#There's a reason this thing was never discussed before until like last year get a grip

[planetaryupscaled]

Just Roommates

Male OC x Ryujin

Tags: 30k, smut, cheating, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just get our own place,” muttered Ryujin, gazing scornfully at the stack of lease renewal papers scattered atop the kitchen counter.

She loathed the idea of her and her boyfriend, Tae, signing away an additional year of their lives in the apartment they shared with his buddy from college.

“You know I can’t stand being around that arrogant piece of shit anymore...”

“I know you don’t like him, but Junho is my best friend, and it’s just unrealistic for us to try and afford a place on our own right now, babe,” Tae replied. “Just one more year. By then we should have enough saved up to move out on our own, and you’ll have your degree. We just have to make this small sacrifice for our future, and besides, I know you’ll warm up to him if you give him a chance,” he added.

“I seriously doubt that,” Ryujin said through her frown.

Her boyfriend’s logic was sound though, and she couldn’t deny it was the sensible choice. She had moved in with the two men only a month prior, and she and Tae were barely earning enough to afford the shared living space they currently had. An additional year of hardship would end with her finally achieving her bachelor’s degree, at which point she could start her career and be stable enough to gain more independence.

Tae studied Ryujin as she contemplated his reasoning. He handed her a pen, and to his relief, she took it and began adding her signature to the many pages.

“Thanks, babe. I know it’s not ideal, but I really appreciate your understanding.”

“Yeah, yeah... But we should really establish some new rules around here. I’m getting sick and tired of Junho bringing random sluts’ home and disturbing our peace.” Ryujin took the opportunity to try and gain a little more control in the household.

Junho treated the place like he owned it, and Tae always turned a blind eye, allowing his friend to walk all over him. It was one of several reasons why Ryujin despised living with their roommate.

“That’s fair... I’ll talk to him,” Tae responded, now adding his signature to the document. He didn’t enjoy the thought of confronting Junho about his habits, and secretly wished his girlfriend was a little more easy-going.

Just then, the apartment door swung open, and Junho strolled in with his usual confident gait and cocky smile.

“Hey, roomies!”

His eyes fell to the freshly inked lease agreement. “Oooh, so we made up our minds, did we?” The tall, well-dressed man shuffled in between the couple and picked up the pen to seal the deal. Ryujin had to stop herself from ripping up the papers on the spot.

“Yup. One more year together,” Tae answered, grinning.

“Well this calls for a drink, doesn’t it?” Junho announced rhetorically, trading glances with each of them as he added his name to the many pages. Tae grabbed a bottle of vodka and some glasses, and poured the three of them a shot.

After filling in the last blank, and slamming the pen down, Junho raised his glass. “To another fun year!” The trio drank their shots, one more reluctantly than the others, and Junho continued speaking. “I mean, I could afford this place on my own, but it’s way more fun having you guys around! Plus we all save a ton of cash this way.”

Ryujin visibly grimaced. The man’s arrogance never failed to disgust her. “Before you get too carried away, I think we should discuss some things,” she said.

Both men turned to her, Tae looking nervous. “I think you should treat Tae and I with a little more respect. We live here too, and it’s not fair that you’re constantly coming home really late with different women, not giving us a heads up, and then being... unreasonably loud all night.”

Junho remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly letting her words sink in. Ryujin had the brief thought that perhaps she had finally gotten through to him, until he spoke.

“Jealous much?” He said sarcastically, laughing.

She crossed her arms, fuming, and he added, “C’mon... I’m just kidding. Ryujin. I get it. I’ll be better about that. I promise.”

Junho extended his hand towards her and she rolled her eyes, but shook his hand anyway. Before releasing her from his firm grip, he murmured under his breath, “I’d rather take your sexy ass to bed any night of the week...”

Ryujin recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. “You’re a fucking asshole!” She raised her eyebrows at Tae, suggesting he had better defend her in some way.

“I’m sure he’s just kidding around...” The boyfriend muttered.

“Of course I’m joking!” Junho bellowed. “I would never, ever, try to steal you from Tae here,” he said condescendingly, wrapping a muscled arm around his smaller friend and jostling him around.

“If you were single though-” Ryujin’s icy glare interrupted him. “I’m just saying you’re a catch, okay? Learn to take a compliment!”

“I’d prefer if you never complimented me again! I don’t want any of that from you,” she explained sternly. Junho’s crude comments highlighted another major reason she disliked him. He was always stealing suggestive looks at her, and making inappropriate remarks about her appearance. She felt as if he regarded her as nothing more than a sexual object. Whenever she brought it up to her boyfriend, he would minimize it, making excuses that his friend was just playing around, and that it was just his sense of humor.

“Alright, sheesh. Sorry...” Junho apologized with a hint of sarcasm.

The trio spent the rest of the night in relative peace, sipping drinks and discussing their days at work. Ryujin felt a mild sense of relief that she had at least confronted her unwanted roommate and finally spoken up for herself. Still, she knew that there was a long year ahead of her.

—

A few weeks later, Ryujin was finishing up an assignment on her laptop when a distressed looking Tae suddenly came home, far earlier than usual. “Everything okay, babe?” She asked worriedly, noticing he was carrying a large cardboard box.

“Fuck... I... Just got fired...” He replied, avoiding eye contact and dropping the container onto the kitchen counter.

“What!? Why?” Ryujin shoved her laptop to the side and rushed over to him.

Tae sighed heavily and began to explain, “I... It’s so fucking stupid... I backed up some sensitive documents on my personal drive so I could work on them here one night, and apparently that violates some confidentiality policy. I guess they scanned all the computers in the office looking for that sort of thing. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen... HR just called me into an office and told me they had no choice but to let me go.”

Ryujin didn’t know what to say or do. She had never seen her boyfriend so distraught. “Can’t you just give them the files back?” She asked, knowing it probably didn’t make sense.

“They demanded I turn over the drive to them, which I did, but they said it was policy to terminate anyone who broke that rule... Fuck!” Tae was pacing around the room now, pulling at his hair. “Now any accounting job I look for is going to ask why I got fired. This is not good...”

“We’ll think of something,” she said reassuringly, not really believing her own words.

That night, the worried couple broke the bad news to their roommate.

“Well, what are you gonna do? Y’all gonna break this new lease on me already?” Junho asked, looking less calm than his usual self. “I was counting on your guys’ portion so I could invest more.”

“I don’t see any other option. There’s no way we’ll be able to afford rent right now. Any extra money we had has gone towards Ryujin’s student loans...” Tae lamented.

Junho fell silent for a minute or so, his eyes darting back and forth, when an idea occurred to him. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your share of the rent until you get a new job.”

“Huh? No... No, you can’t do that,” Tae brushed off his friend’s proposition.

“I can. I’d rather just front you the money for a bit than deal with trying to find a new roommate. Way too much of a hassle,” Junho argued.

“Bro, I appreciate the offer, but that’s asking way too much of you...I don’t even know how long it will take me to land another job.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that long. Besides, where would you even go? Everywhere remotely close to Ryujin’s school is just as expensive if not more, and where would you get the cash for a new security deposit and all that shit? As far as I can tell your options are here or the streets.”

Junho’s words hit both of them hard. They hadn’t even had the time to consider how desperate their situation was. He was right. As of right then, they didn’t have enough money to live anywhere, let alone even be approved as tenants with their current situation. Ryujin chimed in first, “I could try to find a part time job or something...”

“No, your focus is still getting your degree. I don’t want this to fuck up our future. Plus, that wouldn’t be enough income anyway,” Tae replied. “I guess... since there’s no other option... We’ll have to take you up on your offer, Bro. I’ll pay you back when I can of course.”

“Don’t worry about the money. You guys can start paying me back right away, in fact,” Junho said, grinning smugly. “Hear me out... You won’t owe me a dime for the rent I cover while you’re out of work, but... Ryujin has to sleep in my bed three nights a week.”

The room fell dead silent, the couple doubting they had heard him correctly. Tae simply muttered, “What?”

Ryujin felt her blood boiling, and stammered, “You must be fucking joking...”

Junho chimed in again before they could process his ridiculous demand any further. “I’m not joking, and before you get any ideas, it’s not a sexual thing at all... I would be spending a great deal of cash to help you guys out, and I would need something big in return that makes me feel like it’s worth it-”

“Not sexual my ass! What in the hell are you talking about?” Ryujin interrupted, her face bright crimson. She shot a glance at her boyfriend, shocked he wasn’t more outraged.

“Well, for one, I just prefer having a woman’s company. It helps me sleep better, but it’s getting a little tiresome having to go on all these dates just to find a new bed buddy. They always want a relationship, and I’m not interested, so I have to go out and find someone else all over again. It’s expensive too, and since I’ll be a lot shorter on cash in the near future, having Ryujin around will make that whole situation a lot easier on me,” Junho explained calmly.

“...Sleeping buddy? You expect us to believe that!?” Ryujin challenged him. “There’s a lot more than sleeping going on in there, which we are forced to listen to all the time by the way.”

“Sure, we usually end up fucking, but my point is that I want a break from all that without having to sleep alone every night.” Junho continued the level-headed explanation of his terms, despite the mortified look on his roommates’ faces. “Plus, it bothers me that you hate me so much, and this will give us some time to get better acquainted. It’s honestly a great deal for you guys. Just think it over, and let me know.” With that, he turned for his bedroom and left the dumbfounded couple standing awkwardly in silence.

“So... we’re obviously not doing that,” Ryujin said finally.

“Yeah, no way. We’ll explore our options more tomorrow,” Tae agreed.

“Why didn’t you say more? You just stood there while he suggested the most degrading thing! Some fucking best friend you got there...”

“I know... I’m sorry... I mean it is a lot of money. He just wants us to take it seriously I guess-”

“Are you actually defending that creep? What part of how we’re handling this isn’t fucking serious? To suggest that we pay him back like... ugh... like I’m some fucking whore...”

“Let’s just go to bed. We’ll figure something else out.” Tae muttered, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can’t believe you. Both of you!” The young girlfriend yelled in anger and stormed off towards her bedroom, slamming the door.

—

The next week or so was nothing short of problematic for the young couple. They did not discuss the preposterous proposition their roommate had made, and focused all of their energy on finding a solution. Tae and Ryujin spent hours browsing apartments and rooms to rent, but no matter how they crunched the numbers, there was simply no way they could afford to sustain themselves. The cost of rent had increased drastically in the entire region, and every listing they browsed left them feeling more desperate.

Ryujin avoided Junho entirely. The fact that he had referred to her as an object for trade made her skin crawl, and yet his twisted deal clawed at the back of her mind. The notion that all of their financial troubles could be washed away in the blink of an eye was becoming harder to ignore as the situation worsened.

Each passing day, she considered the offer a little more seriously, rationalizing away the absurdity of it.

One night, the couple lay in bed after a failed attempt to have sex. The dire circumstances had drained Tae of his libido, and his desire to share some shred of pleasure with Ryujin proved impossible. On the verge of tears, he whimpered, “What are we gonna do...”

Ryujin felt a pit in her stomach. They couldn’t go on living like this. She felt a sudden surge of guilt, knowing that she could end their suffering at any time. After an exasperated sigh, she mumbled, “What if... we just try it out... for one night...”

“No... There has to be another way...” Tae replied.

“But there isn’t. We just need more time. I’m willing to give it a try... As long as he plays by my rules.”

“Are you sure, babe?”

“Ugh... no... but I’ll do it for us. It would probably just be a few times until you find another job after all, right?”

“Right. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.” Ryujin curled up and tried to sleep, but the knowledge of what they had just agreed to had tied her stomach into knots.

—

The following day, after hours of unsuccessful job and apartment hunting, the couple were a bundle of nerves as they waited for Junho to get home from work. When the moment finally came, he could tell immediately that there was an abnormal energy in the air.

“What’s going on guys? Don’t tell me you found a new place...”

Tae cleared his throat. “Ehm... No... We... were talking, and...”

He didn’t need to finish for Junho to figure it out. His friend’s awkward speech pattern and Ryujin’s scornful body language made it quite clear.

“You’re agreeing to the deal?” Junho asked, grinning.

“Yeah...” Tae muttered.

“But just a trial! If you can prove to me that you’ll be a gentleman through this, and not your usual...” Ryujin had to stop herself from hurling one of several cutting insults that were on the tip of her tongue, “...self... Then maybe this can work out.”

“I will be the perfect, platonic roommate. I promise. Let’s drink to it!” Junho hurried to pour shots, and the three of them did their best to enjoy the evening. After several rounds of drinks and some light-hearted discussion, the group was about ready to call it a night. No one had made any mention of the impending strangeness that would occur when they eventually decided to go to bed, but the time had come.

Ryujin was feeling fairly intoxicated as she kissed her boyfriend goodnight. It was the strangest feeling knowing they were going into separate rooms, but she had made up her mind and wasn’t going to turn back now. Surprisingly, Junho had actually been tolerable for the past couple of hours. She knew he couldn’t have actually changed that quickly, but to see him at least making an effort was a good start. After reluctantly parting ways with Tae, Ryujin followed her roommate to his doorway.

“You’re wearing that to bed?” Junho asked, examining her outfit.

She hadn’t even thought about it. She would normally just strip down to her underwear or throw on a baggy t-shirt with nothing underneath before getting under the covers. Neither of those options would be suitable now. “Damn. Um... be right back.” She trotted to her own room, changed into some gym shorts and a tank top, and gave Tae another kiss before returning to Junho across the apartment. He was in the same spot, and held the door open for her to pass through.

“I know how to open a door you know...” She muttered.

“Perfect gentleman, remember?” Junho responded, chuckling.

Ryujin entered the room and noticed right away that it smelled different than hers. Some sort of foreign, masculine scent hung in the air, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. She realized she had never actually been inside his space before. The next thing she noticed was that the dwelling was surprisingly clean and tidy. She had figured a single guy like him would have been living more or less like a slob, as Tae had before she moved in.

“Which side is mine?” She asked, motioning towards the bed.

“I sleep on the side with the door so I can protect you if anything goes wrong,” he jested.

Ryujin rolled her eyes and sat at the far edge of the bed, which was the third discovery to subvert her expectations. The mattress seemed exceedingly comfortable, and she pressed it a few times with the palm of her hands to examine it.

“Good stuff, right?” He asked, watching her with a cocky smile.

“Not gonna lie,” she said, laying on her back and wiggling into the cushiony material a bit, “This might be the comfiest bed I’ve ever felt.”

“Well I have expensive taste,” Junho bragged. “Glad you like it though,” he added.

“Whatever... This is so fucking weird. Is it morning yet?” Ryujin complained.

“Not even close,” he answered wickedly.

“This whole thing was just a ploy to get under my skin, wasn’t it?” She asked.

“Maybe a little... Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” He asked, still smiling.

“If you don’t understand that by now, I don’t see the point of getting into it,” she snapped.

“Fair enough,” Junho said simply. He began unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off of his torso.

“Dude, can’t you change in the closet or something?” Ryujin chided.

“What? I’m not getting naked or anything,” he stated as he pulled his pants down.

Ryujin looked away. “What the fuck, Junho.”

“Relaaax. I always sleep in my boxers. No big deal.”

Ryujin glanced at him again. She hated to admit it even to herself, but the man was in incredible shape. She could see how he was able to pick up women so consistently. If he wasn’t such a prick he- she shook the thought away and complained again, “Can’t you at least put a shirt on?”

“My room, my rules. By the way, I do take tips,” he joked, laughing at himself.

“You’re the worst...” Ryujin turned to her side, away from him, and decided that the best way to move forward was just to fall asleep as soon as possible. The bed shuffled a bit as he crawled into it next to her, but that was the last disturbance of the night.

—

The sun cast its rays through the blinds and onto Ryujin’s eyes, which she made no attempt to open yet. In her semi-awake state, she felt her boyfriend pressed up against her backside, with his hand on her hip. She then felt the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock against her ass. Her pussy was wet and craving attention. She had been abnormally horny lately due to the stresses of life getting in the way of their sex life. Ryujin slowly rocked her ass back and forth along his hardness, hoping to stir him awake and finally share a long awaited steamy sex session.

She reached back to free his erection and guide it into her dripping slit. It would be so hot for him to wake up inside of me, she thought. Her slender hand dipped into his waistband and wrapped around his shaft. She froze. Whatever she was holding felt foreign, and it was far too big to be Tae’s dick. Reality came rushing back to her and her eyes snapped open. This wasn’t her room; this wasn’t her bed; and the huge cock in her hand belonged to Junho.

Ryujin gasped audibly and quickly pulled her hand away from him. She turned to confirm, to her horror, that it was in fact Junho that she was snuggled up against. He appeared to be fast asleep, which was a relief. She carefully rolled away from him, taking care not to wake him. She realized she had somehow ended up on his side of the bed, a further incriminating detail she would be horrified for him to discover. Her eyes ran down his broad chest and chiseled abs, landing on his massive dick, which was still rock hard and now sticking out of his boxers. Her gaze lingered on it for several seconds. It didn’t even seem real. She had the thought to tuck it back into his underwear for a brief moment, to cover up the rest of the evidence of her mistake. Realizing how unnecessary that would be, she left the bed and exited the room.

As the scorching water of the shower poured over her, Ryujin tried to get the vision of her roommate’s naked body out of her mind. Her pussy ached, begging to be touched, but she would not allow herself to succumb to the temptation. Especially not with the image of Junho’s big cock so fresh in her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she had actually touched the thing, and had never imagined they could get that large. “It was an accident. I didn’t do anything wrong...” She repeated the phrase to herself as she dried off.

Ryujin returned to her own bedroom to find Tae was still asleep. She dropped her towel and climbed on top of him. She took his soft dick in her hands and tried to coax it to life. She desperately needed to get the sexual urges out of her system.

“Good morning, babe. Rise and shine,” she said sweetly.

Tae stirred finally and greeted his naked girlfriend. “How was your night?” He asked right away. She continued to fondle him, but his cock remained as limp as ever.

“It was fine... Weird, but fine,” she answered simply.

“He didn’t do anything... questionable?” Tae inquired.

“No... We just went to sleep. Other than feeling strange to be in the wrong bed, it was a pretty uneventful night overall.” She had decided to keep her awkward mistake to herself. It was too embarrassing and wasn’t worth bringing up since it was just an accident on her part.

“Well that’s good, I guess. Um... Sorry babe. I’m just not feeling it right now,” He muttered, glancing at his softness in her hands.

“That’s okay...” Ryujin tried to hide her disappointment. She had hoped that his sex drive would have improved now that their financial burdens were taken care of, but it made sense to her that it could take some time.

Unfortunately for her, Tae’s libido did not improve much over the next week. He always found some excuse to explain why it wasn’t the right time. Hoping it would improve the situation, Ryujin did not pressure him to look for work. It became apparent that he had stopped searching, but she reasoned that a break was probably healthy after all of the stress they had gone through. A little vacation never hurt anyone, she reminded herself as she observed him settling on the couch and clutching a video game controller.

As for the nights spent in Junho’s room, Ryujin was adjusting to the new routine. Luckily, nothing unsavory had happened since that first confusing morning in his bed. He would verbally tease her and find little ways to press her buttons, but she always had an insult ready to fire back at him. An onlooker might have called it flirting, but she was convinced that she still hated his guts.

Overall, the arrangement was going smoother than she had expected. In fact, Ryujin was surprised to find that she actually slept wonderfully in his luxurious, comfortable bed, and always woke up quite refreshed. Every morning though, she would find that she had soaked through her underwear and would sneak out in shame before Junho awoke. Her sexual appetite had not been addressed and her body was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Ryujin chalked it up to the recent lull in her and Tae’s sex life, but there was clearly a pattern emerging where her most lust-crazed mornings were in Junho’s bed.

One morning in particular, she noticed with dread that she had somehow become draped over him during the night, her cheek against his warm chest and her bare thigh across his crotch. She felt the familiar wetness between her legs and an unfamiliar hardness beneath her. Ryujin glanced down to find that Junho’s sizable morning wood had escaped his boxers and was trapped under her inner thigh, just inches away from her barely-clothed pussy. She cursed herself for unconsciously ending up in a dicey position with him again. She didn’t move, just laying still to collect her thoughts for a moment. His arm was on her, running down the length of her torso with his fingers resting on her ass. It would be difficult to move at all without waking him.

Ryujin’s cunt was on fire, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from giving into the urge to grind against him. The thick mushroom tip of his cock seemed to stare at her, poking out from the soft skin of her upper leg. It looked so plump and juicy, at least twice the size of her boyfriend’s, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it might feel inside of her. If it were in any way possible to ensure he would remain asleep, Ryujin wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist guiding Junho’s hard dick into her dripping wet pussy. She had never felt so tempted in her life.

Finally, after several minutes of suppression, she managed to carefully squirm out of his embrace and free herself of the potential embarrassment of being discovered cuddling so intimately. To her relief, Junho didn’t stir in the slightest as she maneuvered her body off of his. He was seemingly out cold. Unburdened of her weight, his big cock stood tall, pointing straight at the ceiling.

Subconsciously, Ryujin’s hand had found its way down her shorts, and she lightly stroked her aching pussy while gawking at the exposed man. The pleasure hit her in an instant, her impossibly needy sex finally getting some stimulation. Before she fully realized what she was doing, the young girlfriend was firmly rubbing her clit next to her sleeping roommate.

Junho’s huge erection remained fully inflated throughout the duration of her sneaky self-indulgence, and she was fixated on it. She made a conscious effort not to lust over the annoying man beside her, but her mind wouldn’t let her ignore the physical specimen. That fat fucking cock was exactly what her body had been craving for weeks now, and the raw sight of it fueled her burgeoning climax.

Ryujin’s orgasm hit her hard. Her mouth hung open while she quivered on the bed for a solid minute. When the flood of endorphins pummeling her brain finally slowed, she felt a mix of satisfaction and disgust. It bothered her that she had given in to her body’s urges, especially because Junho had been the focal point. She hated him and his alluring cock for breaking her will. As silly and illogical as the thought was, she felt better about what she’d just done by shifting the blame. It was the damn boys that got her into this situation, and thus all of this was their fault. Ryujin took one last look at the nude man and quietly left the bedroom.

A smug grin spread across Junho’s face as he listened to her retreating footsteps. He had been awake the entire time, sneaking quick glances at Ryujin’s masturbation session. He stroked his dick to the thought of her sexy body writhing around on his sheets, knowing he now had the upper hand.

—

The following “Junho night”, as she began calling them, had Ryujin feeling more anxious than usual. She couldn’t control the movements her body made while sleeping, which made her nervous. She couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up first and finding her snuggled up against him. If he were to somehow discover how wet she was, he would never shut up about it. She tried not to worry about all of that as she got onto the far end of his bed and curled up. They traded a few sarcastic remarks while he stripped off his clothes, as usual, and the room fell silent.

“Uh... Ryujin?” Junho asked softly.

“What?” She asked, already rolling her eyes in anticipation of whatever he was about to say.

“Just thought I should mention. I’ve been like... extra horny recently. So, if I happen to have a big boner in the morning or something, I don’t want you to freak out,” he explained.

Ryujin scoffed at him. “Whatever man. Just keep it away from me.”

As Ryujin closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she began hearing a repetitive rubbing sound behind her. When it didn’t stop after several seconds, she turned to look at Junho’s side of the bed.

“Dude, what the hell is-”

The words caught in her throat as she saw that Junho had removed his underwear and was openly jerking off right in front of her.

“What the fuck!?” She shouted, bewildered by his actions.

“Shhhh!” He responded, looking at her sternly while his hand continued to pump up and down.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Ryujin threw the blanket off of her, readying herself to storm out of the room.

“I told you I was abnormally horny...”

“Well, take it to the bathroom or something!” She demanded, fuming.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to masturbate in here, but I’m not?” Junho sneered accusingly.

“I- What are you talking about?” Ryujin asked defensively, feeling her stomach drop.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you the other morning going to town on your little cunt. Right there where you are now,” he accused her.

“What!? That’s bullshit!” She argued, knowing it was hopeless.

“We both know it isn’t. But hey, it’s fine. You have my permission to pleasure yourself in here as much as you want, just don’t expect me to play by a different set of rules. Fair is fair.”

Ryujin moved to get off of the bed. She was humiliated and needed to get away from him. “Where are you going?” Junho asked, still stroking himself with a steady rhythm. When she didn’t answer him, he added, “If you leave, I’ll tell Tae everything.” She froze. “About how his not-so innocent girlfriend couldn’t keep her body to herself, and got so worked up over the sight of my big dick that she played with herself right in front of me.

“You wouldn’t...” Ryujin muttered, half-standing with one knee still on the sheets.

He nodded threateningly. “Don’t ruin this whole arrangement just because you got a little horny. I’m still keeping my hands to myself. Unless you want them on you...”

“I don’t,” she said, defeated. She lay back down in silence, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, but continued watching him.

“Glad you decided to stay. Gotta admit I’d miss my favorite sleeping buddy if you called this deal off,” Junho teased.

“When I call it off,” she corrected him. “This is just a short term thing.”

“Well, I guess we better enjoy it while it lasts, right?”

“You’re certainly enjoying yourself...” She grumbled.

“You could be too...” He suggested.

“You wish,” she said dismissively, trying to ignore the growing heat between her thighs.

Junho was surprised that she still hadn’t looked away. He was having a great deal of fun taunting her while he openly played with himself. “So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“How do I measure up?” He glanced at his cock, and then back at her.

“Pfft. You’re disgusting,” Ryujin muttered. She shuffled a bit as if to turn away from him, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back at his performance.

“C’mon. You can’t deny I’m packing an impressive instrument here,” he teased.

“You seriously think that just cause you wag your big dick around I’m going to instantly drop my panties?”

“So you do admit that it’s big,” Junho retorted confidently.

Her face flushed crimson. “Ugh... You’re so annoying...” She flopped over onto her side, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the scene.

“Ryujin...”

“What now?”

“I’m gonna cum. So hard,” he grunted.

She reluctantly turned to Junho again, just in time to see his thick cock jump and spurt a lengthy rope of semen straight into the air. Another creamy strand of his fluid shot out, and then another, each of them reaching preposterous heights before landing on his toned belly. Ryujin watched in amazement as her roommate ejaculated with more force and volume than she would’ve considered possible. On the surface she looked appalled to witness it, but her pussy burned with desire at the erotic showing.

“Fuck...” She murmured, lost for words and involuntarily squeezing her thighs together...

Junho cleaned himself off and settled into the bed. “Night,” he said smugly. He turned off the lamp and didn’t say another word to her.

Ryujin’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe what had just taken place. How did things escalate so quickly? She just witnessed the man she despised jerk himself off to completion, and it left her extremely aroused, despite how badly she wanted to be disgusted. Her pussy was soaking wet and practically screaming at her to touch it. She tossed and turned for several minutes before ultimately losing the internal battle. Very quietly, her hand dipped into her shorts and she pressed her fingers into her aching entrance. For the second time that week, a conflicted Ryujin shamefully pleasured herself to orgasm in Junho’s bed.

—

The new routine had been established, and over the next several nights while they were together, Junho would strip completely naked and masturbate beside her. Ryujin would always act appalled, and call him out for being a pig, but she’d watch him anyway with a disapproving look. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to secretly touch herself under the blanket while he stroked one out, but she always waited until he was asleep to make herself cum. She couldn’t risk him knowing the effect he was having on her. She always came so hard after teasing herself while watching him, and privately began looking forward to her “Junho nights”, knowing the pleasure that would ensue.

One evening, as he fished his half-erect cock from his underwear, she asked him, “Do you do this every single night?”

He replied, “Honestly, only when you’re here.”

“Gross.” She scoffed.

“You’re so fucking hot, Ryujin. Just knowing you’re in my bed drives me crazy. It’s the only thing I can do to control myself,” he explained earnestly.

“Well, you’re disgusting, and you can’t have me,” she muttered, suppressing a grin. The rare compliment threw her off, and she couldn’t deny that it was flattering to know how intensely he lusted after her. It was a bit of a power trip realizing that she was off limits, yet so desirable that he had to beat off every time she was around.

Junho snickered. He knew it was just a matter of time before her will would shatter. “That’s fine. I’ll settle for my thoughts for now.”

“I can only imagine the perverted shit you conjure up in that thick skull of yours,” Ryujin said bitingly.

“Oh, I think you’d love it.”

“Try me.” Ryujin regretted the encouragement the second it left her lips. Her hidden lust had gotten the better of her.

Junho flashed a bright smile. “Well, speaking of trying you... I could, for instance, crawl between your legs right now and eat your little pussy until you were screaming for me to fuck you.”

His sudden directness spurred a small shockwave in her gut and her nipples hardened. “Pfft! You wouldn’t dare. You know this arrangement is over the minute you lay a finger on me, you ass.”

“It’s just a fantasy. Relax,” he replied calmly, still slowly stroking himself. “If that actually were to happen though... I’m positive you wouldn’t stop me.” Junho’s arrogance was making her blood boil, but her body was reacting to his dirty imagery. “Believe me though. I have a skilled tongue, and you’d be addicted to it in no time.”

“Fuck off. You are so damn full of yourself it’s sickening,” Ryujin remarked with her most disapproving expression. She could feel her pussy moistening by the second.

He noted that she hadn’t told him to stop yet. “Of course, that would just be the appetizer. Just a little warm up for the main event. Next, I would slowly kiss my way up your body until you felt this fat cock prod your slick entrance. That’s when the begging would really start...”

Ryujin’s cunt was burning now, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from attending to it. She couldn’t help a swift glance at his engorged dick, picturing its considerable size stretching her open. She became aware that she was biting her lower lip, and lashed out in embarrassment. “Begging you to leave me the fuck alone, you creep!”

“You have no clue what you’re missing. I know exactly how to please a sexy woman like you. I’d have you creaming all over my big cock the entire night. One experience with a real man like me would blow your innocent little mind. Then I’d blow my thick load deep inside of you and seal the deal...” As he finished his sentence, Junho’s cock throbbed and began launching the heaviest strands of sticky semen she had seen yet as he let out a deep, breathy moan.

Ryujin’s hand shot down to her panties, but she stopped herself, desperately trying to maintain control. She was soaking wet, and her thighs squirmed ever so slightly. If not for the blanket, he would easily be able to see how turned on she was. The sex-starved girlfriend felt her pussy drooling as she imagined all of that milky cum coating her insides. No one had ever cum inside of her before, and she wondered why the idea of it was suddenly so insanely hot. She was at a loss for words, and mindlessly said, “You’re gross.”

The look of deep conflict on Ryujin’s face was clearly apparent to Junho, who was studying her reaction carefully as his climax ran its course. “Go ahead. Ryujin. I won’t tell...”

“Shut up.” She hated him for putting her in this position, but her body wanted to give in so badly.

“Touch yourself. I know you need it,” he persisted.

“I do not.” Ryujin lied. Even as she said it, her hand was sliding back down her torso beneath the blanket. Her body was winning the battle.

Unbeknownst to her, Junho could see the subtle movements and grinned victoriously. “Don’t deny yourself. It’s natural,” he encouraged.

“Shut up.” She muttered again. Her mind was racing as her fingers dipped into her underwear and finally made contact with her aching pussy. A spark of ecstasy rippled through her instantly, her brain pleading her to continue.

Junho watched as her hardened expression shifted slightly, revealing that her determination had finally broken. “That’s it... God you look hot.”

Ryujin wanted her arrogant roommate to say more dirty things to her. She despised that this was happening, but she was too far in now as she furiously rubbed her drenched cunt. “You don’t know anything...”

“Don’t be ashamed. We’re friends here.”

“No, we’re not. Ugh. I fucking hate you...” She said through clenched teeth. The pleasure was ramping up significantly, and her eyes drifted down to Junho’s shiny member. It had deflated slightly, but was still quite engorged as it lay across his abs, surrounded with his splattered semen. “...and your stupid big cock,” she added, practically whimpering.

“I’m going to fuck you with this stupid big cock one day,” Junho stated boldly.

“Nnooghh... No you aren’t...” Ryujin couldn’t believe she was getting off to his completely inappropriate threats. She could feel a powerful orgasm brewing.

“Yes I will. You will be my personal cum slut, and you will join me in bed every single night so I can give your needy little pussy all the attention it’s been craving.”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Ryujin yelped far louder than she intended as her climax overwhelmed her. All control over her body slipped right through her fingers as her thighs clamped tightly together and she trembled on the sheets. Soft moans escaped her lips as visions of Junho sexually dominating her flashed through her mind. The intensity of her orgasm completely blindsided her, and it seemed to last minutes. As the pleasure finally waned, she opened her eyes to see her roommate’s shit eating grin.

“Well that was ridiculously sexy. Now I need to take care of this again,” he said, looking down at his revitalized erection. “Wanna help me out?”

“This never happened!” Ryujin flipped onto her side, facing away from him, and pulled the blanket tightly into her. She shut her eyes and tried to block out the shame that was taking hold of her. She had just openly pleasured herself right next to the man she supposedly loathed more than anyone else. Worse still, she had done it while he described how he was going to fuck her and make her his slut, all behind her boyfriend’s back. The situation had gotten so completely out of control that it didn’t even feel real. Maybe it was a dream, she thought. She let the hopeful idea live in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic sounds of Junho beating his meat again behind her.

The next couple of days proved to be quite awkward for Ryujin, and she avoided her roommate as much as possible. Everytime she caught a glimpse of him, she was reminded of what had transpired. The dirty, degrading things he had said to her swirled around in her head intrusively. No matter what she did to take her mind off of things, she felt insatiably horny. Her boyfriend Tae was still the opposite, and seemingly couldn’t be bothered with anything sexual.

On the next “Junho night” she was surprised when the usually boisterous man made no acknowledgment of their last session together. He still jerked off as usual, but mostly kept to himself and went to sleep without incident. She couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed, but also couldn’t allow herself to acknowledge it openly.

She half expected he would try to push the boundary further given the things he had mentioned. The sex-starved primitive part of her brain was so ready for him to assert himself, and her pussy drooled at the thought that she was ripe for the taking if he decided to have her. She was within arm’s reach, and her inability to control her urges had already been exposed by him. There was absolutely no way she was going to stoop so low as to encourage a repeat of the last time they were in bed together though. It was better this way, she told herself, sneaking a peak at his sexual display. It was weird enough how normalized his masturbation in her proximity had become, let alone her openly joining him again.

Though she convinced herself it wasn’t for him, Ryujin started wearing more revealing outfits around Junho. She’d pretend not to notice, but she enjoyed the ego boost whenever she caught him eye-balling her. She even began “accidentally” leaving his blanket off of her torso while he jerked off, so he could have a clear view of her considerable cleavage and flat tummy. She opted to remove her bra after getting into bed, rationalizing that it was just for her comfort. It was thrilling to tease him; to know that he was probably undressing her with his eyes while he pleasured himself.

She kept up the act for the most part, scoffing at him disapprovingly when he whipped out his big cock. She’d pretend to scroll on her phone while watching him in her peripheral vision and lightly teasing her pussy under the safety of the blanket. Slowly but surely, she was becoming more comfortable with the ritual and the notion that it was just a bit of harmless fun. She deserved to blow off steam given how deprived she had been lately. As long as they didn’t push it any further, she rationalized that she wasn’t technically cheating.

Things felt different in the apartment. Tae, though normally oblivious, started to pick up on the strange vibes. His girlfriend seemed to be wearing less clothing, and he thought he saw Junho checking her out a few times. The two of them seemed to be getting along a lot better, which was a pleasant change, but also slightly concerning. He noticed some kind of electricity between his roommates, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He would ask from time to time how the sleeping agreement was going, and she would always shrug it off as “No big deal”.

Tae’s anxiety was worsened by the fact that Ryujin seemed generally upset with him for not trying harder to find employment, and had basically stopped trying to initiate sex after a string of several disappointing trials. They would engage in a daily argument about him being lazy and complacent to be out of work. The disheveled boyfriend inspected himself in the mirror with a frown. It had now been several weeks since he was fired, and he had really let himself go. He’d never been as fit as his more athletic buddy, but used to at least maintain some sort of standard. He knew he had to start taking control of his life again soon, but didn’t know if he had the strength to do it, especially with the embarrassment surrounding the truth of his job loss. A truth he had not disclosed to his girlfriend, and the reason why his friend was enjoying her overnight company on a regular basis.

To prove a point, Ryujin managed to land a part-time job at a retail store. It wasn’t ideal, but would at least give her a bit of spending money before her classes started back up. The other plus was that she wasn’t stuck in the apartment all day watching her boyfriend do nothing. The responsible thing to do would have been to put the money away and save up for a new place, freeing herself from the absurd sleeping arrangement. Instead, she spent her measly income on new clothes. Her employee discount aided in her rationalizing these purchases. What started out as picking out sensible outfits for her new job quickly devolved into acquiring skimpy workout attire and sexy nightwear. She’d never had the money to spend frivolously and was enjoying the opportunity to treat herself a little.

“Don’t look over here.” Ryujin’s request escaped her lips despite an internal battle to keep the transparent, attention-seeking comment to herself. She carefully removed her day clothes to reveal a particularly risque nightie she had picked up that afternoon. It left little to the imagination, and her toned, but curvaceous figure was on full display.

“Damn, you’re asking for it you know...” Junho said, completely disregarding her plea for privacy as he fished for his manhood.

“I said DON’T look!” She reprimanded him, jumping under the covers for protection. “It’s for Tae. I just wanted to try it out and make sure it’s actually comfy. Don’t get any ideas!” Ryujin’s focus dropped to his crotch, noting that her display had made the man instantly hard.

Junho gently ran his fingers up and down the impressive length of his shaft while studying the petite woman. The blanket had already conveniently fallen from her chest, and his eyes followed the distinct curves of her succulent tits. The thin, almost transparent fabric seemed to hug them perfectly, and he yearned to see more. He decided though, that patience was key. His conservative approach had been working wonderfully, and he needed to play his current hand a little bit longer.

“Ugh. Now you’re probably thinking really inappropriate things about me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this...” Ryujin knew how obvious the act was, but her lust clouded her judgment.

“It’s pretty hot. I’m sure Tae will enjoy it,” he replied simply, still jerking off. He watched her cute nose flare ever so slightly at his unwillingness to take the bait. She can still enjoy the show, but it’s not FOR her until she submits more. He grinned arrogantly, eventually finishing himself off and unceremoniously cleaning up.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Ryujin muttered, turning away from him. The young girlfriend fell asleep more frustrated and unsatisfied than ever.

—

The following night, Junho returned home with an assortment of alcohol and insisted the group play drinking games together. They started with a simple card game, and within an hour each of them was feeling the effects of the potent liquid. The trio erupted in surprise and laughter as Tae flipped the final card, indicating that he would have to drink from the large glass they had been contributing to throughout the game. The intoxicated boyfriend winced as he tipped the foul mixture into his mouth, his roommates cheering him on. He managed to chug the entirety of it, gaining an applause from the group as he triumphantly slammed the glass to the table. His clumsy act caused Ryujin’s drink to fall over, splashing her clothes with the sugary substance.

She shrieked and jumped up from her chair while Tae stumbled to the kitchen for a towel. Without thinking it through, she hurriedly pulled off her top and shorts right there in the living room. Junho’s eyebrows shot up as he drank in the sight of his sexy roommate, suddenly in nothing but an exquisite set of lacy, black underwear. She patted the material all over, checking that it was dry.

“Woah-What’re you doing!?” Tae stammered as he realized his girlfriend had become half naked in front of their roommate.

“What? I- I didn’t want my new underwear to get stained!” The woman was clearly intoxicated and uninhibited. She shot Junho a glance, momentarily grasping the fact that she was exposed, and the hunger in his expression sent a tingling sensation from her nipples to her pussy.

“Well okay, but - shouldn’t you cover up now?” He suggested nervously.

“I dunno... It feels kind of nice! Don’t I look good?” She asked her boyfriend playfully. She was experiencing quite a thrill from showing off her body.

“Yeah, you look great, but...” Tae looked over at Junho, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I don’t mind.” The roommate stated, raising his hands in a half shrug. “If she feels comfortable, then go for it, right?”

“I guess so...” Tae slinked back into his chair, feeling defeated, and a little too drunk to form a cohesive argument.

“Thanks, babe!” Ryujin giggled and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. “So, what’s next?” She asked the group proudly, standing tall with her hands on her hips.

“Drink and drive?” Junho suggested. The group agreed, and filled up their drinks before taking a spot on the shared couch, the barely-clothed woman sitting between the two men, much to Tae’s dismay. The three buzzed roommates enjoyed a few rounds of competitive video game racing, while downing more drinks throughout.

The furniture was plenty large enough to accommodate all of them, yet Ryujin found herself sandwiched tightly between the much larger men. She didn’t complain though, secretly enjoying the warmth of Junho’s bare thigh against hers. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she privately compared the two males on either side of her. One was tanned and muscled, the other pale and flabby. As more drinks filled her belly, she loosed up further, shoving her body into her roommate’s flirtatiously whenever the events of the game called for it. He even squeezed her smooth thighs a few times, which only increased her arousal.

Junho was rock hard for the entirety of the game, stealing several lengthy glances down Ryujin’s bra while the others were too immersed to notice. He had to have her, and his cock ached for release as he enjoyed the sensation of her luscious legs against his.

Eventually, the trio decided it was time to hit the sack. Ryujin, stumbling slightly, followed her tall roommate to his room, leaning on him for stability.

“Babe...” Tae whined, looking at her accusingly. “It’s an us night. You’re going the wrong way...” He had already witnessed the pair flirting pretty consistently throughout the evening, and seeing his girl’s hand wrapped around his friend’s large bicep filled him with jealousy.

“Oh! Are you sure?” She asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Yeah... You slept in there last night, remember?” He was right, and she shamefully let go of the muscled arm.

“My bad... I guess I’m a little more tipsy than I thought...” She couldn’t show it, but the young girlfriend was disappointed. She was intensely horny, and had been looking forward to her routine of playing with her pussy while pretending to be disinterested in Junho’s big cock. She knew Tae wouldn’t be up for anything sexual.

“Hang on. How about one more race?” Junho asked mischievously, staring his friend down. He’d hoped the boyfriend had become too drunk to notice the mistake, and now had to think on his feet. Tae simply shook his head, knowing where this was going. The confident man added, “If I win, I get a bonus Ryujin night tonight; but If I lose, we change the arrangement to only once per week instead of three, permanently.” His offer hung in the air for several seconds while the room contemplated.

“What’s the point even? It’s not like you get to - to...” Tae couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, but the implication was understood. He tried to shake away the painful thought of the man taking advantage of his girlfriend.

“I know dude. It’s not about that,” Junho said reassuringly.

“It’s just one last silly bet to end the night on. I want to feel like I won a prize, you know?”

“I dunno...” Tae muttered sheepishly, looking towards Ryujin to gauge her reaction. She just stood there silently, waiting to see how it would play out. His mind was a swirling mix of conflicting thoughts. He should just outright refuse, but if he won, then he would have a lot more of her to himself. He did feel he was the better gamer, and the alcohol gave him just enough confidence to weakly agree. “Fine... let’s do it.”

Ryujin’s heart lept in her chest as the events unfolded in front of her. She felt objectified; a bargaining chip to be turned over to the victor. It reminded her of the origin of the agreement that now felt like it happened so long ago. Things were different now, and instead of feeling disgusted, she found the whole ordeal to be an incredible turn on. She stood there in her skimpy underwear, waiting with great anticipation for the two males to decide who got to claim her for the night. She secretly hoped it would be her big dicked roommate.

The race was on, both men focusing intently on the screen and clutching their controllers tightly. It was anyone’s game, as they both traded the first place position several times while the finish line drew nearer.

“You got this babe!” Ryujin cheered for her boyfriend, her barely contained breasts jiggling in their lacy enclosure as she bounced with excitement. Tae pulled ahead, looking like he was set to win, when one of his girlfriend’s tits popped out, greeting the room in its full fleshy glory. “Oops!” She laughed.

Her exposed chest caught Tae’s eye, and he shot her a look of disgust. “Ryujin!? What the fuck?” The momentary distraction was enough for him to take the final turn a little too widely, and Junho took the lead. “No, no, no!” He smashed his buttons in a futile attempt to make up the distance, but the race was lost.

“Woo!” Ryujin exclaimed, accidentally letting her joy at the result slip off of her tongue. She met eyes with her fuming boyfriend and tucked her breast back into the bra. “Awww, babe! I’m sorry!”

“What the fuck was that!?” Tae screamed at her, slamming his controller onto the table.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear, it just got loose while I was cheering you on!”

“Well that’s not fair! Another race!” He demanded, his face beet red.

“Sorry bro, a deal’s a deal. Accidents happen,” Junho said calmly standing from his seat.

“But...” Tae looked at his almost nude girlfriend in disbelief, her small frame eclipsed by his large roommate who approached her. She simply shrugged.

“You did really well! Sorry I accidentally distracted you...” While she was telling the truth about the wardrobe malfunction, she put on an act to mirror his disappointment, pouting as she walked over and gave him a peck on the lips. “See you tomorrow, babe. Goodnight.” Tae slumped into the couch, his head spinning as he watched the beauty disappear behind Junho’s door.

Ryujin wasn’t sure what to expect as she sat on her side of the bed, resting her back against the cool, cushioned headboard. The first thing she noticed was that her sleeping mate had gotten into bed with his boxers still on, and was idly tapping at his phone. She lay there for several minutes wondering when he would inevitably start the stroking session, but he didn’t. She hated herself for letting it bother her, yet couldn’t help but ask about it.

“Wow, no self-service tonight, huh?”

Junho replied, “Sorry to disappoint. I guess your body all covered up and hidden isn’t doing it for me anymore.” He was determined to make her work for it, and focused his thoughts on anything other than the sexy body next to him to maintain self control.

“What is your imagination broken or something?” She teased, glancing at the flaccid bulge in his underwear. She felt an urge to do something to awaken it. It was almost as if his lack of an erection was a personal insult to her. After no response from him, she made a transparent excuse.

“Eh... Well it’s a pretty hot night anyway...” She pulled the rest of the blanket off of her, revealing her long, smooth legs and adjusting her bra to push up her swelling chest as much as possible.

They both feigned an interest in their phones, while secretly stealing glances at each other. Ryujin noticed his crotch had swelled a bit, and commented on his half-boner. “Hm. I guess something is doing it for you now...” She said slyly.

“Maybe a little,” he responded casually. The man knew she was bothered by his lack of interest, and it was a joy to watch her squirm.

Ryujin’s annoyance hit a tipping point, and she rose to her knees, facing him. “Oh, so all of a sudden I’m just not hot enough huh?” As soon as the words left her lips she felt the sting of embarrassment.

Junho looked at her smugly. “You’re pretty hot, it’s just I’ve seen it all before, ya know?”

Ryujin subconsciously tugged her bra down a little further. “I’m already showing so much! Don’t you like this little number? I can’t believe it’s all I’ve been wearing all night.”

“Mhmm...”

“I think you’re just trying to get me naked...” Ryujin added.

Junho said nothing, but stared at her chest intently. It was now a game of chicken, and Ryujin was fully invested in the challenge of making him hard by the mere sight of her.

She slowly pulled her lacy bra further and further down her chest, and as more of her soft, perky tits were revealed, his cock grew in size. Finally, as the material had stretched as far as it could go, she reached in and scooped her breasts out of their prison, and they stood proudly out in the open.

Quite pleased with herself, she looked at his fully enlarged bulge, which was straining against the fabric of his boxers. “I guess you couldn’t help yourself,” she said victoriously. “Aren’t you gonna play with it?”

“I’d really prefer if you did,” Junho replied. Her tits looked better than he could’ve imagined, but he had to hold back just a little longer if he was going to ensure access.

“Well... That’s against the rules,” she argued.

“So was rubbing your pussy,” he said.

“No, that was different...” She was losing steam.

“Uh huh... Why are you so horny for my cock, Ryujin?”

“I’m not...” She could hardly believe her own actions. Here she was, in nothing but a thong, trying to tease her roommate into jerking off in front of her. It was beyond ridiculous, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t have the strength to stop herself.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off of it. And your nipples are hard,” he argued. Fighting the compulsion to attack her alluring chest mouth-first.

Ryujin blushed and deflected, “Doesn’t it hurt? Constrained all tightly like that?”

“As a matter of fact, it is very uncomfortable. Now help me out.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased.

“So would you,” Junho said as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. He slowly guided her to his crotch and rested her on his bulge. He lightly stroked himself using her fingers, and looked at her to gauge her reaction. She said nothing, and remained fixated on what he was doing. He then moved her fingers to his waistband and left them there.

“All you have to do is pull this down and it will be freed.”

“...I... Can’t-”

“Do it...”

Despite her better judgment, Ryujin tugged at his boxers and his thick, swollen cock sprang out, waving back and forth a few times before settling into its straight, rigid position. Junho took her hand again and wrapped her fingers around the shaft. It was radiating heat, and looked even bigger up close in her small hand. She unknowingly held her breath as she eased her fingers up and down the impressive length. It was so much larger than Tae’s, and she felt mesmerized by it. It was as if she was carefully examining some otherworldly object.

“Mmm... You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this...” Junho cooed, snapping her out of her daze and fully removing his underwear.

“Well don’t get used to it. This is a one time thing,” she muttered in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control.

Ryujin had a feeling she would never live up to those words as she squeezed his hardness. She made herself more comfortable, laying on her side and propping herself up on her free elbow. Her face was just inches from his bare chest as she worked her hand along his meaty shaft.

“I’m just curious, that’s all...” She murmured distractedly, admiring the weight of him in her grip. She traced the tip of the head down to the base with her finger tips, and cupped her balls in her palm. They seemed so heavy and full, which made perfect sense to her given the sheer volume of semen he would always unleash.

Junho’s idle hands also began wandering, and he softly ran his fingers through her hair. While whispering words of encouragement to her, he slowly stroked her down the length of her back, grinning upon noticing goosebumps forming on her shoulders. He traced lines up and down her spine, barely making contact and causing her to shiver with delight. He could hardly believe it was actually happening. His best friend’s girl, whom he’d wanted to fuck since the moment he met her, was willingly caressing his cock. The fact that she had always been so standoffish and rude to him made the moment all the sweeter.

Ryujin was so consumed with studying his manhood that she barely noticed when Junho started touching her. It wasn’t until he made contact with her plump ass cheek that she paused.

“Hey... stop that,” she said weakly.

“Oh, be quiet,” he responded light-heartedly, reciprocating her unconvincing protest.

She began pumping his cock, allowing him to squeeze her ass, which was all the encouragement he needed to take it further. He rested his palm on her shoulder and pushed her down into the bed so that she was flat on her back beside him. He then shifted down to her level and placed his muscular arm on her abdomen, holding her in place as well as giving him access to her lower half.

“What are you doing!?” Ryujin cried out with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She grabbed his thick forearm with both hands to try and stop the inevitable, but he was already testing the wetness of her thong.

“Junho, stop,” Ryujin said urgently, trying to sound like she meant it.

“Make me,” he replied as he slid his fingers under the damp fabric and touched her dripping pussy for the first time.

Ryujin squirmed as he caressed her most sensitive area. It felt like her last line of defense was being bombarded; the private part of her, reserved for her boyfriend, under assault. The pleasure hit her immediately though, and after hopelessly struggling under his strength for a short while, she began to give in to it.

“Nnghh... Please!” She wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for anymore, whether it be to stop or continue.

“We both know you need this,” he said with authority as he dipped two fingers into her and started hooking them back and forth. His elbow dug into her chest as she struggled against him, his digits fully penetrating her. With his other hand, he grabbed her soft tit and squeezed. He switched between mauling the flesh of her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples, all while firmly stimulating her g spot.

Ryujin moaned openly as Junho continued to grope and finger her. His strong hands were doing things to her that she couldn’t possibly achieve on her own. She was completely overwhelmed. The loud squishing sound from her pussy almost seemed to sing of her body’s consent as he dug into it. She could scream for her boyfriend, but her brain wouldn’t allow it. The pleasure was too great, and her intense craving for it had gone on too long. There was nothing she could do but lay there and take it.

“Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a cunt this wet. You must be loving this,” Junho muttered.

He was right. She could feel her juices gushing like never before, as if her body instinctively knew how to prepare for an encounter with such a dominant, masculine partner. A movement in the corner of her eye reminded her of his monstrous cock, and without thinking she reached out to take it. She pumped it hard in her closed fist, mirroring the intensity he was unleashing on her sex. She was suddenly overcome with the desire to make him cum; to witness his incredible manhood explode by her own hand.

“Ugh, just like that baby,” Junho cooed, elated that she had warmed up enough to reciprocate. He was determined to orgasm along with her, and ride the high together. The sight of her naked form sprawled out in front of him was enough to do the trick. She was absolutely beautiful. Delicate and elegant, yet oozing raw sexuality, especially in her current state. She was built for this, and he already couldn’t wait to have more of her.

The duo were wrapped up in a dense cloud of sexual intensity, jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed while they vigorously worked to get each other off. So many tense nights had led up to this moment, and the barriers that had been keeping them tame were crashing down all around them. Junho leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, his rough jaw making contact with her delicate chin.

Ryujin opened her mouth immediately and accepted his passion, their tongues clashing near the peak of their lust. It felt even more wrong somehow to accept the intimate kiss, but it felt so incredibly good and fueled her desire for his masculine dominance to even greater heights. She allowed him to taste her completely, moaning into the strong kiss with unbridled pleasure.

“Oh my god... ngh fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna - NGH - CUM!” Ryujin felt a powerful force rising in her, like an overinflated balloon that was about to burst. And then it did. Her jaw fell wide open, and her thighs squeezed inwards, trapping Junho’s hand like a vice. Sharp jolts of ecstasy pulsed from her depths, igniting every nerve in her body. Time seemed to stop as she was thrashed again and again. The thick fingers inside of her did not skip a beat, and each purposeful movement seemed to directly stroke the pleasure center of her brain.

Ryujin felt a wetness grace the back of her hand, and opened her eyes just in time to see Junho’s throbbing member erupting. Thick, sticky seed blasted into the air and coated every inch of her closed fist. As her climax shook her body, her unsteady grip on him caused quite the mess. His vigorous load was flung in every direction, splattering both of them and the sheets. As the potent pleasure boiling within them cooled to a simmer, they couldn’t help but share a tension-cutting laugh. There was cum everywhere.

“Holy fuck...” Junho murmured. “That was so damn hot.”

Ryujin felt like she was floating on a cloud, and closed her eyes to savor the moment. “Yeah...” She uttered the simple agreement with a long drawn out breath. She hadn’t felt such immense satisfaction in a long time, and allowed herself a peaceful moment to soak it in as the many drops of semen trickled down her skin. Her brand new underwear had gotten completely soiled, but she couldn’t care less in that blissful moment.

The pair managed to eventually clean themselves up and remove the soiled sheets. As Ryujin settled into her spot on the bed, the positive feelings that had dominated her consciousness were giving way to feelings of guilt and shame. She and Junho had officially gone too far, and she wrestled with the thought in silence before finally falling asleep.

Ryujin kept herself busy the next day, even opting to pick up an extra shift at work. The knowledge that she had cheated on her boyfriend weighed heavily on her mind, but she also felt a flash of excitement any time she recalled the event. The steamy encounter with her roommate made her already intense appetite even harder to ignore, and she had to fight the urge to duck into a dressing room to get herself off.

She even managed to mount Tae that night, desperate for cock, and perhaps eager to soothe her conscience by enjoying some intimate time that wasn’t “off limits”. The troubled young man was more eager than he had been in a while, fueled by his jealousy from the previous night. After riding him for a short time, Ryujin gasped as he took control and flipped her onto her back, fucking her with the anger he had felt after losing her to Junho. While he did manage to build a nice rhythm, he couldn’t last more than a minute, and she was left unsatisfied.

“That felt so good,” he said, breathing heavily and studying her reaction.

“Yeah...” She lied, noting how incredibly miniscule his load was inside the spent condom compared to the voluminous fountain that had splashed her the previous evening. Her boyfriend had always been enough for her before, but things were different now. She felt a pit in her stomach knowing that things would likely not go back to how they were between them.

“I’m sorry for getting so upset last night. I just... really, really didn’t want to lose that bet...” Tae muttered, his head hanging downwards.

“It’s okay, babe. Believe me, I know how it feels for Junho to get under your skin.”

“He’s such an ass sometimes. Did you - um - you wore that lingerie to bed with him?” He asked nervously.

“I... did...” Ryujin confessed slowly. “But I just got under the covers and went right to sleep. It’s not like I wore them for him or anything,” she added, knowing full well that the two-piece was in fact at the bottom of the laundry basket, speckled with their roommate’s dry cum. The comment seemed to comfort her boyfriend slightly.

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I can get over it. As long as he doesn’t get the wrong idea.” Tae still wasn’t crazy about his friend getting an eye-full of his girlfriend’s exposed body, but decided not to push the issue further. “I know that you’re just doing all of this to help us survive... And I know I need to step it up. I’ve been a real slob,” the boyfriend admitted.

“Thanks for owning up to it. I believe in you. You just gotta get back out there,” she encouraged.

“You’re right, and I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Though their relationship had deteriorated recently, Ryujin still had feelings for Tae. He had been her first serious partner and they had lost their virginities together. The struggles of late had done damage, but there was still something there. Despite her actions, she still wanted the best for him, and wrestled with the thought that it might be best to just come clean about how things between her and Junho had gotten out of hand. If only she could think straight. The thrill of discovering this new, sexual side of herself, and the twisted pleasure that came with it was overwhelming her sensibilities.

Ryujin dreamed vividly that night. She was in Junho’s bed, but the room looked different for some reason. He was there, stroking his huge dick as usual, and he suddenly reached out and ripped the blanket off of her. She was fully naked, with her fingers in her pussy, frozen like a deer in headlights. “I knew it!” He shouted, and scrambled on top of her. He slapped her creamy folds with his hard manhood and then firmly thrust into her. Ryujin was paralyzed and lay there helplessly while he had his way with her. It felt fucking incredible. She moaned loudly in pleasure, captivated by the animalistic, sex-crazed expression on his face. Then his face morphed into Tae’s.

“Babe? Babe? Ryujin!”

Her eyes snapped open and she found that she was in her own room. Her boyfriend was gently shaking her. “You were moaning in your sleep. I figured you were having a nightmare or something,” he said worriedly.

“Oh... Yeah... A nightmare,” she lied. She immediately noticed that her underwear were drenched. She’d experienced the first of many sexual dreams involving her roommate that night, and waited for Tae to fall asleep to quell the overwhelming urge between her legs.

—

The new routine had been established, and although she would earnestly try each and every time to keep to herself, Ryujin would inevitably end up with her hands wrapped around Junho’s hard cock while his fingers assaulted her cunt.

“Not tonight,” she’d say, turning her back to him as if to go straight to sleep like the faithful girlfriend she was supposed to be. She knew full well he wasn’t going to take “No” for an answer though, and secretly craved his attempts to convince her.

“Oh, playing games again tonight, are we?” He teased. “As if your little pussy isn’t soaking wet in there, waiting to be manhandled.”

She squirmed her thighs together, his words having an effect.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The swoosh of his boxers being removed could be heard.

“Come play with your new favorite toy a little.”

“You’ve got two hands. Use ‘em,” Ryujin teased back.

“If you insist,” he chuckled, scooting towards her and reaching under the blanket.

“No! You know what I meant!”

She squealed as his large hands roamed over her exposed skin. Ryujin always knew the battle was lost the minute he started touching her. Something about the way he manipulated her with his powerful fingers drove her crazy. Before she could get another word in, his toned arm was around her narrow waist, pulling her into him. Now wrapped in his strong embrace, the dainty woman was powerless to resist. She let out an involuntary moan as he firmly pulled her thong to the side and rubbed her slippery clit.

“Why do you always have to put up a fight?” He growled into her ear.

“Ngghh! Because you’re a stupid creep! I’m - Uhnn - not bad like you!” She could hardly get the words out as he finger fucked her, her lower half vibrating with the intensity of his actions. Ryujin squirmed against the large frame of her roommate, his hard cock at full attention and slapping against her quivering thigh.

“You’re a horny little slut, and you know it,” he muttered hoarsely, nibbling her ear. “Why else would your cunt be this fucking wet for me?”

Ryujin wanted to tell him that she despised him, but instead her mouth fell open in silence as she came all over Junho’s invasive fingers. After twitching in pleasure for an imperceptible length of time, she finally drew a breath and let out a girlish whimper of satisfaction. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly he could bring her to orgasm.

“My turn, slut.” He commanded, and watched as his best friend’s girlfriend obediently took his big cock in both hands and got to work.

“Stop calling me that. I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me alone and go to sleep.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm!”

“So it has nothing to do with your secret infatuation with me?” Junho loved to press her buttons while she serviced him.

“Pffft. You wish. This is purely transactional,” she shot back, matter-of-factly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sexy. Ahh... that’s nice. Can you get it wet for me though?”

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Where’s your lotion?”

“I’m fresh out.”

“Ugh. If it will make this go faster.” She leaned over and drooled a large strand of saliva to coat his shaft before pumping his length diligently with a renewed effort.

“Hooohh... Fuck yeah, just like that.” he encouraged. His roommate was using both hands in unison, fervently stimulating him with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

“Why are you always so damn hard?” She asked, genuinely curious about his libido which was foreign to her.

“Because I’m a fucking alpha,” he laughed as she scoffed at his cliché arrogance. “I don’t know... I’ve always had this massive sex drive. Kinda seems like yours isn’t too far off.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Ryujin argued.

“I think you’re wrong. Two peas in a pod, lady,” he joked as he playfully grabbed at her bra-clad tits.

She couldn’t hold back a brief smile as she flinched, protesting, “Hey, stop!” She squeezed his cock in retaliation, before spitting on it to reapply her lubrication.

“What about Tae? Something tells me he’s not... Keeping up with your needs?”

Ryujin could feel her cheeks blushing. “What? No. No, he’s - It’s fine.”

Junho raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well that sounds... Fine,” he teased.

“Whatever. Okay, let’s see that big alpha load already. My arms are getting tired,” she said sarcastically, jerking his big dick enthusiastically.

“Anything for my hot little cumslut,” he muttered.

Before long, the roomate was grunting with delight as he spurted his fat load into the air, much of the sticky substance covering Ryujin’s slick fingers and slender forearms.

“God damn, baby... You’re getting really good at that...” He cooed.

“You’re disgusting...” She said, suppressing a grin as she messily wiped her slimy hands off onto his thigh. Without even fully cleaning up, she nestled into her spot on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

—

Junho was growing bolder, knowing the shift that was occurring within Ryujin after several nights of giving in to his advances. While cleaning up some dishes in the kitchen after dinner, he noticed her slip behind him to get something out of the cupboard. He glanced back and observed her stretching for a glass on the top shelf. She was already in her night wear: the usual flimsy camisole and skin-tight short shorts. Her toned midriff was exposed as she reached for the receptacle. Junho noted that Tae was focused on his video game with his back turned to them, and silently closed the gap between him and the alluring woman. He pressed into her back and gently held her against him with a hand on her hip.

“Let me get that for you,” he said casually, easily reaching over her and grabbing the glass.

“Hey!” Ryujin whispered harshly, caught off guard and suddenly trapped between the counter and the large frame behind her. “What the hell are you doing!?” She squirmed against him and could feel his hardness poking against the small of her back.

Junho ignored her question, and smelled her hair, firmly holding her still. “God you smell good. Are you excited to cum all over my fingers again tonight?” He murmured softly into her ear, one hand inching down towards her mound. His cock inflated rapidly as he imagined her writhing in pleasure on his bed again.

“Stop! Seriously! You’re gonna-”

“Make you too wet before you say goodnight to Tae?” He interrupted, teasing her verbally as well as with his fingers, which were now pressing against her clit and ever so slightly drawing circles.

“No! Ngh... Junho, please stop... He’s gonna see us...” She pleaded as quietly as she could. Even over her shorts, his firm touch was starting to feel good. She didn’t have the strength to escape his powerful hold and a sense of helplessness washed over her. Her legs started to weaken as her pussy responded to his aggression, growing juicier by the second. Junho’s free hand had traveled up her torso and was lightly grazing her nipples, which were stiff and sensitive.

She knew there was nothing she could do short of calling to her boyfriend for help, but she couldn’t do that. What if he discovered how much their brutish roommate’s groping was turning her on, she thought. Ryujin cursed her body for once again betraying her and giving into the man’s forceful assault. Instead of insisting that he stop, she was becoming jello in his arms, silently accepting that he was going to do what he wanted to her.

“I’m so fucking hard right now... Maybe I should just fuck you right here,” Junho threatened through clenched teeth.

As she lost the battle for control over her body, her mind began to slip as well. She imagined the muscular jerk tugging her shorts down, and thrusting his huge cock into her warm, welcoming cunt. Surely he wouldn’t go that far, she thought. He wouldn’t take the last bit of her innocence then and there in the kitchen and fuck her needy pussy right behind her boyfriend. The vision was beyond tantalizing, and her dripping sex ached for more.

Ryujin surrendered to his dominant touch, and just as she felt an orgasm building, Junho released his grip and shuffled back to the sink. His dismount was so jarring that she nearly groaned in frustration at the instantaneous loss of pleasure. She desperately needed that climax, and could think of nothing else.

“Asshole,” she muttered as she stomped past him, heading straight for his bedroom.

“I just got insanely tired... Goodnight, babe,” she announced to Tae, pausing in the doorway for a brief moment to shoot a stern, suggestive look at Junho. The roommate grinned at her mischievously and tucked his erection into his waistband before following her into the room.

“Night...” Tae answered nonchalantly, too engrossed in his game to notice the oddness of what had just occurred. Had he been more observant, he might have perceived his girlfriend’s earlier than usual departure, her flush red cheeks, or the fact that she’d left an unused glass on the kitchen counter.

Junho closed the door behind him to find that Ryujin was already naked from the waist down and had jumped into his bed. Her pussy was out in the open and glistening with her juices. It was the first time he had actually laid eyes on it, and he wasn’t surprised to find that it appeared pristine. His cock swelled with anticipation as he drank in the sight of her unprotected delicate pinkness.

“Are you gonna finish what you started you fucking perv?” She taunted him while lightly teasing herself.

She was still right on the brink of an orgasm, and her inhibitions had melted completely. Ryujin could’ve easily just finished the job herself, but she craved what she knew would be a far more potent explosion if Junho dug his strong fingers into her. She longed for him to hold her down and force it out of her. She was discovering that the loss of control when he dominated her was a major turn on.

Her expectations were subverted as he swiftly moved between her parted legs and dove face-first into her tender folds. She opened her mouth to oppose his daring action, but her voice got stuck in her throat as his strong tongue graced her sensitive cunt. Her hands reflexively shot out and grasped his hair, holding on for what she knew would be a wild ride. The handsome man worked his tongue expertly, stroking the full length of her pussy with firm, steady licks. She had to stop herself from moaning too loudly, remembering her boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall.

Junho kept her right on the edge, pausing every so often to catch his breath and plant kisses right on her swollen clit. His alluring roommate tasted better than he could’ve imagined. The sweet and tangy flavor was intoxicating and caused all of his blood to rush to his cock. He tested her carefully, paying attention to how her body reacted to his work. Stiffening his tongue, he prodded and teased her entrance, which felt incredibly tight. No doubt, it would feel amazing wrapped around his dick. He wasn’t sure he would be able to prevent himself from penetrating her any longer. The urge was ramping up with each passing second; his instincts becoming harder to ignore.

“Pleeease!” Ryujin whispered in desperation. She was right on the cusp of a big one, but her roommate wouldn’t let her have it. He had her firmly pinned down, legs spread wide as he carefully teased her gushing pussy. When she felt she was one lick away from cumming, he would shift his focus, kissing and gently biting a path away from her aching sex. He was clearly toying with her, and taking the opportunity to sample every inch of her exposed lower half.

Junho couldn’t help but grin as he feasted on the begging girlfriend. Her cute, wanting pleas for more were music to his ears. He took his time, lightly dragging his teeth along her flawless, taut skin whenever he needed her to cool down. “Mmmm... Tastes so good... You like how I tease your cheating little pussy, baby?”

Ryujin groaned in frustration as his hot breath tickled her throbbing clit. “Ugggh... I need to cum soooo badly...”

He prodded her once, flattening his tongue and quickly withdrawing it. “Like this?”

“Yesssss! Oh my god... Why are you doing this to me?” She wanted to scream at him, but knew it was too risky. She hoped the T.V. in the next room was loud enough to cover up her whimpers.

“Because you’re a naughty cheating girlfriend, and you need to be taught a lesson.”

“Ngggh!” She thrust her hips in an attempt to get the last bit of stimulation she needed, but he stopped her just in time, pressing her down into the bed more firmly.

“You resisted me, so now you have to wait until I think you deserve to cum.”

“Fuck, Junho...”

“Well? Do you deserve it?”

“Mhmm! Please!”

“I don’t know about that...” Junho flashed his teeth mischievously and bit the bony peak of her hip.

“Ahhh! Just give it to me! I Deserve it!”

“You’ll be a good cheating slut from now on?”

She hated him more than ever for forcing her to say such submissive things, but she was well beyond the point of having enough resistance left for mere words. “I’ll be good!”

“A good what?”

“A good - Ngh - cheating s-slut!” Ryujin couldn’t stay silent anymore. The long build up was about to hit the breaking point. “Ohhh... Oh fuuuck yesss... Oh my god... I’m about to-Ahh!” She gasped sharply as Junho abruptly stopped stimulating her.

“I’ll make you cum, slut, but I’m going to fuck you after,” he stated, still inches from her soaking pussy.

“Nooo. No, we can’t. Ugh! Pleeeease!” The frustrated woman bucked her hips and pulled at his hair, desperate for release. “Fucking pleeease make me cum,” she continued, her orgasm simmering just below the surface. She needed it more than anything, but had just enough sense left to stop him from taking her fully.

“Anything but that-Oh!”

He stoked the fire with another quick lash of his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to finish her off. Ryujin’s hands left his head and moved to her burning sex, but he deftly caught them with his own, pinning her arms down on either side of her.

“Beg me to fuck you...” He persisted.

“That’s too far! Please, anything else!”

Her mind was racing, searching for a way to convince the withholding jerk.

“I’ll suck your cock! Please! Make me cum and I’ll suck you off!” She blurted out the offer, which she hastily rationalized was a fair trade given the current predicament, though she wasn’t sure where the idea came from.

“Deal,” Junho agreed simply, dipping his face back down to resume his feast. He wasn’t hell-bent on rushing sex with her that night, and was elated to hear her depraved suggestion to service him with her hot little mouth. He released one of her wrists and drove two fingers into her cunt while tonguing her clit like a feral beast.

Immediately, Ryujin’s tight hole constricted and her back arched as her long awaited climax finally popped.

“Ohhhfffuuuuck!”

She cried out in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into Junho’s skull as she clenched him tightly between her thighs. The pleasure-filled girlfriend grinded her pussy against her roommate’s face for what felt like the lengthiest, most intense orgasm of her life, with no regard for the fact that a thin wall was all that separated her unfaithful act from her clueless boyfriend.

When she could finally muster the control to open her eyes, she was greeted by her roommate’s manly visage. His chiseled jaw was slick with her juices and his eyes glowed with a predatory flare that sent a shiver down her spine. She watched as he rose to his knees and peeled off his underwear, allowing his massive cock to spring into view. It dawned on her what she had agreed to moments prior, and she didn’t bother putting up a fight. She was about to have that fat piece of masculine meat in her mouth, and she was secretly thrilled about it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ryujin nearly leapt into the air like a startled cat upon hearing the sharp knocks on Junho’s bedroom door.

“Babe?” Tae asked from just outside.

She was frozen in indecision. Maybe he would just assume she was asleep and go away, she thought.

“I know you’re awake. I heard noises a minute ago.”

“Uh-Just a sec!” Ryujin scrambled off of the bed and looked around frantically for her shorts. Her heart was racing as she tried to brace herself for what would surely be a messy confrontation. He had heard her. It was all over. She had really fucked up this time. She tugged her shorts up and took a deep breath, noting that Junho had gotten under the covers and was in his usual sleeping position. She slowly opened the door, her face red-hot with shame, and met Tae’s suspicious gaze.

“You left your phone out here,” he muttered, presenting the device to her.

“Oh... Oops! T-thank you,” she stammered nervously.

“Are you okay?” He reached out and tested her forehead with his palm. “Oh my God. You’re burning up!”

“I am?” Ryujin couldn’t think straight in her panic. “I mean yeah... Now that you mention it-I don’t feel right. Maybe that’s why I was so tired...” She was suddenly hyper aware of the light sweat on her forehead and the slickness of Junho’s saliva between her thighs.

“Well it didn’t sound like you were sleeping...” Tae leaned over to get a peek into the dimly lit bedroom. His roommate appeared to be asleep.

“You just woke me up. Maybe I was talking in my sleep or something?” It was a poor excuse at best, but she crossed her fingers and silently prayed that he would let it go.

“That’s weird... Well if you’re sick you should really get some good rest in your own bed, don’t you think?” He asked, gently rubbing her arm.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right...”

She was more than a little disappointed, but given how fortunate she was to have not been caught, there was no sense in arguing the point. She followed her boyfriend back to their room, and fell asleep to the thought that she had somehow gotten herself into a situation where she now owed her arrogant roommate a blowjob.

Ryujin stirred the next morning to a rustling in her bed. She felt a weight on top of her and opened her heavy eyelids to find Junho’s massive cock staring back at her. She attempted to scoot up and away from him, only to discover that her torso and arms were pinned to the mattress beneath the heavy intruder.

“What the-You can’t be in here!” The young woman was trapped, her eyes darting around the space to confirm that this was indeed the room she shared with her boyfriend.

“I’ve been rock hard since you abandoned me last night. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Junho responded, clearly enjoying her helpless squirming.

“B-but Tae-”

“Shhh... He left to get you medicine, since you’re sooo sick...” He teased sarcastically, gently prodding her plump lips with his enlarged tip. “Time to pay your dues. You better make me cum before he gets back, or I’ll consider it a violation of the deal.”

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow night? This is too risky...” Ryujin tried to reason with the aggressor, but she could already feel herself becoming wet with anticipation. She knew he was going to take what he wanted from her, and couldn’t deny how much that turned her on. The warm, musky meat against her face was demanding her attention, and her mind flickered back to the potent orgasm its owner had brought her to the previous night. Maybe if she was proficient enough to satisfy him quickly, there would be enough time for him to work his magic on her again, she hoped. The pinned girlfriend’s tongue protruded from her lips, and made contact with her roommate’s cock head.

Junho couldn’t help but moan in relief as her wet tongue graced his needy manhood. Another invisible barrier was crumbling around them as his best friend’s girl willingly tasted his hard dick for the first time. She looked adorable, hyper-focused on exploring the ridged surface with little licks here and there. He had the urge to just jam himself into her mouth and fuck her face to completion, but held back in favor of the tortuous but enticing teasing she was putting him through.

“God damn, Ryujin...” He muttered in ecstasy.

She flashed her teeth briefly, flattered by his infatuation, and slowly parted her lips around his velvety skin. Without missing a beat, her roommate began easing his way into her welcoming mouth. As her wet warmth enveloped him inch by inch, her eyes followed the length of his chiseled torso upwards until she met his gaze. As their pupils locked, she felt his thick cock twitch against her tongue, and another deep moan escaped him. His expression of intense desire and hunger made her pussy ache. “Mmmm...” She cooed involuntarily; her mouth now completely full.

Junho began softly thrusting his hips back and forth, aiding Ryujin’s efforts as she repeatedly lifted her head to stimulate him. She had little leverage from her current position, but worked his sensitive organ with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She wanted to do a good job for him; to surprise him with how skilled she could be. He’d been responsible for giving her multiple mind-blowing climaxes, and it felt right to return the favor.

As if he could read her mind, he murmured, “Fuck yes... Ahh, you’re being such a good little cocksucker for me...”

She squirmed beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as a sting of desire accompanied his words. Is that what I am now, she thought, his little cocksucker? She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that the whole situation was immensely hot, and that she wanted more.

Junho detected the lust and submission in her eyes, which encouraged him. “Mmm... Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be the sexy little slut you’re meant to be?”

Ryujin had never felt so degraded, and though she didn’t want him to stop, she couldn’t allow him to think she had fully given up all control.

“I’m not a slut, you ass. You’re making me do this,” she said defiantly before allowing him to stuff her mouth again.

“And you’re loving it,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she gargled through his warm meat. She lightly dug her nails into his calves, her forearms still secured in place under his weight.

“You want me to get off of your arms so you can play with yourself?” Junho grinned mischievously as he reached behind him and pulled the blanket off of her lower half. She clamped her thighs together in an effort to defend against him, but his strong fingers slipped into the crevice and found their way to her slick pussy.

Ryujin reflexively moaned as he felt his way around her delicate folds. As usual, her body was betraying her, undermining any attempts to deny that she was enjoying his advances. As Junho toyed with her, she began bucking her hips against him, craving more stimulation. He grazed her entrance again and again, never lingering long enough to let the pleasure build. She hated how much of an effect he had on her, her brow furrowed in frustration as his thick shaft slid in and out of her stretched mouth.

Suddenly, he lifted himself off of her and fell onto his back. “Let’s see you put that slutty little mouth to use,” he practically growled, his rigid saliva-covered cock pointing at the ceiling. “Get on your hands and knees.”

“Fuck you,” Ryujin mumbled, complying with his order anyway and positioning herself to continue the taboo blowjob. Her more conservative inner voice was screaming at her for letting this outsider boss her around in the private bed she shared with her boyfriend.

“Ass up, so I can play with you,” he commanded, firmly gripping her thigh and pulling her backside toward him. She moaned again, revealing that she was enjoying his manhandling. She felt like a weightless doll as he effortlessly shifted her body around to his liking. Junho couldn’t help but continue to push her boundaries. He smacked her exposed ass cheek with a loud crack that echoed throughout the room.

“OW! WHAT TH-” Ryujin’s cry of protest was sharply interrupted as his large hand grabbed the back of her head and guided her down onto his thick cock. She gagged and dug her nails into his thigh as he jabbed the back of her throat. One hand wrapped itself in her hair and pulled her back enough to allow her to breathe, while the other began rubbing up and down the length of her creamy pussy. “You fuckin-Ggghhh!”

Junho chewed his bottom lip as he aggressively forced the young girlfriend back onto his dick. He started jerking off his considerable length with her mouth, all while finger fucking her tight pussy and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb.

With each push downwards, Ryujin grew more accustomed to his girth, and her gags gave way to muffled, throaty moans. He was completely having his way with her, and there was little she could do to stop it-not that she wanted to. At first his abrupt assault was appalling, but she quickly warmed up to it. Her juices ran freely down her thighs as he pumped two of his broad fingers in and out of her squelching entrance. Her throat relaxed, and little by little more of his shaft passed through her lips. If she hadn’t felt like a slut before, she was beginning to feel like one now. She had never felt so utterly objectified and depraved. Her ass still stung from his harsh slap, but she found herself craving another. Her emotions and desires were a confusing, chaotic soup, but before she could dwell on them, a powerful orgasm erupted within her.

In a move that subverted even her own expectations, she forcefully pushed herself up, the slimy cock flopping out of her mouth, and screamed, “Oh my God, Junhonn! I’m fucking cumming so hard! Spank me again!” A second later, a sharp jolt of tantalizing pain ran through her as he indulged, and then another. “OH! FUCK YEAHHH!” She exclaimed as she rode the mind-bending climax, tightly gripping his throbbing cock with both hands. He continued to punish her plump backside and ravage her quivering pussy while she shrieked wildly in ecstasy.

The scene was amongst the hottest things Junho had ever witnessed, and he felt that his throbbing cock was on the brink of exploding. He quickly grabbed Ryujin’s hips, twisting her onto her back and straddled her writhing body while he stroked his manhood to completion. With his free hand, he ripped her flimsy top down from her chest, tearing it and exposing her breasts. She yelped in surprise, but was too lost in pleasure to care. With a drawn out grunt from the towering man, a viscous, milky rope shot out and splashed against her cheek. Another landed soundly along the bridge of her nose, and the third across her agape lips, mostly falling into her mouth and coating her tongue. The several remaining blasts of his dense semen barely waned in strength, splattering all over her tits, and painting her torso and tattered shirt. By the time the last few dribbles trickled down her tummy, Ryujin was glazed to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

For several minutes the pair remained frozen in place, breathing heavily and basking in the aftermath of what had just occurred. The fact that she had just willingly sucked her roommate’s big cock and screamed like a slut for him while he covered her in his cum barely seemed to matter at that moment. As her chest rose and fell, she could feel the copious semen dripping down her skin and soaking into the bedding.

Junho was the first to speak, “You ever been plastered like that?”

“Never,” she answered weakly.

“It’s a good look for you,” he added, scooting himself off of her and reaching for his phone. He aimed the camera at her and joked, “Say I’m Junho’s little cum slut.”

“Fuck off!” She couldn’t help but giggle a bit, shielding her face with her open palm. He held the screen out to her, and her jaw dropped as she processed the obscene image on display. It took a full second for Ryujin to recognize the naked woman lewdly sprawled out and coated in jizz in the picture. Even though she had just watched him take the photo, she couldn’t believe the unbelievably slutty looking figure was her. It was also hard to miss how incredibly satisfied her expression appeared. Despite having just cheated on her boyfriend again, with this cocky, manhandling brute no less, Ryujin felt more carefree than she had in a long while. That is, until the sound of the front door opening could be heard through the wall.

“Shit!” She whispered through clenched teeth. “Not again!” Her eyes flickered back and forth indecisively as the door closed loudly and footsteps drew near. Junho sprung into action, scooping her up and repositioning her onto the bed, before pulling the thick comforter over both of them and laying as flat as he could next to her. Ryujin plucked at the covers hurriedly, trying to conceal any shapes, and ducked her face under the blanket as well.

“You awake babe?” Tae asked softly as he entered the dimly lit bedroom.

“Barely... Ugh... Can you please let me sleep a little more?” Ryujin tried her very best to sound natural, but her heart was pounding so hard it was deafening.

“Of course. I got some stuff you should take though-”

“No! I mean... Please leave me be for now. I appreciate you though! I’ll be up soon okay?” She stammered dismissively. If her boyfriend saw her now, there would be no way to explain the shiny globs of cum that still covered her. There was also the issue of getting Junho out of her bedroom without him noticing. She had to think fast.

“Alright. Well I’ll check on you soon,” Tae said.

“Oh, um... Babe? Could you please check my car for my phone charger?” She improvised.

“You can just use mine-”

“No, I need mine please,” she insisted, not sure how to justify it.

“Uh, okay then,” the boyfriend chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryujin held her breath and waited for the apartment to clear. The second the front door closed, she threw the bedding off of her and scrambled towards the foot of the bed. She felt something wrap tightly around her ankle, and she was jerked back towards her roommate, who wrapped his large arms around her.

“Dude!” She yelled as he groped her luscious, sticky tits.

“Round two?” He asked, grinning mischievously and dropping a hand down to her unprotected mound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Get the fuck out of my room!” She demanded as she tried to wriggle free from his hold. His fingers were already inside of her again, rummaging around in her still sopping wet pussy. “Seriously! Nghhh-Please!”

“I’ll go, but I want to hear you admit how much you loved being my naughty little cum canvas,” he grumbled into her ear while stroking her clit and pinching her nipple.

“Hnnngh... Please... He’s gonna be back any minute-”

“So say it. I don’t care if he sees us.”

“You’re such a-ffffuck-ing ass-ohhh...” Ryujin knew she had no choice. “Fine... I Ioved it...” She had to get away from him before her brain decided the growing climax would be worth the risk.

“Loved what?”

“Ugh... Being your-Being... covered in all your... cum...” She admitted it shamefully.

“It was my pleasure.” Junho immediately released her and strode out of the room, fully naked and as smug as ever. Ryujin followed soon after, ducking into the bathroom and jumping into the shower. Before even attempting to scrub the semen off of her skin, her hands were between her legs. Her sex ached for more attention from her roommate, and she lost count of how many times she got herself off under the scalding water, the potent flavor of his salty seed still on her tongue.

******

Ryujin was sipping a hot, bitter coffee in the back room of a small clothing store, mentally preparing to face another tedious shift of her part-time gig. It was an early weekday morning, and she would likely be responsible for the more boring parts of the job given that there were seldom any customers at this time of day. She could faintly hear her bubbly manager, Amber, chatting away with someone out on the floor, which was surprising given that they had just opened the shop. After tossing the styrofoam cup into the trash can, Ryujin yawned and opened the door to see what all the fuss was about.

Amber, from the looks of it, was in her natural habitat, flirting with some guy who had no doubt accidentally wandered into her trap. The young woman was very well put together, always dawning flawless makeup, in contrast to Ryujin, who was more likely to let her natural beauty shine through. Amber couldn’t help herself around attractive men, and had a reputation for having flings at the drop of a dime. Ryujin watched her touch the tall man’s bicep as she giggled about whatever it was they were discussing. As she drew nearer, she felt as though she recognized that bicep. Then the man turned to her, and to her surprise, it was Junho.

“Hey, Ryujin!” He greeted her cheerfully.

It took her a minute to process his sudden presence in her usually private world of the store. “H-Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I was going to try out this new gym that opened down the street, and then I remembered you mentioned that this was the place you worked at,” he explained, crossing his arms and smiling widely.

Amber appeared a little dismayed that the attention had suddenly shifted away from her. “You guys know each other?”

“Yeah! We live together!” Junho answered.

“Wha-Oh, so this is your boyfriend?” She inquired, clearly disappointed to learn that her chances with him had suddenly plummeted.

“No... he’s just our roommate.” Ryujin replied quickly, starting to worry that Junho would reveal something about the complicated nature of their relationship. It was only two days ago that she had his big cock down her throat before he shot his cum all over her.

“Oh good, so you’re single!” Amber flashed her perfect teeth and planted her palm on his broad chest. She did not know the meaning of subtle.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, realizing an opportunity was developing before his eyes. “Can’t tie this guy down,” Junho said jokingly, flexing his muscles and getting an easy laugh out of his new fan.

“Well you can tie me down...” Amber commented seductively. “Give me your number, hot stuff.”

Ryujin rolled her eyes and turned to leave the sickening interaction.

“See you at home, Ryujin!” Junho called out to her.

“Whatever,” she replied under her breath, grabbing her clipboard off of the counter to start her daily tasks. Ryujin tried to focus on her job, but couldn’t ignore the negative emotions that were rising to the surface. The image of her slutty manager’s hands all over her roommate plagued her mind. First of all, he and I are not dating... I have a boyfriend... They can fuck like rabbits for all I care... The thought did not sit well with her. Ryujin must have muttered the phrase “Who cares” to herself a thousand times throughout the day in an attempt to distance herself from the feelings.

As she readied herself to end the shift, Ryujin noticed Amber smiling ear to ear while she tapped away at her phone. “Oh my God, Ryujin! How come you never told me about this guy? He’s so fucking hot. And guess what? We’re going out tonight!”

Ryujin’s heart sank to her stomach. She’d been secretly hoping that Junho would never actually entertain the idea of spending time with this woman, but apparently she was wrong. They were already set to meet up that night, and knowing them, would almost certainly end up hooking up. She wondered what that would mean for her plans, a night she was meant to spend in his bed. Ryujin tried her best to act naturally, but couldn’t hold back her opposition. “Oh really? After just meeting him?”

“Well, yeah! He seemed super into me, don’t you think?”

“I guess... He’s kind of a jerk though. You might not want to waste your time,” Ryujin explained, secretly ashamed that she was meddling in their plans.

“He seemed nice enough to me,” Amber said dismissively. She wasn’t about to let her coworker rain on her parade. “And that body... Mmm! I bet he has a big dick too. I’m pretty sure I saw some serious bulge going on down there.”

“I dunno. Small dick energy if you ask me,” Ryujin muttered.

“Well I guess I’ll find out soon!” Amber winked. “What do you think I should wear?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Ryujin gathered her things and strolled out of the store in a hurry, her jealousy hitting a tipping point.

******

That night as she and Tae ate dinner, Ryujin found it nearly impossible to focus on the conversation with her boyfriend. She kept eyeing the front door, hoping that Junho would show up alone, having canceled his date. She hated herself for letting the scenario affect her so much. The complicated feelings were a harsh reminder that she had gone way too far with her roommate, and that she needed some normalcy to return to her recently chaotic life.

After cleaning up, the couple cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It wasn’t long before the door to the apartment swung open, and Junho noisily entered, followed closely by a giggling Amber. Ryujin audibly groaned, but luckily the sounds of the film covered up her show of disappointment. As the newcomers shuffled towards the bedroom, Ryujin’s gaze met her roommate’s and the eye contact lingered for an extra beat. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to convey, and her conflicted feelings resulted in a mostly blank expression. He simply grinned, and continued leading his date to his room. Amber waved and said hello to the two of them, winking at Ryujin before disappearing into the private space.

“Wow, just like old times, eh?” Tae said to his girlfriend, clearly elated for the disruption in the night’s sleeping arrangement. “He hasn’t brought a girl home in a while. Guess that means we can stay together tonight.”

“Yeah...” Ryujin was distracted, knowing what was about to happen on the other side of the wall.

“Babe?” Tae lightly shook her.

“Yeah! It’s good!” She agreed simply, snapping out of it. Nothing positive would come out of eavesdropping, she decided. This is good, she told herself. This is normal. Normal is good. She pressed herself into her boyfriend’s hold and returned her attention to the movie, determined to accept the circumstances and enjoy a regular night of being a faithful girlfriend like she was supposed to. Ryujin’s new resolve soothed her conscience, and she felt at peace for the next few minutes.

As the on screen entertainment transitioned into a more silent scene, noises could be heard coming from Junho’s room. “Oh! Oh! Yes! Fuuuck Yes!” Amber suddenly cried out. Ryujin and Tae pretended not to hear it, hoping the movie sounds would pick back up again soon. “Oh my God! Ah! Yeah! Fuck!” It was hard to ignore the woman’s yelps of pleasure, and Ryujin found her mind wandering. It sounded like Junho was fucking her hard, and she could picture his toned body slamming into her. She wondered what position they were in. Is it missionary, or is he taking her from behind? The girlfriend secretly hoped there was no passion, just raw sex. The jealous feelings returned with a vengeance as she was forced to listen to her ditsy manager get railed by her roommate’s big dick. She was getting to experience it in a way Ryujin hadn’t, but that was by her own choice, she reminded herself. She wasn’t supposed to wonder what his massive cock would feel like inside of her. Despite all of these mixed emotions, the thought of it in action in the next room was turning her on.

“Hoy fucking shiiiiiit!” One last exclamation could be heard before the speakers finally covered up the debauchery. Ryujin realized that she could channel her arousal back into the right direction, and placed her hand on her boyfriend’s crotch. She kissed his neck and lightly rubbed him in an attempt to bring his member to life.

“I need you to fuck me,” she whispered into Tae’s ear, smiling as she felt his cock hardening. He turned his head and kissed her, feebly grabbing at her tit.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, grinning at his ravenous girlfriend. “Is it...” His eyes darted in the direction of Junho’s room. “I thought you hated those... sounds.”

“I do, but I just-ugh. Just shut up and fuck me okay?” Ryujin started hastily unzipping his shorts.

“Right here? Babe we-” Tae’s hesitation shattered as his eager girlfriend fished his erection out and took its entire length into her warm mouth. His mouth hung agape in shock as she slid him in and out of her, twisting the saliva-coated base of his cock in her fist. The couple rarely dabbled in oral sex, and here she was enthusiastically enveloping his entire dick. “Ohhh, that feels so good babe...”

Ryujin knew he had a habit of finishing quickly, so her time was limited. She slowed her movements gradually, making eye contact, and released his spongy head with a loud pop. Without a word, the horny young woman took her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom. Amber could be heard moaning again as they exited the living room. Ryujin pushed Tae onto his back, removed her shorts, and climbed on top of him. She slid her thong to the side, and just before impaling herself, he protested, “Wait! Condom!”

“Babe, it’s okay, just pull out,” she pleaded, the heat of the moment slipping through her fingers.

“No, it won’t feel safe. Sorry, just a sec.” Tae slid out from under her and grabbed a packet from his drawer. He fumbled with it for a moment, and had to jerk himself off a bit to get fully hard again.

Ryujin waited patiently, but knew the likelihood of him actually satisfying her was slim to none. She could still faintly hear her manager squealing with delight across the apartment, and wondered if she had already cum for Junho. It was probably a matter of how many times, rather than if it had happened, she thought. “Tae, please get over here and give it to me,” she requested again.

“Okay, ready!” He took his place on his back again, and Ryujin climbed on top of him, finally sinking a hard cock into her depths. It felt great, and they both moaned at the joint stimulation. She put her hands on his chest and began gyrating her hips, finding the rhythm she needed to start building the pleasure. As she rode him, her mind kept traveling to the other bedroom, and she couldn’t prevent the intrusive thought of how different it must feel to be stuffed full of her roommate’s much larger tool. The thought of that monstrosity stretching her open was too wickedly alluring to ignore at the moment, and she allowed the fantasy of being with Junho instead to consume her attention.

He would probably have his big, strong hands all over me right now while I bounced on his fat cock. Hell, he’d probably throw me off of him so that he could have his way with me first. The daydream was fueling Ryujin’s arousal to new heights, and she was bucking into her boyfriend harder and harder.

Tae stared at his sexy girlfriend in awe - her perfectly toned tummy and full, perky tits dancing above him - he could hardly believe she was his. Her sultry expression was one of pure lust. She looked so cute and determined to get off with him. It was all too much, and he felt his climax already rearing its head. “So good... Oh...” He began tensing up.

Ryujin knew the telltale signs of her boyfriend’s completion, and quickly stopped grinding him. “Not yet babe!” She lifted herself off of him, but it was too late, and she watched in disappointment as his dick twitched and spewed a few globs of semen into the condom.

“Fuuuck... I’m sorry...” He muttered shamefully.

“It’s okay... It’s okay... Just... Can you lick me?” Ryujin fell onto her back and spread her legs, her fingers teasing her clit. There was no way she was giving up this orgasm.

“Sure!” Tae was relieved that he could still help his girlfriend get to the finish line, and crawled to her soaking pussy for a taste. He clumsily ran his tongue around the area, and jabbed at her entrance a few times. “Mmm is that good?”

“It’s... Fine. Yeah, just keep licking right there... Mhmm...” She closed her eyes and focused on stimulating her clit. His tongue was better than nothing, but it was night and day when compared to what Junho had done to her. God... The way he held me down and ate me like I was his last meal... Groping me and making me squirm while forcing me to admit that I was his cheating slut...

“Ngh! Ohhhhh...” Ryujin moaned while picturing her roommate dominating her. She rubbed herself with fervor and ground her sex into Tae’s face. She was almost there. “Beg me to fuck you.” Junho’s words rang in her mind. “Please fuck me,” she whimpered under her breath. A scalding wave of pleasure washed over her as she orgasmed, her jaw dropping and back arching. She pressed firmly onto her clit, tightly trapping her fingers and her boyfriend between her quivering thighs. She drew breath slowly and shakily as the endorphins ran their course, eventually subsiding and leaving her limp and sweaty.

“Holy shit, babe... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum that hard,” Tae said admiringly, with a dash of pride at thinking he was solely responsible.

“Yeah... Sometimes...” She cooed, still lost in the aftermath.

“Well, goodnight.” He kissed her lips.

“Goodnight...” Ryujin drifted to sleep effortlessly, even though the sounds of her roommate and coworker still going at it could be heard in the distance.

******

Ryujin woke the next morning before the sunlight had even pierced her bedroom window. With an anxious pit in her stomach, she checked her work schedule and was reminded that she was scheduled to open the store with Amber again that morning. She contemplated calling out sick, dreading the awkward interaction that would surely occur upon her arrival, but decided to be brave and face the day. She quietly slipped out of her room, carefully listening for any indication that the woman was still in her apartment. All was silent, so she hopped into the shower and hurriedly readied herself to leave.

She tip-toed through the front door, relieved that no one else had seemed to have stirred yet, and left for work. Ryujin spent her short commute mentally rehearsing what she might say to her manager, or how to avoid her. Undoubtedly she would want to gush about her experience with Junho, which Ryujin was not ready to hear. She had gotten enough of an earful about it already. Despite arriving quite a bit early, she was surprised to see Amber’s car was already in the parking lot.

“Hey, Amber,” she said, reluctantly greeting the woman. Might as well try to play nice, she figured.

“Hey...” Amber replied back, with no enthusiasm and a hint of melancholy.

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. This was not at all how she expected this interaction to go. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...” Amber was avoiding eye contact and fiddling with a tablet.

“Not gonna lie... I kind of expected you to be in a better mood this morning,” Ryujin stated, now filled with curiosity.

“Heh...”

“You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Ugh... No big deal. You were right though, he’s kind of a jerk.” Amber said, finally looking up from her arbitrary task.

“Oh.” Ryujin wasn’t sure what to say next. What could Junho have possibly done for her to have this reaction, especially after a night of what sounded like amazing sex. “It sounded like... I mean, weren’t you guys...”

“He’s a great fuck if that’s what you’re getting at. Like, crazy good...”

“Then what happened? Just his general attitude got to you, or?”

“No... I can deal with that...” Amber muttered, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well?” Ryujin couldn’t let it go. The mystery was too captivating at that point.

Amber turned bright red and sighed. “Fine. He... Don’t tell anyone, but... He said your name. Right in the middle of what I thought was the best sex of all time, he called me Ryujin.”

“Oh... I’m-Sorry...” Ryujin placed her hand on her coworker’s shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to react outwardly, but well aware that she couldn’t allow her true emotions to escape her just yet. She was equally shocked and elated to hear of her roommate’s mistake.

“It’s fine. It was just a stupid hook up. I’ll get over it,” Amber insisted in a show of maturity.

“That sucks though. I’m sorry that happened.” Ryujin tried to reassure her.

“Thanks... That guy is obviously into you, Ryujin. I was picking up on some vibes when he was here yesterday too, but I guess I didn’t want to believe in them.”

“No... I’m sure it was just a mindless slip of the tongue,” she said, not believing her own words. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, I don’t wanna tell you how to live your life, girl, but for your sake I hope your man fucks half as good as that stud.”

The women did not discuss the subject any further, and began independently getting their daily tasks done. About an hour later, Ryujin was organizing a shelf when she heard unintelligible voices conversing, followed by Amber loudly announcing, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Just drop it, okay? No harm done.” She peered around the corner and saw her manager, blushing and walking towards her. Junho was behind her, looking a little less cool and collected than usual. “It’s just embarrassing,” Amber whispered as she passed her and headed for the exit. “Now’s a good time to take my lunch break.”

Ryujin approached the tall man with a spring in her step, more than a little excited to see him after hearing what had happened. “Can’t get enough of her, eh?”

Junho chuckled strangely, “Just wanted to say hi I guess.” He wasn’t sure if the women had discussed the fumble, and preferred his roommate knew nothing about it.

Is he being awkward? Ryujin wondered, suppressing a smile at his rare show of vulnerability. She was looking forward to fishing the information out of him. “Looks like she didn’t wanna talk. What could that be about?”

He shrugged. “Dunno...”

“Hm, guess she wasn’t impressed,” she teased, glancing down at his package. She decided it was more fun that he didn’t know that Amber had spilled the beans to her already.

“I think you know that that’s basically impossible,” he defended himself, straightening his posture.

“How would I know that?” Ryujin asked, subconsciously taking a step towards him.

“If you don’t by now, you will in due time,” he replied, closing the distance further.

“Well if you keep bringing random girls home, there won’t be a lot of time for that, will there?” She knew what her comment was suggesting, and worried that it might have been too forward.

“True.” He said simply.

Ryujin’s heart rate quickened as she took in his scent and felt his eyes scanning her body. She considered the space around her, quickly observing the emptiness of the store, and the security camera that they were in partial view of. “So what can I help you with today? You mentioned you were looking to try on some new pants?” She aimlessly picked up a pair of jeans that were conveniently resting on the shelf beside them, and offered them to him.

“You think these will be a good fit?” He asked, seamlessly slipping into the role of the unfamiliar customer.

“Yeah! Let me show you to the dressing rooms,” she announced. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew what was about to happen. Her eyes darted around again to confirm. There was no one in sight, and she knew for a fact that there weren’t any cameras in the dressing room area, including the common space where the employees would often spend time watching over the rooms and organizing the abandoned garments. She led Junho across the room and into the private alcove. “Here we are, sir,” she said in her professional customer service voice, holding the door open for him and feeling a tingle of excitement as his hard body brushed past her.

“I think I’m gonna need some help, miss,” he eyed her knowingly.

“Oh? What else can I do for you?” Ryujin’s pulse quickened in anticipation.

“I’m just a little sore from the gym, and was hoping you could help me out of these joggers.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that sort of thing is allowed here-Ah!” She was interrupted as Junho’s hand grabbed her slender waist and pulled her into the room. He aggressively pushed the door closed and his large frame pinned her against the wall of the tiny room. Her body was trapped between the cool partition and his warm chest. “I could get into a lot of troub-” Ryujin was once again interrupted, his lips mashing into hers, and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

“Mmmm...” She moaned into the kiss as her defenses vanished, and she offered her tongue to him. His strong hands slowly ran down her back and to her ass, which he then squeezed and used to lift her off of the ground. Still pinned against the wall, she was now at his height, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her firmly and passionately, and she mirrored his intensity. They were basically devouring each other in the cramped space, as if they had both been starved for affection. Ryujin could feel his hardness swelling rapidly against her, like it was threatening to rip through their clothing and penetrate her. She squeezed him into her more tightly, enhancing the friction between their wanting genitals.

Ryujin was the first to break the kiss, panting heavily, and dropped her leg to the ground, which caused Junho to let her down. She could feel her pussy was already soaking wet from the encounter. She found herself wishing to please him in that moment; to prove that she knew how to satisfy him. The young girlfriend dropped to her knees and started to tug at her hung roommate’s waistband until his massive erection sprung out before her eyes. She took his rock hard cock in her soft hand and gave the tip a small peck.

“God, you look like such a hot little slut with my big dick on your face,” Junho admired, resting his meaty appendage along the bridge of her nose, and gliding his smooth shaft ever so slightly along her skin. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “Did you miss me last night?”

“Not as much as you missed me,” she replied, sticking out her tongue and licking up the length of his cock. Junho chuckled and allowed her to take control as she flicked the underside of his head with her tongue and pushed her pursed lips against it. Ryujin slowly allowed him inside, taking in his fat piece of meat one centimeter at a time. At about four inches or so, he hit the back of her throat, and she held him there while her tongue snaked back and forth. She used her hand to spread her saliva down the rest of his length, lightly jerking the base while she bobbed her head on the third that she could fit.

Junho inhaled through his teeth and groaned in pleasure as his roommate serviced him. He took a moment to appreciate the wild turn of events that had gotten him into Ryujin’s lovely mouth that morning. He hadn’t been sure what would come of confronting the women after what had transpired the night before, but he’d felt a strong inclination to show up and figure it out. This outcome was about as well as it could have possibly gone for him, and he allowed himself a minute to get lost in her bright, determined eyes. “Whoofff... You’re getting good at this, baby.” He battled the compulsion to increase the intensity and start fucking her face again, deciding to let her continue proving herself while he relaxed this time around.

Ryujin pulled him out of her mouth with a slurp, and jerked him off with both hands, smiling with her tongue out. “You think?” In no mood to pretend she wasn’t enjoying herself, she genuinely wanted to hear more praise from him. She knew she wasn’t particularly experienced sucking cock, especially when compared with her slutty manager, but secretly hoped she possessed an innate talent that would impress Junho. She had more or less let him have his way during their previous encounter, but she was now in the driver’s seat, and didn’t want to disappoint.

“Definitely... You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up,” he encouraged.

The cheating girlfriend slid the throbbing dick back into her mouth, pleased to hear she was succeeding. She did feel a sense of urgency, remembering where she was, and that Amber could come back at any time. More risky still, a customer might quietly drop in, and they’d probably hear the obscene squelching sounds coming from the small dressing room as she began pumping Junho’s cock with increased enthusiasm.

“Ahh... Fuck yeah... That’s my good little cocksucker... Is it making you all wet to be on your knees like this in public?” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Mhmmm,” she answered with a slight nod. She couldn’t believe how turned on the whole thing was making her. If she’d been told a month ago that she’d be blowing Junho at some random clothing store, she would consider it impossible. The risk of getting caught was another spicy factor that only made the interaction even hotter. Ryujin caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror beside them, noticing her watery eyes and the thick rope of saliva dangling from her chin while her lips stretched to accept the thick manhood. She truly felt like his little cocksucker, and the aching need in her pussy insisted that it was the way to be.

“Fuck, Ryujin... I’m getting close,” Junho mumbled.

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” Ryujin gagged on her roommate’s big dick as it jabbed the back of her throat repeatedly. She realized she would have to swallow his entire load, as she was in no position to be glazed in cum at the moment. Her shift had barely started, and she would have to work the next several hours in whatever state he left her in. Ryujin began mentally preparing herself to handle what would undoubtedly be a massive volume of semen.

“Oh fuck... Just like that, slut...”

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” She could feel him throbbing against her tongue.

“Oh my fucking... Mmmm!” Junho groaned in pleasure as his cock jumped in Ryujin’s tight, wet mouth. A viscous string of salty-sweet seed splashed the back of her throat, and she gagged at the unexpected force of it. Clamping her lips firmly around him, she managed to swallow just in time for another shot of cum to quickly fill the little space there was. She drank it down as swiftly as possible while his big cock pulsed wildly and relentlessly ejaculated into her. Ryujin surprised herself as she managed to mostly contain his impossibly heavy dose, only a small amount dribbling from the corners of her lips.

Junho watched the young girlfriend in a daze as she gulped down the last of his seed, and began sucking and licking his cock clean automatically. She continued to exceed his expectations, and he once again privately counted his blessings. He fantasized about keeping her in that room with him for the rest of the day, or at least for long enough to finally fuck her. That would have to wait, he decided, and he took her hand in his, lifting her to her feet and pulling her against him.

Ryujin lovingly licked away the last remnants of cum from his barely-deflated shaft. His potent flavor overwhelmed all of her senses, and she thought about how many nights she’d seen all of his fluids go to waste. This time, every drop was traveling down to her belly, which, for reasons she didn’t understand, was intensely erotic for her. She felt Junho’s strong hand take hers, and before she knew it, found herself in his arms again. He kissed her firmly, and she reciprocated, the taste of his tongue mixing into the already intoxicating Junho cocktail she was experiencing. She felt his hands roam down her back and slip into her pants. He squeezed her plump ass as their tongues swirled around each other, and her pussy drooled in anticipation. Her roommate’s thick finger traveled further down, disregarding the barrier of her panties, and tunneled its way to her soaking lips.

“Ohhh... Pleeease...” She moaned into his mouth as he lightly traced lines up and down her slick entrance. The last bit of caution she had regarding the setting melted away, as she grinded her sticky pussy into his fingers. Then he withdrew. Slowly, but deliberately, he retracted, and with one last kiss, left her without his touch.

“I’ll take care of you tonight,” he said seductively, and turned to leave.

Ryujin spent the next few minutes composing herself, mustering up every ounce of self-control not to finish herself off. She rehearsed a “normal” smile in the mirror, and strode back out into the store, the taste of her roommate still on her lips.

Ryujin returned home in the evening after a long day of work followed by shopping for materials she would need for her upcoming university classes. She entered the shared apartment to find Tae and Junho about to take a shot of alcohol.

“Heyyy! Just in time!” Her boyfriend, looking more clean-cut than he had in a while, greeted her cheerfully. “Guess what, babe? I landed a job!”

Ryujin’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! That’s great! I didn’t even know you were-”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he explained, handing her a shot glass. “I’ve been in contact with them and had the in-person interview this morning, and they got back to me just a few hours later. The stars just aligned on this one!”

“That’s so awesome! Congrats!” She exclaimed, legitimately happy for him. The trio gulped down their celebratory liquid and enjoyed a couple rounds of a simple drinking game. Tae described his interview in more detail, and the others learned that the new job was a step down from his previous one, but still seemed decent and stable. Anything was better than the sedentary life he had been living for the past few months, Ryujin decided.

As the drinks flowed, the elephant in the room grew larger, until Tae finally broached the subject. “So I guess this means we can finally go back to normal, right?” He asked the group suddenly.

Ryujin waited to see if Junho would respond, and he did. “Eventually, yeah. Let’s wait to see that first paycheck though, eh big guy?” He chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. “Besides, I already paid for this month.” The handsome man smirked at his friend’s girlfriend knowingly, and she felt a tingle between her legs. She had just gulped down all of his cum that very morning, and shuddered at the thought of what he was planning to do to her that night.

“Well it won’t be much longer now. I start next week, so expect that money soon. We need to put this shit behind us,” he said firmly, surprising the others with his sudden boost in confidence. “Be right back.”

As Tae headed towards the bathroom, Junho wrapped an arm around Ryujin, and pulled her against him. “I guess that means we better make every second count,” he muttered in her ear as his hand roamed to her chest, squeezing her pliant flesh.

“Stop!” She whispered, squirming in his strong embrace. Both hands were now roughly groping her tits, and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. Her roommate’s warm breath bathed her neck before his teeth lightly scraped it. “Junho, seriously...” Ryujin protested as the dangerous sensations of her body’s consent began to spread in her loins.

As he kissed and nibbled her soft skin, Junho could actually feel her pulse quickening. The toilet flushed, and he slowly withdrew from the petite woman. “Where’s a dressing room when you need one?” He joked, smiling at her as she quickly composed herself and fixed her shirt.

“You’re such a fucking perv,” she chastised her roommate just before Tae returned to the couch. The game continued, and Junho took every chance to steal a feel of Ryujin, from subtly bumping his body into hers, to outright groping her when his friend was distracted. The man clearly had an appetite, and his risky advances were making her horny. At one point she let her gaze linger on the prominent bulge in his pants, and felt the urge to climb into his lap so he could put his hands all over her. After playing around a while longer, Tae announced he was ready for bed, and held his hand out to his girlfriend invitingly.

“Mmm wrong night, buddy.” Junho pointed out.

Tae shot him a look of disapproval. “I’m not going to sleep just yet. Will you join me, babe?”

“I see...” the cocky man laughed. “Enjoy, you two. But send her to my room when you’re done,” he instructed, winking.

Ryujin should’ve been used to his boldness by now, but still found herself slightly shocked that he would make such a suggestive comment in front of Tae. She rose to her feet and followed her boyfriend, thinking about how slutty it made her feel to be ordered around between the two bedrooms, and noticing that it turned her on.

As soon as they closed the door, Tae kissed her, and started removing her clothes. Ryujin was slightly taken aback by his newfound ability to take charge, but was pleasantly surprised. He pushed her to the bed, and rolled a condom onto his modest erection. He mounted his girlfriend, spearing her with his hardness, and began pumping away. “Wow, you’re so wet already,” he beamed. “My good news has you all excited, eh?” She nodded in response, focused on trying to get into the moment. While she was undoubtedly happy for his success, the moistness in her pussy was caused by Junho’s repeated sneaky touches throughout the night.

After nearly ten minutes of actually decent sex, compared to their recent attempts together, Tae ejaculated into his protection, and slumped on top of her. Ryujin had almost orgasmed, but ended up faking a small one as he finished. She thought about completing the job herself, or asking him to eat her out like the last time they were intimate, but decided to enjoy the restful moment with him instead. He’s too tired anyway, she rationalized to herself, refusing to acknowledge that perhaps she was saving herself for what would inevitably happen in the next bedroom.

The young woman lay there in silence, listening to her boyfriend’s deep breathing. She did feel guilty. She’d coexisted with the uncomfortable emotion for a while now, locking it away when she could, but forced to face it in the quiet moments. Whatever it was that had developed between her and Junho, it was going to come to an end. It always had to. Knowing it was a temporary thing made the guilt easier to deal with. Ryujin felt that her future self could move on and accept that she and her roommate were just getting something out of their systems during this odd time in their lives. It also helped to remind herself that they had managed to keep themselves from going all the way, and had not actually had sex, which had to count for something.

Tae’s breath slowed to a dull snore, and Ryujin scooted out from under the sleeping man. It was an Junho night, and she had to finish out the agreement. She slipped into a thong and baggy t-shirt before tiptoeing towards the bedroom at the other end of the apartment. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering about as she contemplated what might happen in there that night. Will he be waiting for me with his big hard dick in hand? Will he make me suck it again, and cum down my throat? Maybe he’ll lick my pussy. Ryujin grew hornier the more she thought about the vast menu of dirty acts they might indulge in. She reassured herself that as long as they didn’t push the boundaries any further, and were committed to stopping altogether soon, she could enjoy herself.

She opened the door and was surprised to find that the light was off, and her roommate was seemingly asleep already. How long had I been daydreaming? She wondered, trying to suppress her disappointment as she crawled into her side of the bed. “You asleep?” She whispered, lightly brushing his shoulder, but he did not react. Still in an aroused state, she lay motionless for several minutes, enjoying the comfortable mattress and pleasant fragrance of Junho’s room. A setting that had once been so new and surreal was quite familiar now, and she slowly drifted to sleep with the thought that it would be one of the last remaining nights she would experience it.

******

The first thing that Ryujin noticed as she regained consciousness was a throbbing sensation in her pelvic region, and that her pussy felt soaking wet. As she contemplated her dark surroundings, she realized that Junho was spooning her, and clutching her tightly against him. His broad forearm was resting snugly across her torso, and his hand had gone up her shirt. A tingle of pleasure shot from her chest to her sex as he twisted her erect nipple. He was awake, and he had her small frame completely constricted in his hold. Ryujin felt a warmth on her pussy, and gasped at the sudden awareness of what was happening. Junho’s big, hard cock was rubbing back and forth across her creamy folds, steadily tracing a line along her entrance, and making her gush as it made contact with her clit.

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Giving you what you need, obviously.” He replied, his stubbly chin scratching the skin behind her ear.

“But, you can’t-” She argued, feeling utterly helpless in his powerful clutch. She wondered what had happened to her underwear, which had apparently been removed. The forbidden friction between their genitals felt so wickedly good, and her body craved more.

“Can’t what? Do this?” He thrust his hips ever so slightly forward and his thick head prodded against her tight entrance, threatening to break the seal.

“NO!” Ryujin shouted. Her mind was racing now. Is this really about to happen? Is his huge dick about to stretch me open? The intrusive thought had bombarded her mind for so long now, and it was on the brink of becoming a reality. Junho’s large hand snaked up her chest, through the opening of her shirt, and clamped over her mouth. “Mmm!” She half-moaned, half-protested into his meaty palm. Feeling even more powerless than before, she writhed against him, able to move just enough that his cock slipped out of the crater and slid along her slippery slit. It kept finding its way back though, and pushed into her barrier a bit harder each time.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to feel so amazing in a second. Just give in,” he murmured, his words equal parts titillating and threatening.

Ryujin felt like she was about to be devoured by a python as she struggled against her roommate. She was completely at his mercy and was realizing that she was not going to be able to stop him. Is he even wearing a condom? She doubted he’d bothered to use protection, and a shiver ran down her spine at the idea that he was about to stuff his bare dick into her. It was something she’d never experienced, and made her feel even more vulnerable than she already was.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re half asleep, and for all you know I’m your boyfriend. Just lay there and take it like a good little slut, okay?” Junho thrusted his throbbing cock more firmly still, and Ryujin’s tight hole began to stretch around the large, invading circumference. Somehow his twisted suggestion helped her relax slightly. She wasn’t the one pushing things further, and thus didn’t have to be responsible for it. She knew the logic was deeply flawed, but her brain was wholly flooded with desire and not capable of thinking straight. She could feel his fat, bulbous head sinking further into her one painfully slow centimeter at a time, and her pussy oozed lubrication to prepare for him.

Junho’s mushroom tip finally crossed the threshold, and it was suddenly buried completely, her taut walls enclosing it. As shallow as he was, it already felt like nothing Ryujin had ever experienced, and she braced herself for what would come next. Instead of further penetrating though, he went the other direction, slowly pulling out of her clinging pinkness.

He groaned quietly in her ear before pushing into her again, taking care to move as slowly as possible to allow her sex time to warm up to his. His roommate’s warm, gripping cunt felt even tighter than he imagined it would, and he was determined to enjoy every single fraction of a second as he breached her defenses. The sensation on the sensitive ridge of his crown as he passed into her again was euphoric, and he’d only barely sampled her surface. Junho felt his balls tighten as he fought the urge to drill into her further, managing his pace with all the control he could muster.

Ryujin’s entire body was ablaze. Her roommate’s careful teasing was breaking her will one painfully shallow thrust at a time. The need to have his fat cock fill more of her was becoming unbearable, and she began involuntarily bucking her hips back into him. Her efforts were mostly fruitless though, as he held her in place with unyielding rigidity. Her weak attempts to capture more of him only accomplished a dull feeling of shame as her deafening lust drowned out the last bits of reluctance she had left.

A thin layer of sweat was forming upon both of them as the heated interaction between their bodies went on. Junho continued to edge his tip in and out of her entrance, and could feel her juices coating him more and more, the viscous liquid running down the veiny surface area of his shaft. He felt her struggles to escape slowly morph into struggles to take in more of his cock, which would’ve prompted a triumphant grin if his face wasn’t already occupied with absolute pleasure.

“God, you feel incredible. Do you think your hot little pussy is ready for more of me?” He relaxed his grip on her jaw, allowing her the opportunity to reply as he continued to tease her.

“Nggghhh...” Ryujin couldn’t take it anymore. The rational part of her brain that had reaffirmed how wrong it was to be messing around with her roommate was lost in a thick soup of arousal. She was going to be fucked by Junho. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered to her. He was going to take her whether she wanted it or not, and she privately accepted that she wanted it more than anything. She shuddered in his arms; the thought of his monster cock filling her up completely was her singular focus.

“Beg me for more you sexy little slut,” he commanded.

“Fuuuuck...” She moaned. Despite how badly she wanted him, to actually say it out loud was too depraved.

Junho ceased his thrusting after pulling out of her, his throbbing hardness resting against her clit. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Just say it, and I’ll handle the rest...”

“Uggghh! Mmmpfff!” Ryujin tried desperately to wiggle her bottom into him, but could only slather her drenched lips against his skin. It wasn’t enough. Nothing but his entire, juicy dick fucking her would ever be enough. “Fuck! Fuck me! PLEASE FUCK ME!” As the words left her lips, her creamy opening was parted and her depths were stretched around him as he tunneled into her. “OHHHHH!” Her mind felt like it was exploding as every surface of her tight pussy was assaulted by his thick, throbbing cock. It forced its way deeper and deeper for what felt like an eternity, until it battered against her cervix. “FUCK!” She was absolutely stuffed full of Junho, and it felt like nothing she could’ve ever described before. She could perceive every subtle contour of his naked member pulsing inside of her, his skin against hers with no protective barrier.

Then he pulled out, swiftly and smoothly, the entire length passing through her again in reverse. She gasped sharply for air, just in time for him to plunge back into her. His hips crashed into bare ass with a loud slap, sending ripples throughout her curves as his invading cock sent shockwaves throughout the deepest parts of her. “FUHUHUHHHCK!” Ryujin’s muscles tensed up, and she was suddenly aware that a massive orgasm was about to consume her. “YES! YES! YESSSS!”

Junho unleashed his third powerful stroke, and Ryujin let out a guttural moan as she came the hardest she ever had in her life. As her body was flooded with endorphins, she writhed against him in total pleasure. He remained firmly planted inside of her, and she could feel her pussy spasming and clenching around him. She felt as though she was on a different planet as her climax rocked her body relentlessly. After floating on a cloud for a length of time that was not perceivable to her, she felt her roommate’s big cock move within her again.

With another loud crack of skin on skin impact, he thrust into her a fourth time, then a fifth. The fire that was Ryujin’s orgasm was stoked again and again as he fucked her with a steady and deliberate rhythm. “Oh my FUCKING Gahhhh!” Her screams of approval trembled as he pummeled her. The most potent climax of her life also became the longest as he would not let up. She couldn’t believe how incredibly intense it felt to be taken by him. She wondered if she had just discovered what sex was supposed to be like. Surely not. Surely it was exceedingly rare to feel this fucking good. She dug her fingernails into his forearm, holding on for dear life as he continued assaulting her.

Junho was utterly enthralled by his roommate’s body as he gave her his all. He was finally experiencing what he’d dreamed about for months, and it was even better than everything he’d hoped for. Her tight, creamy pussy hugged his cock perfectly as he molded her depths. The feel of her supple young body spasming in his arms, and her uncontrollable moans of pleasure were beyond encouraging. He was elated at how quickly she had taken to his dick. As he slammed into her again and again, his room was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling. If his friend happened to be awake, he thought, there would be absolutely no hiding what was occurring. He was too wrapped up in the moment to care though, and he focused all of his attention on the gorgeous woman that he was currently inside of.

“God... Damn... That... Pussy... Feels... Good...” Junho growled with each firm thrust into Ryujin. He had the idea to slow down for a minute; to kiss her, and to let her face him. He decided that it wasn’t the time for sensual love-making though. If there was too much consent on her part, perhaps the guilt would overwhelm her, and create more of a future obstacle. In time, he planned, she would get over that, and be completely his, but he had to navigate the waters carefully. In that moment, only raw, animalistic fucking was what she needed. He would continue to take her from behind and give her an experience she would never forget.

With that thought, he stopped pumping for a moment, and lifted himself onto his knees while rotating her body, resting upon her prone form. Ryujin whimpered as he pulled out of her, her thighs still twitching slightly. There was just enough moonlight to see that her entire bottom was coated in glistening juices. Her full, round ass looked immensely appetizing as he lined up his slimy cock with her swollen pussy. He entered her slowly at first, bottoming out and savoring the return of her warm, wet embrace. “Mmm... This slutty little body was made for big cock,” he grumbled as he squeezed her malleable cheeks. Junho adjusted himself into a push-up like position with his hands on her lower back, wrapping most of her narrow waist in his sizable grip.

Ryujin was still in such a daze that she was barely aware of Junho moving on top of her. She felt a sudden vast emptiness that longed to be filled again, and unintelligibly cried out for more as her body was pinned against the mattress under his considerable weight. Finally, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched around him returned, and she clamped her eyes shut to endure it. “Ohhhhfff... Yes!” The new positioning felt different somehow, and her pussy gushed at the new variety of stimulation. She felt a bead of sweat dribble down the bridge of her nose before it was launched onto the pillow as Junho bucked into her from behind. “Oh my GOD!” She clenched the fabric in desperation as her roommate’s big dick began pounding her again. The amount of force that was being exerted into her body was mind-blowing. She had never felt so engulfed in dominance, as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll to be fucked by this apex masculine creature. It awakened something primal in her, and she came again at the thought of it. “I’M CUMMM-OHHHH!”

“Fuck yes baby... Cum all over that big cock you slut!” Junho was giving it to her at a renewed pace, his pelvis crashing into her ass again and again. Her convulsing pussy felt so incredibly good, and he groaned through the ecstasy that her responsive body was dealing him. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upper body towards him, curving her flexible spine. He leaned back and continued to take her with him, her knees bending and bottom lifting off of the bed. With one hand on her luscious hip and the other still tangled up in her hair, he continued fucking his best friend’s girlfriend with all the strength he had.

Ryujin felt numb with pleasure from head to toe as her roommate had his way with her. It felt like she was being fucked through one long continuous orgasm, and she wanted it to never end. She was completely dumbfounded at the immense contrast between sex with her boyfriend, and the mouth-watering brutish treatment she was experiencing at that moment. Tae felt good inside of her, but she almost always needed some additional form of external stimulation to complement him. Junho, on the other hand, was a totally different feeling, and he was reaching places deep inside of her that had never been touched before. In addition to his ability to use his massive cock, the way he manhandled her and manipulated her body to suit him was an insanely hot turn on.

Junho admired Ryujin’s luscious figure beneath him. He couldn’t believe his luck at how deep she was able to take him in. He was penetrating her with his entire length, and it felt like the exact perfect fit. He was fucking her like a wild man, and she seemed to be loving every second of it. His heavy balls were constricting as they slapped repeatedly into her clit, and he began to feel that he was ready to burst. He slammed into her for the final few strokes he could manage before releasing a deep, satisfying roar and pulling out of her with a loud squelch. His throbbing cock instantly launched a thick, lengthy rope of semen that splattered against the back of her head and ran down the entire length of her spine. Another viscous strand was flung onto her, and several more followed, coating the young girlfriend’s backside in his sticky seed.

Ryujin moaned repeatedly as she felt her roommate climaxing all over her. She reveled in the dirty feeling of his cum forcefully blasting against her skin while her own orgasm still pulsed within her. He let go of her hair and her face slumped into the pillow, the sudden darkness only enhancing her sense of touch. The last two spurts splashed against her pussy directly, which felt titillating and erotic in a dangerous sort of way. She felt his shockingly heavy load pooling at the curved small of her back, and dripping down her ass cheeks. The thoroughly fucked woman remained still for a while with her plump bottom in the air, catching her breath while her head span aimlessly in a dense fog of ecstasy.

SMACK!

Junho’s wide palm brought her back to reality as he slapped her exposed cheek, sending beads of semen flying. She let out a girlish yelp that normally would’ve embarrassed her, but in that moment it was who she was. She was Junho’s fuck doll, and she felt far too satisfied to question it; more satisfied in fact, than possibly ever before. She collapsed into the soft mattress and felt him cover her with the blanket before passing out.

******

When Ryujin woke again, her brain felt clear and calm, but something about the lighting in the room felt off. She reached for her phone and felt a stab of panic as she realized she had slept in well past her usual rising time. Remembering she had the day off made the lateness of the morning less troubling, but there were several missed texts from Tae. She sat up, and the stinging soreness between her legs flooded her with memories of the previous night. She glanced over and was relieved to find that Junho had already left. She quickly swiped at her screen, fearing that her boyfriend had surely heard the debauchery. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” She cursed to herself, regretting how recklessly loud she had been. Her worries began to fade as she read his messages. He made no comments suggesting that he had any idea of what had transpired. He merely asked if she wanted to wake up and join him for some “Back to work” shopping.

As she peeled the blanket from her sticky body, she silently thanked the universe that Tae had not come to wake her in person. She twisted her torso to discover that she was still absolutely covered in her roommate’s drying cum. If her boyfriend had simply cracked the door open, the smell of the room alone would’ve been a dead giveaway. The stink of sex hung heavily in the air, a potent reminder of how intense the evening had been. Despite how physically sore and mentally conflicted she felt at that moment, the memories of the encounter and the evidence all over her skin was highly arousing. Her pussy was swollen and red, yet was already beginning to leak her sexual fluids. The feeling of Junho’s cock inside of her was not an easily dismissable thought, and the way he had taken her was nothing short of mind-blowing. Ryujin resisted the urge to touch herself, and instead jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

As the scalding water cleared the mess that Junho had left behind, Ryujin pondered her current predicament. Gone was the comfort that full-on, penetrative sex was still reserved for Tae alone, the last remaining pillar of her faithfulness in shambles. If only she had been able to summon the strength to prevent it. Then again, she thought, Did I even really have a say at all? HE fucked ME, and not the other way around. I was just trying to sleep. Ryujin’s mind rationalized the event for nearly an hour in the steamy bathroom, and she emerged ready to face the day.

She made plans to meet Tae at her clothing store to help him pick out some new outfits for work. They ended up spending the entire day out and about, and she did her best to bury any guilty feelings that arose intermittently. That night, Tae did not make a move to have sex, which quelled her fears that he would somehow be able to notice what Junho had done to her.

******

The next evening, Ryujin began to grow nervous as she would be joining her alluring roommate in bed, and didn’t know what to expect. They had only seen each other briefly in passing since he’d fucked her, and she had done a lot of processing since then without running it by him. She was going to attempt to reestablish some boundaries, but in the back of her mind, knew it was a nearly impossible challenge. When the time came, she kissed Tae goodnight, and entered Junho’s room with determination. He was sitting on the bed, fully naked, looking like a chiseled statue of peak masculinity. She felt a tingle in her pussy and his eyes on her while she walked around to her side and sat next to him, leaving her tiny elastic shorts on.

“So...” She started, not yet knowing which words to select. “We shouldn’t do that again...”

“Do what?” He grinned, brushing some hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“You know...” She could feel herself blushing. The physical contact from him in the space where he so recently had his way with her spawned a spark between her legs.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Junho said playfully. He knew it was a sensitive subject that required careful maneuvering.

“Okay, uhhh. But seriously, that stuff is dangerous. Like... It’s too good...” She admitted shamefully, dropping her chin.

He smiled at her, and tilted her head up with his finger. “Whatever you say.” He cupped her feminine jaw in his large hand, and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Her pussy gushed.

Ugh, why is he being all weird? Ryujin wasn’t sure what he was up to, but figured he was probably planning something. “We can still like... mess around and stuff. As long as we’re committed to ending all of this when we start paying rent again.” Her eyes dropped to his bare cock, which was slowly inflating to its full size. I can’t believe that fucking thing was inside of me.

Junho pressed his thumb against her lips, and eased it into her mouth. She responded by lightly sucking on it, becoming increasingly turned on by the second.

“Mess around, eh?” He asked calmly.

“Mhmm,” Ryujin nodded cutely in agreement while swirling her tongue around his finger, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation.

Junho gently removed his thumb from her mouth. “That’s okay. You’re right. Best not to push it. We should just go to sleep.”

“But-” She shot a glance at his massive erection, shocked by his sudden denial.

He lightly tapped her cheek with his palm. “Goodnight Ryujin,” he said, grinning, before turning away from her and switching off the light.

The young woman sat there in the dark, bewildered and horny, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn’t going to beg him to touch her, if that was the game he was playing. She did want him to though. Bastard... She accepted the turn of events and lay on her side to go to sleep.

After several minutes, just as she started to drift off, she noticed a rustling behind her. There was movement in her blanket, and suddenly her shorts were ripped all the way down her legs and clean off of her. Before she knew what was happening, she felt Junho’s large frame shove against hers, and his hands squeeze her chest. “Hey!” She thrashed against his hard body, instinctively fighting to get away from his trap. “Are you serious? We just-” Her breath was taken away as he shoved his hard cock straight into her without warning. She was still plenty moist, and her pussy welcomed his intrusion. “Anghhh!” The pleasure center of her brain was abruptly firing on all cylinders as he eased his way to her deepest reaches.

“Shhh... You’re still asleep, remember?” He whispered mischievously.

“Ngh... Oh fuck... Ohmmmy God... You fucking ass... Ooooh!” Ryujin moaned as quietly as she could, remembering that not much time had passed since she’d parted ways with her boyfriend, who was likely still awake in the other room.

“If you weren’t soaking wet for this, maybe I’d reconsider, but I need to give your body what it wants.” Junho’s big cock plunged in and out of her sopping wet hole at a calm, but steady pace, while he groped her covered tits. She gasped as he easily tore the flimsy fabric of her top into two pieces, exposing her jiggling breasts, before continuing to roughly caress her. Here she was once more, fully under his control, and powerless to stop the man’s aggressive assault. All she could do was hold on tight, and savor the delight of cumming on his fat dick over and over again. He made her feel so devilishly good, and she was secretly thrilled that he ignored her original protest.

Junho fucked her long and hard that night, albeit slightly more gently than their first session, knowing that her body was still adapting to him. His sexy roommate’s heart-shaped ass served as the perfect cushion to thrust against, and her soft moans into the pillow were music to his ears. Every time she came he would relish in the feel of her hot little body quivering beneath him while her tight pussy squeezed his cock. He finished in the same fashion as before, painting her exposed skin with his copious load before calling it a night. Ryujin was left panting, swimming in pleasure, and drifting off to a deeply satisfying slumber while drenched in his semen.

The following morning, she was the first to wake, and smirked at the realization that her roommate was still spooning her, fast asleep. She could feel his raging hard-on poking her butt, excited by the notion that they were apparently both still horny. She carefully shifted her body out of his embrace, and rotated him to be on his back. Ryujin threw her hair back, and lowered her face to his stiff erection. It smelled of sex, and she touched it with the tip of her tongue to sample the potent flavor of their combined juices. It was intoxicating, in the best way, and she licked it all over. She longed to straddle him and feel that thick cock sink into her needy pussy, but that would be too forward. She couldn’t allow herself to be the one to initiate sex with him, as that would erase the miniscule amount of innocence she had left. Instead, she took him into her mouth, and began sucking him lovingly.

Junho stirred, lazily opening his eyes to see his beautiful roommate with her lips around his dick. “Hoooohfff... Well good morning, you little slut,” he muttered, placing his hands behind his head. He let himself sink into the comfortable bed as he savored Ryujin’s warm mouth fervently sucking him off.

She popped him out of her mouth, slowly stroking his saliva-coated shaft with one hand. “Be quiet. I just need to take care of this before it gets you into trouble. Who knows what you would try to do to me...” She explained playfully.

“Good point. Unspeakable things, probably,” he flirted back. “Mmmm... Yesss. Right there...” He palmed her head and pushed gently in encouragement. She was bobbing her head enthusiastically while stroking the base of his cock with her soft hand. It felt amazing, and Junho relished in the glorious wake-up call that his friend’s girlfriend was giving him willingly.

“Jeez, don’t you ever run out of stamina?” She asked teasingly, taking a brief moment to catch her breath.

“Never. How else would I claim you for myself?” He chuckled, noting his dried cum on her shoulder.

“You wish,” she answered.

“Why don’t you cut the bullshit and climb on for a ride, sexy?”

“I can’t do that. You know I only have sex with my boyfriend.”

“Ohhh riiight.”

The pair exchanged knowing glances before she took him back into her mouth. Ryujin slurped and stroked his big dick diligently until he unloaded his balls down her throat while flexing his muscular thighs from the overwhelming pleasure. She drank all of his spunk down and sucked every last drop from the tip of his head. “Finally. Now we can get on with our day,” she rolled her eyes and smiled slyly, then got out of bed to collect her clothes. Ryujin scoffed at her ripped up shirt, and threw it at her roommate impishly. “Now I have to get to the bathroom topless, you jerk!”

Junho reached for his crumpled up t-shirt on the floor, and tossed it in her direction.

“Hmmpf!” She voiced defiantly, slipping the oversized garment onto her bare torso. She quietly opened the bedroom door, and peeked into the apartment’s living space to confirm that it was empty. Ryujin tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, and grabbed the cool door handle. Against all odds, she was greeted by Tae’s voice, emerging from his bedroom.

“Morning, babe.” He muttered sleepily, causing Ryujin to freeze in her tracks. “What are you wearing?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh... This? I dunno... Oh yeah. It’s Junho’s shirt,” she stammered, knowing it was too obvious of a fact to lie about. “I... spilled water on mine last night, and didn’t feel like walking all the way to my closet...” She could feel her cheeks turning crimson with guilt, but forced herself to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

“Okay...” Tae replied, clearly suspicious, and not particularly thrilled that his girlfriend was seemingly naked under his friend’s shirt.

Ryujin awkwardly forced a smile, and entered the bathroom hastily. God dammit, Ryujin... The guilt-ridden woman bathed herself, feeling badly that things had gotten so out of hand. Just minutes ago she was lovingly servicing Junho’s big cock with her mouth, and she had initiated it. When did I become such a fucking slut? Why can’t I control myself around that man? She could feel the aftermath of what he had done to her last night, as if he had rearranged her insides. Even now, amidst all of her shame and remorse, a filthy, nagging part of her brain wanted to fuck him again. There wasn’t any space to feel guilty while her mind was occupied fantasizing about her dominant roommate storming in there, shoving her up against the wall, and having his way with her.

******

There were two more Junho nights before Tae’s first day at the new job, and on both occasions, Ryujin was dripping wet before she even entered his bedroom. Her resolve to be good quickly fell apart, and she stripped all of her clothes off and placed them in a neat pile. She told herself that she couldn’t control what he would do, so she might as well not have her wardrobe ripped to shreds. While it did make sense to preserve her clothing, the more glaring reason was to entice the man to make a move, and provide the easiest access. She slipped under the covers and lay in her sleeping position.

“Don’t even think about it.” Facing away from him, she felt like bait, pretending to innocently go to sleep, and knowing that at any minute the big bad predator would be all over her. Her needy pussy leaked generously as she waited with anticipation for him to fill her. She never looked at him during the act, nor directly encouraged him, afraid to cross the line of “questionable consent” that they had established. She knew it was a dicey game to play, but worried that her guilt might reach the point of no return if she was fucking her roommate behind her boyfriend’s back as an outwardly willing participant.

After just a handful of rounds with him, Ryujin was becoming addicted to Junho’s cock. She found herself daydreaming about it constantly: the way it felt when it entered her for the first time each encounter, filling her perfectly; the manly aggression she was subjected to as it pummeled her insides, using her tight welcoming hole to get to the finish line; and the degrading but delicious sensation of being covered in the dominant man’s virile load while she lay there in the most vulnerable position.

When the time finally came and Tae announced that his initial day at work had gone well, Ryujin was relieved, though there was a part of her that didn’t want the agreement to end. Her boyfriend was all set to earn his first paycheck in two weeks, at which point there would no longer be any reason to sleep in Junho’s bed. She thought back to when her roommate had first proposed the arrangement. Mere months ago he shocked her with the wild suggestion, but it felt like ancient history. Her past self wouldn’t have been able to fathom what had become of her, but also was completely oblivious to the mind-bending pleasures that were possible.

She and Junho did not openly discuss the impending end date, but they both kept it in mind while carrying on with their routine. Ryujin continued to strip naked and let him have his way with her for each of their final nights together. Though they did the deed more or less in the same fashion each time, it grew no less exciting, and each of their forbidden encounters became the highlight of their day.

On the last night of the agreement, she resisted the urge to break the routine with some symbolic gesture, but Junho had other plans. After losing track of how many times he’d made her cum, she felt the familiar sensation of his cock swelling inside her to signal his orgasm had arrived. She waited in anticipation for him to pull out, but instead he thrust firmly into her again and held still, tightly clutching her hips to trap her against him.

“Oh fuck! Wh-What are you- OHHHH!” Ryujin moaned in ecstasy as she felt a warm jet of semen splash against her cervix. Her roommate’s wildly throbbing dick shot rope after rope of thick, sticky seed deep within her unprotected pussy. He groaned hoarsely and thrust in and out of her ever so slightly while draining his big balls into her. The feeling of Junho’s huge cock spraying its dangerous, heavy load at her deepest depths was quite possibly the hottest thing she had ever experienced. Already blissfully enjoying the way he dominated her, to have him seal the deal and lay claim over her womb took it to the next level. Her fertile young womb, which she had always taken such immense precautions to guard, was now being flooded with what she could only imagine was billions of very capable sperm.

It was as if Ryujin’s biology kicked into overdrive, and she helplessly quivered against her roommate as her brain was saturated in endorphins. Her pussy eagerly milked the ejaculating cock for all its worth, as she came in unison with him. It was exhilarating to think that her body was doing everything it could to soak up as much of his seed as possible, with an utter disregard for any consequences. Junho pumped jet after jet of his thick spunk for what felt like an impossible length of time. There was simply no space left in her stuffed cunt, and she felt the creamy substance overflowing and dribbling down her thighs.

“Unnnghhh... Take all of that cum you fucking slut. You’re mine now, do you understand?” Junho grunted, staying firmly planted within her as his big cock spurted the last few drops.

“Oh my God... Fuuuuck...” Ryujin couldn’t think straight, feeling wholly dominated and satisfied in the moment. “Yesss... Ngghhh... I’m your... Slut... Ohhh fuck... So much... Fucking... Cum. Give me it all...”

Junho finally broke the seal, pulling out of her and releasing the extraordinary pressure that had been built up inside of her. His gooey, pearlescent semen flowed out of her gaping pussy like lava. It was a shame for so much of it to go to waste, he thought, but was confident that it was only the first of many loads he would put inside of her. If he had learned anything about his roommate, it was that she was not going to be able to resist him for long, agreement or not. He moved to his spot but watched her delicate form intently. He felt nearly ready at that moment to confess that his feelings for her had blossomed into something more than just sexual desire. It would be better to wait though. He would give her a chance to realize herself that she wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were.

Ryujin collapsed onto the soiled sheets and basked in the post-orgasm glow, her upper back rising and falling as she caught her breath. As she drifted back down to reality, she recognized that she should be more concerned with the fact that Junho had finished inside of her, and that the massive pool of cum was still oozing out of her. She convinced herself that it was a problem to worry about tomorrow, and that tonight was for dwelling on pleasure only.

[hannieehaee]

18 + / mdi

content: boyfriend!mingyu & bf'sbestfriend!wonwoo, smut, afab reader, cucking (idk if this is the right term honestly), penetrative sex, mentions of oral, pov switches to wonwoo's pov like three paragraphs in, this is mostly wonwoo x reader ngl, etc.

part 2

wc: 3343

a/n: this is a continuation to mingyu's part of this reaction !!

masterlist

you'd known wonwoo for a good while now. being mingyu's girlfriend for over a year, you'd grown used to the company of his roommate, who was usually around whenever you'd go visit mingyu at their shared apartment.

it was easy to get along with wonwoo. he was an easy-going guy and also easy on the eyes, and just overall likable. you liked to think that the feeling was mutual, wanting to get along well with mingyu's best friend. you'd occasionally hang out one on one whenever you'd incidentally arrive to mingyu's apartment early, only to be let in by wonwoo. he was a gentleman, so he'd entertain you during mingyu's absence, telling you stories about the boy and at some points discussing shared interests with you.

what you didnt know was that wonwoo did like you. more than you wouldve hoped, actually.

wonwoo had known you for as long as mingyu, having been there when the two of you first met. the three of you had started off as simple acquaintances, up until mingyu decided he just had to have you, thus making you his. wonwoo had been happy for his friend, knowing mingyu to be a hopeless romantic at heart. yes, he admits, he mightve been attracted to you when you first met, but he quickly got over it upon finding out his best friend had a crush on you, even encouraging him to ask you out. having you in his immediate life proved to be interesting. it turned out that you two had a lot in common, with your personalities even aligning perfectly. that mightve explained why he was mingyu's best friend and you his best friend's girlfriend. mingyu clearly had a type.

over time, as wonwoo got to know you better, his long-gone crush seemed to want to make a comeback. what had previously been just physical attraction had turned into something more upon getting to know you. nothing ever happened to trigger his feelings, but there was only so much of your constant proximity that he could handle before his feelings resurfaced. which is where he now found himself. crushing on his best friend's pretty girlfriend, forced to occasionally join in on your dates as the perpetual third wheel.

despite any of his unreasonable emotions, he knew the feeling was not mutual, and more than that, he would never do that to his best friend. so, he did what any reasonable person would do and shoved his feelings deep within him, internally slapping himself any time his head went places it shouldn't. but that could only last so long.

it was a regular day. wonwoo had gone to the company, done his usual idol business and come back, now awaiting mingyu's arrival. except wonwoo was met with your presence instead. wonwoo had been expecting mingyu, remembering that he had told the boy about a movie they should watch together as soon as they had some extra down time. that day being today, now that they were finally back from promotions in japan and could go back to their regular schedules. he opened the door after hearing a few knocks, assuming mingyu mightve misplaced his keys again. except he was not met with his six foot tall friend upon opening the door, but instead you. it had been a while since he'd seen you. hell, it had probably been a while since mingyu had seen you. theyd just been so busy lately. he let you in, muttering a quick 'hello', avoiding eye contact a bit and stepping aside to allow you in. before he could close the door back up, you stopped him.

"oh, wait. gyu's coming up. he got us food for the movie!"

oh. had mingyu asked you to join?

his face mustve told on him, since you spoke up again almost immediately.

"is it okay im here? i can go, i know you guys are tired, i-"

the last thing he wanted you to feel was unwelcome. his stupid crush shouldnt get in the way of what was now a friendship between the two of you.

"no! stay, please. do you guys want privacy? we just came back, you must wa-"

this time you interrupted him. "no, not at all! stay, please. i love hanging out with you, nonu, you know that."

calling him by a cute nickname was not helping this for wonwoo, nor was the pretty smile you were throwing him. but he'd have to sit through an entire movie night like this, he realized.

the following thirty or so minutes went the way you'd imagine. mingyu had arrived soon after, with way too much food for three people and prepared the perfect setting for an enjoyable night between the three. wonwoo could tell his friend was beaming at the thought of finally spending a relaxing night with his two favorite people. this made him feel guilty, but he had to admit, he felt the same giddyness at the concept. in logical fashion, you and mingyu sat next to each other, slightly cuddled up while wonwoo sat on the smaller couch right next to the two of you. the three of you watched the movie for a little while, only ever speaking up every once in a while to comment on the movie. things went like this until mingyu suddenly spoke up, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something.

"won! i almost forgot!", he paused the movie, sitting up from leaning against you, "i told y/n id show her the pictures we took in japan, come here!", his friend seemed so overly excited at the idea, almost vibrating as be waited for wonwoo to come sit next to him.

wonwoo made the mistake of moving his eyes a little to the left while looking at his friend, only to catch your expectant gaze as you also waited for him to close the distance. but it was enough to get him to get up and take a close seat next to mingyu, making the tall man the only separation between you and him.

mingyu had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery and stopping every few seconds to explain where the picture was, who took it and why they had edited it the way they did. he explained every minor detail while you looked at him, full attention on him. wonwoo liked that about you. it was something you did when speaking to him too. you'd always show full interest, even sharing a passion for photography and editing as he did. there had been occasions in which wonwoo himself had shown you his photography, only to be always met with praise and genuine curiosity at his skill.

they both explained the pictures, with mingyu holding the phone at an angle where both you and wonwoo could see the screen perfectly. mingyu had full control of the phone, not thinking much as he stopped by every single picture and made a few comments, allowing space each time for wonwoo's own commentary and your praise of their skills. it was a heartwarming moment for wonwoo, really. until it turned into a moment that warmed something else in him.

mingyu, in his overexcited state, was clearly not thinking much of it as he swiped picture after picture, not realizing that if he scrolled too far, he'd end up where he was now.

it was a picture of you. a very pretty picture, if wonwoo had anything to say about it. you were laying in what he could only assume to be mingyu's bed, shirt off and very very cute sheer panties covering your lower half. your face wasnt in it, only your lips. but your body was practically on full display. wonwoo had to commend you for your artistic eye. that picture could cause any man to swim across the pacific ocean just to see the contents of it in the flesh. or at least thats how wonwoo felt in that moment. time felt frozen as he stared at the image. silence had filled the room as none of you reacted. until mingyu finally unfroze, locking his phone and throwing it on the table, cursing loudly at his mistake. but the damage had been done.

wonwoo felt ashamed at his current state. he couldnt look up, only staring down at his lap as he thought of the image that was now imprinted in mind. why did he have to see that? his crush on you was already getting out of hand. there was no way be could ever look you in the eye again. but his brain, once more, betrayed him. he looked up slowly, instantly meeting your gaze. you looked as flustered as he felt, eyes widened and cheeks flushed. fuck. your face reminded him of one he had seem before. a few months back when he'd accidentally bumped into you after what he couldve only assumed to be a night well-spent with his best friend, same flushed cheeks and widened eyes, except this time you were missing the disheveled look you had carried that time.

you and wonwoo seemed unable to break eye contact, with both your gazes becoming heavier by the second. what had felt to wonwoo like minutes of agony staring into your eyes were only a few seconds to mingyu, who immediately spoke up after having thrown his phone on the table.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry, i-" he had turned his body towards you, emphasizing how badly he felt at the position he put you under, but your eyes hadnt left wonwoo's, nor had his left yours.

you interrupted him, only breaking eye contact with wonwoo for a few seconds. "it's okay, gyu," your eyes now facing wonwoo again, "right, nonu?", your voice was sultry, only tightening up his pants even more than the initial shock of the image had.

"y-yeah."

mingyu seemed to catch on quickly after that, almost as if he'd been expecting this. he turned to his friend, still not 100% certain, "wonwoo. are you sure?"

there had been nothing wonwoo had ever been more sure about it. he broke eye contact with you for the first time in the past minute and responded, "yes."

~

"there's gonna be rules, okay?"

the three of you were now in mingyu's (and practically your) room, still fully clothed but all on the bed, already completely out of breath from the mere thought of what was about to happen. wonwoo felt like an animal. he felt himself have to put physical effort into holding back from jumping you. the way you'd been looking at him for the past while had him going insane, knowing now that the feeling was mutual.

"what are the rules?", wonwoo's eyes were still on you.

"any-" mingyu was about to speak when you interrupted him, still holding onto wonwoo's full attention.

"anything goes, except no marks and you have to be willing to share me. gyu's a bit possessive, right baby?", you stated matter-of-factly, almost in a rehearsed manner.

"wait. you've discussed this before?"

mingyu neared you, beginning to undress you from behind, giving wonwoo the perfect view of your clothing disappearing. 'we have. you're not exactly subtle, hyung.'

what? had you two known about his crush on you this whole time? he was so sure he'd kept it at bay almost expertly. had he just been embarrassing himself this whole time?

"its okay, nonu. we've discussed this. we're okay with it if you are. right, gyu?", you looked over your shoulder at the man who had now removed your shirt and shorts, leaving you in panties and a bra, much to wonwoo's dismay.

"i- are you sure? what does this mean? you-"

"hyung, dont over think it. you want her, dont you? you're my best friend, im willing to share."

well, what kind of fool would argue with that logic?

wonwoo decided to take advantage of the opportunity while it was there, approaching you as mingyu stepped aside, undressing his own self as he watched you and wonwoo.

wonwoo was entirely unsure of himself, not knowing how or where to begin. luckily for him, you seemed to take pity on him, grabbing his arms and placing them on your waist, pulling him closer to you.

"you dont have to be nervous. i want you too," you smiled sweetly at him, lifting his chin so he would look at you.

the proximity made him heat up, almost forgetting his friend, who had now sat down on the bed, perfect angle to watch him and you.

you leaned up slowly, lightly placing your lips on wonwoo's in a sweet peck. wonwoo sighed against your lips at this, letting his shoulders fall from their rigid posture and leaning against you, opening his lips a bit. you took advantage of this, meekly slipping your tongue inside his mouth as he tightened his hands around your waist, allowing his own tongue to play with yours.

kissing you was something he had imagined before; never too vividly out of respect for his best friend, but it was something he had wanted to do, never thinking he'd actually get to.

you and him kissed softly for a while, until you seemed to grow frustrated at the light kisses and began to incite him for more. your kissing became rougher, nibbling at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue, rendering him lightheaded. he moaned against your mouth, beginning to match your pase. he moaned even louder the moment he felt your hands guide his own to your breasts, which were now bare. when had you taken your bra off ..? it didn't matter, really. now he could feel the pebbles on your chest against his palms, pinching at them as you mewled softly into bis mouth. all that could be heard was the smacking of your mouths, along with the soft breaths you kept taking against each other, utterly pleased at the feeling of the softness of the other's lips.

until mingyu interrupted.

suddenly soft moaning could be heard from beside them. wonwoo reluctantly pulled away from you, looking to the side, only to find his best friend with his eyes closed, head thrown back as he had his hand under his boxers, clearly getting off at the sounds of the two of you. you didnt stop kissing wonwoo in the meantime, insistent on licking and biting softly against his neck. the softness of your touches was making wonwoo go insane. he was no longer himself, but more of a shell of what used to be, wanting to give you all control of his pleasure. which he did.

he allowed you to undress him slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his chest, kissing at him every time you uncovered a new bit of skin. you bit and licked at his nipples, making wonwoo discover a sensitive spot he didnt even know about.

he enjoyed your attentiveness, but felt a small tug in the back of his mind at the thought of your boyfriend sitting nearby, simply watching.

"gyu, baby," you finally said after having laid wonwoo down on the bed, sitting on top of him while looking to the side at your boyfriend, "how do you wanna do this?"

wonwoo simply sat there, afraid that if he said anything he'd break the spell. he was willing to take whatever you gave him. he was already addicted to the sight of your bare body on top of him, somehow beating the picture he had seen just twenty minutes ago.

"do whatever you want, baby. have your fun n then ill eat his cum out of you n fill you with mine, sound good?", he slurred, seemingly rubbing at himself at a snail pace in order to savor the sight in front of him.

in any other instance, wonwoo wouldnt have understood why mingyu was getting off at the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend fucking, but it was you. wonwoo would also give anything to see you in the throes of passion from a third person perspective, so he felt no judgement for his friend as he practically tuned him out.

"you heard him, nonu. how do you want me?", you asked sweetly, caressing his skin softly while stopping to rub at his nipples every once in a while.

wonwoo was fucked. he felt the ability to speak leave him completely. he was rendered completely useless, a doll for you to play with however you wanted. but his sight right now was one he wanted to commit to memory, so mustering all his willpower, he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, pressing you closer against him.

"like this, baby. please," that earned a whine from gyu, who was still self-inflicting the most painful pleasure imaginable by edging himself at the sight of you.

he humphed at wonwoo, "no! get a different pet name. shes my baby."

wonwoo chuckled at this, but nodded over at his friend. "fine. like this, princess. yeah?"

you nodded at wonwoo, quickly adjusting yourself so you could easily slip him inside you, but only after being interrupted by mingyu again, reminding you to slip on a condom, "because you were only his to fuck raw."

"gyu, baby. like this? have a good angle? need me to move?"

"no, baby. you're perfect. now bounce on him for me, yeah? wanna see my pretty girl feel good," all his words were slurred, going on almost ten minutes of watching yours and wonwoo's foreplay.

"'kay baby. are you ready, nonu? wanna feel me?", you leaned down to kiss at him again, seemingly loving the feeling of your lips connecting as much as wonwoo did.

he nodded, felling you up as be awaited the upcoming feeling of your warmth wrapping around him.

your descent drove wonwoo insane. he doesnt think he's ever moaned that loudly before, nor does he think he's ever seen a prettier sight than your blissed out face as you felt him fill you up. the contrast of your movements right now compared to your soft touches earlier was laughable. it seemed like something had possessed you, making you bounce and grind on wonwoo at an animalistic pace, moaning incessantly at the feeling of his cock filling you up.

wonwoo was different from you, as his reaction was just pure bliss from the feeling of you, humping upwards with a lack of rhythm; just animalistic instinct to get himself as deep inside you as possible.

mingyu could be heard moaning from the background. you'd occasionally disconnect your eyes from wonwoo's form to make eyes at your boyfriend, giving him even more material for jacking off.

it went on like this until you began to near your end, which is when wonwoo believes he went truly insane. you began to grind at an angle that would bring gratification to your clit, practically crying on his cock. your hands went up to play with your nipples, stimulating yourself as much as possible. wonwoo wanted nothing more than to make you meet your end, grabbing harsher onto your hips and guiding your movements. he leaned up to kiss and suck at your tits, making you throw your head back and quicken your movements even more. you were in heaven and so was he. mingyu seemed to be too, as when wonwoo peeked a look at him he was practically crosseyed at the sight of you, arched back whining on his friend's cock.

your ends found you almost simultaneously. mingyu had been first, finally allowing himself to reach his high after edging himself for so long. soon followed wonwoo, spilling into the condom, causing you to cum at the sight of his pleasure. it took a bit for all of you to catch your breaths, staying silent for a bit until wonwoo broke the silence.

"shit. please tell me this isnt a one time thing."

you and gyu giggled at each other. wonwoo hoped that was a good sign.

a/n: lol lmk if u want a cont. with gyu's part

[v-hope]

glad you’re missing TF bc me too, i wanna see them finally settling and knowing they’re ready for the next big step in their lives or even just discussing building a family after grad or when they’re at a good stage in their careers🥺🤧

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: slight angst, flufffff, established relationship, non-idol au

warnings: pregnancy scare, mentions of condoms, mentions of unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: um. hello after years lolll. i started going through very old requests in my ask box yesterday in case i found anything that’d bring some inspiration to my very uninspired self, and i found manyyyy tiger flower ones and this one in particular reminded me of a headcanon of mine that i never wrote nor mentioned (i think) but for some reason it was??? an actual Thing???? in my mind????? so yeah lol here i am. i don’t think anyone even cares about tiger flower (minus one person. u know who u are<3) anymore, BUT fuck it, i missed them and enjoyed writing this. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it too, bye<333

A pregnancy scare wasn’t something you were expecting only two months into moving in together after your graduation. It wasn’t something you were expecting at all.

At most, you and Jeongguk had agreed on getting a puppy as a new addition to your family of two. Said discussion happened when the two of you had only been together for a few months, a little over a year ago, where you both agreed on moving in together after you graduated college and then get a puppy right away.

Moving in together was not up for debate — you knew so the moment Jeongguk got a job in the last year of college and so did you, saving enough money to get a decent place and looking for apartments throughout the entire year, so you could secure a lease as soon as your previous ones ended. On the other hand, although you were still excited as hell to get a dog, once you were settled in your shared place, you were both too busy and overwhelmed trying to keep up with your new jobs and all the new changes in your lives to even think of adding another responsibility on top of them all, let alone one that had to do with a living creature.

If neither of you felt ready to get a puppy yet, how the hell were you supposed to raise a child?

Your heart beat so fast against your chest, you felt like you would pass out any moment, as you paced around the bathroom while you waited for the pregnancy test to tell you whether you’d bring another human being to the world in nine more months or not. Endless thoughts running through your mind as you did so, and you internally cursed at yourself for not having waited outside with Jeongguk instead — God knows you needed his arms around you to bring you comfort.

You definitely needed Jeongguk to hold you, you realised the second the alarm you set as soon as you took the test finally went off, managing to somehow turn it off with your shaky hands, and fighting not to drop your phone as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before taking a look to the test on the sink.

Once you earned enough courage to finally open your eyes and focus them on it, you exhaled all the air you didn’t know you were holding up until then — instant relief washing through your body.

Negative.

You were given another chance not to raise a child when neither of you were ready.

And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, empty even, now that said possibility was out of the way.

Although it was not the right time, a family with Jeongguk was something you’d always be happy about — and something you were only now realising you longed for way more than you thought you did.

Coming out of the bathroom and meeting a very distressed Jeongguk waiting right outside the door, you shook your head no right away, just like that letting him know you were on the clear this time around.

He let out a heavy, shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he processed the news, before he pulled you into his arms like you so badly needed him to — melting into his familiar touch and inhaling his scent as you felt yourself begin to calm down.

He said nothing, you said nothing. Your arms around one another and feeling each other’s comfort were all you needed right then.

Jeongguk didn’t let go until he felt your body stop trembling, only pulling away enough to rest his forehead on yours and cup your face in his warm hands.

“You okay?” He wondered; for a change, not being able to tell what the expression on your face meant right then.

He genuinely didn’t know whether you were relieved or not. And, therefore, he didn’t know how to react to the news. Yes, he had sighed in relief a minute ago, but that was as much as he’d let himself express until he knew how you felt about the whole situation.

You nodded, still a little bit stunned — not knowing whether you should say what was on your mind. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one in front of you, holding you. You knew you could tell him anything and he would understand, or at least try his best to do so.

“Is it wrong that I feel a little bit disappointed?” You finally mumbled, catching his attention. “I mean, I know we’re not ready, and we haven’t planned it at all and I would be so fucking terrified had it turned out positive, but, I just…”

“I get it,” he stepped up when he realised you wouldn’t talk anymore, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his. “Of course I’m relieved we’re not having a baby right now, but… a part of me really wants to start a family with you now”.

“Now?” You playfully raised an eyebrow.

“Not now,” he panicked. “But, I mean, in the near future, but not that nea—ugh, you get it”.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle, biting your lip when he rested his head on your shoulder, embarrassedly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know,” you reassured him, running your thumb on the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to start a family with you either. It’d be cute, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded — one hundred percent on board with it, yet pensively.

Up until that day, you hadn’t really discussed your future together. It was more of a given. Unspoken, but you both knew you wanted everything with each other. From moving in together, to getting married, to having kids, to growing old together.

Maybe it was finally time for you to actually bring those thoughts up.

“What do you think is a good age for us to start trying?” Jeongguk wondered, his voice gentle as ever.

You puckered your lips as you pondered your options. “I mean, we’re only twenty three this year… Maybe in another two or three more?”

“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “We still need to get the hang of living together on our own…”

“Getting a puppy…” you added.

“Save some money” Jeongguk considered.

“Get a bigger place”.

“Get married”.

You smiled at his addition, feeling the by now very familiar butterflies fill your stomach. Reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, you sweetly ran your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna marry me?”

“I am marrying you, Y/N” he confidently stated, only to feel his cheeks burn the next second when he caught the way your eyes lit up. “I mean, if you’ll take me, of course…”

You giggled once again, this time throwing your head slightly back as you rejoiced at the new bit of information your boyfriend had just provided you with. “I am marrying you so hard one day, Jeon Jeongguk”.

He beamed, giggling against your mouth as he searched for it and trapped your bottom lip in between his smiling ones.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh of your own, wrapping your arms around his neck when he held you up by your thighs and took you to the sofa only a few steps away in your living room — not letting go of you for a second as he carefully lied on his back with you on top of him.

Lying your face comfortably on his chest, and running your fingertips up and down on it, you let out a contented sigh.

“So, kids sometime after we’re twenty six?” You returned to your previous conversation, before you got carried away by your desire to spend the rest of your lives together.

He hummed in response. “We should already have achieved all our previous goals by then, so I think it’s the most reasonable”.

“After twenty six it is then” you settled, smiling brightly when he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers. “How many would you like?”

“Two or three would be nice,” Jeongguk confessed. “I’m okay with as many as you’re willing to have, though”.

“I always thought two… a girl and a boy” you admitted, feeling him smile against your head. “But I wouldn’t mind having three of them with you” a smile curved up your lips at the simple thought.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Two girls and a boy, or two boys and a girl…”

“What if it’s three girls?” You looked up at him.

“That’d be nice” he smiled.

“And if it’s three boys?”

“That’d be nice, too”.

“Mhm…” you squinted your eyes, suspiciously staring into his. “You want at least one girl so bad, Jeon Jeongguk”.

“I didn’t say that?” He defended himself.

“I can see it in your eyes” you playfully poked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, tightening his hold on your hand to stop you from poking him again. “Well, sue me for wanting a mini version of you”.

Your heart melted, and you were pouting before you knew it. “I want a mini bun, too”.

“Too bad, we’re only having three girls now” he teased.

“Shut up,” you whined, slumping your face back down on his chest. “You just created a new need for me”.

Jeongguk’s chest trembled as a blissful laugh escaped his lips, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you almost found it hard to breathe. You would never complain about it, though, let alone when his lips began to pepper kiss after kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he said. “And honestly I’ll be happy with whatever sex they are as long as they’re ours and we raise them together”.

His words brought tears to your eyes and a lump in your throat, being apparently still too sensitive over the whole situation not to feel like crying when he said the most reassuring words you needed to hear.

“You’re gonna make me cry” you let him know, looking up to meet his doe eyes once more. “But I’ll be the happiest as long as that’s the case, too”.

Jeongguk smiled timidly, gently pushing your chin slightly up for your lips to come in contact with his; pressing a soft kiss on them before his arms were once again tightening their hold around your waist.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, nuzzling your hair.

“What for?” You questioned.

Jeongguk shrugged, fingers drawing small circles on your back. “For putting you through this…”

You chuckled, burying your face in his neck. “It takes two to make a child, bunny. Which we didn’t get to make, by the way”.

“I know,” he pouted, holding you somehow tighter against his body. “But last time I was too horny to go get a condom”.

You snorted. “Nothing we haven’t done before. We just tested our luck for the hundredth time and it backfired on us for once”.

Although you weren’t looking at him right then, you knew a pout had just formed on his bottom lip. You tenderly kissed his chest, in hopes of making the sad look on his pretty face go away.

When you felt him be distraught still, you decided to switch the mood a little bit.

“Still, I did have the scare of my life, so we’re going on a sex strike for a bit”.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, pulling you up by your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “You’re not serious”.

“I am” you stated, trying your best not to allow your lips to break into a smile. “One month at least”.

“At least?!”

“Aren’t you the one who went twenty one whole years without having sex?” You raised a teasing eyebrow. “This should be nothing to you”.

“Petal…” he whined, hiding his face in your neck. “It’s not the same now”.

“Why not?”

“Because I got a taste of it with you two years ago and I can’t control myself around you now, you know it”.

“Sucks to be you” you shrugged. “One month starting today”.

Letting out a defeated cry that could only have you finally releasing the laugh you managed to hold for so long, he rested his head back against the couch.

“Can this month end already”.

“So you’re just accepting your fate?” You were the one in disbelief now. “You won’t even try to convince me otherwise?”

“No, it’s up to you” he said, closing his eyes as he threw an arm over them. “If you don’t want me to touch you then I’ll just keep my hands to myself and suffer in silence”.

You half cooed, half laughed, not having expected such a touching answer to your playful question. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one you were dating; you should know better by now.

Removing his arm from his face, you pressed a brief kiss on his nose. “I love you, bun” you ran your fingers through his hair. “As if I’d be able to go a whole month without jumping your bones”.

“Now don’t say it like that” he laughed, throwing one of his legs over your body and making you lie on your sides now.

Properly face to face now, you cupped his cheek and gently caressed it as you rested your forehead on his. “Give me two weeks tops to shake the fear off my body?”

He nodded, lovingly bumping his nose on yours. “As long as you need me to”.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie lowered his guard during a late night conversation, revealing crucial details about his past. But was it enough for you to reciprocate? (4.3k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, brief mention of neglect, brief mention of sex work, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine

If convincing Eddie to take the job wasn’t enough of a struggle, you still had to explain the situation to your parents.

Hi Mom and Dad, I invited a guest to help fix up the motel. The same one who stole a blanket–but don’t worry, I got it back. Oh, and he’ll be staying here for free.

They were understandably taken aback by your decision, especially without consulting them first, but you’d mustered up a strong argument: Eddie was young, he was easy to get along with, and he showed a basic sense of personal responsibility. Not to mention that the place could certainly use the repairs; peeling wallpaper was just the tip of the iceberg. Lightbulbs needed to be replaced, carpets needed to be scrubbed, and the outside of the building desperately needed to be power washed. 

“Plus, summer break doesn’t start for another few weeks,” you hastily added. “We won’t need to worry about renting out Eddie’s room until then.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at the newfound ascription—not room four, but Eddie’s room—but said nothing, only looking at your father for his seal of approval. 

He breathed out, long and low, trying to do the calculations in his head. Your heart flip-flopped when his gaze dropped to the ground, his signature move when he was about to tell you no. 

“If he doesn’t help out, he can’t afford to stay here anyway. It’s not like we’re losing money if he keeps the room for a bit.” You winced at the slight whine in your voice, the opposite of the infallible exterior you’d wanted to present. 

Dad laughed, not unkindly, but belittlement panged in your chest nonetheless. “Except for the water, air conditioning, and electricity he uses,” he pointed out, ticking off each item on his fingers. “Unless he plans to only sit in the dark, sweat, and never shower.” He sighed as unmistakable disappointment weaved into your eyes and filled them with tears. 

Now you’d have to tell Eddie that the offer was off the table, that he was shit out of luck, that you’d let him down. You never should’ve opened your big mouth in the first place. Captain Save-the-World, except you only ever made things worse. If you wore a cape, it would get snagged on tree branches each time you tried to fly.

“You have a good heart,” Mom spoke up, trying to nurse your wounded feelings, “but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.” She glanced at Dad again, her mouth set in a straight line. “Maybe we can discuss this further.”

You fought to ignore the hope that bloomed from her words, but the corners of your mouth turned upwards before you could rein it in. “Thank you,” you murmured, offering them both a grateful smile. 

People called you a ‘bleeding heart,’ teasing you about your constant attempts to solve problems beyond a reasonable scope. At last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, your uncle had informed you—unprompted—that he would never vote for you for President because “you’d just give all my money to the poor.”

While your parents were more realistic with their goals than you were, they did their best to encourage your compassionate spirit; there was no doubt that you got your sense of morality from them. After deliberating on Eddie’s fate for a few hours, they had finally relented—with one stipulation. 

“Your mother and I are not going to supervise him, so he’ll have to work night shifts with you,” Dad had said sternly. 

“Really?” You clapped your hands in celebration. “Thank you! I mean, um, Eddie thanks you.”

Dad gave your shoulders a quick squeeze; it was his version of you’re welcome. “Yeah, well.” He played it cool, keeping his tone breezy. “It’ll be good practice for when you take over the place.”

You’d nodded in response, your insides twisting in a clashing mix of excitement and shame. Eddie wouldn’t have to live on the street, but it required you to continue lying to your parents. 

I’ll tell them the truth once Eddie finds a real job and gets his own place. I can only handle one crisis at a time. 

That was how you’d found yourself spending your Tuesday evening with Eddie Munson. The motel was otherwise empty, save for your parents, a middle-aged trucker in room 7, and Phyllis in her usual digs.

You and Dad had spent the end of his shift covering the floor with giant flimsy drop cloths. They hadn’t been used in years, evidenced by the thin layer of dust that coated them when you’d dug them out from the back of the supply closet. You’d tried your best to shake it all off but instead sent yourself into a sneezing fit. 

Eddie sauntered into the lobby at a quarter after ten. Gray sweatpants sagged at his waist, the drawstring noticeably missing from the elastic band, and his white cotton undershirt had a tan stain that spread across his left pec. 

“Coffee,” he explained with a shrug, rolling a hair tie off of his wrist and pulling his curls into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He looked at you blankly and waited for you to instruct him, but you had already dove into your schoolwork. “Um, is there a ladder? Tools?” He pursed his lips and scanned the room with indifference.

“Oh! Right, yeah.” You could have smacked yourself for not having everything set up for him. “We don’t have a ladder per se, but this step stool should work fine.” You pulled it out from behind the desk along with a scoring tool, a spray bottle filled with a vinegar and water solution, and a putty knife. “I also grabbed the clock radio from my room if you wanted to listen to some music. Might help pass the time.”

Eddie nodded, watching carefully as you switched the radio on and tuned the dial to a Top 40 station. He shook his head the moment the electric beat of Haddaway’s “What is Love” played through the tinny speakers.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a scoff, dropping the supplies right where he stood, footsteps heavy even with the cloth underneath him. Without another word, he spun the knob past the static until the sound of an electric guitar crackled through. He bobbed his head a few times, finding the rhythm. “This’ll do.” 

“Not a Eurodance fan?”

His back was turned to you as he returned to the task at hand which left him unable to see the sarcastic smirk you sported. “Fuck no.” He stepped up on the tool and began cutting into the old wallpaper, puffing out an irritated laugh. “I can’t believe—scratch—you voluntarily—scratch—listen to that–scratch–shit.” His biceps flexed with each flick of the blade in a consistent rhythm. 

Drumming your fingernails on the desk, you twirled your pen in your free hand as you reread your own handwriting. You’d stayed at the library and filled notebook pages with bullet points about early childhood development until a squirrely librarian kicked you out at closing time. The choppy sentence fragments begged to be fleshed out into a fully-formed essay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus.

Write words. Make edits. Add a comma. Do something, anything, dammit.

Almost an hour passed without you making an iota of progress on your paper. The words swam on the page until they just looked like inky squiggles with no real meaning, your brain blank as if you’d never written anything in your life. Cool air tickled your nose as you exhaled through your lips. Why couldn’t you just concentrate?

“It’s this music,” you muttered to yourself, too low for your company to hear. Your temples throbbed with frustration, and you reached over and snapped back to the previous station. 

Eddie’s head whipped around at the sudden change, frowning when he heard pop music instead of the metal that had just been playing. “Seriously?” He leaned one hand on the wall and threw the other up in exasperation. 

“Yes, seriously,” you bit back, teeth clenched in annoyance. “I can’t focus on my writing with that on.”

Eddie grumbled something unintelligible but went back to work, the scratching serving as a strange backdrop to the song. 

Janet Jackson faded out to a too-chipper deejay. “You folks know what time it is!” His voice reminded you of old-school toothpaste commercials, over-exaggerated and unnaturally polished. “That’s right; it’s time for Rad or Retch—where I play a song from a new artist, and you call in and let me know whether you think it’s rad or if it makes you wanna retch!” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, adding an exasperated “Jesus H. Christ,” under his breath. 

“This one’s called ‘Watch Me Leave’ by Death’s Echo, a grunge group from—”

The announcement came to an abrupt end as Eddie nearly leaped from the stool to the desk and yanked the plug out of its socket. The two-pronged head hit the floor with a soft thud. 

“Hey!” Your eyes widened in confusion and then disbelief, flickering over to where he stood. You expected him to wear a scowl that matched your own; instead, he looked like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, and you took a step back. “Whoa, you okay?”

Eddie tensed the moment he detected your sympathetic tone, shoulders pinched and jaw rigid. “‘M fine.” He pressed the heel of his left hand atop his right knuckles until they cracked. “Sorry.” He bent down and gently plugged the cord back into the wall, but you immediately flicked the power button to the off-position. 

It was silent for a full minute, save for the scorer against the wall and the scratch of pen on paper. When Eddie finally spoke, his voice was so soft that you barely heard it.

“That was my band.”

Confusion creased your brows. You set down your pen and stole a glance at him. His body remained facing the wall, but he was no longer working, hands lamely at his sides. “What?”

“Death’s Echo was, uh,” he shook a rogue curl from his eyes, “that was my band.”

“Oh.” Awkwardness seeped into the room and filled every crevice as you wracked your brain for a suitable response. “But…not anymore?”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Nope.” The p sound popped softly as though signaling the discussion’s end, but there was a pregnant pause before he started removing the wallpaper again.

“Why not?” The question sprang from your tongue, curiosity getting the best of you.

A hesitant chuckle accompanied his sigh. “I thought you didn't make small talk with strangers.” He climbed back on the step stool and ripped off a strip of paper.

“I thought we weren’t strangers anymore,” you quipped back, not missing the smile that ghosted his lips.

“Fair enough.” Eddie conceded easily, not at all angry to be proven wrong. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared up at the yellow-tinged lighting overhead before slicing into the wallpaper. “Sometimes you think you want something, but it turns out to be a steaming pile of horseshit.” The last word was punctuated by a grunt, and the last panel of wallpaper fluttered to the ground. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell.”

You nodded in agreement despite an obvious lack of knowledge.

“They sign your band,” he continued, aiming the spray bottle nozzle at the wall and pulling the trigger, “and you think it’s because they like you. Or at least your music, your sound, whatever.” He wrinkled his nose as he got an unexpected whiff of the vinegar solution’s pungency. “But you’re really just a front for whatever they want to sell. Which, apparently, is grunge.” 

You had too many questions. They probably referred to record producers or agents or some other bigwigs, you surmised, but what did they do that made Eddie so cynical? 

That was far too loaded to ask, at least in that moment, so you opted for a more humorous follow-up. “You mean it wasn’t all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll?” you joked, but Eddie didn’t share in your lightheartedness. 

“At the beginning, when we first got signed, yeah.” His brown eyes exuded wistfulness, remembrance of better times. He blinked twice and snapped himself out of it. “We put out a few albums that didn’t completely flop, I guess. And we were the opening act on a couple of tours. Got a good chunk of money in the bank.”

That explained the Calvin Klein underwear he was wearing on that first night. You capped your pen and leaned in, trying not to be overly inquisitive but unable to contain yourself. “So…what happened?” What led you here?

“We get called into a meeting, and we’re all thinking that the label’s gonna tell us we’re headlining, right? Maybe not, like, The Garden, but bigger venues than we usually played. But, uh…” he trailed off and rubbed the tip of his nose with an open palm, “it was an ultimatum: shift from metal to grunge, or get dropped.”

You listened intently as Eddie relayed the ordeal. The label executives had cited the increasing popularity of Nirvana and Pearl Jam along with decreasing interest in heavy metal bands. “Cobain’s selling; Ozzy isn’t,” they’d explained. If Death’s Echo wanted to play to packed arenas and have their music on mainstream radio, they had to adapt to the times.

“I told them we weren’t sellouts and to kiss my ass,” Eddie said to you, huffing out an annoyed breath. “But the rest of the band didn’t give a shit about that; if those suits told them to jump, they’d say ‘how high.’ So, I quit and waited for them to come crawling back.” 

He didn’t elaborate after that. He didn’t need to. Because if they’d done as Eddie had hoped, he wouldn’t be performing manual labor just to live in a struggling motel, basking in the gloominess that he wore like a second skin.

“If you could go back and do it differently, would you?” You grimaced at your own intrusiveness. “Sorry, that was—”

“It’s fine.” Eddie didn’t give an answer right away, his teeth grating against his lower lip. “Y’know, I’d like to say no, but losing your record deal, your apartment, your girlfriend, your so-called ‘friends,’ and every nice thing you own can make a guy kinda cynical.”

Girlfriend?

It was far from the most dire item on that list, but it needled at you. Maybe it was the mental image of Eddie watching everything get taken from him and then adding heartbreak on top of it all. 

“How about you?”

His voice yanked you from your thoughts and had your heart in your throat. “Huh?”

“You. Your whole deal.” He gestured at you with the scraper. “Why you’re always doing homework like a little nerd.” You couldn't detect a note of taunting in his teasing, only playfulness, just as it had been that very first night. 

You scowled for only a second before a smile broke through. “Don’t you have wallpaper to remove?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh. “I see how it is: when it’s my shit, I’m free to talk. But when it’s your shit, I’m a lowly employee.” He held up both hands in mock surrender. “My deepest apologies, Heiress.”

You didn’t bother to argue, choosing instead to pivot to a new subject altogether. “How long does this take, anyway?” Walking out from behind the desk to inspect his work, you ran your finger down the wall. Once you got past the stench of vinegar, he was actually doing a pretty good job.  

“You think you could do better?” He saw your gentle ribbing and upped the ante, holding out the putty scraper as if saying, be my guest.

Plucking it from his grasp, you smirked and chose a spot right at eye level. Challenge accepted. 

Though the glue had softened considerably, removing it still required decent muscle. You put your bodyweight into it and pushed through the resistance, but you only managed to pull off a little bit. 

You heard Eddie laugh through his nose as he stood behind you, watching you struggle. “Harder than it looks, huh?” He ignored your middle finger and stepped a half-inch closer. “Let me help.”

One calloused hand dwarfed yours, his fingers wrapping around where your fist held the scraper. The other found purchase on the bicep of your free arm where your T-shirt’s cuff met skin, stabilizing without entrapping you. You could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted. 

You stayed there. 

He tightened his grip around yours and made short, downward strokes, admittedly taking off far more glue than you had. “There ya go,” he murmured. His breath was warm on your neck, gooseflesh rising when he spoke. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just like that.”

Butterflies beat their wings in your stomach, a result of the unexpected proximity compounded by an unmet need for connection that starkly contrasted the night shift’s normal solitude. A loose tendril of his hair tickled against your ear, and the realization of how close your bodies actually were shattered whatever spell had been cast. 

Eddie pulled away quickly, the air cooling where his hand once rested. Did he also feel that sudden loss of contact, or was it all in your head?

With a shaky breath, you stepped aside and silently returned the tool to him. “Should probably leave this to the expert,” you muttered, forcing nervous laughter. “I have to get back to writing anyway.”

His eyes bored into you as you walked back to the desk, but neither of you said another word. You glanced over at him every so often, noting the perspiration dampening his collar and under his arms as he toiled away at the glue and wished you had a water bottle to offer him.

Maybe next time. 

You got halfway through the first body paragraph when Eddie spoke again.

“You’re really not gonna talk?”

You looked up to see him swipe his forearm along his brows as he shot you a tired grin.

“We just had a whole conversation,” you pointed out, returning your attention to your essay. 

“About me,” he said. He wiped his palms on his pants, leaving behind a sweaty print, and traipsed over to you. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re either going to school or coming back from school or doing work for school…” 

You shrugged, no big deal. “Okay, yeah, I go to school.”

“For what?”

Shit. “Hospitality and hotel management.”

“Really.” Eddie leaned over and snatched up your paper. You reached out to grab it back, but it was too late. The bridge of his nose scrunched as he read the opening paragraph to himself. “Doesn’t look like hospitality to me.” Amusement raised his brows. “Care to explain?”

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt strangely obligated. He’d confided in you, so you should at least moderately indulge him. 

“Fine,” you relented, “I’m studying psychology.” That might have been the first time you’d ever said those words aloud in the motel lobby; it was oddly freeing. 

Eddie nodded and continued to scan the paper. “You wanna be a shrink?”

“Social worker.” 

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough gig. Especially if you’re working with kids.” He shook the essay pages for emphasis. 

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right.” He shoved one hand in his pants pocket. “What made you decide to be a social worker?”

You breathed out a laugh. “You want the easy answer or the real one?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “Real one. Always.” He returned your essay and rested his un-pocketed hand on the desk. Inquiring eyes beckoned you to continue.

With less trepidation than you’d anticipated, you tell him the story of that fateful day in the summer of 1987, just two years after you’d graduated from high school.

You were still working the afternoon shift, and summer break brought its usual influx of guests. People came and went in blurs of luggage, but there was one particular patron who had made her presence known.

“Hi!”

You peered over the desk to find the source of the lively greeting. A young girl, no older than five, stared back at you, syrupy grape stickiness surrounding her lips. The cause was most likely a popsicle, as evidenced by the purple stained stick clenched in her right hand.

“Um, hi,” you said with a smile that was, for the first time in a long while, not encased in customer service insincerity. “What’s your name?” And where did you come from?

Unfazed by your bewilderment, she introduced herself as Izzy and asked you if you wanted to play. “We just have to stay here, or else my mommy will get mad,” she explained with urgency.

You nodded slowly, sorting through the information without raising any alarm. “And where is your mommy?”

Izzy’s hazel eyes darted back towards the hallway. “In our room. She’s with a friend so I can’t go in.” She dropped her voice to what she considered a whisper, but it was still clear as day. “Her friend is a boy.”

Your stomach turned. Of course. Instead of watching her child, this mother was probably shooting up with her boyfriend of the week. 

“I can’t play right now, but you can sit here with me until your mommy and her friend come back out,” you said. “I have paper and pens if you wanna draw.”

This satisfied her, and she plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. That day hadn’t been particularly hectic, so you obliged and sat.

“What’re you gonna draw?” Izzy asked, reaching for a blue pen. You didn’t have time to answer before she proudly announced, “I’m gonna draw a flower. Do you like flowers?”

“Mhm.”

Izzy smiled as she surrounded a circle with swirling loops. “You can draw a flower, too. Maybe a rose. Or a sunflower!”

Her excitement at the latter option was all you needed. “Sunflower it is, Miss Izzy.” You drew a circle of your own and filled it with a cross-hatched pattern, curating pointed-tipped petals around it. 

“D’you have crayons?” she asked, not looking up from her own flower.

You put down your pen and offered a pitying frown. “No, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. You should get some, though. ‘Cause you can draw prettier flowers with crayons.” 

The two of you stayed on the floor for ten minutes. All the while, she quizzed you on your favorite color, animal, food, and TV show. She was halfway through a heated explanation of why Friend Bear was superior to Share Bear when a frantic voice called out her name. 

“Mommy!” Izzy practically flew into her mother’s arms. You watched as the woman’s entire body sagged in relief, pulling her daughter in close. A man trailed behind her, discreetly zipping up his fly and walking out the front door. 

“Izzy, I told you to sit in the hall and eat your ice pop,” her mom gently scolded, words muffled by her lips being pressed to Izzy’s scalp. 

Izzy scrunched her nose in confusion. “But I finished it.” She pointed at the empty stick, now on the ground where she’d been sitting, as proof. In true childlike fashion, she jumped to a new topic without waiting for the first conversation to conclude. “Mommy, you wanna see what I drawed?”

“Of course, baby.” She easily feigned excitement as Izzy presented her with a series of scribbles that were meant to be various flowers, people, and farm animals. “Wow! I think you’re gonna be an artist one day.”

The little girl continued chatting, blissfully unaware of the panic she’d inadvertently caused. Her mom allowed herself to look away for just a moment to glance at you, mouthing a tiny “thank you” and blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“And…I don’t know,” you lamely supplied as you wrapped up the story. “I guess I realized that I had all of these assumptions, this sort of preconceived notion that this woman was a deadbeat parent, but she obviously loved Izzy more than anything.” You picked at your thumbnail nervously. “No one should have to sell their body for money just to survive. She deserved better than that.” 

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything you’d thrown at him. “And you wanted to help her,” he finally said.

“Yeah.” You thought back to the way her gaze simultaneously held gratitude and guilt. Her daughter was safe, but she knew that this was not the final time she’d be in this predicament.

The experience had awakened a realization in you: working at the motel was never your dream, but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly. You weren’t left to navigate the world on your own. Independence was a privilege, not a mandate.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie broke in, “I think you’ll be a great social worker someday.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice and slipped back to the awaiting task; despite insisting that you talked to him while he worked, he hadn’t touched any of the tools while you spoke.

Your smile was a thank you, and you tuned the radio back to the metal station Eddie had chosen earlier. He didn’t say anything else, but you noted the subtle tap of his toe against the drop cloth.

Eddie worked for a few more hours until he’d stripped the wall of all paper and glue. “All right,” he said, balancing the step stool on two fingers. Sleepiness softened his own smile, all lips and no teeth. “Let me know when the new wallpaper comes in. You, uh, know where I live.”

“Will do.” Your thumb absently grazed against the words you’d just written, smudging them. You rubbed at the black ink seeping into your skin, silently chastising your own carelessness. “Good night, Eddie.”

He stretched and scratched at the U-neck of his collar, exposing a sliver of chest hair. 

“Sweet dreams, Heiress.”

--

taglist:

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not putting a bell on my cat?

Cw for discussion of animal death and injury in vague terms.

So I live in a neighborhood with a lot of stray/outdoor cats. In fact, it's sorta that way all over the city. A few weeks ago as of writing this, I picked up a stray because I saw that it had an open wound on its neck; since it was amicable to being handled I decided to take it to the vet to be treated (and neutered, since I'd already gotten hold of it and obviously we don't need more strays.)

Recently, my cat of 15 years (we had him for 15 years, he was about 17-18 though) passed of old age, so I wasn't expecting my family to be willing to take a new cat in so soon. We even still have most of his stuff, so I figured it would be a matter of keeping the stray indoors until it was healed, then letting him go about his business. We all ended up getting attached over his two weeks of recovery though (if anyone is curious, it was a burst absess. While he was there we got him vaccinated and checked for other problems. Aside from ear mites, he was fine) so we got him a microchip, named him, and that was that.

My previous cat was also a rescue, though we picked him up from a shelter. At the time we also had a dog and a dog door, so keeping him inside would have been a logistical struggle we just... didn't care to bother with. By the time the dog passed, he'd had access to the outside for years and we saw no reason to suddenly cut him off from that. We obviously had to keep this new cat completely inside while his staples were in, but the plan was always to open up the dog door once he was healed and let him decide where he wanted to be. I don't like taking care of a litter box, my dad doesn't like the smell of cat, 3/4ths of the house is allergic (though that didn't stop us before), and this cat is much younger than our previous was, and has much more energy (vet estimated him at 6mo-1yr). At the beginning of last week (again, as of writing this) I got the go-ahead from the vet to let him outside and gladly did so. He hasn't gotten the hang of the dog door yet (our previous had the advantage of watching the dog go through to learn how to do it) but will go through open doors/windows and will return to the door or enter through the window if it's still open.

With context out of the way here comes the trouble: our neighbors. Our house is on the corner of the block and to our left is a house that takes tenants every so often. They've been here for as long as I (22m) have been alive and have been a nucance for probably longer than that. Their yard is atrocious, they planted bamboo that grew under the fence and into our property, and the woman who owns the house (presumably. Her husband might but I've never spoken to him) apparently has some moral issue with outdoor cats.

Sometime into owning our previous cat, she suddenly became very concerned with the bird population and insisted that we collar our cat and get him a bell so that he wouldn't catch birds. I'd like to point three things out: 1) our previous cat only had one eye, 2) we had tried to collar him before and he lost every single one so we gave up (breakaway collars so he didn't choke, 3) he caught birds despite both of these facts. Needless to say, I was not fucking thrilled about unsolicited advice from a woman I'd never spoken to, who let her unmitigated mess of invasive plants invade my garden, but whatever. She spoke to my little (10yro) sister about it at the time, only once, and never to me, so it wasn't an issue.

So I let this new cat out, right? I opened the dog door for him and he waltzed right on out, but I wasn't convinced he really knew how to operate it. About an hour or so without hearing him come in, I head through the back door to look for him. I got him from a different neighborhood, across town, while visiting a friend, so I figured I was allowed to be a little worried about him getting lost or overwhelmed. As soon as I step out onto the porch, the neighbor-lady calls over and asks me if my cat got out or I let it out.

I tell her I let him out. She asks me to put a bell on him. In an attempt to remain civil I ask her why. She says something about it being stupid, I ask her why it's stupid, she says cats eat birds and the bird populations are declining. I instantly want to call bull on cats being a leading reason of bird population decline, but I just tell her that I'll have to look that up, and ask her if she saw which way he went. (I'd like my restraint during this interaction noted, thanks.)

Anyway I don't find the cat but I get a good few patrols around the block, and eventually he comes back to the house sometime in the late-night early-morning. He does not use the dog door and waits for me to open the door instead (back door is on the way to the bathroom, I saw his stupid little face pressed against the glass when i went to piss).

I look up bird population decline articles. Most of them mention cats as a factor, along with clear windows. Primary factors are listed as deforestation and invasive species, pesticides, etc. I don't consider getting my cat a collar because I don't appreciate my neighbors input, especially when she's going to be hypocritical and ignore that planting native species may help bird population more than putting out fifty fucking feeders and complaining that the stray cats see her yard as a buffet. Anyway.

I let him out again yesterday, this time through the window in my room, which leads to the back porch. I felt comfortable leaving it open since I work at my desk and would hear if anything not-cat came inside. (Allergies were a problem, but I'd really rather he have a way to get inside if he wanted/needed, and he STILL will not open the dog door on his own. Obviously I'm not helping by continuing to give him alternatives but I am soft-hearted.) Sometime in the evening my dad comes in and tells me that when the cat next comes back, I should keep him inside because "The neighbor lady is being a bitch and I don't want to deal with it." I assume she said something to him, so I agree and when the cat comes in for the night I close the window.

This morning I saw what had ACTUALLY got him.in a twist, because not only did she say something but she printed out and taped a note to our door. Oh, how I would love to send a picture of it here, but I don't know how to embed photos in asks so you'll just have to deal with my transcription:

CAT FACTS

Cats kill birds. Cars kill cats.

Here's some links to look up.

[I won't type the links out. First one is an article titled "how long do outdoor cats live indoor vs outdoor cats" and the second is "faq cats and their effects on birds". I have not read either of these.]

Ask Kelly about Dixie. Ask Jean about Madeline - wait don't - she ran over her with her own car and broke her pelvis because the cat was older and couldn't hear well.

You have a very beautiful young cat. He deserves a safe loving home. Act like you care for your cat or give him to a home that will. I have four indoor cats - three are orange boys. I have a soft spot for orange boy cats. They are very happy as inside cats.

Be responsible.

[Handwritten at the bottom:]

Your cat is sleeping in my backyard. Why are you forcing him to be an outdoor cat!?

[End]

The amount of violent rage this fills me with is unreal. Kelly is our across-the-road neighbor, I assume Jean is another neighbor (I'm bad with names) and I CANNOT imagine that either of them appreciate being. Used like this. Also, I'm very glad her cats are happy indoors but this cat is not, he wants to go outside, he has been crowding the window all morning waiting for me to open it. (I respect me father so I won't, but I disrespect my neighbor so I really, REALLY fucking want to.)

So AITA for disregarding the safety/happiness of my cat and the decline of the bird population by not putting a collar on him and heartlessly forcing him outside? I'm no further inclined to force him indoors or get a collar, especially with her continued insistence, and in fact I'm so far making an active effort to restrain myself from going over and talking to her because I just want to turn it into an argument.

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

[callsigngrim]

Teachers pet

Stanford Pines x Gn reader(no description)

@moronic-validity

Warnings: angst ,age gap, student teacher relationship. Student is in early 20s, non descriptive sex scene. Stanford is a selfish man. Kissing. Mdni

The new substitute professor was handsome. Stanford Pines or Mr. Pines was a few years older than most of the students he was teaching. Awkward and a little on the odd side. There was no denying his passion for physics,and it translated into the way he taught his classes. He always made his lessons interesting, often showing practical examples, and invited his students to show off their work.

On one such occasion it was your turn. You would be embarrassed to admit to him just how much time and energy you had poured into the presentation. He didn't have to know that the only reason you haven't dropped the class yet was because of him. His praises and fawning over your work,the insistence on staying after class to discuss your work more in detail, the undivided attention he seemed to give just to you. Is what landed you in this mess in the first place.

It started out innocent,he would make you tea and the both of you would sit in his office unbothered discussing the work and upcoming projects. Until slowly the two of you stand talking about your school work less and less. You started getting to know him,and he learned about you. He opened up about his aspirations and dreams. You became a confidant to him clever with your jokes and wit it became routine. Every day the two of you would sit and talk about everything and nothing. You enjoyed the time together. Talking and laughing. Until it  wasn't just talking anymore.

Ford watched you from afar at first,you were a promising student. But he could see that you were slipping, small mistakes you usually wouldn't make. So he decided to take you under his wing,gently guide you without making it obvious to your peers. So he gives you more praise,pushing you a little more than the rest of his students. Small things that wouldn't draw attention to you and leave you at the mercy of jealous students and teachers.

But then he had to go and invite you to his office after school. And slowly his resolve started to slip. You were younger than him and his student. He should have drawn the line he should have been a stronger man. But he was a weak man who gave into temptation. Everytime you would smile at him and show him the slightest amount of kindness he fell deeper and deeper into oblivion.

The first time it happened it was like any other afternoon. He was showing you a new anomaly that he had been tracking, and you much like anytime he spoke to you and opened up about the things he enjoyed, looked at him eyes filled with awe and adoration, and in that moment his last bit of self control slipped. He pulled you in his lips, searing hot against your own. It's like the thin thread of student and teacher snapped. And it was just the two of you,nothing outside of his office meaning anything to you at that moment.

He took your breath away and made your knees weak with his insistent touches and the breathless sounds he made into your mouth. He was firm and hot against you. His slight stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of your neck as he trailed down to litter kisses there. You should have stopped him,pushed him away, done literally anything else except pulling him closer against you moaning his name out to the world.

This continued for weeks before the two of you fell into his bed together. His kisses made you weak, his taste had you addicted to him. But it wasn't enough. You wanted to see him completely. Mark him as yours even if you knew deep down that he never would be yours. People wouldn't approve, they would say he was taking advantage. They wouldn't listen if you all but yelled at them that you were just as responsible for what happened between the two of you as Ford was.

He wanted to end it. The guilt was slowly eating away at him. He was supposed to be level headed and better than his hormonal students. But here he was just as bad if not worse. And he had to stop it before things got out of hand even more than it already was.

He would gently tell you that this had to stop. He already signed the papers to transfer somewhere else when your actual professor came back after fully recovering. Despite the fact that he had been offered a permanent position. He had to leave not just for his sake, but for yours as well. He wouldn't be the reason that you lose your place at the university because of his lack of control.

Everything would be fine. But once again nothing was as simple as it was supposed to be. You had dressed up a little for the dinner he had invented you to. And with the wine he had served the nervous tension had slowly faded. And you were both chatting and laughing. Dinner was lovely and soon you two moved to the couch. But there was clearly something that was bothering Ford if the large space between the two of you was any indication. He wants to tell you,you used to be the easiest person to talk to. He wants to spill his heart out to you. To make you see who and what he really is. But he can't not when you're looking at him like that.

So like every time before he folds and he hates himself for it. But god he loves you, so he takes and takes because this will be the last time he'll have with you.

The moment your head hits his bed,Ford is on you like a man possessed. The gentleness he usually handles you with is gone, replaced by a hunger you have never seen in him before.

“Be good for me” he whispers against your parted lips. Before his tongue is lapping into the heat of your mouth. His hand is gripping your hip holding you in place as he grinds against you. You gasp at the friction,hot and heavy as he continues to touch you in all the places that leave you gasping for more. He fills you and it's warm and perfect. The two of you fit together perfectly. You wish this moment could last forever. 

Monday morning when you walk in your old professor is back and Ford is nowhere in sight. You choose to ignore the pit forming in your stomach. You'll see him this afternoon at his house. Everything is fine. Only it's not. He's gone, the only thing left is the leather bound journal he left for you with the landlord.

In it you find a note addressed to you.

I'm sorry for not being brave enough to tell you that I'm leaving. I was a coward for letting things go on for as long as they have. It hurts me to have to do this but I truly believe it's for the best. I would have held you back from your full potential. I hope this journal can be filled with your stories and discoveries. Take care.

He just left. Like what you had meant nothing. You throw the journal onto your nightstand. You want to cry and scream but you're too exhausted. So you sleep tossing and turning until eventually you give up. Switching on the lamp beside you something catches your eye. On the note there is a strange stamp on the back

“Gravity falls Oregon”

[lgbtlunaverse]

It seems the dash has been talking about the Lan Xichen - Nie Huaisang post-canon dynamics and it's gotten me thinking about how discussion around post-canon Lan Xichen's absolutely horrendous mental state often center around the question of "who is Lan Xichen angry at and who does he feel guilty about" which, at its worst, seperates into 2 camps where according to one side he feels guilty about not protecting jgy and hates the Nies and, on the other side he has completely flipped on jgy and despises him now while being filled with regret towards both nmj and nhs.

And I dislike both of these takes not just because it often feels like people projecting their own Blorbo opinions onto Lan Xichen which is never a fun time but also because that central question is flawed to begin with. It treats anger and guilt like opposing emotions that can't coexist or, if they do, have to compete until one wins and cancels the other out.

And that's not how that... works.

To be clear, the reason why Lan Xichen is so supremely fucked up at the end of the story is that he believes on some level he fucked over everyone in this situation. And, even more importantly, that even with hindsight he can't actually think of what he should have done instead. Every attempt to do better by one seems to involve fucking over the others even more because these people were in conflict with each other and choosing one would mean standing against another

And none of this would actually stop him from feeling angry at any of them. It's not "who is he angry at and who does he feel guilty about" it's: "he is angry at everyone and feels an immediate and bone deep guilt for daring to think badly of them."

Speaking from personal experience here, but feeling like you're not allowed to be angry at someone because you wronged them really doesn't stop the feeling, it just maks you feel like shit for feeling it. And this is all worsened by the fact that what he's in seclusion for is, at the end of the day, a moral question of what he, Lan Xichen, did wrong and every single emotion serves as further proof of the ways he's failed them.

Is he angry at Jin Guangyao, for killing his oldest friend, using Lan xichen's trust in him to do it, and then lying to him about it and countless other things for a decade when Lan Xichen thought of him as the person he trusted the most in the entire world? Yeah. That's a thing people get angry about! Except Jin Guangyao also saved his life and protected and helped him more times than he can count and never ever hurt him and can Lan Xichen say the same? No. He had to clean A-Yao's blood off Shouyue, he has to be haunted by the fact that if he just hadn't listened to Huaisang- hadn't been just like everyone else, in the end, and believed a lie about Jin Guangyao just to think the worst of him- then Jin Guangyao might still be alive.

Is he angry at Huaisang? For orchestrating the death of his best friend? For making him do it? For knowing what the real cause behind Nie Mingjue's death was and never telling him until he found out in the absolute worst way? Absolutely. But didn't Huaisang hide it from him for a reason? Wasn't it his clan's techniques and his personal faith in Jin Guangyao that cost Huaisang his brother? How dare he demand that Huaisang let him in on the secret of his brother's murderer when Lan Xichen is here wondering about how he should have protected that murderer better!

And I do even think he's angry at Nie Mingjue, sometimes I think it's pretty normal to be angry at your friend for kicking your other friend down the stairs and threatening to kill him, even when you know his mind is being poisoned. And years later the last thing he ever saw of Nie Mingjue was Nie Mingjue's thoughtless corpse coming to kill him before Jin Guangyao pushed him away and then proceeded to graphocally snap Jin Guangyao's neck in front of him. And if what he wants to do is protect Jin Guangyao, shouldn't he be mad at Mingjue? Didn't this whole mess start because Jin Guangyao was afraid Nie Mingjue was going to kill him?

Except holy shit, can you imagine? Lan Xichen feels like he personally has Nie Mingjue's blood on his hands. Your oldest friend is killed in front of you and you happily believe it's an accident for 11 years and now you think you have the right to be mad at him? You watched him get worse as he was being poisoned and attributed it to his illness and not to the techniques stolen from your library with the token you give his murderer. Does he think Nie Mingjue knew who he was in that moment and wanted to kill him? That he blamed Lan Xichen for his death? (For the record, I don't. I don't agree with most of what Lan Xichen thinks about himself, but I've been in a self-blame spiral and I know how it feels)

But what was he supposed to do then? Choose Mingjue's side and let A-Yao die? That's also unacceptable. But so is letting Jin Guangyao get away with it. Every single outcome is unacceptable. And really, if Jin Guangyao felt like he had to kill Nie Mingjue to save himself, when it was Lan Xichen who was supposed to keep the peace between them, isn't that another mark of his failure? That he couldn't protect Jin Guangyao well enough that he felt he had to do something so horrible?

But that's not an answer! He's supposed to know what he should have done different, and all he can come up with is "what you were already doing, but without failing this time" He can't pick a side because that means betrayal, but he's already tried not picking a side and it ended like this! There is no right answer, which can only leave him with the idea that he was simply doomed to hurt the people he loved from the start. No wonder the guy looks like shit when we see him post-canon. They put him in a real life trolley problem and gave him the lever as a souvenir.

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[dilfdemolisher]

PERSEPHONE - CHAPTER THREE

“Persephone, queen of the underworld. Hades runs Hell, but she’s in charge of punishment.”

Series Summary: A serial killer who works with the police herself has a tumultuous past with Jack Crawford and his new profiler Will Graham. While trying to rebuild what she once broke Hannibal Lecter sticks himself in the middle of the few things she cares about - Comments and critiques are encouraged.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, dead bodies, murder that is very female targeted, canon character death, smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 9.5k (yes you read that right…I'm sorry)

The sterile walls of the hallway close in around you as you make your way towards the autopsy room. "Agent," a familiar voice calls out behind you.

"I'm not your 'Agent' anymore, Jack," you say, wincing as you turn to face him. You were never officially an agent; Jack only started calling you that when you began sticking your nose into his cases.

"Force of habit," he deflects, his tone unusually soft for him. "I need to talk to you."

You glare at him, hoping he'll get straight to the point. The last thing you want is for Jack to drag you into his office, which always feels like a principal's office—the prelude to a lecture you’d rather avoid.

"I'd like you to resume therapy," he says finally.

Your heart sinks. "No."

"Bloom knows a therapist in Baltimore-"

You cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Are you serious? The last time I took her advice, I ended up tied to a chair and tortured. I'll pass."

"Dr. Lecter is one of the best in his field. She recommended him when I expressed my concerns." He tries to reason. 

Is he serious? "So, you discussed your concerns about me with her first instead of just asking me if I felt I needed help?"

"It's not about what you want. If you’re going to continue working on this case, you need a psychological evaluation."

Frustrated, you turn away and continue down the hallway. This is such bullshit. You don't need therapy. "I'll pass, Jack, but I appreciate your concern," you dismissively yell over your shoulder, not slowing your pace.

The moment you enter the room, everyone's eyes fall on your frame. The three in lab coats momentarily feeze while Will quickly makes eye contact before his gaze shifts to behind you and paces out of the room. 

“Were you honest when you said you two never dated—hell even slept together because this is awkward.” He says in an awful attempt to break the awkward silence.

“Any close relationship that didn’t leave on a positive note can cause tension, not just romantic ones, Price.” You state. 

Beverly clears her throat. “So Will thinks the killer is eating the girls. Elise's liver was removed and then put back in place; the killer did that after he realized she had liver cancer.”

“We also found metal shavings on her body,” Zeller chimes in. 

You sigh. “It’s plausible. It creates a very vivid image of this man. He…cares for these girls in his own twisted way. He’d view their consumption as an act of devotion, most likely a waste if he didn't. It’s a hunter's mentality; if there's anything left of these girls, it’s most likely fragments. Hair stuffed in pillows, bones made into various things—he wouldn't waste. If he is a hunter, he most likely has a dedicated space to this, a shed, probably doesn't live in the city.” You propose.

You’re met with silence for a moment before Beverly speaks once again. “I can’t believe you were never a profiler.” She shakes her head and smiles. 

"Well, I momentarily am of sorts now.” You raise your arms forward and wiggle your fingers.  “Maybe I understand him so well because I am him.” You say it in an unserious tone. 

She rolls her eyes playfully. "Hmm, yeah, I'm real scared.” You didn't even realize how much you missed Bev until now. 

"Well, is that all?” You ask. 

"Yup, that's it.” Brain tells you before grabbing something behind him. “I’ll be off then.” You smile and walk out the door.

2 YEARS EARLIER

Jack’s call came twenty minutes ago, his voice clipped and urgent. “Another one.” That was all he said, but it was enough. It wasn't just another body, not a one-off murder. He made it clear by his simple lack of words that this was connected. 

During the entirety of your drive, your heart couldn't stop beating. The dull vibration filling your ears and pounding your chest overwhelmed you so much that you felt relieved at the red stop lights, giving you a moment to collect your barring's. Jack pulled up at the same time, his grim expression mirroring your own.

As he approached, his words were drowned out by your internal rhythm. But when Jack opened the door into the room, your body finally went quiet, and you finally feel like you’re alive again—living in the present. 

A woman's body lay sprawled on the cheap, stained bed, blood soaking deep into the mattress. Your gaze travelled over her naked form, legs spread wide in a provocative display. Decaying vines twisted around her ankles and the bed frame, their dark, withered tendrils contrasting against her greying skin. It was a brutal, degrading spectacle.

There is a precise incision right above her pelvis, which is mostly one of the reasons why her entire torso is covered in her own blood, except her breasts. They look as if they were deliberately cleaned, the pink hue still lightly remaining on her skin. 

Her mouth is slightly agape; something inside it is forcing her jaw unnaturally wide. Compelled by a mix of horror and professional detachment, your feet move towards her. You hear Jack say something but it becomes mute when you hear your heartbeat pick up again.

Your gloved hand delicately touches her jaw; now, closer, you can see her features. Up close, her traits become clearer. She’s unremarkable—plain, even. A white, brunette woman of heavy European descent with a slim build. It’s odd to think how un-special she may have been in life but now, in death, she's a spectacle.

Gently, you pry her jaw open, revealing a small, fleshy mass inside. You look towards Jack in confusion and ask, “Can I pull it out?” 

Crawford gives a small nod and moves beside you. You give the object a small pull and it doesn't budge. “You hold her jaw; I’ll pull it out.” Jack says while looking at the strangulation marks on her neck. 

You move your hands and the man pulls. You watch him struggle between delicately grasping it and forcefully yanking it. 

You adjust your grip, one hand on her lower teeth and the other on the upper, pulling them apart. Jack pulls a bit harder; you watch as it starts to slide out, and just when you think its going to be stuck once again, Jack gives a final, forceful yank, and the object comes free.

Jack is holding the woman's uterus. 

“What the fuck?” you exclaim. Momentarily forgetting you two weren't the only ones in the room. Someone behind him brings an evidence bag to Jack, where he drops the organ inside the plastic. 

All eyes shift to the incision on her torso. Another forensic tech steps forward with metal forceps, his face pale but determined. He fiddles with the cut, and when he finally pries it open. You hear others gasp but you're still trying to compute the sight of the mess inside. At first, it looks like a jumble of smooth, misplaced intestines—until you recognize the pattern.

Scales. Snakes.

She’s been hollowed out, and her uterus has been replaced with dead serpents.

PRESENT DAY

It’s been days, and still nothing. The most frustrating part of working in a field that is centered around solving crimes is the cruel irony that sometimes you need more evidence to build a profile—to move forward at all. You've heard about Jack narrowing down the search by identifying the specific metal found on Elise's body, but you honestly couldn't care less.

You deluded yourself into believing that taking on this case was a selfless act, but your defenses are crumbling. You’re here for Will to glue together what was once broken. But you’ve never fucked up on this scale before, and you don’t know how to fix it. Your fingers stick together from your messy revival attempts, and the toxic fumes cloud your mind. Why did you think it was a good idea to show up at his house?

A knock at your door—your own door—in Baltimore interrupts your spiraling thoughts.

No one called to warn you of an appearance; your overactive work brain can't shut off even now, envisioning an ax murderer standing outside your home.

How comical.

"Open up, it’s Crawford." Jack’s voice is muffled but unmistakable. Not an ax murderer; that makes more sense considering it’s 10 AM and you live in an apartment building. Unless he’s here for other reasons, maybe he knows and wants to give you a chance to explain yourself before slapping handcuffs around your wrists.

Unsure how to navigate this possible confrontation, you blurt out the stupidest thing: "Why?"

“Because I need to talk to you,” he shouts impatiently. 

With a sigh, you walk to the door and begin to unlock it. “That’s what my number is for. I thought showing up at my workplace was invasive, but this is—” Your words cut off as you opened the door.

“Who are you?” you ask, your eyes shifting to the unfamiliar man standing beside Jack.

"I’m Dr. Lecter. Jack has asked me to assist in this case, similar to you," he says with a polite smile, more out of courtesy than genuine pleasure.

You recognize the name from Bloom. She mentioned him plenty of times, but this isn’t how you envisioned meeting him. It reminds you of when, after the "incident," as she likes to call it, she recommended him to you and offered to call him. You declined.

"Okay." Your glare bounces between the two men. Jack's scowl deepens while the doctor’s eyes remain fixed on you. You're not sure if he’s blinked once since you opened the door.

Jack groans and begins to speak. “I want you to speak to a professional for a psychological evaluation. I already told you this.”

You’re taken aback by his intrusion. “I’m sorry, is this an intervention?” Crawford opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can justify himself.

“This is ridiculous. First, you begged me to help you on this case, and now you're doubting my sanity?” 

You focus on maintaining eye contact with Jack, not fully seeing the doctor's face beside him, but through your blurry peripheral vision, it looks like amusement. What an asshole.

“I’m not doubting your sanity; I’m clearing this up for legal reasons.”

It’s bullshit, and you know it. “You know what I think, Jack? I think you’re scared of another fuck-up.” You bite, “You lost Miriam, and then, because of a lack of diligence on your part, you almost lost another one of your worker bees. And you just can’t handle another tragedy like that again.”

Jack opens and closes his mouth, more-so shocked by how cold you were to him than anything. You’ve been pissy before, but nothing like that.

It’s harsh and untrue; what happened to you or Miriam isn’t Jack's fault, but that’s not the point. You wanted to strike him where it hurts most. He confided in you about his guilt during the aftermath of your incident, and using it against him is cruel, but that’s what you’re going for, and it clearly worked.

Your gaze finally directs to Lecter, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, but I think it’s best you both leave.” 

As you swing your door shut, you see him smile. This time, it’s genuine. His crow's feet become prominent, and his top lip slides up to reveal his pointed canines. You much prefer his disingenuous smile to the one where he looks at you like a pretty little doll who just did a party trick.

2 YEARS EARLIER

The victim, a model named Clare Greene, her once beautiful face beaten until her nose lay flat across her face. Blood pools around her head from her slashed throat, soaking into the plush carpet that her back lies on. In both of her hands rest two magazines; she’s on the front cover of both. 

As you approach the body closer to snap another picture, you notice the defense wounds her wrists bore. “Who found her?” You ask, not to anyone specific; you just let the words come out of your mouth with hopes of an answer. 

“Her fiancé, ma'am. Ethan Kingsley, he was supposed to meet her for breakfast; when she didn’t show up, he came here to check on her.” The officer beside her answers.

You nod, your eyes scanning the room. Broken glass glittered on the floor near the bar; an overturned chair in the corner; the place was covered in blood splatters. 

“Jack!” You shout, hoping to get his attention. 

You hear his footsteps before you see him. “What?” He asks. 

“There's a fine mist of blood over here, most likely a result of her severed artery.” You say while motioning to your neck, “All across the back wall right there. The fatal blow happened here—then she stumbled onto the carpet, where she collapsed, and he started beating her. She was either unconscious or already dead when he started so he did it for the sake of it.” You explain. 

You move closer to her. “The long, linear streaks of blood that fan out from her indicate she was also stabbed before he started beating her. The angle and distribution suggest he was standing above her—not straddling and swinging the weapon in a very vertical downward motion.”

You continue as you lead Jack towards the bar area. “These smaller, less-directed spots are all scattered around this area. I think the first attack was here, but she put her forearms up to block it and ran, leaving the droplets behind as she ran.” You say while mimicking an X with your forearms, “It also matches the shallow defensive wounds right below her elbow; it didn’t go too deep; it seems like a very light slash.” 

Jack nods, quite for a moment. “Okay.” 

Not satisfied with his response, you say, “This is bad, Jack; four murders and no suspects. I’m just-” You cut yourself off with a sigh, ‘“I’m not very confident in my usefulness.” Your head ducks down in your admittance.

“I’m sure many feel that way; there's no point in festering it; that’s not how things get solved.” Jack scolds. 

As much as you’d rather allow Jack’s words to fall deaf on your ears, you know he's right; it’s not about you; it’s about the victims and solving what's been done to prevent more tragedies. “You’re right I’m sorry, you’re not my therapist. I don’t know why I said that.”

Jack says nothing and walks away, leaving you to stew in your own embarrassment over your unwelcome confession. 

PRESENT DAY

The next day, you arrive at your momentary office in the BAU. You can’t shake off the invasive encounter given by Jack. It sits heavily in your mind as you try to focus on the case files in front of you. It feels like your head is so full of tenacity it’ll start leaking out of your ears.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of determined footsteps outside your door. 

The door knobs twist and Beverly speedily walks in before you have time to adjust. Looking a bit more chipper than usual and dropping a stack of papers on your desk.

“Good morning. Any updates?” you ask, masking with a forced smile.

“Just the usual. Lab results, cross-references, the fun stuff,” she replies, giving you a teasing look. “‘Found out the specifics of the metal found on Elise’s body, which narrows things down a bit.” She smiles. 

“What?” you say, picking up and flipping through the papers without really seeing them. "You've got to be shitting me, and Jack didn’t even say anything to me.”

"Well, he mentioned heading off to Baltimore to talk to you but it seemed that never happened.” She cluelessly shrugged. 

Grateful for her being unaware of your awkward encounter with him and Lecter, you ask, “So what happened?”

With a smile, she turns her back and says, “Read it and talk to Jack.”

“Oh fuck you.” You say unserious; she doesn't give another response but you hear her laugh accompanied by your door closing as she leaves the quaint room. 

After reading the file, you make your way towards Jack’s office, curious as to why he didn’t bring this to your attention. As you approach the door to knock, it swings open and bumps into you. “Shit.” You say under your breath, pain blossoming where the door met your toes a moment ago. 

As you back away, Will immediately comes out. You both stand there staring at each other. You see his jaw open to speak before he turns and quickly walks away from you. 

You figure he was going to apologize for the collision, and now all you can think is if the reason he scurried off was because of the obvious stress he was exuding and decided to book it, or if he didn’t deem you worthy of an apology. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you peek into Jack's partially opened door and say, “I was wondering-” You feel yourself become silenced with the notice of another person in the room, Dr. Lecter.

“Oh.” Is all you can give for an immediate response. The room is quiet, Jack looks annoyed with your uninvited presence, and the man across from him seems to be sizing you up in a clinical fashion. 

They’re both waiting for you to speak, not wanting for this unbearable silence to continue for longer than you do. “My apologies; I didn’t mean to intrude.” You say before closing the door behind you. 

You quickly scurry off, and as you turn into another hallway, you see a familiar figure hunched over a water fountain. You fasten your pace and Will’s eyes open suddenly from the sound of rapid footsteps. He pulls away from the fountain, water dripping off his chin that he wipes off when he brings his forearm to his face. 

Within the few seconds you have before you reach him, you practice what to say and points to make speak that hopefully can de escalate his discomfort. 

“I understand my presence is quite unbearable for you but I’m asking for your assistance in a professional manner. I’m being left out of the loop on plans for Nichols and I would like to be more aware. I don’t feel as if I’ve contributed much and I’d prefer to do better.” You justify your presence to him. Some parts of you feels pathetic, not because of what you are doing but because you know you would never do it for someone else.

“I’m sure I know as much as you do.” 

You want him to say more to you so desperately. You’d rather him yell at you or punch you in the fucking stomach than be so reserved. You suppose it’s best; you quite literally came up here asserting it’s for professional reasons but only wish he’d deconstruct his walls and allow you in. 

God, you’re so entitled. 

With your shoulders slumped, you cordially respond, “I understand. Thank you for your time.” Before walking away. 

As fate would have it, everything unfolded in its twisted, godly way. The call came in for another victim—a woman impaled on a stag head left to be displayed in an empty field. A stark contrast from the meticulous love of the Strike; the dissonance Jacks is unable to see is migraine-inducing. 

Ding

Your phone chimes, and you really think that whatever higher-power there is is determined to rest your patience today. 

The screen, annoyingly bright, stares back at you, displaying a name that’s foreign to your recent call history.

Will

No last name; you know multiple Will’s, but they’re contacts are accompanied by their last name. But not Graham’s; he’s much more deserving than that. 

You feel like you’re hallucinating when you look at the words asking you to see him and where he’s staying. From any other man, this might have been a crude proposition, but not from Will. Sweet, enigmatic Will. 

You’re not sure if this is meant for someone else. He would have had to search through his contacts to find you, given the long period of silence between you. He couldn't even be sure you still had the same number. 

It must be meant for you. This is the opening you’ve been praying for; you’ve never been more thankful for deities you’re not sure if you even believe in. 

Your legs feel like they're moving for you as you stand up, hardly fazed by the morning cold as you walk to where Will’s staying; leaving your dingy motel room just to go to his. 

It feels like mere seconds from receiving the text to standing at his door; time feels so warped in the grip of anticipation.

Your knuckles gently tap the door multiple times to alert him of your presence. Flashbacks invade your brain of how awful your last encounter was, though your presence seems more welcome now. 

The door opens faster than you can blink. Will’s messy hair and lack of pants make you feel like you're intruding, despite his invitation. 

He cranes his neck out to look behind you. “Come inside,” he says, hushed. 

You walk inside, and all you can think of is how “Will” this place is; it’s like he was meant to stay here. But that could also just be you holding him in higher regard than necessary and assuming the world revolves around him. 

That very well could be it. 

As he closes the door, the room becomes cloaked in darkness. “Can I—could I open a curtain?” You ask. 

"Yeah, sure,” he says, waving off. As you open the curtains to see the morning sun, you see a familiar man dressed in a fitted suit walking towards the door. 

You stiffen, your muscles tighten and lock as you feel Will give you a glance, expecting you to know the visitor. 

“Did you invite Doctor Lecter as well?” You ask, just as confused as he is. 

"No, I did not.” He huffs as he opens the door, revealing the man with his fist raised, about to knock against the wood.

“Eager.” The man outside says with a subtle, entertained smirk. “Good Morning Will” 

Walking closer to the door, tilt your head to take a peek. "Morning, Doctor.” You unenthusiastically greet. 

His face momentarily drops, just quick enough to show disappointment, before rearranging his facial movements to show false delight. 

“Good morning to you as well.” He says politely. You can’t bother to verbally respond; this was meant to be a moment for possible reconciliation. Not interruption. 

Will, who’s deep in thought, snaps back into the present and offers the doctor to step inside out of the morning chill. He accepts it happily, seemingly aware that he interrupted something but he doesn't seem to care; if anything, it seems he’s taking enjoyment in it. 

“I came bearing gifts.” He says, raising the glass containers of food he’s holding. “Though my apologies, I didn’t expect you to have a guest.” He apologizes to Will. 

“I don’t eat in the mornings anyway; it makes me nauseous.” You excuse. 

Will gestures towards the small dining area, silently and awkwardly indicating for everyone to sit. You take a spot, sitting on a stiff wooden chair, trying to ignore the piercing gaze of Hannibal.

“What is the purpose of your visit?” Hannibal asks you as he gives Will his prepared meal as they both settle into their seats, with Will beside you and Hannibal parallel to you.

Wills eyes continue avoiding both of yours. "I needed to talk to someone who understood," he responds for you. 

Hannibal, opening his container of food on the table, raises an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you need to talk about, Will?"

Will hesitates, his fingers nervously fiddling with the fork in his hand. "Cassie Boyle. The case... it’s different this time."

Hannibal leans back, looking intrigued. "Different how?"

“What is the purpose of your visit?” You redirect the conversation. This was meant to be a private conversation and you don't appreciate the way Lecter finds it appropriate to put Will on the spot. 

You watch as his hand tightens the grip around the fork in his palm; he’s mastered the art of his facial control. He really is an incredible attempt at the personification of nonchalant, but he still has his tells. 

“An attempt to befriend a coworker; I’d like to serve the purpose of a mediator, alleviate tension when possible, and give my insight on more grim- work related things.” He answers. 

You know you shouldn’t taunt, but you can’t help it; the temptation is too grand. “What makes one worthy of a visit and what disqualifies another?” 

Hannibal seems pleased by your words, oddly enough. “You are more than qualified; I figured you’d appreciate time. I understand you’re not necessarily fond of me.”

“I’d argue the only person fond of you in this room is yourself.” You bite. Hannibal says nothing in return, nor does Will. They both eat in silence as you fidget with your hands, desperate to be soothed.

Staring at the painted wall in front of you, you watch through your peripheral as Hannibal swallows a bite of food from his fork and opens his mouth to speak to Will. “I would apologize for my analytical ambush the other day, but I know I would be apologizing again.” He says, flicking his head towards you briefly in recognition. “And you’ll tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.”

Quickly and harshly Will responds, “Just keep it professional.”

Hannibal responds after taking another bite of his cooking, “Or we could socialize like adults; God forbid we become friendly.”

“Where's Crawford?” You ask as soon as the thought rolls into your head. 

Hannibal’s head stiffly turns to face you. “Deposed in court. The journey will be ours today.” He curtly says. 

Then why did he exclusively come to Will? Why has he seemingly made no plans to properly introduce himself to you?

It’s not that you're jealous; it’s not his attention that you want; it’s just the simple need to be recognized as an equal. You’re good at what you do—great, even. And this isn’t the first time someone has disregarded you for no apparent reason. Well, you think you know why. 

Standing up from your chair, you speak. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be off-”

“Why?” Will immediately asks, mouth full of chewed food. 

“Gotta get ready for the day. Unfortunately, it takes more effort than just a clean shirt and brushed hair for me to be presentable. I’m sure you’d understand that, Doctor.” 

The moment the words come out of your mouth, you realize the accidental insult you've just given. You didn’t even mean to insinuate that he’s someone who must put in extra effort in order to be ready for the day, but by the way his grip tightens on his fork once again and the displeasing curl of his lips, you're sure he took it that way. 

“Jack gave a rental; I can drive you when you're ready?” Will offers, as pleased and equally confused you are for his sudden change of heart on your existence. You are also well aware that Lecter will most likely be hitching a ride to.

“I actually drove here. I thought it would be good for me to have some more time to sort out my thoughts.” You say, walking towards the door. “But thank you; I’ll see you both soon.” You say, as curtly as possible before twisting the handle and making your exit. 

Files, files and more files are all you’ve sorted through since you arrived at your destination, the place where the Shrike most likely works. 

You hear a car pull up next to the dingy little trailer of the office of the work site, the sound vibrant against the noise of ruffling papers and the secretary talking to her boss on the corded phone sitting on her desk. 

The door creaks open, and as you turn around, you’re greeted by the sight of Will walking in through the door held open by Hannibal. 

“I’ve sorted through these four on the left so far,” you say in reference to the seemingly never ending towers of file cabinets. “And those boxes are where I’m throwing shit that if you twist an arm and a leg, you might be able to find something slightly suspicious.” 

Hannibal walks in, closing the door behind him and Will nods. “What about her?” He asks, tilting his head to the side where the secretary sits. 

“Conversation with her boss, I think. One that doesn’t seem to be going very well.” You explain with a tiny humorous smirk. Her head snaps towards you as she glares, unable to verbalize any frustration so she settles for squinted eyes. 

“Do you need direction?” You condescendingly ask. Hannibal, seemingly unfazed by your attitude at this point, does nothing but shake his head and say, “Not yet, no. But I’m sure you’ll give me some.” His smile contradicting his pointed words. 

Moments went by, flipping through papers upon papers. The feeling of being stuck in a never ending loop is finally broken by the secretary's voice directed at the three of you. 

“What did you say your names where?” She asks, standing up. 

Before you or Hannibal could respond, Will does. “Garrett Jacob Hobbs?”

With a sigh, the woman answers, “He’s one of our pipe threaders. Those are all the resignation letters. ‘Plumbers Union requires ‘em whenever members finish a job.” She says, before quickly spinning around and whispering into the phone, “I’ll call you back.” And places the landline back onto the plunger. 

Finished with her phone conversation, Will continues to inquire. "Uh, does Mr. Hobbs have a daughter?”

“Might have.” She says in her tired, monotone voice. 

“Eighteen or nineteen, wind-chafed, um- plain but pretty. She’d have auburn hair; be about this tall.” He motions a bit below his ear. 

She shrugs in response. “Maybe I don't know. I don’t keep company with these people.”

“What is it about Garrett Jacob Hobbs you find so peculiar?” Lecter's voice chimes in. 

“He left a phone number, no address.” He answers, his back still facing you both. 

 The doctor questions Will once again, turning to face more towards him, “And therefore he has something to hide?”

Taking a short breath to breathe, Will answers, “The others all left addresses; he also missed work for days at a time.” You can see he’s slowly getting more wound up. His mind is moving and scrambling around different possibilities too fast for him to make sense of, and what he can decipher is nothing short of tasteless. 

"Do you have an address for Mr. Hobbs?” You chime in an attempt to take a sliver of weight off of Will’s shoulders. 

The dark haired woman rolls her eyes and silently walks toward her desk. She takes a few moments to gather her information, the sounds of a keyboard clicking and shallow- impatient breaths fill the room. 

Grabbing a pen, she scribbles numbers onto the small square of paper before standing up once more to hand it to Will. 

As often as it happens, you feel like you’ll never get used to the way men are consistently served first in this field. It's not Will’s fault of course, and you’re sure it wasn’t intentional on her part. But in a way that makes it worse, how habitual it is to subconsciously ignore you, woman, really anything out of the typical white male mold of an old detective movie. 

You’ll never forget how Jack was so quickly disregarded in one of the first cases you accompanied him with. It was in some southern state where a series of home invasions resulted in multiple murders over a handful of months. On the way to the crime scene, the neighbourhood held lawns of homes that were decorated with not only American flags but Confederate ones as well. You watched the way the local police interacted with Crawford. The kind of people who tolerated him for his help but nothing else—aversion constantly clouded their eyes. 

It's not that you haven't encountered appalling people of that sort before, but it was the moment when it clicked that no matter how remarkable your work is, if Crawford could be so quickly disregarded because prejudice, the man who was truly their saving grace for this case, what chance do you have to truly excel in your field?

“I could start loading the boxes in the trunk; can you unlock it?” You ask, not even bothering to look at the yellow Post-it note containing the address. 

Looking at you with brows furrowed, he digs in his trouser pockets. “It’s manual, you have to unlock it.” He says while handing you the set of cool rigid metal. 

“That's fine.” You say with a smile before heading out the door. Taking a breath of metal-scented air in an attempt to calm your nerves. Things are going okay—well, even.

 Will seems to be no longer sickened by your presence, for whatever reason that may be. You're trying not to think of that, the reasoning for this sudden change of heart, and how you may already know it if it weren't for Lecter's earlier intrusion. 

You're trying not to hold much disdain for him, to put it aside for the time being when there are non-metaphorical lives on the line. But it’s hard when the only thing you now personally know him for is an invasive little bastard. Not much like Bloom had described him to you before, back when you were civil. That's not fair to her, though; she’s civil—you're not. You're much too bitter now for niceties.

Moments pass by while you, Will, Hannibal and the secretary are hauling boxes out of the small office trailer into the back of the rental car. A monotonous and tedious task. One that may not seem to be fit for all though, as the doctor allows a box to stumble in hands, paper falling onto the wet ground. 

Of course, Will’s the one to solve the problem, falling to his knees to scrounge the paper and telling the man not to worry. You watch as he doesn't even give a thank you in return; he just hustles back inside. 

Clearly, the man doesn't have as much decorum inside of him as he presents. 

Though you may not have room to speak, the moment the task was done, you grabbed the address covered note and put it into your car's GPS before telling Will just to follow you. You're sure you're contributing to his stress by being so evasive, but until you can stop being so erratic, your best bet is to stay slippery, not allowing him to get a good enough grasp on who you are before you can conceal it.

The robotic voice from your center console alerts you of the approaching destination. Turning on your turn signal a bit early to alert Will driving behind you of the driveway you are about to pull into.

You can only appreciate the home once you step out of your car. The plain suburbia of the family home becomes clearer once you get closer to the front door. 

You turn to watch Will and Lecter step out of the car, Hannibal surveying the place with an analytical gaze much like your own, while Wills is unique. It’s Wills. 

You're unsure if you should wait for Will and have him be the one to knock at the door. You’re defenceless; you have no gun, no badge, and no reason for someone to open the door for you alone. 

The decision seems to have been made for you when the door opens. Turning to look, you are greeted by the sight of bloodied hair and body weight pushed onto you. Before being granted a moment to collect your thoughts, you feel yourself falling. The sight of a man with a knife turning away is the only distinct thing you can make out as the rest melts into a scene of blurry green and blue before you and the body on top of you hit the ground.

The moment your head hits the concrete, you know you're done for. The sound of your hard skull smacking against the ground reverberates through your spine like an echo. An uncomfortable pounding takes over all your senses as Will runs up to you. The body weight of the woman is pushed off of you. You can hear the vibrations of his voice against your eardrums but nothing more—all unintelligible in your mangled brain. 

You can feel your mind quickly leave its haze as fast as it came to you, your senses returning. You pull yourself up on your forearms to try to slowly raise yourself up. “Go.” Your voice sounds weird coming out of you; it's so loud that it feels like a microphone is hiding in your throat. 

An unfamiliar hand grabs the back of your skull. “I’m here; you can go, Will.” Hannibal's voice firmly says behind you. 

And he does; he quickly stands, pulling out his gun and walks into the house as Lecter pulls you by your armpits to sit properly. “You’re not bleeding.” He states, moving your hair around your head softly to check. 

“Bleeding.” You think. Blood. You can feel blood all over your skin. You know you’re not bleeding, you don’t feel anything leaving you. But you feel everything on you. 

The woman lays beside you, face up towards the dreary sky, as the sound of a quiet pattering of blood collects in a pool below. “God.” You exclaim while attempting to push yourself up from your wobbly arms.

“Slow do-” The accented voice behind you speaks before being cut off by a series of gunshots. You feel each noise in your chest, each one causing your heart to sink further into your stomach. Ignoring the dizziness blooming in your head, you clumsily stand up. Hannibal's hands pointlessly attempt to grip you to help your stability as you quickly stumble into the Hobbs residence. 

The overwhelming smell of iron invades your nostrils—you freeze. Will huddles over a limp body, you from behind as he struggles to place his hands. Jack was right, you're not ready for this. Slumped in the corner lies a man, bullet wounds decorating his chest in rows.

Will killed him.

Your mind plays the sentence over and over again on loop as you feel Dr. Lecter's eyes bore into the back of your skull. He walks over to Will, his posture so straight that it's unnerving. The way his hands steadily grip the young girl's throat to prevent more blood from spurting out mocks your shaky ones. 

Will beside him looks just as shaken up as you do, sitting there frozen, watching as the girl on the floor clings to life. 

“Call in.” Hannibal's voice shakes you from your thoughts. As if on autopilot, your bloody hand messily dials for an ambulance. Your words sound so foreign, entirely not yours, as you explain the scene in front of you, eyes locked on Will as he dissociates from his surroundings. 

It happens so slowly and so fast. A whirl of paramedics running in. Ushering you all to leave, but you can’t. The moment you exit the door, you freeze at the woman's body in front of you.     

She was murdered, died on top of you and was the last bit of warmth she felt before she went cold. You feel sad, A woman's life was brutally stolen from her far too early. You feel sad about the surrounding context of her death, but mostly you feel gross, dirty, sticky, and frustrated that she had to expel her life force all over you. 

You want a shower.  

After getting checked by the waiting paramedic outside, who confirmed a grade 1 concussion. You can't stop thinking about what just happened to Will's head. He just murdered a man to save a life and you know what that can do to someone—it's the exact thing that ruined you. 

You’ve done it again, showing up uninvited again, only this time to his motel room and not his home. But you have to talk to him. 

Some agent you never even got the name of drove you both back to your respected quarters. Neither of you were in a state to drive; you can’t for the next 48 hours and Will... God knows how Will is. 

That's why your visit is needed; it’s not for your peace of mind; it's not an apology; it’s to make sure he's not alone with thoughts and has someone to help clear them. 

After knocking at his door once again, he opens it. “Hi.” Your voice cracks.

“Hi.” Greets back. He sounds…tired.

“I wanna come in.” You tell him there's no point in pleasantries; he’s known why you’re here since the moment you knocked on the door. 

Fortunately, that gets him to crack a small smile and say, “Sure.” 

As you both walk further into his room, he closes the door behind you. The room’s dimly lit, and the curtains drawn tightly to block out the world. You can see the disarray around you—books strewn across the floor, papers piled haphazardly on the desk, and an untouched dinner plate on the nightstand.

“I brought a gift.” You say, sticking your arm out, handing him the bottle.

"Vending machine root beer, you shouldn’t have." He attempts a joke, but the effort is hollow. Everything he says only deepens your concern; he’s so quick to brush off everything that's happened and act as if everything's fine.

“You’re freaking me out, Will,” you awkwardly laugh. “I know your feeling pretty fucked up right now. You don’t have to act unbothered.”  

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, a defensive look quickly absorbing his eyes. “Just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean I can’t.” The moment the weight of the words he’s thrown at you registers, Will's face drops. His entire guarding demeanour immediately shatters the moment they come out.

"I-I’m sorry." You stutter out in shock of how his attitude is instantaneously flipped by words. "I know what happened was different; I just wanted to check up on you." Your words are met with silence, the two of you just pitifully staring at each other. The room feels colder, the silence is more suffocating.

He breathes out your name so softly that you almost don’t hear it. “I don’t know…why I sa-said that.” His hand roughly runs through his hair as he takes a step forward. “I want you to stay.” He states, uncharacteristically bold from him. 

Unsure what to make of his words, you just stand there. Both your minds are reeling—Will’s for a way to apologize and yours to just disappear. 

“I know I didn’t handle myself well.” You say, taking a deep breath, “I’m not saying my actions will be your own; I just wish I had someone to understand what its like to take a human life and not hate it.” 

That's it—the thing you could never admit, not even to yourself. So much time was spent sprilling about why you are the way you are. Trying to convince yourself that this feeling brewing inside you is new, that it had been manually moulded. 

Panicking from your admission, you quickly follow up. “I didn’t mean to project—fuck, I just don’t want you to wallow in the guilt of change like I did. What Hobbs did- who he was—was entirely irredeemable.” 

Another step closer and the gap between you both becomes bridged, and his large hands rest gently on your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He delicately whispers. 

You can’t help it; you fall apart and the dam behind your eyes breaks. The tears cascade down your cheeks faster than you can blink them away as he pulls you into his chest. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat, the reminder that he’s real, he’s here, and he’s okay.

“I was so fucking scared when I heard those gunshots,” you whisper into his chest. His grip on you tightens, pushing you further into him. You both stay like that for God knows how long. From how heavily you’ve soaked his T-shirt with your tears and how you feel it around your brow bones and eye sockets, you’d guess it’s been a while. And with a deep sigh, you finally feel him pull away. “Are you okay?” He asks, gently looking you up and down.

“I should be asking you that.” You scoff, “Minor concussion; I’ll be fine in a couple days and a good night's sleep.”

He raises his brows in shock. “Yeah, well, good luck getting that.” You can’t help but laugh at his tone and reaction, as if you just said the most bizarre thing in the world. 

A grin makes his way across his face at the sound of your laugh. “I miss you.” 

You freeze. It’s what he said that took you off-gaurd, just the way he said it. The tone wasn’t sad or nostalgic; it was happy. Present tense too; he didn’t once mourn you and, over time, healed the wounds of a lost friendship. No, they’re still open, and he still misses you.

You were so caught up in your concern for him that you never had a moment to grasp the closeness between you too. Looking up, you see him. The individual hairs growing out of his chin, forming his stubble; the small scar on his cheek that he got when he was a child but doesn't remember how; and his eyes. Those blue eyes that hold so much patience, so much care and so much understanding it makes you weak to your knees. You see Will—sweet, complex, deserving Will. 

His hands grip your face more firmly this time, peering into your soul like you just autopsied yours. He's drinking you in your image, like he’s been starved, dehydrated, and famished. You wouldn’t dare pull away and deny him what he wants; you’ll give him anything and if he wants your soul, you’ll bare it to him. 

“The only thing I regret is everything I did to you.” It’s such a heavy admission—one that’s entirely out of left field, and he still doesn’t know the true weight of it. “Please,” The words so delicately come from you. You’re not sure what your pleading for—forgiveness? But for which of your sins? In what context are you begging for repentance?

It doesn't matter what you decide. The only thing that does is how close his lips are to yours and how it’s still not enough. 

“I know.” His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, then more certain. The kiss is a soft exploration, a silent conversation filled with all the words you couldn’t bring yourselves to say. You feel his hands trembling slightly against your skin, betraying the calm exterior he’s trying to maintain. 

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless. He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. He’s quiet, waiting for the moment for you to turn and run like you do, but it doesn’t come. Instead, your hand finds itself on the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his curls as you pull him in for another kiss. 

Just as eager as you, he deepens the kiss, his hands moving from your cheeks to your waist, desperate to have you as close as he can. You could feel his heart beating against his chest, rhythmically in-sync with your own.

Energy intensifies, with hands greedily grabbing whatever they can, saliva coating each other's lips, feet scrambling across the floor until your back hits the crumpled sheets of the unmade motel bed.   

The thin mattress creaks under your combined weight, but you barely notice—too preoccupied with catching each sound that spills from Will's mouth. His hands explore the curves and slopes of your torso with an urgency so similar to yours. Every touch, every kiss, makes your body buzz with ache, desperate to consume him from the outside-in. 

He breaks away for a moment, his breath ragged, eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a rough whisper.

"Yes," you reply without hesitation, your voice as steady as you could be despite the pounding of your heart. "I’m sure."

With that, he captures your lips again, his hands slipping under your shirt, the warmth of his calloused fingertips on your ribs sending shivers within you. You lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside the room fading into oblivion. 

All you can think of is Will. 

Will's hands slipping off your shirt. 

Will’s chest bare against yours as you slip off his. 

Will’s mouth on your neck, nibbling on your collarbone. 

Will looking deliciously vulnerable covered in crimson outside of the Hobbs house. 

The moan that slips out of your mouth as his tongue meets your nipple is involuntary; his wet mouth lays kisses and bites along the fat of your breast as he grips the other. 

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and hungry as he breathes your name out, his voice thick with lust coating his vocal cords like honey. His hands roam lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your hips. His kisses trail down from your sternum to your stomach, getting sloppier as his breath contrasts with the coolness of his spit. 

You gasp as he reaches your underwear, his fingers teasing the fabric. "Will," you whimper, your voice a mixture of need and desperation you’ve never heard from yourself before. 

He peers up at you, his silvery eyes filled with desire—desire for you. "Do you trust me?"

Without a moment of hesitation, you reply, "Yes."

With a smile both wicked and tender, he pulls your underwear down and spreads your legs, revealing you to him. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail, every curve, and every inch. He leans in, his breath hot against your slick center, and then his tongue flicks out, tasting you.

You arch your back, a moan escaping you as he explores you with his mouth. His fingers tease your entrance, rubbing just around it in circles while his tongue dances around your clit. 

You grip the sheets tightly, your nails digging into the fabric. You’d latch your hands onto his head but you're afraid you’d rip his scalp off his head. The sensations are overwhelming, not because of the pleasure coursing through you, but because it’s Will distributing it. 

Will's mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and probing, while his fingers continue to tease.

He was devouring you, and you were more than happy to be consumed. 

“Will," you moan, your voice breathy, desperate for more—anything else he’s willing to give. "Please." 

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust, then slides two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. You cry out, your body bucking against his mouth, your hips grinding against his fingers as you feel the prickle of his facial hair on your thighs as you squeeze them tighter around his head. 

“So good,” he whimpers into you, his voice a mixture of need and desperation while he works you closer to your ledge. He does nothing but continue his assault, his tongue flicking against your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You can feel the orgasm building in your stomach, the pressure mounting higher and higher as he desperately bucks into the bed for some form of friction.

"Will," you cry out, your voice louder this time, begging him for your release. He’s still so wordless—nothing but the vibrations of moans and grunts coming from him. Instead, he responds by increasing the pace of his fingers, his tongue more aggressive as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. 

You feel your body move for you, sporadically convulsing as your orgasm washes over you as he drinks up release, coating his mouth and fingers. He continues his movements while you come down from your high, his hands prying your thighs open as he fucks his tongue into you, savouring your taste.

You're left panting, your body trembling, and your mind swimming in a foggy haze of pleasure when he finally pulls away from you with an expression of satisfaction. He moves up your body, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. 

You can feel your slick coating his facial hair as he kisses you, rubbing it onto you. It’s a messy and filthy action but fuck does it get you going. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gruff but gentle. 

You can’t help but smile; he’s so fucking perfect. 

A grin coats your face. “Yeah.” He’s gorgeous; the light is low, the cool light of the moon peeking out the sides of the curtains. You can’t see Will in his entirety, but that’s fine. His face so close to yours, his body on top of yours—you don’t need to see him; just feel him. 

He smiles a small-relieved grin. “Good,” he whispers before pulling away. You didn’t realize he removed sweats until you felt the tip of his cock teasing you. A whine escapes from your lips as he rocks his dick back and forth along your pussy, coating himself in your cum. 

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, his pace deliberate, giving you time to adjust. Your brain short-circuits from how deeply he’s stretching you out every time he slips himself further inside you. 

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel so fucking good.”

You feel braindead; you've never been so pilant in your life. “More.” You manage to whisper out, your voice shaky. 

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and shallow. Just the feeling of his cock repeatedly entering you makes your brain feel fuzzy. You can feel every inch of him, the way he fills you, how tightly you’re wrapped around him. 

You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he picks up pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. “‘Missed you so fucking much,” he grumbles into your neck.

“M’sorry.” You whimper, “M’sorry, M’sorry.” You say fragmentedly, it took him nothing to fuck you dumb and yet your entire brain is filled with nothing but the repetition of his name. 

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wetness of your bodies, and the occasional moan that escapes from either of your lips—the both of you soaking up the feeling of each other in this moment. 

You can feel the pressure building up again—the familiar prickle in your abdomen. “Please, don’t fucking stop.” Your voice desperately cries out.  

He doesn’t slow down; instead, he picks up pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more desperate. You can feel him shaking, his body trembling as he nears his climax. Not bothering the silence himself anymore, he becomes just as loud as you, no longer speaking coherent praises, just moans and grunts that slowly raise in pitch with each stroke inside you he makes. 

Nothing but each other’s names spill from your lips in affirmation that you're both here, together. You cry out, your back arching off the bed in a desperate attempt to be closer as your orgasm crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around him, milking him as he spills himself inside you, as he collapses on top of you. You feel his breath against your neck in ragged pants as his cock continues to twitch inside you, the last of his cum filling you up. 

You wrap your arms around him, you're both spent. Bodies slick with cum and sweat, the euphoric high wearing off allowing the reality of how tired you’ve been the last couple to take hold of you. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You breathlessly ask. As sleepy as you are, you have to make an attempt to do what you came for—someone to talk to. 

Head on your chest, you can feel his smile form. “I was liking how little talking we were doing.” 

A laugh puffs from chest at his response, “That works too.” You say, gazing down at him. As if he could feel your stare, he raises his head to look at you, chin resting on your breast. “I’m happy.”

A small laugh now finds its way from his chest at the juvenile remark. As ridiculous as it seems, that is the best way to describe it. It doesn't need complex-flowery language, you're just glad to be in his presence, alive and healthy. You're just happy. 

And he understands, his gaze softens as a sincere smile crawls on his face, “Me too.”

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

[theemporium]

#13 with remus lupin 🥰

13. “You want me, don’t you?”

. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the group that nobody ever mentioned the tension between you and Remus. 

No one was quite sure why but it seemed to be a rule that everyone mutually agreed on, despite never having actually discussed the topic—both between themselves and between you and Remus. They just watched the endless flirting and pining and lingering gaze and accepted that maybe one day, one of you would act upon your feelings. 

And to be completely honest, you thought the same. 

But months passed and doubts started to grow and now you weren’t too sure. 

He would always sit next to you at breakfast, making your coffee and placing it in front of your plate before you could even say ‘good morning’. He would always offer to carry your books and accompany you to the library when you wanted a silent study session that the Gryffindor common room could never offer. He would always find excuses to be physical with you, whether it was an arm tugging you closer when you felt cold or thighs pressed against each other because he insisted you squished into the spot next to him on the couch.

But he never once asked you on a date, or made a move, or even just admitted that he did, in fact, like you.

You started overthinking and worrying and the realisation that you loved your best friend started to stress you out when you weren’t totally sure where he stood, so you did the only reasonable thing anyone would do in your situation—you started to distance yourself from Remus. 

Remus noticed. Of course he noticed pretty quickly when one morning you suddenly started sitting beside James and Lily. And then the confusion turned to hurt when he noticed how you’d always sit next to Sirius in large group settings. And then his feelings bubbled into something more when he noticed you sneaking away to the library with other classmates or even by yourself. 

However, it wasn’t until two weeks later when Remus actually confronted you on the matter. 

The Gryffindor common room was bursting with music, cheers and cheap alcohol smuggled past the professors as they celebrated another win against Slytherin that blasted them ahead in the Quidditch cup this year. You were happily settled in the corner, half-drank drink in hand and cheeks flushed as you laughed and cheered James and Sirius dancing on the tables. 

You hadn’t even noticed Remus approaching until he was right beside you, his head dipping down as his whispered words met your ear. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your head snapped around, lips parting in surprise as a wave of familiarity and longing hit you. Merlin, you had missed him more than you expected, and it made you feel a little pathetic. 

“Remus,” you said his name because you couldn’t say anything else.

“Glad to see you still remember who I am,” he answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. “I wasn’t sure considering you’ve done your best to ignore me the last fortnight.” 

Now, over the years, you had dealt with a lot of different moods from Remus. You prided yourself in being quite sufficient at devising how the wizard felt. Whether he was moody because he didn’t get enough sleep and just needed a nap to refresh himself. If he was anxious or hungry or pissed off or—most commonly—done with whatever nonsense the other boys were trying to rope him into (even if he would eventually agree). 

But this. 

This was something you knew all too well. Your mind racked for the date, counting back the date and you knew—you knew it was a few days until the next full moon. 

Remus Lupin was a kind man, a gentleman who respected everyone around him no matter what. But around the full moon—especially days before—he was something else. 

“C’mon, doll, y’know I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” he murmured, reaching to grip your chin between his fingers. “Why were you avoiding me?” 

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat, your cheeks flushing under his watchful gaze. His lips were twitched up a little, so close to a smirk. “I haven’t been avoiding—“

He lightly tsked, shaking his head softly. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” 

“Remus, it’s not your fault, I swear—“

“And now you’re avoiding the question,” he hummed and his thumb lightly traced the bottom of your lip. “Answer the question.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, your heart racing and mind whirling at the way he was looking at you, the way his fingers traced along your lips and his body moved towards you until you were pressed against the wall, Remus blocking you out from the rest of the party. 

“You want me, don’t you?” he murmured, his eyes darkening at the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Your pretty little head is just getting in the way, isn’t it?”

“How—“ 

“I like you too, doll,” he murmured, his hand now cupping your cheek as he tilted your head up to catch his gaze. “But I don’t like when you ignore me for two weeks for no bloody reason.” 

“M’sorry,” you whispered to him, swallowing a little when his thumb pushed against your lips, parting them and slowly sliding his finger into your mouth. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he mused as your lips wrapped around his finger with ease, your wide eyes staring up at him. “But it’s fine, I can think of plenty of ways for you to make it up to me, hm? What do you think?” 

All you could do was nod, letting him take your hand and guide you far away from the party to show you just how much he enjoyed being ignored.

.

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate part 5

Cazriel x f!Reader 

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (epilogue)

Summary: Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Warnings: angst, illness, discussions of death, smut, minors dni

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: a short one, but I wanted to update this! It’s not over yet, I promise

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Cassian shot back at her. 

Azriel watched as the bond snapped. Counted the seconds it took her to reply. Fifty six. Less than a minute for his heart to crush. Maybe it was his fault, for assuming it might fix everything. Still, an angry and dangerous hurt filled him. The type of hurt that would make him reckless, that would make him say and do things he’d regret, so he left. Left her and Cassian in some kind of stand off. Did it make him a coward? To turn his back and walk away? Maybe, but it was the safe option. The option to cause the least harm. 

The weight of the last several months settled on him. 

You deserve it. 

Maybe she had a point. Even if he didn’t regret the things he’d done in the past, it had to balance out somewhere. Why would he deserve anything good? 

Azriel sought out Rhys, he couldn’t handle Cassian right now, but he needed an outlet. Some way to get all of his anger and hurt out. His brother didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, but stayed in the ring with him until they were both covered with sweat and filled with exhaustion. 

It didn’t work. 

-

Mates. Mates. Mates. The obnoxious voice in the back of her mind repeated. She wouldn’t lie to herself, they were telling the truth. Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Could fate throw a wrench in plans she hadn’t actually made? She should consider herself blessed to find two mates, but she never imagined herself mated this young. Not before her first century. They probably didn’t either. 

Her mind drifted to the state of their world, of the impending conflicts constantly around the corner. Could she forgive herself if she ignored them? Ignored herself? Only to have it ripped away unexpectedly. 

It was not the time to make a decision. A few weeks passed, and they all made careful circles around each other. Back to ignoring, thrown back to the past, and it was miserable. She was miserable. This wasn’t the past she wanted to be thrown into. 

Azriel had turned his back. Azriel walked away. Again, like a gods-damned coward. Cassian left after she kicked him out. If she accepted the bond, is this what waited for her? Constant fights, turning their backs on each other, always falling out and making up, only for everything to crash down again. 

Deep in herself, she knew she couldn’t go centuries without them, but she wasn’t sure she could handle centuries of that. Miserable with them, or without them. 

-

It started with a barely noticeable shake in her hand, followed by increased headaches. Not often, but more than usual. It didn’t impair her life, not significantly, but it was enough to bring her to Madja.

The healer looked … contemplative, and worried. She knew it would be bad news, at this point she was just waiting to hear how bad. 

“I need to look into it more.” 

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. A few weeks passed, and it was all she could think about. Even pushing thoughts of the mating bond aside. She’d given up on bugging Madja, who said she’d call her if she had any news. Finally, she received a letter, a summons with little detail, and burst out of the library as fast as she could, winnowing as soon as she cleared the wards. 

“What is it?” She didn’t bother with a pleasant greeting, especially when she saw the look on her face. After working alongside her for a few years, she knew that one, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “What is it?” She repeated, lower this time. Madja motioned for her to sit, she obeyed, and the female took a chair across from her. 

“It’s killing you.” At least she didn’t mince her words. 

“Any more details?” 

“It could be three years, it could be three hundred, could be a thousand.” 

“Right,” she swallowed, tilting her head towards the ceiling, willing the tears away. 

“We’ll find ways to manage it, I have more contacts to reach out to.” Madja continued, gently. 

“Manage,” she repeated faintly. 

“Have you told your mates about it?” 

She winced, taking a breath to center herself. “We’re not on speaking terms.” 

Madja clicked her tongue, “it could be three years, it could be three hundred, maybe a thousand. Do you want to live the rest of your life ignoring them? Is your grudge worth it?”

No. It wasn’t. She didn’t need to say it, Madja read the look on her face, returning it with one of approval. 

Tonight. She would do it tonight, before she ran out of time. Walking back to the Townhouse, she thought of how she would do it. First step would be to get the two of them alone. Then … maybe just tell them she’s ready. She didn’t bother going back to the library, there was no way she could focus. Not now. 

-

“What if we’re not ready?” 

Each word sliced into her, carving her heart open for them to see. Her eyes shuttered closed, taking a few moments to trap the tears behind, to will them away. 

All she could manage was a stiff nod, before making a quick exit - nearly at a sprint, if she’s being honest. She made it all the way out of the townhouse, winnowing down to the sidra, to a secluded spot near the river, before she broke. 

Knees hit the pavement, gravel embedding in her skin, her hands cradling her head as tears flowed, leaving a salty taste on her lips. 

“Thought I might find you here.” 

Amren. For fucks sake. Out of everyone to find comfort in, Amren was at the bottom of her list, not that she wanted comfort or company. Right now, she wanted to wallow in herself. 

A small, but surprisingly strong hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back to her feet. Silver eyes looked at her with a mix of distaste and pity.

“What?”

Those eyes narrowed in warning, but she didn’t care. Nothing could hurt now, not as she let numbness take over, and let herself slip into that void without feeling, the inbetween state where nothing mattered. 

“You’re all idiots.” 

A broken laugh left her, one hand rubbing her forehead. She could’ve sworn Amren’s blood red lips curved at the corners, however briefly. 

“Do you have any good advice?” 

Amren ignored the sneaky barb, tilting her head to assess her. As always, it felt like she was stripping her bare, somehow staring into the dark depths of her soul. “The three of you need to drag your heads out of your asses.” She scowled, that wasn’t much better. “What exactly did he say?” 

“What if we’re not ready?” she quoted. 

“It was a question, then.” 

“Not the way he said it.” 

“You make too many assumptions,” Amren clicked her tongue, finger running across her ruby necklace. Giant, almost gaudy, gems. But, the ancient creature managed to pull them off. 

-

Azriel was conned into picking up a tonic for Mor, who was currently acting like a child over her cough, but he didn’t mind doing it - not really. 

He startled when he scented her there. After the conversation a few days ago, a question Cassian meant rhetorically, she’d disappeared before they could follow her, and had been a virtual ghost the last few days. They were ready, had been ready, but resentment still lingered. 

Respecting her privacy would be the smart thing to do, but bits of her conversation with Madja snuck through, and his shadows investigated. They’d been restless. Wherever she retreated to, they couldn’t find her. 

“I heard back from my friend in Dawn, she said she’d be willing to take a look, but she’s not sure she’ll find anything I couldn’t.” Madja sounded a bit disappointed. To look at what? 

“It’s worth a shot.” 

“Have you told them?” 

“I did. They’re not,” her voice cracked, “ready.” 

“Have you told them about your … condition?” 

“No. I won’t, they’ll probably think I’m guilting them into it.” 

“It’s not going away,” Madja said, maybe a tad harshly. Azriel had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about. “As far as we know, we’re not going to cure it, this is about management.” 

“You’ve already said that,” your voice was dead, flat. “It would be nice to have a timeline.” 

“Like I told you before, it could be three years or three hundred. We’re in uncharted territory.” 

Azriel couldn’t handle it anymore, couldn’t handle being this close to you without speaking, and strode for the door, knuckles rapping against the wood. 

Madja swung it open, raising her brows. 

“Came to pick something up for Mor,” he said, but his eyes darted behind her - where you sat, head buried between your hands, forearms propped on your knees. 

“I think you need to talk,” Madja said, and slipped past him, leaving them alone. She didn’t look up, keeping her hands shielding her face. 

Slowly, he crossed, stopping to kneel in front of her, peeling her hands away. Eyes wide, brimming with tears slowly escaping, she asked “how much did you hear?” 

“Enough.” 

She tried to force a smile, and it failed miserably. Shock and realization set in as he looked at her, as he tried to read the swirling emotions on her face. He’d have to watch her die. Three years, three hundred, a thousand. Eternity didn’t feel like enough time with you. He’d be haunted by the knowledge that some day he’d lose his mate. As a result of all of their actions. Of something so fucking preventable, if all could’ve swallowed their pride. 

She deserves someone better. Someone who hadn’t fucked everything up. Maybe it made him a bad person, a selfish asshole, but she was his. His mate, the person destined for him - sent by the Mother, the Cauldron, Fate, or whatever. Azriel wouldn’t let go of her, wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers again. 

Cassian needed to know, but they needed to figure out a way to tell him without him slipping into a pit of misery and self loathing. 

“Might as well tell him now,” she read his expression, the unsaid words in his eyes. For once, she didn’t protest as he helped her up, tugging her to his chest and winnowing to the Townhouse.

-

Cassian took one look at her expression, at the tear stained cheeks, at the grave look on Azriel’s face and knew something was wrong. Something beyond whatever happened earlier. 

Poison. Side effects. No cure. Years or centuries. He didn’t let his eyes leave you as you explained, as tears streamed down your face - Azriel filling in the words where he could, admitting he overheard their conversation picking something up for Mor. 

Beautiful eyes stared at him as you finished, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He’d never been great with words, so he stood, grabbing her and pulling her into a tight hug. Squeezing until she said she couldn’t breathe, and then only loosening enough for her to not suffocate, not willing to let her go yet. 

“Madja’s contacting someone in Dawn,” he said, still holding on to you, “there’s still a chance.” 

“A better chance at management,” she said into his chest. Cassian didn’t want to believe it. Between all of them, with Rhys and Madja and whoever else they could get in contact with, they’d find something. He needed to cling to that hope, to hold onto it as tight as he could. If he didn’t, he’d fall deep, deep down somewhere he didn’t know he could drag himself out of. 

-

“You’ve hurt me, both of you. Turned your backs on me more times than I care to count. How do I push past that? How do I forget it? How do I trust you won’t do it again?” 

It felt like she was asking for an answer, begging for some kind of reassurance, an example that would soothe that feeling and hurt. 

“You don’t,” Cassian said. She frowned at him. “You let us prove it to you.”

“You still have nightmares, right?” She tensed, as if she wanted to avoid the question, and wanted to lie about it. Azriel raised one brow, shoulder swirling around his neck. She couldn’t lie to him, even if he tried to tell them to quit spying, they still kept an eye on her. 

A muscle in her jax flexed. “Right.” 

“Stay the night with us. Let us help.” Azriel didn’t phase it as a question. He needed to help. Every instinct roared at him to get her closer, to protect her from any threats - visible or not.

“You can come on your own feet, or over my shoulder,” Cassian threw a grin her way. 

She chuckled, shoulders relaxing at the old threat - one used several times by Cassian. “I can handle walking down the hall. If I have a nightmare, I’ll come.” 

“Save yourself the walk.” 

They had one of their standoffs, each of them crossing their arms - almost in sync. Azriel pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. It was so normal. It gave him hope they could build back what they had before everything went to hell. 

She might accept the bond, but Azriel was smarter than to think that would fix everything. The trust they had, it might take years to build back up again. A challenge would be good for them. Sure, it might suck, it might be difficult, but he didn’t doubt they’d come out closer because of it. 

-

“If you don’t relax, you’ll never sleep.” 

“I’m perfectly relaxed,” she snipped back. It wasn’t completely true, actually it was mostly a lie. Something about sharing their bed now, with what she knew, felt different. 

“Liar,” Azriel countered. At least she could always count on him to call her out. 

Cassian ran a hand up her thigh, stopping where her night dress ended. It was a particularly short one. The first one she could grab before he showed up in her room. She’d intended to walk there on her own, but he’d come to throw her over his shoulder anyway, a playful gesture as she laughed and half heartedly hit the space above his wings. 

“Need a little … help loosening up?” 

Gods, his mouth was so close to her ear, lips almost brushing over, breath caressing her neck. She tensed for another reason. Azriel’s fingers tilted her jaw up. Hazel eyes searched hers. Do you want this?

Did she? Fuck, she really did. Yes. 

A nod, not directed at her, and Cassian’s hand drifted, fingers dragging up the hem of the silky fabric, exposing more of her skin. 

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, Azriel’s finger tugged it free, brushing over it. His knuckles ran over her jaw, Cassian’s hand made its way up. She didn’t know where to focus, not as Azriel leaned in to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth, as Cassian gripped her leg, tugging it back over her hips, dress pushed up to her hips. Exposed. Exposed and nothing worn underneath it. 

She heard them swallow at the same time, vaguely seeing Azriel’s throat bob in the moonlight. 

Being touched by them was safe. This was safe, she emphasized to her mind, not giving it a chance to take over her thoughts, refusing to let it cloud her senses.

Cassian was teasing, fingers drifting around the outsides, never actually touching her where she wanted to. Azriel traced her cheekbones, jaw, collarbone, around the curve of her breasts. 

“This is not relaxing,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing back against Cassian for emphasis. He let out a short breath, gripping her thigh instead. A low whine left her. Now he was too far. He laughed, and her cheeks flushed. “Are you going to make me beg?” 

“Not this time,” he said, just as Azriel’s hand crept under her dress, pushing back up to pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Two of Cassian’s fingers ran up her folds. 

Gods, this was heaven. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? His fingers swirled around her clit, Az palming her breast now, switching back and forth between the two of them. How had she gone so long without this? 

Swirling, pinching, flicking, pressing, the sensations spreading across her body mixed into one. Just one state of pleasure, of confusion and overdrive. She wiggled, arched her back, let out moans she didn’t have time to think about. Her thighs clenched as one finger slipped inside of her. Who’s was it? She didn’t know, didn’t care, as long as it never left. 

“Good,” Cassian murmured, “let go for us sweetheart.” 

You did. You screamed - loud enough a hand clamped over your mouth, one of them laughing. 

Slowly, the one finger left her, and she missed it. Didn’t quite like the empty feeling left behind. But, she was distracted as the hand - it must’ve been Cassian then, crossed over her … to Azriel. 

He met her eyes as he wrapped his lips around it, tasting her. Fuck. Just one hit, one taste, and she was in over her head. 

“I want to … to you-” she babbled, words nearly nonsensical. 

Cassian laughed behind her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Another time.” 

She pouted. Fucking pouted. Gods they’d really turned her into a mess. 

“We promise,” Azriel pushed some of the hair back from her face. 

“Feeling relaxed now?” Cass asked. 

If she said no, would they do it again? 

“If you lie, I'll know.” 

Fine. “I’m relaxed.” 

“Good, now sleep,” Cassian rested his hand on her stomach. Too appropriate of a place. 

“How am I supposed to sleep after that?” 

“Close your eyes, think sleepy thoughts. She elbowed him. He had some of the worst advice. He countered by pushing her towards Azriel. The male didn’t hesitate to roll her to her other side, now curving his body around hers, holding her tight enough she couldn’t escape if she wanted to. “I regret that,” Cassian muttered, but shifted closer, arm draping over her to rest on Azriel. 

The three of them, curled up together, just how it should be. Fate designed it this way, the Mother put the three of them together for a reason. No matter how limited, she’d take whatever she could get. 

taglist:  @infinitely-kate, @foreverrandomwritings, @anuttellaa, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @bookishdeer, @sidthedollface2, @mis-lil-red, @acourtofbatboydreams, @blessthepizzaman, @hallucynatiing, @summerloversposts, @i-am-infinite, @fanfiction-for-my-soul, @brandywineeeee, @oktievia, @inloveallthetime let me know if you'd like to be added! sorry it didn't let me tag everyone!

[bullet-prooflove]

A Fucking Saint: Mikey Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @savemeaimeemann @mckinleysbones @kmc1989

Companion piece to:

Mess - Mikey tries to prove to you both he made the right decision by leaving.

The Diagnosis - Mikey recieves an explaination regarding his behaviour and addiction issues.

Save It (NSFW) - Mikey shows you how sorry he is for all the shit he's put you through over the years.

It’s four months after the break up that Mikey finds himself sitting on the sidewalk across from your house. He has a black eye from the fight he got into a couple of days ago and a bottle of beer in his hand as he stares at the warm glow that emanates from behind the closed blinds, blocking him out. He could just walk right up to the door, rap his knuckles on it and you’d let him in, he knows you would but that’s the problem.

It's too easy to fall into that pattern, it’s too easy to hurt you again.

He's tried to keep his distance since last month but he finds himself coming back the same way he always does, like some fucked up feral cat. He’s tried to forget you, he’s gotten high, gotten drunk, gotten fucked but nothing seems to help because his heart wants what it wants and that’s you.

He doesn’t realise Richie’s found him, not until the other man drops down on the sidewalk beside him, their shoulders bumping. He’d cut out of their drinking session early because he couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head. He’s been talking about you a lot lately, how good you, how pure you are. You were a fucking saint to put up with him as long as you did, you’re still fucking are.

“It’s bookclub night.” He finds himself saying as he takes a sip from his beer. “They go around to each other’s houses, discuss the book for about fifteen minutes before the wine kicks in and things get a little wild.”

His version of wild is setting fire to his neighbour’s car because he let his dog shit on the lawn. Yours is dancing on a table in the bar the two of you used to drink in. It’s just another reason the two of you don’t work, Mikey, he escalates things, you’re the opposite. You’re always a soothing presence, a calming balm to his ignition point.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Richie says, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he stares at the house. “It’s not fair to you or to her…”

“I know.” Mikey says gruffly as he takes another slug from his beer. “I just can’t seem to help myself. It’s like I do all this crazy shit and then I get this moment, this moment of perfect clarity and all I want is to be with her again, to curl up in her arms and it tears me up inside because I can’t do that anymore, I can’t do that to her again…”

He’s crying now and he doesn’t know where these tears are coming from because Mikey, he doesn’t do this, he doesn’t express this type of emotion. He roars and he rages and he throws shit about, he doesn’t break no matter how close he feels to the edge. He never breaks.

Richie’s arm comes to rest around his shoulders, squeezing tightly and Mikey wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, the shame starting to filter through his system.

“I’m a fucking mess.” He says to his friend. “I’m no good for anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Richie tells him but Mikey’s not listening, he’s taking out another pill from the bottle that’s almost a permanent fixture on his coat pocket. He places it on his tongue and chases it with a sip of beer.

Richie sighs because for a moment he thought there may be a possibility of getting through to Mikey but that windows gone and now he needs to get his friend out of here before he does something he regrets.

“Come on Mikey.” He says helping the other man to his feet.

The oxy is already starting to kick in, Mikey’s eyes are glazing over, his movements sluggish. He manages to get him squared away in the car, the seat belt in place before the door to your house opens and you step out onto the porch, a hardback book tucked under your arm as you lock the door behind you.

“She’s fucking beautiful isn’t she?” Mikey says his forehead coming to rest upon the glass as he watches you with half lidded eyes. “Best thing that ever happened to me and I fucked it up.”

Richie doesn’t say anything because Mikey’s right, he did fuck it up and he’s going to keep fucking it up.

Love Mikey? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 6

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Flirting and talk of sex. We are starting to pine! Summary: Spending more time around Javi is as awkward as it is anything else, but spending some time with the girls has you approaching the situation a little differently after weeks of uncertainty. Notes: Introducing Elisa! Inner conflict, forced proximity, and a little soul searching are the name of the game.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

Days tick by until it becomes weeks, and every apartment you look at is deemed either unsafe or unfit or otherwise unacceptable. The rent is too high or it doesn’t come furnished, or they don’t allow dogs. Señora Perrín had told you Chi-Chi couldn’t come to her son’s house because she generally hated men, and had said you should either keep her or bring her to a shelter.

It broke your heart that she could just give the precious guard dog up so easily and you’d been next to tears cuddling Chi-Chi on the living room floor when Javier came home from a stakeout. There was no discussion about it. Javier had just given the dog a half smile and said it was a damn good thing she liked him, because she was already settled.

On this particular morning you’re up before Javier which is incredible in and of itself. Sitting at the table with the local paper circling newspaper ads for apartments you haven’t already seen feels futile, but you have to keep trying.

Javi rolls his shoulders as he shuffles into the kitchen. He had been needing to start the coffee pot, but you’re already there, the pot full except for the cup at your elbow. “Morning.” He grunts, walking by the table and snatching up your already lit cigarette for a quick drag. You smoke the same ones he does and he’s never been shy about sharing a cigarette. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling the nicotine flooding his system. “Ran out last night.” He explains. You’re looking in the paper again and he almost asks why when it’s obvious you are settled here, but he doesn’t. You might want your own space and he doesn’t feel like it’s his place to press. You might share marks and have managed to be somewhat friendly to each other, but it hasn’t gone beyond that.

“Morning.” The ritual is usually the opposite, but he seems to adjust alright today. And today, like every other, you drag your eyes away from the sliver of tanned skin that shows at his waistline when he reaches up for a mug or to scratch the back of his neck like he does when he’s tired. “You wanna take the rest of my pack to work? I can pick more up from that corner store that stocks American while I’m apartment hunting.”

“I’ll stop on the way.” He shakes his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking that first blessed sip, “Fuuuuuuuck.” He groans again in appreciation. “I don’t know how, but your coffee is always so good.”

“I refuse to give up my secret.” The pinch of cinnamon you add to the coffee grounds whenever you make a pot has turned out to be his unexpected favorite. It warms you deep in your chest with something you can’t name, but you always smile at the compliment. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want breakfast.” He rarely sticks around long enough in the mornings to eat anything freshly cooked, but at least he’s eating something.

“I don’t have time.” He admits. “Fucking overslept as it is.” He’s been pulling a lot of late nights, but he’s still been insisting on going in on time. Pablo getting fucking elected to office has lit a fire under his ass to prove the bastard is dirty.

It would be domestic — mothering, even — to suggest he take something with him so you swallow it off of the tip of your tongue. “Take my cigarettes, then,” you insist, putting the pack in his hand. Instead you offer something far less invasive. “Don’t waste the time stopping. I got my column in yesterday so I’m free as a bird to get more today.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grateful smile and nods as he takes another sip of the coffee before he checks his watch. “Shit.” He gulps down another mouthful and dumps the cup in the sink. “I’ll take care of that when I get home.” He’s noticed you’ve cleaned up when he’s too busy and he doesn’t want you to think you need to do that. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you later.” Maybe tonight. Maybe not. Sometimes he runs into the apartment for something and then goes out again and you don’t see him until the next day. He doesn’t ever stop working, night and day.

He grabs his keys. “See you.” He manages before the phone in his pocket starts ringing. “Shit. Peña. Yeah, yeah I’m on my way.” He grunts as he closes the door and jogs down the hall towards the front of the building.

"Well girl..." Your eyes slide to the dog as she watches Javier leave, whining mournfully in her well-claimed spot on the living room rug. "Looks like it's just you and me again today. You wanna stretch out on my lap while I call landlords?"

******

The morning goes surprisingly well and there’s even time to meet Connie and one of her work friends for lunch at Steve’s insistence. “We could be working.” Javi grumbles as he lights up the last cigarette from the pack you had given him.

“It wouldn’t kill you to socialize once in a while,” Steve reminds him, nudging him toward whatever little place Connie and her friend had deemed appropriate for lunch.

“I socialize.” Javi snorts, even though he’s not once been to see the girls since you’ve unexpectedly moved in. It’s been limited to his hand in the shower every fucking night.

“When?” Steve grins, infinitely amused. “When you’re grumbling at paperwork in the office? When you’re sleeping? Are you even going to that brothel anymore? You don’t even leave the office at lunch like you used to.” He used to go to see the working girls on lunch break or after work. He knows it — they pretty much all unofficially know it. But not lately. He just doesn’t know what’s changed.

“Why are you so goddamn interested in where I stick my dick?” Javi cuts his eyes over at his partner before he yanks the door open and walks into the little restaurant. It’s annoying that Steve has clocked his habits and even more annoying that he’s noticed the change. He hasn’t told Steve about you. Neither you being his soulmate or living with him temporarily.

“Because you’re fuckin cranky when you don’t get any,” Steve mutters at his back, letting Peña bust past him into the place while he trails behind and snickers.

He rolls his eyes and pulls a chair out at a table. “You’re entirely too fucking cheerful.” He grumbles, wishing he had just told Steve he was working through lunch. He’s exhausted and honestly needs a day off.

“Just needed a little sunshine in my day,” the other man announces, beaming when he sees his own soulmate and wife walk through the door.

“Sunshine.” He huffs, crushing out a cigarette but immediately perking up when a very attractive brunette comes in behind Connie. Obviously an extra and Javi decides that a little flirting is exactly what he needs.

"Hey!" Connie Murphy comes breezing in with a smile on her face and a kiss for her husband. "Sorry I'm late, honey."

"Hey." Steve accepts the gesture of affection readily, taking both of her cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips to hers with a happy hum.

"Javier." When Connie stands up again at the table, she gestures to the brunette who came in in back of her. "This is my friend Elisa." To her friend, she explains: "Javier works with Steve."

Javi gets out of his chair and shakes her hand, enjoying how soft and warm it is. She's got a nice set of tits, and he's not feeling guilty about looking after he had that conversation with you. "Nice to meet you." He greets her and pulls out her chair for her as they both sit down.

"Are you another...janitor at the embassy? Like Steve?" Elisa asks, smirking slightly because that seems to be such a lame excuse.

"No, actually I'm CIA." Javi lies with a straight face. He glances at Steve. "But that's classified, so don't tell anybody."

The Murphys exchange expressions of raised eyebrows with each other and then with Javi, as if to tell him to cool it with the sarcasm. Somebody can and will overhear him and take him seriously.

Javi continues on. “I’m here to hunt communists and prevent the Marxist invasion from Cuba.” He’s lit another cigarette and holds it in his hand. “The janitor thing, that was you?” He asks Steve, who hums unhappily as Javi continues to talk. “No, that’s just a cover.” He tells her, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Elisa laughs, slightly unsure but willing to bet he's nearly telling the truth and that he's doing it in spite of the Murphys. She likes Connie, but the American woman is a little too earnest for her own good. "Thank you for being so honest," she says to Javier instead, and picks up on the overt honesty played like a lie tempo at the table. "Just so you know," she adds playfully. "I'm a communist guerrilla."

Javi laughs, along with Connie, and Steve gives a halfhearted smile. “Perfect.” Javi tells her with a wink.

"Yeah," Steve huffs, looking between the other two at the table before bringing his eyes back to his wife and nearly shrugging. It's obvious Elisa and Javi are on some kind of wavelength that he and Connie are not. "Perfect." He says the word but huffs it doubtfully.

Javi smirks at his partner, picking up on his mood but he doesn’t pay it any attention. “Tell me, how did you just start working at the clinic?” Javier asks Elise, as he looks over the menu. Catching sight of a meal that he thinks you would like since you like those falafel things and hating that he’s thinking about you right now.

"Everyone needs a job, don't they?" Elisa poses, acting like the answer doesn't quite matter when it truly doesn't. Not really anyway. Her work as a nurse is not the work she will be known for.

“That’s right.” Javi blows a ring of smoke up into the air and grins a Connie. He likes Murphy’s wife and it’s obvious that she’s the one that is the more outgoing of the two of them.

“So,” Connie poses, trying to brighten the mood at the table. “Lunch?”

“That sounds good.” Javi glances at the menu again and smirks at his partner. “Need some help?” He asks, knowing Steve’s reading comprehension of Spanish is worse than his speaking abilities.

“Shut up, Peña.” Steve mutters, grateful when Connie leans in to help him instead. His grasp of Spanish is growing, but at a snail’s pace.

Javi snickers quietly, feeling a little better after giving him some shit back after having to listen to Steve bring up soulmates every chance he gets. Thank god he hadn’t told him who his soulmate is, or that you are staying with him right now.

Connie ends up ordering for Steve despite his semi-valiant attempts at pronouncing the menu items, and the amusement at the table lifts the mood considerably. It’s not often any of them get to laugh anymore, and even a moment of it seems to relax everyone considerably.

“It’s good that you can meet us for lunch.” Javi tells them as they finish their sodas and wait for refills.

"I've got to see my soulmate sometimes," Connie teases lightly, leaning into Steve's side. "Dinners aren't a sure thing, so lunch seemed like the best time."

“And that means I get to eat.” Steve huffs, cutting his eyes back at Javi. His partner has a habit of living off coffee and cigarettes.

"Do you not eat?" Elisa asks Javier, curious that he seems to be getting the ire of his friends.

“Too busy working.” Javi shrugs one shoulder. “We grab something if there’s time.”

"Food is one of life's few pleasures." she returns, although she can think of quite a few other pleasures this man might be fun to indulge in with. "Pleasures are few and far between."

Javi takes another drag off his cigarette and grins at Elisa. “You’re right.” He admits.

"So why deny yourself?" She asks, nodding toward the direction their server is approaching from.

“Why indeed?” Javi thinks about you for a moment, before he pushes that out of his mind. You don’t want to do anything about your status so he shouldn’t worry about it.

"Yeah." Steve looks between the two of them with absolute incredulousness. "Why?" He really feels like he should be a reason but Javi won't say a goddamn word about his soulmate so he can't say too much.

Javi rolls his eyes and leans back as the server sets the meal down in front of you. “Hurry up.” He tells his partner. “We have to go meet Carillo after this.”

"Right." Steve snorts, ready to dig into his lunch right away. "No rest for the wicked."

“Never is.” Javi snorts and wishes he had a beer, or a glass of whiskey. When he left the apartment, you had still been asleep. He wonders what you are up to.

"Are you particularly wicked?" Elisa asks, partially for herself and partially because it amuses her to scandalize Connie with that type of question.

“Some might think so.” He admits, thinking about the question from an outsider’s point of view. “I’m flawed, but at the base of my life, I want to do good.”

That seems to surprise the other Americans at the table, but the Murphys choose not to tease – instead settling into their meal and deciding that a small amount of talk amongst themselves is more polite. Javier and Elisa seem to have slipped into a private conversation at the drop of a hat.

"Is that what you're doing?" She asks, picking up her fork and tilting her head toward the man beside her. Elisa didn't come here to flirt, but the man she has been introduced to is interesting and it won't be the worst thing in the world to chat him up for a half hour or more. "Doing good?"

“Some days it doesn’t seem that way.” Javi admits, eating his own food without really paying attention to it. “Not like health care.” More of what he does is unhealth care.

"Health care is...different than people expect it to be." Elisa tells him honestly. Not to mention that that is not the focus of her life. It was once, but not now. "Sometimes you wonder if you have done any good at all."

“I feel the same way.” He agrees, wondering if it’s that way everywhere, with any job. Maybe his pop was right and growing things was the answer all along.

"Maybe that's part of being human?" She wonders aloud, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

“Who knew you could get philosophical over lunch?” Javi snorts, although he had actually excelled in philosophy in college.

She smiles, admittedly charmed, and she will have to confess later that Connie was right to warn her about her husband's partner. "I would have looked forward to this lunch even more if I had known."

He smirks slightly and glances over at the server as they refill his drink. Nodding his thanks before he looks back at her. “Well, now you can look forward to the next one.”

“I definitely will.” Elisa agrees, and the smile on her lips promises that she hopes to be looking forward to much more than that.

******

When a familiar car pulls up down the block, Freckles is the one that recognizes it. “Holy shit.” She huffs, turning towards the room where Helena and Vanessa are lounging. Helena hasn’t been taking clients, but she had been here to pack. Gathering all the things that she wanted and giving away the things she didn’t. “She’s here.”

“Who?” Helena asks, her attention to focused on carefully braiding Vanessa’s wet hair to achieve some natural waves after it dries. A new style she wanted to try.

She says your name, lifting a brow as she looks at the other two women. “I wonder if she’s just here for a follow up interview for an article.”

“Can’t be for us…” Helena’s head pops up immediately. She knows that you are their friend, but it would be a simple enough thing to see them outside of a professional setting if you just wanted to spend time with friends. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” Vanessa frowns slightly. “She wasn’t happy with us knowing about her and Javier. She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t.”

“You think she came because she’s mad at us?” Freckles asks, frowning at the thought.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think she will yell at us, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The other woman shrugs. “Maybe she’s tired of Javi.” She snorts. “She does like eating pussy.”

“You think they’re fucking already?” Helena asks, frowning doubtfully. “They seemed…at odds with each other.”

“I didn’t mean they were fucking.” She corrects. “Just tired of him. Isn’t she staying with him since her apartment was raided?”

“Yeah.” Helena nods, shifting up from the couch to peak through the window. You’re just out of sight so you must be on your way in. “With the sweetest dog.”

“Javier has a dog in his apartment?” Freckles finds that hilarious and throws her head back laughing. “How domestic.”

“You know the guard dog?” Helena and Vanessa laugh along with her. They have, at various points now, all been to your apartment. “The sweet girl who sits at the top of the stairs? She is with them now.”

“But doesn’t she hate men?” Her eyes widen for a moment before she giggles again. “I can’t see Javi sneaking around his own apartment.”

“I can’t imagine he’s hiding from both of them.” Freckles shrugs. “Maybe that’s why she’s here. Like you said.”

"We will see." Helena knows that even if you are upset, you wouldn't take it out on them. You weren't that way, more of a defender than an abuser.

The knock on the door comes a moment later, but the door doesn’t open immediately. Unlike other clients, you have always been respectful of their privacy.

Freckles wanders over to the door and opens it, smiling brightly when she sees you and pulls you in for a hug. "It is good to see you!"

You came here with a purpose. You did. But seeing the three of them together — stunning women who know you far too well — seems to spook you out of your resolve. “H—hi,” you murmur instead, kissing her cheek and giving her a gentle squeeze back. Not too tight. Not too close.

"Come in." She offers immediately, stepping back and opening the door wider. "Unless you are here to just see one of us?" She asks curiously, wondering if it is simply the business of pleasure that brings you here.

“I wasn't sure who would be here.” It feels like more of a confession than you meant it to, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Okay.” Freckles glances over at the other two. “We can leave if you want to talk to Helena?” She offers.

"No–no, I..." You deflate a little, realizing that you're far less sure of this plan than you thought you were while driving here. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have come."

Vanessa frowns and shakes her head even though Helena is still working on it. “Don’t be silly.” She chides. “You are always welcomed here.”

"I don't want to intrude." Also, you somehow forgot about the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, which has your own reflection staring back at you in ways you would rather avoid.

“Why would you be intruding?” For a moment, Freckles wants to ask if you were checking to see if Javier is here, or has been here, but she doesn’t. You do seem upset, but not at them.

"I don't know." And that is all the more confusing, which brings you from flustered and embarrassed to emotional all at once. A single chin wobble feels like six with the hyperaware state you're in right now and you look around at three pairs of beautiful eyes that only make you feel all the more ridiculous. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not feeling well, I guess." You turn to go, ready to haul ass and hide yourself in Chi-Chi's fur and try to blot out the world, but Helena has gotten up to block the way in a flash.

“Stay.” She urges you, reaching out and taking your shoulders in her hands to physically turn you back towards the room. “Please.”

"I haven't...been myself lately," you admit, looking around at the three of them again.

“Because of what we told you?” Helena frowns, feeling guilty as she guides you over to the bed.

"Not...directly?" She has you sit down, and the other two girls come to sit on the bed with you, gathered around you as if you were all simply here to gossip instead of you having found yourself in the middle of an existential crisis. "It's a long story."

“If you don’t want to talk…” Vanessa senses that you are pent up and she puts her hand on your thigh. “We can always find other ways to entertain ourselves until you do want to talk.”

“I’m not going to make you do that anymore.” The realization, swift and certain, makes you swallow the lump you hadn’t sensed forming in your throat. Coming here may have been a very bad idea, actually… “I—I mean…I thought that’s what I wanted. And why I came. But I don’t think so anymore.”

Helena reaches out and touches your cheek gently. “Javier?” She asks softly, aware that you might be feeling guilty. “He hasn’t come to see us either. If that’s what you want to know.”

"It doesn't have anything to do with Javier." As soon as it's out of your mouth – defensive and swift – you flinch and shake your head. "It doesn't have to do with him being...what he is to me, I mean."

“Oh.” The girls exchange looks but don’t say anything. There’s obviously something wrong, but they won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. They just wait.

It all comes pouring out in the face of their solid sympathy. The fights you and Javier had in the beginning, everything Alex said. The way every passing week that you live with Javier has you convinced that the universe must have been wrong. That you have stopped being able to even glance past a mirror on any sort of daily basis for fear of what you will find staring back at you. "I thought I was just lonely," you admit, under the gaze of three sets of worried eyes. "I thought I just needed to find some company to feel better again. But I walked through your door and just felt like I would be demeaning any of you by asking you to take me to bed."

Helena frowns and Vanessa and Freckles shake their heads in disagreement. “Do you think that we just fuck you because you pay us?” Freckles asks, folding her arms over her chest. “Because we don’t. We enjoy our time with you. In and out of bed.”

"I'm not thinking straight right now." The wording is unfortunate, but at least it's honest. "I don't really trust my own perspective. So while I know, deeply, because you're my friends, that you've never lied to me about enjoying yourself. I just can't..." Searching for the words has you huffing and shaking your head all over again. "I can't believe it or understand it."

“Because of what that bitch said about you?” Vanessa looks mad enough to spit nails. The fight that had been instigated to defend your honor hadn’t made you feel better and the words that you had learned were said about you had cut deep.

"This is...let's call it a lifelong problem." Sitting back against the pillows on the bed, you just drop your face into your hands and sigh. "I'm sorry to have dumped all of this on the three of you. Really."

“After what you have done for us?” Helena rolls her eyes and grabs a pack of cigarettes to offer you one. “You’re crazy.”

"Probably." You admit, letting out a half-laugh and accepting a cigarette.

“He was wrong.” Freckles tells you. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She promises. “You are soft and gorgeous. Warm and sensuous.”

"It's hard to see any kind of truth through my own doubt." Inhaling fire and exhaling smoke is such a seemingly small ritual, but it centers you in a way that you need right now. Like maybe if you had had just sat down and had a cigarette or two or three, you might not have had to bare your soul to these three kind women. To your friends – you have to remember that point. These are your friends. "I don't know if there is any truth. Looks and attraction and all of that...it's all subjective anyway."

“It is subjective.” That all the women can agree on. “My first love, he was ugly by any standards.” Freckles snorts. “But I fucked his brains out every chance I got.”

“You loved him,” you point out, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “That makes all the difference.”

“And you don’t love Javier.” She murmurs, bewildered by the idea that you might not even be attracted to your soulmate. She reaches over and takes your hand. “Not all soulmates are sexual.” She reminds you. “Javi would never force you.”

“I barely know Javier.” It feels like an entirely lame defense, but it’s true. And besides which you’re not even sure why you feel the need to defend yourself at all. But you do.

“I thought you were staying at his apartment?” Vanessa looks surprised by the fact you haven’t gotten close to him.

“I am.” It’s been nearly impossible to find a place that will let you keep Chi-Chi that you can afford and is reasonably safe, and you have just ended up there indefinitely. “But it isn’t as though we sit around the kitchen cooking meals together and having some sort of domestic fantasy.”

“So you avoid each other?” Helena frowns, not liking that at all. Javier needs a connection with someone, he is dangerously close to burnout and making mistakes and the physicality has been removed, so the emotional was definitely needed. Unless he had found comfort somewhere else.

“Not actively. I mean I sit in the living room reading at night and sometimes he’s home. We both just work constantly.” Shrugging just feels even more pathetic now but you’re not sure what else to do. “We just…don’t talk a lot when the two of us are there.”

"You are both so alike it's almost scary." Vanessa sighs softly and shakes her head.

“Stubborn and frustrating?” You guess, huffing out a half-laugh.

"YES!" All three women laugh when they answer at the same time.

The suddenness of it startles a chuckle out of you, until all four of you are laughing in a heap on the bed together. “This is what I needed,” you sigh, breathing through another laugh as Freckles hugs you to her side. “To see my friends.”

“Why don’t you fuck Javi?” She suggests playfully. “He will have you feeling good.”

“I walked in here so insecure I couldn’t even kiss any of you.” You remind them gently. “I don’t know that I’m in a place to be fucking anyone.”

"What has made you so insecure?" Helena demands, hating that you would feel that way. "Explain it to me."

You all but huff at her, feeling your shoulders round all over again. “Is being called a whale not enough?”

She frowns, reaching out and lifting your chin. "You – the woman who fought to come to Colombia, who was angry that your bosses would not let you go undercover in a brothel – let a tiny dicked man who never made you cum think badly about yourself?" She asks furiously, although her tone is softly censuring. "When your soulmate was so enraged on your behalf that he started a fight for your honor?"

The other girls murmur their agreement, but you feel all the more sheepish at having it put like that. “You make it sound very romantic.”

“It kind of is romantic.” She grins. “Especially knowing that Javier looks very sexy when he’s angry.”

"If you like him when he's angry, you'd probably be amused as hell at how we fight." It's been a week or so since the last time you argued, but the fights are fewer and farther between now, as well as shorter. Last time it had been as stupid and domestic as you getting annoyed about the schedule you worked out for feeding the dog.

“What could you possibly fight about when you barely talk?” Vanessa asks.

"Stupid things."

"You fight because you don't talk." Helena points out. And knowing you both as well as she does, she has it right on the money.

“Why don’t you do something together?” Freckles suggests. “Watch a movie?”

It's such a small, simple thing. A movie. Not a date, not a spectacle. Just a stupid, normal little movie on tv while you sit on the couch. It's...oddly appealing, actually. But you're still unsure. "Does he ever sit still long enough for something like that?"

“I’m sure you could convince him to.” Helena smirks, although she’s convinced Javier is only still when he’s asleep, or on a stakeout.

"You're all so very certain that I could get him to do anything I wanted." It's frustrating in a completely different way. Because you simply can't see how or why they believe it.

“Javi wants a connection with someone.” Vanessa hums. “Even if he won’t admit it. Even if he fights it.”

"Something else I guess we have in common, then." They know you too well for you to pretend otherwise. They know your tendency to run. To hide. To push away emotional connections. Even Alex had been kept at arm's length, but had managed to crack away at that deep desire for affection enough to hurt you with it. The bastard.

“We told you that you are the exact same.” Freckles rolls her eyes and leans in to press her lips to yours playfully with a smack.

"Apparently so." The gesture is received with gratitude, even if your heart feels a little heavier as you start to really believe what your friends have been telling you. "I'm not sure there is anything to do about it, though."

“Why?” Helena asks, wondering what could be so monumental to keep soulmates from being together.

"We sort of talked about it. The first night I stayed with him. When my building was raided." And the number of times you have gone back over it in your head since then is positively shameful. "He pretty much said he's not interested in being together. So it's all...moot. I guess."

“This was after your argument over me?” Helena asks, tsking when you nod. “The first strike.” She whispers to the other girls and they groan and nod in agreement.

"What do you mean 'strike'?" You ask, frowning.

“He rejected you before you could reject him.” She sighs. “Stupid bastard.”

"Alright, well..." Somehow that hurts far worse than you could have predicted, and you lean back in the pillows with a frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's still a rejection."

Vanessa huffs and throws up her hands. “Both of you, stubborn!” She hisses. “You would have done the same and you know it. You are two sides to the same mirror.”

"So what am I supposed to do about it, then?" You hiss back, feeling stung and stuck and just a tad insulted to boot. "Beg him to reconsider? Seduce him? Plead with my soulmate to give me another chance? Fuck that."

“One of you will have to bend.” Helena sighs. “It will just be a matter of who.”

"Now you see why I'm so frustrated." So frustrated that you could not see the light for all the dark around you. But your friends have helped that more than you expected.

“I am surprised Javi let you live with him.” Freckles admits. “He has never lived with anyone.”

"He feels guilty." At least that's what you assumed. It probably doesn't do any good to assume, but that is what you've done. "Because it was his team that raided my building."

“And he could have found you a place to live inside of an hour.” Vanessa snorts.

"I've been looking for weeks," you remind her, sheepish and embarrassed that it has taken you so long.

“Javier has been here for years.” She reminds you. “How do you think he got such an amazing apartment?”

"I can't figure out if you're implying that he's letting me look fruitlessly or that he's actively sabotaging my attempts to find somewhere else to live." Either one is deeply confusing and has complicated connotations, and you're not entirely sure what to do about it.

“That’s something you will have to ask him about.” All three women shrug and give you unsure looks.

“Full, meaningful conversation, huh?” You sigh, knowing they’re right. “That’s probably the respectful thing to do.”

“You do what you need to do.” Freckles tells you. “Only you and Javier can determine what happens. Not anyone else.”

“I’d much rather have it just all work itself out for us,” you admit, though the complaint is half-hearted. Having something handed to you means it’s never quite as satisfactory or as lasting.

Helena snorts and leans against you playfully. “You can do that.” She admits. “It will be an interesting journey.”

******

You’re still trying to figure out what the hell kind of journey could possibly be ahead of you when Javier comes home that night. It’s earlier than usual but still not what any normal person would call early. Thankfully you’re both night owls, so you’re in the process of making some dinner when the door opens. Having managed to track down an Italian market in an immigrant community in Bogotá during your first weeks there, you continue to make the pilgrimage whenever you need to stock up on ingredients.

Tonight you wanted comfort food — chunks of beef slowly stewed with onions, garlic, mushrooms, and carrots in tomatoes and red wine. The whole thing will be ladled over creamy, cheesy polenta and you can’t wait. These recipes your father taught you still mean everything to you as a grown woman.

He smells the food from the hallway. Different than the normal scents of cooking from other apartments and yet it is just as mouthwatering. He comes into the door and groans quietly. “I’m back.” He calls out politely.

“You’re home early.” It’s just an observation, but it feels so incredibly domestic in your current setting. “I got a little nostalgic and made a ton of food. Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.” Javi admits. “We had this little place in Laredo that did the little tea candles on the table. Best damn lasagna I’ve ever had.”

“Lasagna is one of my ultimate comfort meals.” And it sticks somewhere in your head that you’ll have to make it for him sometime. Cooking is soothing for you, after all. And an excellent way to say thank you for letting me live in your apartment and refusing to take my rent money every time I offer. “This is my dad’s version of Italian beef stew with polenta.”

He makes an impressed face and nods. “Sounds good. Do I have time for a shower?” He asks, feeling sticky and wanting to wash away the filth of the day.

"Yeah, absolutely." It's suddenly become a whole to-do, this comfort dinner of yours, but you nod. Somehow it's so much easier to see how handsome he is tonight. Like talking with the girls today had softened some of the sharp edges you had imagined before. "We could...turn on a movie while we eat? If you want to?"

He looks over at you in surprise, but your back is to him, stirring the pot at the stove furiously. Either the stew is temperamental or you are avoiding looking at him. “That sounds good.” He admits. “Cabinet under the tv has some tapes.” He tells you. “A few movies my pop sent me.”

"Okay." Stirring the polenta is just a way to distract yourself so he doesn't catch you staring at him, but that's alright. It needs to be stirred anyway. "I'll pick something out and set it up."

“Okay, uh, I’ll just jump in the shower then.” He mumbles, feeling slightly out of sorts now that you’ve agreed to this. It feels intimate, domestic, like an evening at home between soulmates would be.

"Okay." Repeating the word feels awkward, but you try to dismiss the feeling as nerves or tension. Everything is totally fine. It's just a meal. You've eaten together plenty of times before.

Heading back to his room, his movements are completely in autopilot. Unclipping his badge and gun from his hip, setting them down in his dresser and emptying his pockets. Memories of his parents sitting on the old flowered sofa in their living room watching a movie or tv show when he was younger springs to mind. Peeking around the corner from the kitchen and listening to his mother giggle quietly and seeing them kiss before he scurried back to his room.

By the time he comes back out again, you have dinner set up in bowls, two glasses of wine poured from what was left in the bottle, and his well-loved copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark in the VCR. "Bad day?" You ask, trying to be as casual and normal as possible when you catch the moody expression on his face. You probably haven't hit it at all, but you're trying.

“Every day I don’t catch that bastard is a bad day.” Javi snorts and shakes his head. “It’s frustrating. Feeling like we are just spinning our wheels again.”

"I refuse to believe you got nothing done today." He's too clever and too dedicated for that, but you won't belabor the point. "Anyway, it's late and there's not much you can do for the rest of tonight. But dinner is hot and there's booze."

That sounds fucking amazing and Javi groans in appreciation. “You didn’t have to do all this.” He reminds you, gesturing to the meal set out on the coffee table.

"I thought it would be nice." Technically speaking, you didn't make this meal for him. It is a comfort for you with the added side benefit of there being plenty to share with him. But there is something in his voice that stops you from saying so.

Javi sits down and then second guesses himself. “Do you want to sit here?” He asks, getting back up.

"Sit wherever you want." He's nervous and you're trying not to let it put you on edge too. This was just a spur of the moment idea that seemed like a nice way to spend the night. "It is your couch."

He snorts and shrugs. “I don’t care where I sit, but you might have claimed a certain corner as your own.” He jokes.

"Normally that's just whatever corner Chi-Chi has left for me when she sprawls out over the entire couch." You joke. He had let her up on his furniture on day two of having the two of you in his place and she never looked back.

“I feel like she would take up all the space if you gave her half a chance. Even a king-sized bed.” He rolls his eyes and looks over at the dog that is currently sprawled over the floor.

"Oh, believe me." With your bowls and wine sitting on the coffee table, you come closer and sit down in the corner of the couch that he isn't occupying. "Half the time when I crawl into bed at night, she's sprawled out over the entire mattress. So I have no trouble imagining she would take up a king if she can dominate my full size."

Javi frowns. “Then we should get you a bigger bed.” He hadn’t really thought much about the size of the bed in the guest room. It was just there for someone to sleep if needed and until Helena and you, it had never been used.

"You don't..." You had been reaching for your wine glass when he said it and you almost knock it over by accident. "You don't have to do that. I mean...it's your apartment. I'm just staying here through the seemingly interminable search for an apartment. I really can't figure out why it's so damn hard to find a place this time around."

Javi hums and doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he reaches for his own wine glass. “You’ll find one eventually.” He finally says.

"Eventually." The girls' words float through your mind again, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye as you pick up your glass more securely. "You know...you've been here longer than me. I'm surprised you don't know anyone looking for a tenant."

His eyes slide he to you and then back to the tv where the beginning of the movie is finally starting after the commercials. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for something that would be good for you.” He tells you vaguely.

"Yeah?" Deciding to play the cards you have, you take a sip of your wine and then set the glass down to pick up your bowl. Dinner smells amazing and it's finally going to be cool enough to eat without burning yourself. "The girls seem to think you wouldn't have had any trouble. And that you might not mind having me around."

Javi nearly drops his spoon, hissing a curse and bobbles it for a second before catching it. “Yeah?” He turns to purse his lips at you grumpily. “The girls don’t know everything, do they?”

"Hey," you shrug, playing it off like you aren't fishing for information but giving something up instead. "I thought it was kind of nice that they thought that. Like we might actually be getting used to each other."

He relaxed slightly and turns back to towards the tv and his stew. “You don’t annoy me as much as you first did.” He snorts. “And you cook.”

"So it's purely functional." It's just light teasing, because you're not really questioning him or calling him out. It's just...nice to hear the good humor in his voice. "Maybe...you would let me pay rent in groceries and cooking? Instead of cash?"

“You don’t have to pay rent.” He huffs out, rolling his eyes as you bring up the idea yet again. “I would have to rent this place even if you didn’t sleep in that room.” He points out again. “And the electricity and water are included. It costs me nothing.”

Your hand, spoon and all, stop halfway to your mouth. "You...don't pay rent? Like at all?"

That wasn’t what he said, but he shrugs. “Technically? No.” He admits. “DEA pays for it. And it’s under the set amount they give us. So I make money every month.”

"Well shit..." The fact that you misunderstood him at first doesn't change the meaning of the thing. His housing stipend more than covers the cost of the space you have both been living in. You almost sputter around the fact, but end up biting your lip and shrugging exaggeratedly. "Fine. I'll just cook because I like to and because we both need to eat." Looking over at him though, your head tilts unconsciously. "But...maybe it would be okay if I stop looking for a different place?"

Even though he’s honestly relieved that you are voicing that, Javi jolts one shoulder up in the air casually, as if it doesn’t matter to him. “Up to you.” He grunts as he spoons up a first bite of the stew and polenta. “If you’re comfortable here.”

“Chi-Chi is.” You nod toward the enormous sprawl of an animal nearby. She’s found a corner of rug and isn’t giving it up for anything. “I guess that settles it.” As if the dog’s comfort and happiness were the only factor, you simply start eating, turning your attention to the screen with a smile curling your lips.

It’s probably the first thing that you’ve not argued with him about and he grunts, wondering if it’s because you feel safer here, or if the fact that he had spread word that the American woman looking for an apartment was important to the DEA had scared people off. He doesn’t regret it at all. Eventually someone would know about your connection to him, and he didn’t want that used and you to be harmed.

It’s several minutes later when you laugh to yourself during the movie that you realize how simultaneously comfortable and tense you are here these days. And that the tension isn’t the walking on eggshells kind of tension you’ve had with other people in the past. But something almost eager. Like it’s on the verge of actually being pleasurable. But that might just be the soulmate bond talking. Either way, you go on eating and smiling to yourself, wondering if he feels it too or if you’re just too convinced by what the girls had to say today.

Hearing you snort in amusement; Javi looks over at you to find you grinning. “Have a think for this guy?” He asks with a smirk, nodding towards the tv. Most of the office girls in the typing pool swoon over Harrison Ford.

“Who doesn’t?” You counter, unashamed to admit to it. “Just like every other woman my age, right? Every guy I know is in love with Michelle Pfeiffer. It’s the same deal.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “She’s alright.” He answers. “I don’t really fantasize about women who wouldn’t even know my name.” He admits. “I like the ones I’ve got a chance with.”

“Fantasizing is an integral part of my day to day,” you tell him, glancing away from the screen to see if he’s looking at you. You can’t tell if you’re hoping for it or not, but you’re curious.

He watches you turn your head and look into his eyes. His curiosity getting the best of him. “And what do you fantasize about?” His voice is suddenly raspier, dropping into a lower, more intimate pitch.

“I—” You hadn’t meant it like that. In fact you’d barely thought about what you were saying when you said it. But now that he’s asked? The coil in your guts tightens and you swallow thickly. “Lots of things.” The truth sparks from you like wildfire. “W—waking up wrapped in someone…those little touches that are electric with someone new…the whole, uh…the whole…work surprise thing…”

“Work surprise?” He frowns slightly. “Like fucking in the broom closet?” He asks, trying to understand you a bit better even if this is more than he ever thought he would know. You aren’t interested in him, but he’s curious.

“Not what I was thinking.” You laugh, though, trying not to pay attention to the way your skin tingles in response to the idea of him dragging you into a closet for anything remotely sexual. “I was thinking more like…the romance of a surprise. My mom used to make excuses to go surprise my dad at work every single week. Just because she knew how hard he worked, and she wanted there to always be something to look forward to on the hardest days.”

“Your mom would go to your dad’s work to fuck him?” He remembers that your dad was a chef and he chuckles. “I heard some kinky shit happens in a kitchen.”

“I mean…” The realization is striking, that that probably is exactly what was happening, and you sputter for a few seconds out of sheer surprise. “She always told us she was just going to spend his breaks with him, but…probably.”

He laughs quietly, watching the realization rush over your face. “It’s always weird to think about your parents fucking.” He reaches over and pats your thigh. “It’s okay.”

“She just always made it sound very romantic,” you admit, dissolving into laughter.

“Fucking can be romantic.” He chuckles. “And romance can be a passionate quickie.” He snorts, “My parents probably used the hay loft more than I did.”

“See, stripping down in a hayloft to roll around on a blanket does sound romantic.” Or maybe you just have a little bit of a cowboy kink. Who knows? “A restaurant stock room? Not so much.”

He smirks as he shrugs. “Depends on what gets you going.” He argues playfully. “Maybe mayonnaise did it for them.”

“Gross.” But you’re still laughing, the movie forgotten in the background and your dinner sitting in your lap. “I can readily say mayonnaise does not get me going.”

He chuckles as he spoons up another bite of the meal. He almost tells you that he will note that, but you might not want him to do that. “Oh I love this part.” He snorts as he catches sight of the movie again.

Indy’s exploits suddenly seem less interesting to you, but you watch the movie and continue to eat with an undeniable warmth building in your chest.

The problem is that Javi wants to keep talking to you, but he also doesn’t want you to think that all he wants to talk to you about is sex. It’s frankly surprising to a man who enjoys sex and women as much as he does, but sex with you seems to be about as obtainable as climbing Mt. Everest.

“I always wanted to be Marion Ravenwood when I was a teenager…” It comes out as just a little murmur, but it’s true. Marion had been one of your favorite role models. “Her or Lois Lane.”

“She was always way too good for Indy.” Javi points at the screen with his spoon as he reaches for his wine with the other hand. “But I’m sure Lois speaks to you more because of that journalism connection.”

“She’s the one I went with in the end, I guess.” The comment that Marion is too good for Indy makes you glance over at him again and consider. He has that whole dashing-and-daring thing that Indy does —would he think a Marion was too good for him too?

“You’ve got a little bit of Marion in there too.” Javi tells you as he sits back with his wine and takes another sip. It’s pretty damn good with the meal. “Digging for a story down here is kind of like digging for the fucking Arc.” He huffs, halfway grinning.

“I’ve got Marion from plenty of things.” You shrug your shoulders. “Stubborn, persistent, cocky at the wrong times and wildly insecure at others. Plus the drinking.”

“Insecure?” He frowns. “Why? You’re a ball buster. You shouldn’t have an insecure bone in your body.”

“Seriously?” You almost slip and call him Javi, even though you’ve never called him anything but Javier in the whole time you’ve known him. The girls all call him Javi and it feels so intimate. “It’s a total front.”

"It's a good one." He admits. "When you want to exude confidence, you do." He hums to himself as he picks up his bowl again. "You'd make a hell of an actress if it's a front."

“I grew up with older brothers,” you remind him. “You learn to at least pretend to have a spine, or you end up trampled. In my case, I was then stupid enough to go into journalism. So it’s just more men everywhere, and these ones all want me to fail miserably.” Shrugging again, you put down your empty bowl and reach for your wine glass. “Maybe some of it stuck, I don’t know.”

"I don't fucking understand that." Javi shakes his head. "Yeah, there are certain jobs I don't like seeing a woman in. Ones where they are in danger, but that's my own bullshit and I would never want someone to fail."

“Then you were raised with a hell of a lot more respect than any of my colleagues.” There’s nothing really to do about it but keep your head down and keep fighting, so you just wave one hand as if it doesn’t matter. “Which is a comfort, by the way.”

"You don't watch a woman run a ranch, which is fucking hard work, while her husband is in the hospital and not realize that there isn't a whole hell of a lot women can't do." Javi might be old fashioned in some sense, but he had also been raised by a tough woman.

“Cheers to your mother, then.” You raise your glass to that without hesitation. “She sounds like she was a bad ass.”

"She was." He chuckles and lifts his drink in a toast to her. "Just like I'm sure your father was a hell of a man."

“Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re watching us and laughing together.” Tapping your glass against his, the clink rings out, and you share that drink to your parents with pride.

He shakes his head, knowing that his mama is laughing for certain. “She always warned me I would find someone who wouldn’t put up with me just because I was charming.”

“She wanted somebody who saw you for you.” That’s an admirable thing for a parent. For anyone to want for their loved one. “My Dad always said I’d find someone who wouldn’t put up with me talking shit about myself.” He actually said that your soulmate would be that person, but you won’t put that on Javier.

“You shouldn’t talk shit about yourself.” Javi agrees with that. “You have the power in any situation romantically.”

"Absolutely not." The very idea of it earns him a snort from you, and you practically drain your glass to keep from laughing out loud. "That is so far from the truth."

“Why do you think that’s not true?” He asks, curious to hear this answer.

"Because," you reason, finding that last sip of wine and putting your glass back down on the coffee table. "If I had any kind of upper hand, I wouldn't have spent most of my romantic life, I wouldn't have had to settle for weasels that I basically had to beg for attention."

“You have a pussy.” Javi reminds you. “And a nice set of tits and ass.” He rolls his eyes. “If you put your mind to it, you could have all those weasels begging you for attention.”

"That's...not really how it works for girls like me." At least, not in your experience. Or the experience of most other women your size that you've known throughout your life. It makes you lips turn down in a frown and you shift slightly in your place on the couch.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Javi frowns when he sees you pull in on yourself and turns back to his bowl. “I’m sorry.”

"No." Breathing out, you shake your head again and wipe your hands on your jeans. "No, my shitty self-esteem is not your responsibility. Sorry. Please don't let it ruin tonight."

“It’s not ruining the night.” Javi promises you. “I just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

"You aren't." You assure him quickly. "I just...I guess I wish it was true. That it was just that easy."

“Just don’t let anyone give you shit.” He tells you. “You are a good girl.”

"Careful." Before you can stop yourself, the joking ball buster comes out of you all over again. "I might like being praised a little more than other girls."

He stares at you a moment before he snorts and shakes his head. “That’s the kind of attitude you should have.”

"Shameless vampy flirt?" You ask, with one eyebrow raised.

“Vampy?” He lifts a brow of his own in challenge.

Competitive. Your teachers and your brothers and your parents and everyone else in your childhood had always called you competitive. Not in the athletic sort of way. But in the way where you could never back down from a challenge. Almost instantly you're tossing the collar of your sweatshirt off your shoulder and batting your eyelashes, shaping your lips into a pout. "Is that what does it for you? Vampy?"

His cock twitches violently and if you weren’t who you are, he would be on you in a second. Taking you up on the invitation in that look. But you aren’t looking for him to jump you. “Maybe.” He manages, trying to not let it seem like it’s taking everything he had in him to act normal.

Something changes. Something in his eyes flashes. He tenses. Something in the moment reacts so assuredly that your heart speeds up and you unconsciously lick your lips, tongue darting out to wet them like some sort of silent and unintentional test to see if he's watching you as carefully and with as devoted focus as you're watching him. If you – when did you get to this place and why didn't you notice before? – actually want to kiss him as badly as you think you do in this moment.

Javi practically dumps the bowl onto the coffee table as he stands up. You licking your lips bothering him so much he has to move. “Gotta pee.” He explains. “Keep watching the movie.”

"I—uh—" He seems to panic and it deflates you instantly, to the point where all you can do is sputter and shrink back in your seat, shoving your stupid sweater back up on your stupid shoulder. "Right. Okay."

Javi does have to pee, but it takes a moment to get the half chub he has going on to go down. “She’s fucking teasing you.” He reminds himself. “Don’t fucking touch her. Just don’t.”

He was just fucking tease you. You reprimand yourself over and over, trying to get yourself under control before he comes back. Before you give yourself away. Before you have to admit to anyone but yourself that you actually had been hoping that he would take you up on the offer. Calm the fuck down!

After a few minutes, Javi slowly walks back down the hall. “Want a beer?” He asks, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. “Water?”

"Water is fine." More alcohol is probably a bad idea. You don't want to get tipsy and do something that will make things awkward again. "Thank you."

“Welcome.” He gets two glasses of water, figuring he better lay off the booze himself. He’s changed the mood and he doesn’t know how to go back to that somewhat easy vibe but he knows more alcohol won’t help.

With a little less than half the movie left, he brings back two glasses of water and you thank him for your again as he settles back down on the couch. Chi-Chi had barely stirred while he was gone but now she shifts, getting up from her corner of rug to move over four feet and flop down in front of the sofa as if she means to tell you that neither of you is allowed to get up again.

Javi snorts to himself and tries to watch the movie again, spreading his arm across the back of the couch towards you. Legs splayed a little to be comfortable and he takes a sip of his water, “Want a cigarette?”

"Sure. Thanks." You've gotten into the habit of sharing packs while you're in the apartment together so this, at least, is relatively normal. Or at least as normal as the two of you are bound to get.

Sharing a cigarette is normal. He reaches for the pack and puts one in his mouth and flicks the lighter. Taking a drag off the smoke before handing it to you.

It's such a little motion, and so practical, but after that moment of flirtation where you could have sworn you saw attraction in his eyes, it feels so intimate to smoke from a cigarette that was just held by his lips. Like if you try hard enough you could taste him instead.

Shit. You really have to stop thinking like this...

Javi leans back and sighs softly. “Needed that.” He admits. “Need to fucking quit, but I’m already cutting back on other things.”

“I keep thinking I should quit,” you admit, but take another drag when he passes it back to you. “But I never do.”

“Stress.” Javi snorts. “Addiction. Habit. Who knows?” He looks at it seriously and then takes another drag. “Smoking a cigarette is more satisfying than chewing some fucking gum.”

“I honestly don’t even like gum that much.” It’s stupid, that little insignificant piece of trivia about yourself, but you feel like you’ve made some tiny bit of headway tonight. At the very least, if you’re going to be roommates for a while, sharing things seems easier than expecting him to read your mind.

“It’s okay.” He doesn’t mind it, but the burn of the nicotine in his chest is what he really wants. “But it doesn’t beat this.” He hands the cigarette back to you, noticing the filter is stained with the last bits of wine from one of your lips, resembling lipstick.

You both silently realize it about the same time, and the smile tugging at your lips grows ever so slightly in silent response. Acts of connection, no matter how small, are making you happy tonight.

“Got another carton in the car.” Javi tells you. “I’ll bring them in before I leave in the morning.”

“Thank you. It’s so much easier than high-tailing it across the city to that American market near my old place.” You’re learning his neighborhood— your neighborhood— little by little. It will be good to put it more of an effort now. Since you’re officially staying put.

“Yeah.” Javi frowns slightly. “Be careful if you go back over on that side of town.” He tells you. “Escobar wasn’t happy about his sicarios.”

“Shit…” You wipe one hand down your face and sigh. “Inez found a new place in that same neighborhood. I’ll have to tell her to watch out.”

“Yeah.” He knows you still talk to the bartender from the club you lived under. She was also your neighbor. “Let her know.”

“Thanks, Javi.” It slips this time, just a nickname. Just a small act of intimacy. But it slips without you even realizing it.

He hears the softness of his nickname on your tongue. Making him want to reach out. To pull you closer to him, but he doesn’t. You two are in this awkward, yet comforting place and he doesn’t want to rock the boat. “You’re welcome.”

______

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BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06 @southernbe

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)