, but most importantly” Doffy pulls you up from the bed until your face is inches from his. “ It can fuck like me.” His tongue licks a wet stripe up your face. “But a slut like you should be able to handle us, right?.” You hesitate for a second, but nod your head in agreement.

 “Now let’s have a little fun.” Doffy’s clone spoke up, licking its lips. 

 “Sounds good. Hold the little slut up for me.” The clone nods and moves on the bed until it is behind you. Its strong arms hook under your thighs and brings you up until your back rests on its abs. 

 “It's almost pathetic how wet you are.” The real Doffy stole your breath by rubbing his fingers up and down your exposed slit. Your head slams back on the clone's hard chest when Doffy shoves two fingers deep into your cunt. The long digits rubbed along the top of your walls, paying attention to your sweet spots.  

 “Of course I’m wet. Don’t you remember making me fall into the pool sir?” You smile at Doffy innocently, but your bratty tone was anything but that. 

 “Is that it?” The dark tone in Doffy’s voice made you regret it instantly. And then you see the vein in his forehead pop out, you know you're in for it now. 

 “What a dumb whore you are.” The clone spoke before biting the side of your neck harshly, causing you to cry out in pain. “You are so fucked.”

 “Tell me you foolish girl, does this taste like pool water to you?” Doffy pulls his fingers from your dripping hole and shoves them in your mouth. You could taste your arousal as he shoves his fingers even further down your throat.

 “Aren’t you going to answer him?” The clone taunted before licking the bite wound it left. “I guess it’s hard to, considering your mouth is so full huh?” Your vision blurs with tears as you gag around Doffy’s fingers.

 “I’m going to take my fingers out. I suggest you apologize and beg for my forgiveness.” The fingers slowly begin to slide out. “Afterall, you want that reward, don’t you?” His fingers leave with a trail of your saliva. Coughs erupt from your throat as you catch your breath. Your mind has been so clouded over you forgot about the promised reward. 

 “I am very sorry sir. Please forgive me!” Your voice rasps out. 

 “That's all you got? What a lackluster performance.” Doffy grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together. “I’ll give you one last chance. Use it well, my patience with you is running very thin at the moment.” His hand releases your cheeks. 

 “Sir, please forgive me for being such a dumb brat. I’ll be a good and obedient cocksleeve the rest of the night for the both of you! So please use me until I deserve your forgiveness.” Tears are flowing down your face as you desperately beg him. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t take my reward from me..” You're unsure why you want the reward so desperately when you don’t even know what it is. 

 “That’s more like it. But I still think you need to learn your lesson.” Doffy's hand reared back before smacking you across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make it sting. “Now are you ready to be a good girl?” 

 “Yes sir.” You feel a few more tears fall down your face. Doffy’s hand reaches back out. You prepare yourself for another smack, but instead he wipes the tears away with his hand. 

 “Good.” You watch Doflamingo unzip his pants, freeing his hard cock. “Drop her.” The clone releases you so you fall, landing all fours. You feel the bed move underneath you as Doffy leans his body against the headboard. “Come over here and put that stupid mouth of yours to good use.” 

 You waste no time crawling in between his legs. You stick your ass up in the air and start licking him up and down. His cock twitches under your tongue as you lick the sensitive spot under his tip. You hear him grunt meaning he wants more. You give one last lick before wrapping your lips around him. His huge size stretches your mouth until it's borderline unbearable. One of his large hands thread through your hair before he slams into you. You do your best not to gag around him as he sets a rough pace. 

 “Her pussy is so wet, like it's crying for our attention.” The clone lands a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to yelp around Doffy’s dick. “See.” You feel its fingers run up and down your pussy before bringing its hand to show Doflamingo your glistening arousal. You feel a hard twitch in your mouth as Doffy grunts. He’s getting close. 

 “I’m going to cum and I expect you to swallow every last drop.” With a few more rough thrusts he fills your mouth full of his thick cum. You swallow every bit of it and stick your tongue out to prove it.

 “Where are your manners?” The clone grabs your hair and yanks your head back. “What do you say when your master gives you his cum?” The clone releases your hair so you can look back at Doffy. 

 “Thank you master.” You smile at him through lidded eyes. He let out a satisfied hum in response.  Although you're not able to see his eyes thanks to his sunglasses, you're certain they would have a glint of satisfaction in them.

 “Get her prepared for me. She’s going to need it.” The clone got to work right away by flipping you onto your back. It hooked your legs over its shoulders before licking a long stripe up your slit. 

 “A-AH~” Your hips arch off the bed as the clone starts to eat you out. Its tongue would swirl around your clit before diving deep into your cunt. You could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen already. “ F-fuck it feels so… good~ Your tongue is the best!” You feel the Clone smirk against you.

 “The best huh? So even better than the real one?” The clone gives your clit a harsh suck before looking up at you. “I’m flattered.” It landed a playful smack on your thigh before continuing its assault on your swollen clit. You throw your head back and notice the furious look Doflamingo was giving his clone.

 “Doffy wait I didn’t mean it like tha-” You cut yourself off as a wanton moan escapes your lips. The clone's tongue started stroking that spot deep within you that had your toes curling. “Right there please~ I’m gonna cum~”

 “I’ve had enough of this.” You feel Doffy’s body move from behind you. You whine when the Clones tongue leaves you right as you are about to peak. You bring your head up to see Doflamingo had joined his clone in between your legs. They were both gripping one of your thighs while giving each other a dangerous glare. Was he getting jealous…. of his own clone?

 “Well I haven’t, so back off.” The clone had no plans of backing down as it gripped your thigh tighter. 

 “Do you actually believe you're better than me? Have you forgotten that you're a damn clone?” Doffy clenches his teeth and grabs the clone around the neck. “I can make you go away with a snap of my fingers.” You hold in a laugh as you watch the two bickering. 

 “Well how about we settle this?” You watch as the clone pulls Doffy’s hand off. “Let’s see who can make her cum first.” An evil grin etches itself on Doflamingo’s face at his Clones proposal. 

 “Fine by me.” Doffy agrees as they both turn to look at you. You felt like conquerors' haki was being used on you the way your body froze to the bed. 

 They both start leaving kisses and bite marks down your legs. Slowly but surely they inched closer to the place you wanted them the most. Finally you feel their hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. 

 “Doffy.” You call out to the man himself, gaining his attention. “Please make me cum, only you can~” He smirks at you before his expert tongue starts lapping at your folds. It's very rare that Doffy eats you out, but when he does you're always left speechless. You wish you could thank the clone for pressing his buttons.

 “Don’t forget about me.” You feel the clone's tongue join Doffy’s. The two tongues fight for dominance as they lick every inch of your needy pussy. Your body vibrates from the sheer ecstasy you're experiencing. 

 One of Doffy’s hands snakes up your body to wrap firmly around your neck. You had no trouble figuring out which tongue was the real Doffy’s. Everytime he flicks your clit, he squeezes your neck as if to remind you who your pussy belongs to. 

 “I’m gonna cum~” Your hand grabs onto Doffy’s blonde hair as your body twitches.

"Your not needed anymore." Doflamingo pulls the clone away you before shoving two fingers deep into you. Your legs begin to shake as he syncs the pace of his fingers and tongue together. The perfect harmony of pleasure was driving you even closer to the edge.

 “That’s not fair.” The clone attempts to reclaim his spot between your legs, but was quickly shut down.

 “Have we ever been known to be fair?” With a snap of Doffy's fingers, the sound of string unwinding mixes with your moans. The clone had a scowl on its face before it disappeared. His fingers pick up the pace causing you to grip his hair tighter. “Be a good little girl and cum for me.”

 “Fuck~” Your body quivers as your overdue orgasm crashes over you. Doffy’s tongue detaches from your clit, but his fingers begin to rock up and down harder. You try to fight the urge to let go, knowing what would happen if you do. “Stop Doffy, I’m going to make a mess!”  Your warning came too late as your second orgasm washes over you, causing clear liquid to gush out of you. 

 “I win. Now to claim my prize.” Doffy places his fingers in his mouth and sucks your juices off them. It's hard to lose when you get rid of your competition. “Get on your hands and knees, now.” 

 You miraculously get yourself into the position he wants. Your hands shake trying to hold your worn out body up. Stay focused Y/N, don’t pass out. You hear the familiar sound of a condom being opened as the bed dips. One of his hands ghost up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. The same hand wraps tightly around your hair as he bottoms out in one motion. He stays pressed up against your cervix for a few minutes, letting your walls stretch and relax around him. You move up and down his length, letting him know your ready.

 The pace he sets is rapid and ruthless. His cock effortlessly hits all of your sweet spots with every thrust. The blinding pleasure was starting to build up all over again. Your hands shook violently on the bed, you know they are going to give out any moment now. 

 “Are you struggling?” Doflamingo deep voice whispers in your ear. “Want your master to help you?” You weakly nod your head. Doffy’s free arm hooked under you, bringing you off the bed until your back was flush against his chest. He bottoms out again and continues his relentless thrusts. The new position gave him full control over your body, leaving you completely at his mercy. 

 The hand that was in your hair moved down until it stopped at one of your neglected nipples. He rolls the bud between his thumb and index finger before pinching it hard. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He then moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. 

 “It feels so good.~” Your hand goes down to play with your clit but Doffy stops you.

 “Not so fast little girl.” He switches the position to where he is laying on the bed with you on top. “You're being so selfish, making me do all of the work.” His thumb starts circling your clit causing you grind down on him. “As a matter of fact you’ve not only selfish. You’ve been disobedient, bratty and you even went as far to say that stupids clone tongue was better than mine. You don’t deserve that reward, not even in the slightest.” His cold tone causes you to halt your movements. Something about it struck a chord deep within you. 

 “I’m sorry Doffy.” It hurt knowing he was so disappointed in you. You feel your mood declining. All the dopamine and adrenaline that coursed through your body had finally run out, leaving you emotionally vulnerable.  

 “I’m not finished talking yet, so stop crying and listen.” You were unaware of your tears until he mentioned it. You watch as his hand comes up to his sunglasses. He inhales a deep breath and pulls the glasses off. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes. No one has ever seen his eyes, not even Trebol has. “Look at me Y/N.” Slowly, you drop your hands. Your eyes connect with his. His right eye was ruby red, while his left eye was white and foggy. 

 “Doffy.....Your eyes are beautiful. But why? Why did you show me?” You look at him in awe. 

 “I can’t even answer that myself.” He sighs and runs a hand through his blonde locks. “It doesn't matter anyways. You still want that reward?” 

 “Yes, I do.” You were starting to think him showing you his eyes was the reward. 

 “Make me cum and it’s yours.” He crosses his arms behind his back. Out of everything you and him have done tonight, this was by far the most intimate.

 You slowly start going up and down his length. Every fiber in your body was screaming at you to stop, but the desire to please the man below you was louder. The lewd sounds of your body's connecting fill the room once more. You pick up the pace as you chase your high. Doffy’s hands reach out and grab onto your plush hips. His grip was getting tighter and tighter, causing your hips to roll and grind on him.

 “Fuck.” Doffy curses. One of his hands leaves your hip and moves to wrap around your neck. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?” 

 “My master.” You cry out as the grip around your neck tightness.

 “And who is your fucking master.” He brings your head down so your eyes meet his. 

 “You!” Tears of pleasure rolled down your face. “Donquixote Doflamingo!” You cling onto consciousness as you meet your final orgasm. Doffy follows you as he slams against your cervix. You stay still until his cock softens inside you. Slowly you lift yourself off him. Your body collapses on top of him the moment he is fully out of you. You know he is not a fan of skin to skin contact after sex, but you were too weak to hold yourself up.

 “Doffy.” You muster enough energy to lift your head. “Did I do a good job? Are you going to give me the reward?” Your vision was starting  to go in and out. 

 “Yes, I suppose you did.” A weak smile forms on your lips at his words. 

 “Good.” Your head falls back down on his chest. ”That makes me so happy.” Your eyes close and despite your efforts no to, you black completely out.

~While you were knocked out~

 “How amusing.” Doflamingo snickers at your worn out body splayed on his. “You put all that effort in for a silly reward, just to pass out before you're able to indulge in it.” He lifts your body off of his and lays you gently on the bed. He puts his sunglasses back on and calls a maid in.

 “How can I help you young master?” The maid was blushing ear to ear seeing the state you and him were in.

 “Go get something for Y/N to sleep in from her room and change the sheets. I do apologize, it’s my fault they got a little wet.” The maid's cheeks got even darker at his declaration. Doflamingo picks your limp body from the bed and makes his way over to the bathroom. “And if you tell anyone about this, I will cut your head off and send it to your family. You may go now.” 

 “Yes young master.” Her voice wavers with fear. With a bow she leaves the room.

 Doffy turns his shower on, letting steam fill the room. He sat you down on the shower bench so he could clean himself. After giving his body a good scrub down, he picks your body up and places you under the warm water. He leans your body against his and begins to massage shampoo into your hair. After rinsing the suds out of your hair, he poured shower gel into a washcloth and started to lather it into your skin.

 “You're missing out young lady. I’m even using my expensive soap on you~” No response. Doffy rolls his eyes and continues to rinse your body off. He turns the shower off after he deems you squeaky clean. He sat you back down on the bench so he could dry himself off. He threw on a pair of silky pink boxers and then got to work drying you off. 

 He picks you up and takes you back into the bedroom. The maid had laid your clothes out on the freshly made bed. Doffy grabs the night gown and places it over your body. He never in a million years would have thought about pampering a woman like this. But yet here he is.

 “I normally only take these off of a woman, but I guess I’ll make an exception just this once.” He grabs your panties and rolls them up your legs. He admires the small pink flamingo that decorates them. “I’ll have to buy you more of these.”

 He pulls the duvet down and places you under it. After turning the lamp off he joined you in the bed.

 “Baby 5……” You mumble in your unconscious state. “If you go out, get me the latest copy of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And don’t let Doffy find out.” 

 “I’m not Baby 5 and I already know you read those silly books you insufferable woman.” Doffy whispers in your ear and as he expected you don’t respond. 

 Doflamingo has never been one to fall asleep easily, normally he reads a book or ponders his next heinous act. But tonight he finds himself watching your sleeping form. The moonlight that peeks through the curtains casts an ethereal glow on your face. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after?” He recalls your request from that night. You have technically already showered together, even though you weren't awake for any of it. Which was of course your (Doffy’s) fault. Now it was time to fulfill the last part of your request.  His arm hooks around your midsection and pulls you so your head rests on his chest.

 His arm wraps around your back keeping you snug against him. He’d never openly admit it to you, but he was enjoying this. From the way you snuggled closer to him, to the way your body molds perfectly with his. Like you were made for him. Because you were made for him. He has never been one to keep the same woman around for long. He viewed women how children viewed toys. They are fun for a little while, until something more fun comes along. But not you. You're different from the others who threw themselves at him. He of course finds you very attractive, but there was something else that allured him more. 

  You are truly like his loyal lap dog. No matter how much he neglects you and no matter how many times he metaphorically “kicks you”, the moment he sticks his hand out you come running to him with that dopey smile plastered on your face. You're so hopelessly devoted to him and he loves it. You can’t live without him, he knows that. But a small part of him feels the same way towards you.

 “I think I’ll keep you around. For now at least.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Your body stirs awake when you feel something tickling your ear. You search for the cause only to hear light snores coming from above you. Slowly you raise yourself from the bed to see the source of the snores was coming from none other than Doflamingo. You bite down on your lip in order not to laugh. It was so funny to watch a man so powerful and scary snoring.  He was still human after all. One particularly loud snore causes a giggle to escape your lips. You slam a hand over your mouth and pray he didn’t hear. 

 “Mind telling me what’s so funny?” It was too late, the beast was already lifting up from the bed.

 “It’s nothing Doffy, you were just snoring.” You press your hands against his chest urging him to lay back down. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome, I apologize. Sleep well young master.” You scooch yourself off the bed only to be pulled back by a strong arm. He brought you back down to his tone chest and wrapped his arm back around you, caging you to his side. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the gesture. You lips form into a wide smile as you enjoy the warmth he provided.

 “I don’t snore. And you're fine right where you are. This is your reward after all.” You feel his hand draw soothing shapes into your back. I must be dreaming.

 “If that’s the case, I really like my reward. Thank you.” Your eyes travel up to meet his. You were on cloud 9 and the huge smile on your face proved that. He rolls his eyes at you before slamming your head back down. “Can I request one more thing?” You muffle out into his pecs.

 “Well, aren't you a greedy girl? What is this request of yours?” You feel your heartbeat pick up. You hope this doesn't go south like last time. 

 “Will you please kiss me? I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me and I-.” Your cutoff when his lips connect with your. It catches you off guard, but you slowly melt into it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Thankfully he pulls away before it gets too heated, you doubt your worn out body could go another round.

 “Satisfied?” You meekly nod before laying back down on him. “Good, now go back to sleep.”

 “One more thing.” You hear him groan out in response. “Now that I’ve seen your eyes, are you going to kill me?” The room fell silent before he started laughing.

 “Perhaps.” You don’t know what worse, the fact he’s laughing about it or not knowing if that perhaps was a joke or not. “Now go back to sleep or I may actually off you.” That time you could sense he was kidding. He was kidding right?

 “Yes sir.” And with that you fell back asleep in his protective hold.

 ~The morning after~

 You woke up alone in Doflamingo’s ginormous bed. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll off of the plush mattress. Judging from the amount of sunshine that filled the room, it was very late in the morning. You stretch your arms over your head and let out a satisfied hum.

  Your eyes scan the room and stop on a large tray of sweets sitting on a table. After last night activities, you've worked up a appetite. You walk up to investigate the confections and notice a couple books stacked neatly beside it. You jump up and down when you realize the books are the latest volumes of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And they were all signed copies! There was even a copy of the book that was destroyed in the pool yesterday.

 “What page was I on again?” You open the book and skim through the pages until you find a pink feather marking page 112.

 Unknown to you, a certain warlord watched you with a rare, but rather pleasant smile on his face.

~End~