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aperrywilliams · 3 days ago

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1000 Times (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader) - Part II

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Author Masterlist

Part I (May 7th)

Part II (May 14th)

Part III (May 21st)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your mom is getting married, and you have to come back to your hometown for the wedding. There is a little problem, though: you told her months ago you have a boyfriend, and now she wants to meet him at the wedding. Your best friend, Spencer - who happens to be the guy you are in love with, too - offers to help you with that. If you say yes, will things work out like they are supposed to?

Word Count - Part II: 6.5k

Warnings: Fluff/Angst/Smut/Angst/Fluff (I think that order is correct). Minors DNI. The smut is not detailed and mostly implied. Reader and Spencer are Idiots in love. The Reader's dad died. The Reader has poor and unhealthy family relationships, especially with her mom. Cheating is mentioned (in a past Reader's relationship). There are discussions about child trauma. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Part II is here, when everything twists a ‘little bit.’ What do you think will happen next?

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'Cause I would die to make you mine

Bleed me dry each and every time

I don't mind, no, I don't mind it

I would come back a thousand times.'

The alarm blasts at 8 am sharp, and for a day off, it is like a crime to you. But your mom gave you a list of things to get done and help with before the afternoon. Rubbing off the sleep from your eyes, you look to your side and see only the empty spot where Spencer was when you fell asleep last night. Where is he?

The sound of water running from the bathroom gives you the answer.

Padding to the window, you get to open the curtains. It's a beautiful day outside. The gardens look amazing with the morning sun. Maybe it's one of the only things you miss from this house. Your apartment in DC clearly doesn't have this view, but you wouldn't trade your place for anything, not even these wonderful gardens.

"The weather report says today's temperature will remain warm with a clear sky."

Spencer’s voice makes you turn around.

"Yeah. With luck, tomorrow will be -"

Your words die in your mouth when you're faced with a semi-naked Spencer, wrapped with only a towel around his waist, with wet hair and droplets running down his torso. Your brain suddenly becomes mush. Jesus, this man wants to kill you for sure. How can he look so hot so early in the morning?

Spencer confuses your amazement with discomfort.

"Un. I'm sorry, I forgot my clothes in that chair," he apologizes, quickly grabbing the pile and rapidly strolling back to the bathroom.

"It's okay. Do n't-don't worry," you manage to say, but the bathroom door is already closed.

You could get used to a view like this every morning.

After breakfast, while helping Andrew organize some things, Spencer is held by Dylan, who, after learning about your boyfriend's three doctorates, found no better pastime than interrogating him on a wide variety of topics. With patience and his fair share of enthusiasm, Spencer is happy to explain things Dilan probably only understands half of.

During one of your breaks, you take Spencer to the family office, where your father's book collection is located. It is one of his few things that are still kept in the house. As you go through each book, you tell Spencer things you remember about your father from your childhood. He was clearly an important figure to you; you've never denied it. Unlike Spencer with his father, you were close to yours until a fatal accident ended his life. That's something you still struggle to talk about despite all the years that have passed.

Spencer watches you with fascination as you talk about your happiest memories from that time. It's a side of you no one has ever seen. Spencer feels lucky to be the one who witnesses your most intimate self outside the confines of work and life at the BAU.

However, the bubble you find yourselves in is shattered when your mom shows up, escorted by your other brother, Ralph, who has just arrived.

"Isn't that my little sister and her boyfriend?" Ralph asks with a smile on his face. Of your two brothers, Ralph is the only one you get along with a bit. However, if he had to choose between you and your mom, like Lincoln, Ralph would choose your mom.

After a greeting hug and the respective introductions, Ralph proceeds to ask you how you've been and says he's happy you decided to come. The whole time, Spencer's arm is protectively around your waist. You tenderly stroke his hand, thanking him for taking his role as boyfriend seriously in front of your family.

As expected, the conversation quickly moves toward the big event.

"Well, I know it's just the rehearsal, but I took the liberty of inviting Evan for today. I know you only had him contemplated for the wedding, but he has been a family friend for so long," Ralph tells your mother.

Hearing Evan's name, your expression hardens, and your body stiffens, something Spencer notices immediately.

"What a good idea, Ralph. I didn't think about it, but I totally agree," your mom says.

"Who's Evan?" Spencer asks you. Before you can say anything, Ralph pipes up.

"A family friend, who also happens to be (Y/N)'s ex-boyfriend."

"That poor boy, he was so in love with you, and you behaved like you didn't care," your mom chastised, recalling your relationship with Evan.

Uncomfortable with the topic, you let go of Spencer's grip and shift your weight from one foot to another.

"He was crazy for you," Ralph adds.

"Oh, please. We're talking about the time I was what? Sixteen? We weren't in love," you scoff. But the defensiveness in your voice tells Spencer there is more to the story.

"Young or not, he would have done everything for you. A real husband material."

Your mom's observation spurs a groan from you.

"Really, Mom? It was all that mattered to you? If it were up to you, I would have ended up married to one of Dad's wealthy friends, thirty years older than me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I would never have done that to you."

"No? That's why you actually married one?" you spat—your mom's face morphs to offended in one second.

“(Y/N)! Don't be disrespectful," Ralph snarls. And you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself. Spencer's confused look makes you feel guilty. It's not fair to him to witness a scene of you arguing with your family.

"Fine," you relent. "I'll shut up." Now, looking at Spencer and softening your voice, you speak again. "Baby, can you help me with the greeting cards for the tables?"

He nods and offers you his hand to take. "Sure." You squeeze it appreciatively and walk with him out of the room.

Once outside, out of the people's sight, you let out a deep breath.

"Spencer, I'm sorry-"

Before you can fall into a spiral of apologies, he cuts you off.

"Don't. You don't have to say sorry to me. I know there is more behind what happened there, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But no matter what it is, I'm on your side, okay? Always."

"Thanks. You should know anyway."

While you're organizing the cards with the guest's names, you tell Spencer about your history with Evan. Two years older than you, Evan was the younger brother of Ralph's best friend. Evan's family was always close to yours, and for a long time, you considered him your friend.

But after your dad passed away, things went a bit south with him. You were vulnerable and leaned on Evan when you thought no one else understood. One thing led to another, and you ended up in a relationship. Everything was pretty normal until you started seeing the signs. Evan grew up, and so did you. His tastes began to resemble his brothers' more than his own. The things you had in common diminished between the two of you, and that youthful love faded. The last straw was when you discovered he was cheating on you with one of your cousins.

You made your decision to break things up. The problem? Evan wasn't ready to let you go. Between the pressure from his family and his ego, he couldn't tolerate not having you. He was never physically aggressive, but he was hurtful enough to kill any affection you might have had for him—something he did a good job of masking and twisting to his advantage. In the end, everyone thought you were the one who hurt his feelings first when it was the opposite.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through that," Spencer tells you once you end the story. You shrug.

"I haven't seen Evan since I left home all those years ago. That's why it feels kind of weird now. But I need to get over it, leave that part of my life behind."

"It's a good way to see it, but if he tries to do something to hurt you again, I'll take care of it," Spencer says, eyebrows furrowing in full protective mode. It's sweet and kind of hot, too.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, but Evan can be an intimidating guy, if you know what I mean. I don't think it's a good idea to go into a fight with him," you warn him. Spencer's eyes widen.

"Oh no. No. I didn't say that because I want to fight Evan, but I would if it's necessary - I said that to ask Garcia to hack him. The damage could be substantially more significant than if I tried to punch his face. I'm sure of it."

You can't help but burst into a fit of giggles.

"Absolutely no one should doubt you're a genius!" you say between giggles. Spencer grins widely. He loves making you laugh. He loves you.

For the rest of the afternoon, Spencer helps you to relax, cracking jokes from time to time and talking about whatever he thinks can work for you to stop overthinking. It actually works, and he feels proud of himself for staying grounded in an environment so out of his comfort zone. For you, he would do that ten thousand times and much more.

As you get ready in the bathroom, Spencer grabs a book from one of your shelves: Wuthering Heights. When he opens it, the first thing he sees is a handwritten note on the first page.

'It's not the way we see what makes us aware of the world; it's the way we feel it. My little girl, always trust in your instincts. They will always lead you to what you're looking for: the real kindness, the real love. Dad.'

Spencer thinks about how your dad's words got ingrained in you. For all the years he has known you, those words are the perfect fit for how you are. You see the world, but on top of that, you feel it. You value kindness and honesty. You trust in your guts. It's who you are, and it's one of the many reasons Spencer loves you.

Engulfed in how Heathcliff fights with his emotions as Catherine marries Linton, Spencer doesn't hear the bathroom door opening.

"Spoiler alert: everyone goes crazy and becomes ghosts at the end."

Spencer chuckles at your comment, but when his attention shifts from the book to you, his breath hitches in his throat, and his jaw almost hits the floor.

There you are. Ready for the rehearsal dinner in one of the dresses you bought for the occasion. You wouldn't say it's too fancy, but it suits you pretty well. Spencer would say 'pretty good' is an understatement, though. For him, you look stunning, marvelous, sexy, captivating, and all those words he can think of right now seem nothing compared to reality.

You confuse Spencer's lack of words with something bad. Maybe you went overboard.

"Too much?"

"What? No! It's - uh. You look amazing."

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face at the compliment.

"Well, you look very handsome, I must say," you add. And it's true. With a nice dark blue suit, Spencer looks so effortlessly attractive that it's almost a crime for you. How you will get your eyes off him tonight, you don't know. The funny thing is that Spencer is confronting the same dilemma as you.

"Are we ready then?" Spencer asks as he stands from the sofa and gentlemanly offers his arm for you to take. Unfortunately, the gesture reminds you this isn't an actual date. It's fake. Spencer is not your boyfriend.

"Yeah. Ready for the show," you reply, masking your disappointment with a chuckle. Little did you know, Spencer feels equally disappointed with the reality of the situation as well.

The patio is full of tables perfectly set for the guests' use. The decoration screams luxury and costly taste. You wouldn't expect less from an event where your mom is the main character.

At the entrance, Andrew is directing the staff as the guests start to arrive. You can spot some uncles and aunts from your mom's side. Your brother Ralph and his wife are talking to the wedding planner. Your soon-to-be stepfather is greeting the people already gathering.

“(Y/N)?” A voice calls from behind you. It only takes you seconds to recognize it: Kimberley, one of your cousins, and the worst nightmare you had when you were growing up.

"Hey, Kim. How are you?"

Before replying, the blonde gives you a tight embrace. "It has been so long!"

You don't know why she seems so glad to see you when you are not an ounce happy to see her. One of the last memories you have of her is trying to convince you she didn't sleep with Evan when she actually did.

"Are you not going to introduce me to this handsome? Are you?"

There she is. Kimberly is already seductively batting her eyelashes at Spencer. This shameless bitch.

"Baby, this is my cousin Kimberly. Kim, this is Spencer, my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Spencer greets politely, with no attempt to make physical contact.

"It's a total pleasure," Kim says, extending her hand to Spencer. He feels compelled to comply, giving it an awkward squeeze. You internally roll your eyes.

It's a bad thing Kimberly doesn't seem phased or in a rush to leave, so she starts small-talking. Despite all the history between you and Kim, you don't want to be rude just at the beginning of the evening. In your mindset of leaving all behind, you are polite enough to engage in a simple conversation. Spencer is always backing you up. Even with the explicit attempts from Kimberly to get Spencer's attention through her flirty remarks, Spencer doesn't seem interested. If anything, he circles your waist to push you closer to him, kissing your head from time to time and talking to you and about you using sweet pet names.

If someone asks you, you would say it feels so fucking good.

"Kim, over here!" An award to the person who calls her name across the room and makes her decide to leave you both. But not before a flirtatious remark to Spencer.

"See you around, handsome."

Spencer looks at you curiously. "What's her problem?" he asks, referring to your cousin.

"Her problem? Her problem is that she can't see an attractive man without flirting with him. Much less if that man is standing next to me, literally or figuratively."

"Oh. Is she the one that-?"

"Yep," you reply before Spencer can end his question.

No further explanation is necessary.

After Kim leaves, some uncles and aunts you haven't seen in years come over to say hello as well. Spencer, always the kind man he's been, acts attentively as if he genuinely enjoys having to greet so many people he doesn't know. Which you know he hates.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" You hear your name from behind.

Shit. You know that voice. You turn, and your assumption is confirmed. Evan.

"Evan? Oh, hi. I didn't recognize you."

Bullshit. Of course you did. Without any warning, Evan envelopes you in a tight hug. What's the problem with people? Why does everyone want to hug you today?

"It's so good to see you! You haven't changed at all!"

Spencer looks at the exchange and notices how tense you get. Knowing who that guy is, his brows furrowed in increase.

You barely return his embrace. When Evan finally lets you go, his eyes go to Spencer. Shaking off the discomfort, you clear your throat.

"Evan, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Baby, this is Evan," you introduce. With no other word said, Spencer stretches his hand to Evan. The man returns the gesture, and the two men trade a tight, tense handshake.

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the testosterone display.

"You won't tell him who I am?" Evan teases, and you furrow an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, (Y/N)! We spent so much good time together, didn't we?"

Your jaw tightens immediately. The audacity is incommensurable.

"Spencer already knows who you are, Evan. Actually, he knows more than enough," you say to the guy, who raises his hands in mock defense.

"Okay, okay. I should expect nothing good then." His gaze turns to Spencer now. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what she told you about me, but I'm a good guy now. We don't have to rely on the past, right (Y/N)?"

Spencer doesn't even blink; his expression is neutral, the same one he uses when he's meticulously analyzing someone. He only returns a hum of acknowledgment before taking your hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Evan. Now, if you excuse us, we still have a few people to say hello to," Spencer apologizes, looking at you. "Right, love?" His gaze is piercing and protective, and it leaves you breathless and almost speechless.

"Yeah. Right. See you around," you tell Evan with a tight-lipped smile before disappearing from his sight with Spencer's hand in hand.

Out of people's ears and eyes, Spencer looks at you.

"Are you okay?" You nod appreciatively.

"Yeah. Good. Thank you for that," you say, jutting your thumb over your shoulder.

"You sure are okay?" Spencer's worry melts your heart.

"Spencer, it's fine. I'm okay. He's just an ass," you dismiss, and Spencer huffs a laugh.

"Understatement of the century, I must say. I mean, Evan is an ass, and pretty much everyone here." You hum in agreement.

"So, go figure how badly I missed being here all these years."

Spencer scoffs. "I can tell."

You both agree it's a good time for a drink. And not soon after, the rehearsal starts.

You've always hated protocol, especially when it comes to etiquette. It's funny how you ended up working for the FBI and haven't been fired yet for breaking a rule or two. You've undoubtedly caused Hotch a headache more than once. But at this very moment, all the FBI rules seem harmless compared to having to listen to the wedding planner barking orders back and forth. Before the dinner even started, you had to move your seat three times because the guests' seat configuration had been changed repeatedly.

Add to that the lighting adjustments, the photos, and the speech rehearsals. One thing you have to thank your mom for is that she didn't force you to give a speech. It's a good thing Lincoln and Ralph offered to provide one.

After all the commotion and the rehearsal finished, your mom decides it's not worth wasting the festive atmosphere and invites everyone to stay for an impromptu party. So you and Spencer keep wandering around among the crowd, who occasionally catch you for casual conversation. Everything's going well until Dylan asks Spencer for help with something, and you stay there, scrutinizing the surroundings that make you feel like an outsider in the same house where you grew up.

"Your boyfriend seems a good guy."

You turn around and see Evan standing next to you, holding two glasses of wine. He offers one to you.

"I assume you still prefer red over white."

You take the glass from his hand. Despite who's offering it to you, a drink can do good right now.

"You came alone?" you ask. Evan chuckles.

"Yeah, I've only been divorced for three months, so I wouldn't have the audacity to invite my ex out of courtesy."

You don't say anything. What could you possibly say? Sorry? You won't tell him that, even if you actually feel sorry for him.

"What do you want, Evan? I don't think you came over just to offer me a glass of wine."

"Maybe I did. As a form of apology?" The man shrugs.

"How so?" you ask, confused.

"Maybe you think this is cynical of me, and I understand. You don't have to believe me. But I seriously owe you an apology. Ten years late, but still."

You think maybe he’s joking, but he doesn't laugh. Weird.

"What? Do you have a conscience now?" you ask sarcastically. Evan chuckles.

"More than a conscience, karma has eaten me over the years. And, well, I know you went through a lot during those years, and I didn't behave in the way you needed. Clearly, you didn't deserve the way I treated you."

And ten years had to pass for him to realize. It's not something that surprises you, though.

"You're right. I didn't." Your voice is sharp. "And if this is a part of your checklist in favor of cleaning your karma, consider it done."

You haven’t in you to behave mercifully with someone like Evan. Not back then, not now.

"That means being friends is out of the options, isn't it?"

Even if your idea is to get over this, you're worth more than a shitty friendship with an ex.

"Listen. I haven't put a foot in this town since the day I left. My life is elsewhere now. The only thing here is my mom, brothers, and a bunch of memories. There is no reason for that to change."

Evan nods in understanding, a nostalgic smile on his face.

"That guy, Spencer, is lucky, you know? He's a far better boyfriend for you than I would have been even in my better days."

You scoff. "Damn well, he is."

He would. If only things were different, you know he would.

As on cue, you feel a shielding hand on the lower part of your back. You don't have to turn to know it's Spencer. You can recognize his touch everywhere.

"I'm sorry. It took me some time to get back. Did you miss me?" Spencer asks, planting a loving kiss on your cheek, ignoring that Evan is in there. You have to do everything in your power not to get flustered.

"It's okay, love. We were just talking."

"Yeah." Evan agrees.

"Great." Spencer's eyes go to Evan. "I hope you don't mind if I steal her now. I want to show you something," he says, now looking at you.

You nod, and Spencer grabs your hand to walk in the direction of the gardens.

The tension you have been feeling is melting slowly as you both walk to the fresh air of the night. It's like you can actually breathe now.

"Thank you. Again. You have already saved me twice tonight." Your voice is more collected, relieved, and appreciative.

"Don't mention it. It was that or waiting for an extra minute and having to pull you off as you were kicking Evan on the floor."

"Tempting," you muse. Spencer chuckles.

"My literally kicking-ass girlfriend," he teases, stealing a kiss from your cheek. You feel the flush rising in your skin again. The gesture is spontaneous, but it does nothing but make you feel giddy.

If only this were real.

The fresh air is welcoming as you and Spencer walk through the gardens hand in hand, far from the bustling.

"Did you spend a lot of time over here when growing up?" Spencer asks, gazing at the expansion of trees and bushes.

A smile creeps onto your face at the memories.

"I loved to walk around here, especially in the spring. There were more trees than there are now. I used to spend hours under that one there," you point to a big willow not far from you.

"It's really big," Spencer comments, admiring the tree.

"Yeah. Can I ask where that question comes from, though?"

Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He clears his throat.

"In one of the family photos I saw earlier in the house, you were a kid, playing under that same tree. And you looked so happy. Your smile was wide and bright. That made me wonder how many of those moments you had growing up and if, in the last few years, you have felt that kind of true happiness again."

Tilting your head to him, you think about the question. Have you? On a daily basis, you don't allow yourself to think much about your childhood years. Those memories tend to be locked in your mind.

"Well, at that time, things were different around here.

And as an adult? There are moments I treasure, and they make me happy. It's not the same as back then, but I assume it doesn't have to be the same. People grow and change to a certain extent."

It's the growing-up rule, right?

"Do you think people really change?" Spencer asks. You hum.

"I think so. Or if not, then we adapt."

Spencer hums in agreement.

"You don't think so?"

Spencer bites his lower lip, contemplating his response.

"I find it hard to believe that people really change. It's true that in our line of work, we've seen people go from 0 to 100, but it is always because there are processes that develop over time. I would agree more with the idea you mentioned about adapting to the environment."

You both stop walking as you lean your back against a tree trunk. You remain silent for a few seconds, enjoying the stillness and feeling the small breeze that begins to rise while you lose yourself in your thoughts. Spencer, with his hands in his pockets, looks toward the house, where movement can be seen, but you can barely hear it from where they are.

"Spencer, can I ask you something?" You break the silence, and Spencer looks at you.

"Sure."

"Do you think I am not lovable?"

Spencer's stunned expression is difficult not to notice.

"What? Where did you get that idea?"

Shrugging, you purse your lips for a second.

"I don't know. I mean, all the time, my family has been this adamant, repeating over and over that my life is a mess. They have never believed someone could love me for who I am, not because of my last name or the family I was born into. And I think I've gotten the idea so deep in my head that I've never given any relationship a chance, nor have I dared to pursue one."

Spencer's eyebrows furrow. How can you even believe that for a second?

"There is nothing further from the truth than that." There isn't a trace of hesitation in his voice.

You avert your gaze from Spencer out of embarrassment and vulnerability. You never confided in anyone a thought like this one.

"Hey, I mean it," Spencer insists, seeing how you don't want to look at him.

"You have to say that. You're my friend," you scoff, laughing. "I shouldn't have asked you this. It's stupid anyway."

Now, with one of his hands out of his pockets, he reaches your cheek.

"Look at me, please."

You timidly do as he says.

"I've known you for four years, six months, and three days. And from the moment you walked through the glass doors of the BAU, wearing your black coat and that furry scarf with your reddened nose from the cold peeking out, I knew things were going to be different, and in the best possible way."

"Yeah. They turned different; Hotch's migraines increased since I joined," you joke.

"Don't do that," Spencer chastises, chuckling.

"Do what?"

"Deflecting through making jokes. I'm trying to be serious here, okay?" His tone isn't truly mad or annoyed. The smile on his face is his tell.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry for interrupting you, Doctor Reid." The grin on your face tells Spencer you're still messing with him.

"That is precisely what I'm talking about. The way you are. Truly, honest, transparent. You don't need to pretend to be someone you're not because you're perfect the way you are. You're generous; you'll never stop sharing something you think another person needs. You're dedicated to your work; you make things happen, and you don't just sit around waiting. You've become a fundamental part of many people's lives, like mine. I can't imagine a world where I haven't met you."

It's weird to hear so many compliments in so few sentences. And coming from Spencer, it's impossible not to get flustered.

"Spencer, that's really sweet of you,” you say, voice small, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

"I'm not done."

"No?"

"Not even close. Maybe you didn't realize, but you are like a magnet, and not only because of your personality. Did you look at yourself in the mirror today? Jesus, you look stunning. People have been gravitating around you all night, and not because they already know you and want to say hi or because they have a history with you. It's because you intrigue them, captivate them."

"Oh, come on, Spencer. Don't overstate. How could you possibly know that?"

Spencer wonders how you cannot see that. For him, it's clear as day.

"Because I do know! Every man would be lucky to have you. Just- if only they could see what I see. If only you could see what I see."

It's dangerous territory, and Spencer knows, but the idea of you feeling unworthy of love? It's worse and intolerable for him.

Something in your guts tells you not to push it, but what the hell is he talking about? You need to know.

"And what's what you see that I don't?"

There it is. The question. The open door.

It would be so easy right now to come clean and confess. But Spencer is not sure. No, he is sure about his feelings; that's not the problem. It's a fact that one more word could be the nail in the coffin. Spencer knows he is no good at talking about his emotions. People usually misunderstand him, and things get twisted.

But Spencer is at a crossroads now. He can't just stay silent or try to change the subject.

After a second of deliberation, he clears his throat and shortens the distance with you a bit so he doesn't have to talk too loudly.

"Do you trust me?" Spencer asks, and you don't have to think twice about your response. What kind of question is that?

"Of course I do."

Your words fill Spencer with a sort of courage he hasn't had before. That, and some of the wine glasses he drank earlier.

"Good. Trust me on this, please," Spencer whispers, now tilting your chin up and leaning slowly—his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips. When you realize what he is doing, the air leaves your lungs, and you can't do anything but wait with bated breath and closed eyes for what's coming.

It's soft, barely there at first. A brush of lips that mingle the air between you. As you feel him just a millimeter apart, your heart is already yearning for more. Instinctively, you grasp the lapels of his jacket. Spencer understands what you want and closes the distance between you and him again. This time, with more purpose, his lips capture yours, and you kiss him back in no time.

You don't know if it was just seconds or a whole bunch of minutes you kept kissing. Your lips moving in synchrony is like a dream come true. It's sweet and all-consuming at the same time—a weird way to say what you have been hiding in favor of a lie. People say life works in mysterious ways. They might be right this time.

But good things have to end at some point. Spencer breaks the kiss first, a bit unsure about your reaction. His eyes scan yours for some clue.

You don't know what to say. It's a lot. Did he mean it?

"Wow." It's the only thing you manage to say. Spencer is not sure how good that is.

"A good kind of wow or a bad kind of wow?"

With your cheeks flushed, there is no option for a bad wow. How can he not notice it?

"Definitely a good wow. If you wanted to prove your point, it worked," you giggle, mid-nervous and mid-giddy. You can still feel the rush of adrenaline running through your body.

"I'm glad."

But what was actually the point he wanted to prove? Do you think Spencer wanted to show you how good you can feel when you let people in? When you willingly take down your guard and just feel. Well, that worked. But what did it mean for him? Was it really a confession? You are scared to ask.

Spencer smiles, and your stomach flips. Do you want to break the magic with rationality? No. Want Spencer to expose himself with a love declaration, truly? No. The best option for both of you is to ignore the whys and let things flow.

Your arms fling around Spencer's neck, and you tiptoe to shorten the distance.

"Can I?" You ask, knowing Spencer would understand. He nods, eyes glistening with anticipation. This is the best thing that has happened to him, and he won't waste the chance.

His lips catch yours in a soaring kiss. Savouring every second of it. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer. And you don't have it in you to protest—quite the opposite.

This kiss is everything you expected and more. His lips on yours are like honey, and you can't get enough.

The warm and tingling sensation in your body caused by his touch shuts down every thought. You don't want to stop, even if your brain tells you to do it.

In an attempt to regain control, you pause for a second, looking directly into his eyes.

"You know, there is nobody actually looking at us right now, right?" You point almost breathlessly, in case his motivations were only fuelled by the task of pretending to be your boyfriend.

"Yeah. I know," he replies, equally dizzy as you but not breaking eye contact. Has Spencer always looked at you that way?

"Spencer-"

"If you're uncomfortable, I'll stop," he whispers, so close that you can still feel his breath fanning your lips.

This is wrong; you know it. All the hooters blast in your head, alerting you to call it quits. You decide to play deaf, though.

"Please, don't stop," you whine, and Spencer can't deny you anything even if he wanted to.

In no time, his lips are on yours again, kissing you with urgency. This can't be fake, can it?

You're kissing him back with the same enthusiasm he has. It doesn't matter if you're alone or with a lot of people around. Your senses are consumed by the man holding you and devouring your mouth and soul.

You don't remember who took the lead first, but in one moment, you are making out under a tree in the gardens, and the next, you are stumbling into your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

Spencer's arms envelope you in a way that makes you dizzy and needy. His lips travel down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, driving you insane. Your hands tug his jacket down his shoulders, making quick work of losing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

You are so invested in your task and feeling the warmth filling your body that you almost don't notice the zip of your dress giving in, calloused fingers dancing in your exposed skin.

"You're so gorgeous. Sexy. Marvelous," Spencer chants with his lips descending from your collarbone. A gasp escapes your mouth when your back hits the mattress; with Spencer on top of you, his hands roam your sides, gripping the supple of your hips, pushing his body to you. Through the fabric of his slacks, you can feel his hardness pressing into one of your thighs.

"Fuck-" you half curse and half moan.

"Feels good?"

"So so good. You feel so good, baby.” You breathe out.

You can't believe this is happening. It's like a dream come true. One of your best fantasies. The guy who you have been in love with for so long is about to fuck you, about to give you what you have been craving so much.

“You don't know how much time I wanted to do this,” Spencer confesses, trailing kisses in every patch of skin you reveal to him. He is drunk on you, and you surely feel drunk on him.

But in the haze of your lust-filled brain, something pops up. This isn't real. Spencer doesn't love you. He's your friend. He is only carried away by the heat of the moment. If you let this happen, it will ruin you both. You can't do this in the harbor of a lie.

"Spencer-"

Your voice comes out more like a moan. Your senses are foggy because of the way he's touching you, kissing you.

"I know. Let me take care of you, please."

And you want to. Oh god, you want to. But not like this. With the tiny will you have left, your hands cup his face, actually to stop him.

"I - Spence. No, please, stop."

Spencer halts his ministrations immediately. He can see your eyes filled with something he can't pinpoint. Something is wrong.

"What's it? Did I hurt you?"

His concern makes you feel bad. You don't want him to feel guilty for what is your fault.

"No. No, you didn't hurt me. It's just- Spencer, we can't do this."

Spencer's concerned eyes shift to confusion.

"Why? You don't want to?"

You take your chance to move from under his body to sit on the mattress. Spencer kneels, waiting for your answer.

"I do want to. Believe me, I do want to. But we shouldn't. It's going to twist everything."

"What are you talking about? Why would this twist-?"

Spencer trails off. He isn't sure why you are rejecting him now.

"This isn't real. We are confused because we're playing a role. We are friends, Spencer."

Spencer's frown morphs into a hurtful expression. Is it not real, you say? It feels real to him.

"What are you talking about? Why do you say this isn't real?" Your sudden change in behavior only fuels Spencer's perplexity.

"Because we're pretending. I don't want to fall on this because of it," you whine, looking for a way out of this moment.

"Is that what you really think? That we're pretending?" Spencer's voice is hurt, and you feel stupid for letting this happen. Stupid and exposed. Not wanting to reply to his question yet, you stand from the bed to retrieve some clothes. Spencer follows your movements, still naked on the torso and kneeling on the mattress. When you get out of his sight, behind him, he stands as well. You have already removed the dress, clad in your pajamas, and sat on the sofa in front of the bed, hugging your knees, trying to protect yourself.

"I asked you a question, (Y/N). Please, don't ignore me."

"I don't know!" you shout. "I think we are. I mean, the whole point of this was to deceive my family. And now, you say all those things about me, and we kissed, and I don't know!"

You avert his gaze, but you can feel it burning holes in your skin. When you don't say anything else, Spencer sighs in defeat.

"I can't compete with your past. If you still feel trapped there, there is nothing I can do."

His words take you by surprise. Why is he talking about your past?

"What?" You ask, puzzled by the harsh tone Spencer is using. Spencer scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"If you say this isn’t real, it's because you don’t want it to be. Maybe you feel nostalgic about this style of life, and there is something in you that wants this back."

He can't be serious, you think. Spencer can't mean that, can he? You don't want to get back to a life you escaped from years ago. It's not who you are.

"If you really think that, it means you don't know me at all." You say, hurt by the fact that Spencer thinks that way of you.

"I thought I did. But after tonight, I'm not so sure anymore."

"I can't believe it. I would have expected something like this from anyone but you, Spencer. Is it because I stopped us before having sex? Are your blue balls talking?"

You know your words sound sharp and raw, but you won't stand there without saying anything to defend yourself.

"What?! No! Do you really think this is all about? Me being sexually frustrated? That's very low, especially coming from you."

"If it's not that, then what the hell is happening? How did we get here? What are you not telling me?" Your voice is desperate at this point. Spencer groans in frustration. How could you be so clueless?

"You know- I really thought you felt it when we kissed. And now, you act like it was nothing!"

"What? What should I have felt?"

Spencer shakes his head. No, he won't expose himself to your rejection again.

"You know what? Just forget it. It's not my business, anyway. I'm just here to be your fake boyfriend. I'm sorry for crossing the line. It won't happen again." Spencer grabs his phone, charger, and his clothes from the floor, ready to leave the room.

"Spencer? Where are you going?"

"I know the room next door is empty. Andrew told me," he says, walking to the door, not sparing you a glance, as he opens it.

"What? Why? No! Don't go. Spencer, please don't do this. Can we talk about it?" You insist, trying to catch his attention. Spencer stops at the open door and turns to you.

"We already did. Goodnight (Y/N). I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you prefer to go to the wedding with another instead of me so that I won't do a ridiculous thing by showing up."

The door closes shut behind him. And you are left in the middle of your bedroom, hurt and confused.

You don't realize when the tears start to roll down until they blur your vision.

'Again, again, I let it go, let it go

Cover my mouth, don't let a single word slip

I wouldn't wanna tell you, no, tell you, no

Nothing could be worse than the risk of

Losing what I don't have now

I'm weaker by the minute, though

Is it so bad if I wanna cry out?'

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #amanda perry williams #1000 times #spencer reid smut

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witchslove · 3 hours ago

Text

Study Sessions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been best friends since your first semester of college. When you have to take a physics class, Wanda is more than happy to help you study, but your late night study sessions blur the lines between friendship and romance.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda maximoff, top!reader, fingering (w receiving), oral (w receiving), wanda’s first time with a woman, slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Save me college Wanda, college Wanda save me…

——————————

The sun beamed down on you as you walked across campus, sweat forming on the back of your neck from the heat.

You had just finished your first day of classes for the semester and you were feeling confident about all of them, except for one. Even as an English major, you were stuck taking a physics class to complete some general requirements for graduation.

You could handle the most complex forms of literature on a bad day, but when it came to math and science, you found yourself feeling a little lost.

The good news was that your roommate and best friend, Wanda Maximoff, was a physics major. Wanda was everything you wanted to be - naturally smart, driven, focused, and incredibly organized.

She was also the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on, long brown hair that was somehow even softer than it looked, stunning green eyes that sometimes made you nervous under her gaze, and the perfect body - since you shared a room, you’d seen her undress before, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look like her or fuck her brains out.

You constantly pushed down any desires you felt towards Wanda since she was your best friend, telling yourself your friendship was far too valuable to risk just because you occasionally had confusing feelings towards her.

The two of you had known each other since you both started college. You were roommates your first semester and instantly became close, despite your contrasting personalities. Where you were more relaxed and laid back when it came to your studies, Wanda was very serious. It made sense though, her major was far more demanding than yours was and she always worked hard to maintain her perfect GPA.

You’d always admired Wanda and found that you could no longer envision your life without her by your side. She was easily the best friend you’d ever had; she was supportive when you needed it and stayed on top of you when you felt like slacking. Wanda was extremely likable and you felt honored that she considered you her closest friend as well.

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you sighed as you felt the cool air inside. You headed to your room and unlocked the door, stepping through the threshold to the familiar sight of Wanda studying. You smiled to yourself; it was only the first day of classes and she was already trying to learn as much as she could.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your things down and plopping into your bed, taking a moment to relax.

“Hi,” Wanda said back, turning in her chair to face you. “How was your first day?”

“It was good,” you responded, looking over at her from your bed. “My professors seem cool, most of my classes don’t seem too hard. What about you?”

“Not too bad, although my nuclear and particle physics class might kick my ass this semester,” Wanda chuckled.

“Is that what you’re over there studying already?” You teased her, gesturing to the open books on her desk.

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty interesting. I want to get ahead this semester so I have more time to hang out with you and do fun stuff,” she explained.

“That’s good. I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re trying not to go to a party with me,” you joked, bringing a smile to her face. “Or maybe you could use some of that extra time to help me out, I’m stuck taking a physics class this semester and I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Oh, which one?” Wanda asked, her interest piqued.

“Classical mechanics I think,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at needing help with one of the most basic physics courses.

“That’s a fun one,” she commented. “I’d be glad to help detka.”

That was another thing about Wanda. She often called you pet names, in a friendly way of course, but it made your heart flutter every time she did it.

“Okay cool, thank you. Maybe we can have a study session at the library tomorrow if you’re not too busy with classes?” you asked, knowing you only had one class to worry about in the morning.

Wanda turned towards her desk to flip through a binder, checking her schedule. “I have a morning class and one in the afternoon, could we do 7pm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, biting back a smile at the thought of Wanda tutoring you.

“Perfect! I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” She turned back to face you again, her expression becoming serious as she pointed a finger at you. “Ten minutes of bed-rotting time and then I want to see you reading or writing something,” she demanded, trying to motivate you to get ahead like she was.

“Okay mom,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully.

She went back to studying, taking notes as she flipped the pages of her nuclear physics textbook. You laid in bed for a few more moments, scrolling through Instagram reels, before getting up to join her in studying.

The next day, you attended your morning class and then grabbed a latte at the coffee shop on campus, deciding to review your notes as you sipped your drink, knowing it’s what Wanda would want you to do.

The rest of the day went by slowly but you managed to get some work done. You were eager for your study session with Wanda, excited to spend some time with her after the two of you had gone home for the summer and had barely seen each other.

You arrived at the library early, finding it to be relatively empty at this time of night. A few students were at the computers, but overall the library was quite vacant. You picked a spot in the corner, away from others, where you felt you’d have the most privacy and the least distractions.

You waited for Wanda, who came in a few minutes later, looking around the shelves before she spotted you.

“Hey,” she greeted as she sat down beside you, her thigh touching yours. She reached into her bag to pull out different colored pens, highlighters, sticky notes, and some of her old physics notes from when she took classical mechanics.

“Hi,” you breathed out, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling of her so close. “Someone came prepared,” you jested, making her laugh softly as she finished setting up.

“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? I have to make sure you have everything you need,” she quipped with a smile and the most adorable nose scrunch.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; you didn’t remember it being this hard to be around Wanda, but everything she was doing was driving you crazy in the best way. You watched her for a moment as she placed everything on the table in an organized fashion, biting her lip with a focused expression on her face. You wanted nothing more than to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and capture it with your own.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” She broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You blushed at what you were just thinking about, nodding in response.

“Sounds good,” you managed, opening your textbook to the first chapter.

Wanda reached over to move the textbook so it was centered between the two of you and as she did so, your fingers brushed against each other. You almost shivered at the act, the soft touch feeling like too much but not enough at the same time. Wanda didn’t seem affected as she began to dig into the material, asking you what the professor had already gone over.

She somehow kept finding ways to touch you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or her fingers grazing your own over the textbook as she pointed to pictures and paragraphs. You could barely answer her questions, the close proximity and subtle touches making you yearn for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda was just as affected; she was just better at hiding it. She couldn’t understand why but she kept intentionally finding ways to be closer to you. She didn’t notice the effect it was having on you, too preoccupied with steadying her own heart rate every time she felt your skin against hers.

She’d always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. She didn’t know why she was struggling to keep her composure around you now. She’d always found comfort in your presence - you often studied together, came home drunk from parties and cuddled in the same bed, or watched movies together laying side by side, the computer across both of your laps.

Something about this study session felt weirdly intimate. She was enjoying teaching you about her passion, physics and science, and maybe that was part of it. She chalked it down to that and tried to push her feelings aside, focusing on helping you with your studies and being a good friend.

A friend - that’s what she was to you and that’s how it would stay. She couldn’t complicate something so perfect with these conflicting feelings of wanting more from you.

Despite both of you trying hard to ignore how you felt, the air was still charged, the tension still there. It wasn’t just this time either - it became a regular occurrence.

Wanda helped you with physics at least once a week and her eager guidance actually helped you grasp the subject more. You found yourself falling in love with the way her eyes would light up when you brought up a subject she knew a lot about. She was so excited every time you understood it too, feeling both accomplished that she could help and proud that you were getting it.

She found it adorable when you didn’t understand something and she loved the way your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to think harder about it. The two of you became closer than ever, which you didn’t think was possible. You and Wanda were already attached at the hip when she wasn’t deep in her studies and you never expected to feel like you were getting to know her better just from a few study sessions, but you loved it.

You found yourself wanting her, despite trying to repress those feelings. Sometimes when you got an answer right and Wanda beamed with excitement, you only wanted to break the distance and kiss her, to feel her lips against your own and wrap your arms around her neck as she kissed you back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips as she spoke, imagining how soft they’d be against your own. Whenever she bit her lip, you wished she was biting yours.

The thoughts weren’t always so innocent though. Yes, you wondered how she would taste as you kissed her, but you also wondered how she would taste with your head between her legs. You wanted to thank her for her help by making her cum on your fingers right there in the library, where anyone could see.

You tried to shake those kinds of thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking of your best friend that way, especially when she was being so kind as to tutor you on the subject you struggled with. She didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with, her workload keeping her fairly busy, and here she was making sure you could pass your physics class with flying colors.

And here you were, too distracted by thoughts of fucking her to pay attention to Newton’s law of attraction. The only law of attraction you could think about was how you felt about Wanda.

Wanda was in the same boat, cursing herself for threatening to ruin your friendship with this newfound attraction towards you. She wondered if her seemingly innocent thoughts about you in the past were actually just the seeds of this desire for you, only now flourishing the more time you spent alone with her.

Whenever she felt your gaze on her, it made her feel hot all over. She tried to ignore it and focus on the material, reminding herself that you just needed help with physics. That’s what she was there for, nothing else.

But sometimes, she wished it was more. When you weren’t looking, she’d rake her eyes over you, taking in the sight of you beside her, feeling her heart stop in her chest when you’d catch her staring. You convinced yourself she was just watching you to make sure you were immersed in the subject, when in reality she was most definitely checking you out.

Still, her eyes on you made you nervous and you brought your attention back to the textbook in front of you solely to rid your cheeks of the blush she caused.

One particular night in the library nearly changed everything.

You read Wanda’s notes about motion and energy, scanning the pages to better understand the concepts. While you admired her neat handwriting and the cute ways she annotated her own notes, Wanda admired the concentrated look on your face.

She was so lost in watching you that she barely noticed when you spoke.

“So special relativity is the exception to Newton’s laws when objects move at high speeds and general relativity is when objects are too massive, right?” You asked, looking up at her for confirmation as she stared at you intently, a slight smirk coming across your features when you caught her.

“Yes,” she choked out, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “And quantum mechanics?”

“That’s the exception when objects are very small,” you responded, feeling confident in your answer.

“Good job,” Wanda praised, making your heart flutter. “You’re really getting it.” She looked at you with nothing but pride and approval, smiling softly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling hot under her gaze. Despite how nervous she was making you, you didn’t break eye contact.

The two of you sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other, until Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second. You almost thought you imagined it at first, but then she did it again. You mimicked her actions, looking down at those lips you wanted so desperately to capture with your own.

You swore Wanda was leaning in and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. Your faces were mere inches apart now and you could feel Wanda’s warm breath against your lips.

Before you could close the gap, the door to the library opened and startled both of you. You turned to look at who came in, silently cursing them for ruining the moment as Wanda pulled back to look too.

There was an awkward silence before Wanda cleared her throat. “So now that you know what quantum mechanics is, let’s move on to the definitions of atomic and subatomic,” she said, her voice nearly trembling as she tried to recover from the heated moment you shared.

“Right,” you responded, turning your attention back to her notes, trying to calm your racing heart.

You and Wanda had almost kissed, everything suddenly felt very real. But instead of addressing what just happened, Wanda moved on, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.

You played along, focusing on looking for the definitions she mentioned, finding it difficult to learn anything new when you had just come so close to kissing the brunette.

The rest of the study session felt tense and slightly awkward, but you made it through the last of the material without any hitches - or almost-kisses. Eventually, the two of you packed up your things and headed out, discussing projects and exams on the way back to your dorm.

A few days later, you were watching a movie in bed when Wanda came in, smiling brightly with a skip in her step.

“What’s got you so giddy today?” You asked, pausing your movie.

“Do you remember Vision, from my data analysis class?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding.

“He just asked me out,” she said excitedly. “I said yes of course. We’re going out on Friday, he’s taking me to dinner.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, trying to be happy for her when all you could focus on was the feeling of your heart breaking.

“That’s great, Wands,” you muttered. “I’m happy for you.” The words felt fake coming out of your mouth but you kept up the act and tried to ignore the jealousy bubbling within you.

“He’s so sweet, he even used a silly joke about data to ask me out,” she went on, continuing to tell you about her day as you listened, your mind elsewhere the entire time.

All you could think about was the kiss you almost shared, how it meant everything to you and nothing to Wanda. Obviously she wasn’t interested in you like that and you wondered if you merely imagined the intimacy of the library study sessions. You had to come to terms with the fact that the tension you felt in the air when you were with Wanda lately was all in your head.

You thought when you almost kissed that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way. Now, you realized you were horribly wrong, the harsh reality hitting you like a truck. Wanda was just being nice helping you study and you let yourself believe that it was more. You felt incredibly stupid, wishing the ground would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to hear any more about the date Vision was taking Wanda on.

What you didn’t know was that Wanda only said yes to Vision out of pure denial. She was having a hard time coping with her feelings for you and this seemed like a good way to move on, to try to save your friendship from her own selfish desires. She was excited for her date, hoping that it would take her mind off of you.

Maybe Vision would be the perfect guy for her and she could fall for him instead. He was handsome, slightly dorky, and very chivalrous, always holding the door open for her when they showed up to class at the same time. He was planning on taking her to a lovely restaurant near campus and Wanda was trying her best to look forward to it.

Friday rolled around and Wanda went on her date, which couldn’t have gone better. Vision greeted her at her dorm with flowers, walking her to his car and taking them to the restaurant. He listened intently while Wanda talked about herself and her passions, seeming genuinely interested. He paid at the end of dinner, leaving a generous tip for their server which Wanda found attractive. He asked politely to kiss her when he dropped her back off and didn’t pressure her for more.

Despite how wonderful the date was, Wanda was frustrated. She didn’t feel a spark with him like she did with you. She didn’t feel anything when they kissed, not even when he cupped her cheek in his hand as he moved his lips softly against her own.

Wanda felt more butterflies in her stomach from your hand brushing against hers during a study session than she did from kissing Vision at the end of their date and she hated it.

She figured it would take some time to get over you and continued to see Vision, going on a couple dates a week with him when she had the free time. She tried to continue your study sessions as well, but you told her you didn’t need the extra help and to just have fun with Vision. She felt slightly hurt - she didn’t like the idea of you not needing her anymore - but she was also proud of you for taking on the subject on your own.

You, on the other hand, were avoiding Wanda at all costs. You only came back to the dorm when she was in class or when she was already asleep, staying out late hanging around college parties that weren’t nearly as fun without your best friend.

You were in far too deep and came to the conclusion that you needed to move on in order to stay friends with Wanda. So you kept your distance, hoping that not seeing her or hearing from her would help you lose feelings for her.

You also couldn’t bear to see her with Vision; the sight of them together on campus made you feel sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to hear about their dates either, knowing it would destroy you. You couldn’t possibly listen to Wanda describe how he got to take her out and kiss her and hold her when it should’ve been you, not without revealing your true feelings to her.

While you spent your days hiding from the brunette, Wanda was confused as to why you were avoiding her, not understanding that it was an act of self-preservation.

She had so many things she was excited to tell you about - being the top student in her relativity class, getting a perfect score on her nuclear and particle physics exam, and of course, her budding relationship with Vision. The opportunity to tell you never came, as you were gone until she went to sleep and out of the dorm before she woke up.

She missed your study sessions, even if not having those intimate moments with you was for the best. She missed your movie nights, your conversations, your presence in general - she missed everything about you. It frustrated her to no end that she could never seem to see you anymore and she wondered how you could possibly become so busy all of a sudden.

She only realized you were actively avoiding her one night when she stayed up late, waiting to see if you’d come back to the dorm.

When you entered, you were surprised to see her still awake.

“Hey,” she said, happy to see you for the first time in weeks. “Where were you?”

“At a party,” you said back coldly. You internally cursed yourself for not staying out later, unaware that Wanda would still be up when you came back. You looked around before grabbing some things from your dresser. “I need to shower,” you announced, leaving the room before Wanda could ask any more questions.

The brunette waited up for you, but you never came back. She waited hours before she finally succumbed to sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she drifted away.

When she woke up the next morning and you were still gone, she knew you were actually making an effort not to see her and she could only wonder what she had done wrong. She mulled over it for a while but came up with nothing. She thought back to the almost-kiss and wondered if maybe she had made you uncomfortable that night.

Days went by and you continued to avoid her. Not knowing why you were staying away from her was driving her crazy. Her grades even began to suffer from how distracted she was in class, her mind consumed with thoughts of you.

She finally decided to confront you about it, but first she’d have to actually find you. She vaguely knew your class schedule but didn’t want to corner you in a public place, so she went to the one place she thought you might be late in the evening.

As soon as she entered the library after hours, she saw you in the corner at the same table the two of you used to sit at for your study sessions.

You were nose deep in your physics textbook, focusing intently as you tried to understand the topics without Wanda’s help. She walked over to you, mentally hyping herself up for the conversation she was both anticipating and dreading.

When you set the book down to take notes, you looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda approaching you.

Before you could say anything, she was taking a seat across from you. “Why are you avoiding me?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, her tilting to the side.

“I- I’m not, I-” you stuttered out.

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t lie to me. You’re never back at the dorm anymore, you stopped spending any time with me, you literally said you were going to shower and just never came back. So don’t you dare lie to me right now.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you said nonchalantly, not wanting to tell her the truth. “I have a life outside of you, you know.” You regretted the words as soon as you said them.

“Bullshit,” she responded, getting angry. “You’re avoiding me and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. What did I do to you?”

“Nothing, Wands,” you reassured her. “You didn’t do anything. I just- I need to be alone.”

“Why?” She didn’t let up. She came here to get answers and she would get them one way or another.

“It’s personal,” you tried, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

She scoffed. “What’s so personal you can’t share it with your best friend?”

You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t tell her the truth and risk ruining your friendship, but at this point there was barely anything left to ruin. You hadn’t seen Wanda properly in weeks, your friendship with her was practically nonexistent at the moment.

When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, softer this time. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything,” she uttered, reaching out to place a hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you this,” you mumbled, feeling your resolve weakening.

“What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” She asked, her heart falling at the sight of you looking so small under her gaze.

“I- I can’t stand to see you with him,” you whispered, your voice so low she almost didn’t hear you.

“With who? Vision?” she asked and you nodded, looking down at your lap. “I still have time for you too, I’m not choosing him over you,” she tried to dispel your worries, not yet understanding what you were implying with your confession.

“No, Wanda, I can’t stand to see him with you,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t get it, you are choosing him and it hurts too much to be around you.”

“What are you saying?” She questioned, feeling both confused and hurt.

“I’m saying that I like you, Wanda,” you started. “As more than a friend.”

Wanda was silent for a moment, processing what you were telling her. Could she really have been so oblivious that she didn’t notice you wanted her too? It all made sense now. You’d stopped hanging out with her right around the time Vision came into the picture and she couldn’t figure out why, but now she understood.

“Please say something,” you said, feeling nervous and vulnerable as you looked up at her, unable to read her expression.

“I- I didn’t know,” she managed to get out.

“That was kind of the point,” you retorted, half-smiling to alleviate some of the tension.

Wanda let out a suppressed laugh. “I only started seeing Vision because I like you too,” she began. “I thought if I could be with him, I wouldn’t have to worry about complicating things with my feelings.”

Your mouth fell open at her words; you weren’t expecting her to ever reciprocate how you felt about her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said.

“Me neither,” you mumbled, looking down at her lips for a moment before making eye contact with her again.

She smirked when she noticed where your eyes went, making you blush. “I don’t think that’s a problem anymore,” she said, her eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.

“I think you may be right,” was all you could say before you stood up and walked around the table. Wanda stood up too, meeting you halfway as you pulled her in for a kiss that was long overdue.

You sighed against her lips, kissing her deeply the way you’d wanted to for so long. Your mouths moved together perfectly and it felt so right, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.

This was what Wanda was waiting for.

The kiss she shared with you was everything her kiss with Vision wasn’t. It was electrifying in the best way, butterflies erupting in her stomach with every movement of your lips against hers.

When her tongue traced your bottom lip, you nearly moaned into the kiss, immediately granting her entry. Your tongue collided with hers and she whimpered, the sound going straight to your core. You brought a hand up to caress her cheek, your other hand going to the back of her head to play with her hair, causing her to let out a soft moan. This was everything you could’ve imagined and more.

Wanda’s hands came up to your face, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. Your lips and tongues moved in tandem, neither of you wanting to stop any time soon.

When you finally did detach from her, it was to catch your breath. You stayed close, your noses still touching as the two of you breathed against each other. You felt every breath from the brunette against your skin, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you finally opened your eyes.

You pulled back slightly to look at her, her eyes opening to meet your stare. Her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours looked similar. She looked so beautiful looking at you longingly, her lips swollen from the kiss and her breaths coming out labored, green eyes sparkling with lust and adoration.

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Wow indeed,” she agreed, chuckling as she pulled you in for another kiss, this one much shorter than the first.

A comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you taking in the moment.

“So what now?” you asked, looking at her tenderly.

“I don’t know,” she answered, biting her lip. “It’s safe to say the friendship is ruined at this point, because I don’t want this to be the only time we do that.”

You nodded your agreement. “Me too,” you replied, your eyes falling to her lips once again. “I want you, Wanda. I have for so long.”

“I want you too,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll tell Vision it’s not working out. I want to see where this goes.”

You made a face at the mention of his name and Wanda chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t like him, huh?” She teased.

“Not one bit,” you murmured. “Not when he got to have what I wanted so badly.”

“Charmer.” She smiled at you, her cheeks turning red at your words.

“Can I kiss you again?” You blurted out, feeling your own cheeks redden at your neediness.

She responded by pressing her lips to yours once more and letting her tongue slide into your mouth, humming into the kiss contentedly.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, languidly kissing in the library after hours, catching up on lost time.

When you went back to your shared dorm for the night, you picked back up where you left off, this time with Wanda in your lap as you laid in your bed. Every once in a while, she’d grind her hips down against your lap just to hear you grunt in arousal against her lips.

You fell asleep together in your bed, Wanda’s head on your shoulder as her breathing evened out.

The following week, Wanda ended things with Vision and you took Wanda out on a proper date. Vision’s date paled in comparison to the one you took her on. This date was better simply because it was you and not him, but on top of that, you took her somewhere nice and treated her like a princess the whole night. She practically swooned every time you held the door for her, complimented her, or pulled out her chair for her.

By the end of the night, you were on cloud nine. It was just like spending time with your best friend, but this was infinitely better because you could kiss her whenever you wanted and tell her how beautiful she looked at any given moment.

You walked back to your dorm together, fingers interlocked as you listened to her talk about her dreams after college. When you made it back to the dorm, you opened the door to let her in first.

“Such a gentleman,” she joked, stepping in, and you followed.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now,” you said, pushing her against the door softly and looking at her for permission to kiss her.

A pang of arousal shot through her at your words. She wasn’t expecting you to be so bold, but she also wasn’t complaining. “Oh yeah?” she asked, playing along. “How about you show me?”

You didn’t hesitate as you kissed her hungrily, the feeling of her lips on yours making you feel dizzy with lust. You slipped your tongue into her mouth and she gasped at how eager you were, kissing you back with just as much fervor.

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, making her moan as you licked and sucked at the soft skin there. Her perfume invaded your senses and you groaned against her neck, her scent making your knees weak.

Her moans spurred you on as you sucked at her pulse point. She gripped your shoulders, her head thrown back against the door, eyes fluttering closed as you continued your assault on her neck.

She pulled you back up for another kiss, moaning into your mouth when you sunk your teeth into her bottom lip. When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, you ran your thumb along her bottom lip, gazing into her lustful eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” You checked in with her, wanting to make sure she was really okay with what was about to happen.

“I’ve never been with a woman before,” she admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “But I want it to be you, please.”

You nearly groaned out loud hearing her beg for you, nodding as you lifted her up and carried her to your bed. You placed her down gently, crawling on top of her and kissing her again.

You once again began your descent, kissing her neck and sucking on her soft spots. She squirmed beneath you, feeling herself becoming wet under your touch.

Your fingers found the bottom of her shirt, playing with the fabric as you silently asked for permission to remove it. “Take it off,” Wanda whispered, starting to feel desperate from your slow teasing.

She sat up so you could pull the shirt off of her and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall from her shoulders. Your mouth fell open at the sight of her bare chest, nipples already hard. You’d seen her topless before while she was changing, but never like this. You’d never been allowed to look as much as you wanted, to admire her before you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” you said, bringing your hands up to her chest as she leaned back again. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, causing her to let out a whimper that sent heat coursing through your body.

You leaned in to take one of her nipples in your mouth, licking it gently before sucking on the hardened bud. Wanda moaned at that, the sound making you even more aroused. She sounded so pretty moaning under your touch and you couldn’t wait to hear what she sounded like when she came undone for you.

You gave her other nipple the same attention before moving down, one hand finding its way under her skirt. Your fingers reached her center, feeling a wet spot on the front of her underwear.

“You’re so wet for me,” you mumbled, in awe of how turned on she was. It almost made you feel a bit cocky, knowing it was you who made her so wet she was soaking through her panties.

“Please,” the brunette gasped out, bucking her hips up against your fingers. “Need you.”

“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” You cooed, rubbing your fingers along her slit over her underwear.

She nodded frantically, her hips desperately trying to meet your hand for any sort of friction against her aching pussy. You pushed aside her panties to touch her without any barriers and you let out a moan of your own at the soft, slick feeling of her folds against your fingertips. She was dripping, her wetness clinging to your skin and the lace of her panties as you dragged your fingers through her folds teasingly.

All of a sudden, you pulled your hand back and she whined, already missing the contact. “Shh, I’m just gonna take these off, okay?” You asked, subtly making sure she was comfortable with you removing the last of her clothes.

“Yeah,” she responded, lifting her hips so you could pull her skirt and panties off in one motion.

Once she was rid of her clothes, you took a moment to appreciate the view before you. Wanda was gorgeous all over, you thought to yourself, admiring her underneath you. You raked your eyes over her, committing the sight to memory as she blushed against the covers of your bed, feeling hot under your gaze.

“You can stare all you want later, right now I need you,” she said breathily, grabbing your hand and bringing it to where she needed you most. Your fingers met her wet center once more and you immediately started rubbing her clit, making her moan and buck her hips.

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as you picked up your pace, making tight circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, just like that,” she whimpered, her face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, heavy breaths escaping her as you brought her pleasure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you mumbled, watching her throw her head back and close her eyes as she got lost in the feeling of your fingers against her.

You stopped your movements just long enough to tease her entrance and upon hearing another “please,” you slid a finger inside. You fucked her with one finger for a few moments before sliding another one in, causing her to let out a guttural moan at the feeling of you stretching her out.

You kissed down her body again, making your way down to where you desperately wanted to taste her. When your hot mouth met her clit, she let out another delicious sound, her hips starting to grind against you, chasing her pleasure. Her movements caused her clit to rub against your tongue while your fingers pumped inside of her and she felt herself becoming close already.

“You taste so good,” you praised, barely moving your mouth from her pussy to speak, before reattaching your lips to her clit and sucking hard. She moaned at your words and at the pressure building in her lower stomach, continuing to rut her hips against you.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close,” she moaned, one hand coming to the back of your head to keep you there, as if you would ever deny her anything.

With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came undone, loud moans filling the room as she reached her peak. Her hips stuttered against your face, her clit pulsing under your tongue while her pussy clenched around your fingers.

You slowed your movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks, small whimpers and moans leaving her as she came down from her high. She sighed, all of the tension having left her body, before pulling you up for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.

“I could get used that,” she hummed, smiling up at you tiredly.

“Me too,” you panted out, still incredibly turned on from seeing her cum for you. “I kinda can’t wait to do it again.”

“You want me that bad?” She teased, smirking.

“Absolutely,” you replied genuinely, staring at her with so much love and lust in your eyes it made her heart flutter and her pussy throb.

“Go ahead baby, fuck me again,” she said, your own cunt clenching around nothing at her words. You returned to your new favorite spot between her legs and did exactly what she told you, her hand in your hair guiding you the whole time.

After three more rounds, Wanda was spent, and you joined her at the head of the bed, letting her turn towards you and rest her head on your shoulder. You held her close as she traced patterns on your arm, catching her breath after falling apart for you so many times.

“Do you still need help with physics?” She asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled at that. “Yes, desperately,” you responded, letting a hand come up to play with her hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She laughed, finding it amusing that you’d needed her help the past few weeks but were too stubborn to ask for it. “Study session this week?” she suggested, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your fingers on her scalp.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, smiling happily, feeling at peace in the arms of the girl you loved.

You never would’ve thought you would be so grateful for having to take a physics course, but now you were certain it was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #college wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #bottom!wanda maximoff #top!reader #alexa writes

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yvesssssssss · 3 days ago

Text

Bet (3)

Never go back to the person who did you dirty. Some things are better left in the past. :P

Part 1 part 2

It had been three weeks since that rainy day.

Since that smile.

Since Nagumo realized there was no going back.

You’d looked at him like a classmate you barely remembered. Polite. Indifferent. Kind, even—but not the kind he used to know. Not the kind meant for him.

And that should have been the end of it.

But life—cruel, ironic, nostalgic life—had other plans.

It was late.

The campus library was near empty. Finals week had drained most students dry, and even the vending machines were out of stock. Nagumo hadn’t meant to stay this long—he never studied this hard before. But something about the silence, the routine, the loneliness… it gave his brain somewhere to go that wasn’t the past.

He was packing up when he saw you.

Not across the room. Not from a distance.

You were right there, standing in front of the returns desk, flipping through a book with a crease in your brow. The hoodie you wore wasn’t Gaku’s—it was yours. Your old one. Faded at the sleeves. You looked tired. Human.

And then you looked up.

The silence hit harder than any sound could have.

You blinked, like maybe you weren’t sure it was him.

Then your lips parted. “Yoichi.”

Not Nagumo. Not hey. Just his name. His real one.

It scraped something raw inside him.

“Hey,” he said, too quietly.

You didn’t walk away.

Instead, you sighed and gestured to the bench by the windows. “I don’t want to stand.”

He nodded. Followed.

You both sat. The air between you held years—lifetimes—of unsaid things.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you murmured, eyes fixed on the dark glass in front of you.

“I could say the same,” he replied.

Another silence. But this one didn’t cut.

It just… hung.

“I saw you that day,” you said finally. “Behind the stairs.”

He swallowed. “Yeah. I figured.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. I thought it’d be easier.”

“Was it?”

You didn’t answer. Just tilted your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut.

“I hated you,” you said, as simply as if you were reading from a grocery list. “For a long time.”

“I know.”

“And I hated myself even more—for still checking your socials. Still wondering if you ever meant it. Any of it.”

“I did,” he said instantly. Too fast. Too late.

Your eyes met his. Clear. Tired. Still beautiful.

“Then why?”

Nagumo exhaled, the breath shaking like a damn confession. “Because I was an idiot. And a coward. And I thought if I kept pretending it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t hurt when I lost it.”

“But it did.”

He looked down. “Yeah. It really did.”

You nodded slowly, fingers gripping the edge of your book like a lifeline. “I loved you, you know.”

“I know.”

“And I think a part of me always will.”

He closed his eyes.

Because that—that—was the knife.

“I’m happy now,” you said, and your voice was soft. Almost apologetic. “Not because I stopped loving you. But because I stopped needing answers.”

Nagumo bit the inside of his cheek. “And Gaku?”

You smiled, barely. “Gaku saw me. Not the version you wanted me to be. Just… me.”

He nodded. “He’s good at that.”

Silence again.

But this one felt like closure.

Not an ending. Just a page turning.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Yoichi,” you said as you stood, tucking your book beneath your arm. “I just… needed to know you were real. That we were real. Even if it ended.”

He looked up at you, eyes rimmed red but no tears falling. “You were the only real thing in my life.”

You gave him one last look. Gentle. Sad. Forgiving.

“I hope you find something real again,” you said.

And this time, you walked away.

No hoodie. No anger. No heartbreak.

Just peace.

And Nagumo?

He stayed on that bench, letting the weight of your goodbye settle in his chest like dust in an old room.

You didn’t come back.

But you left the light on.

#sakadays #sakamoto days #sakamoto days x reader #nagumo yoichi #nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi x reader #sakamoto days nagumo

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alexanderlightweight · 21 hours ago

Note

omg I'm obsessed with your new Sentinel/Guide AU, currency of fate. (And I love your brain's decision to go 'can't pick. make new instead!' lol)

I would be utterly delighted if I could request another installment of that series, maybe set a decade or so in the future with Magnus seeing Alec for the first time, or vice versa? (Alec feels sneaky enough in this to get into Pandemonium undetected if he wants to.)

Thank you so much as always for writing and sharing - you make my week every time! :) [Writer's choice for sfw/nsfw]

hi laws, ty because I got really excited over the idea of Alec being born online and Magnus' magic haunting the narrative ^_^ look my brain says 'oh a fork in the road? bet! we're jumping off the cliff and rolling down the whole way'.

and thank you for prompting and reading! also another prompt came in for same verse so the part like a year after this is here

I hope you enjoy <3

lumine

Alec really doesn’t know why he’s not allowed to go into certain parts of New York. Oh there’s no rule or law, but there are unspoken and ever changing lines that the shields around his mind and Jayr react to.

They allow more the older he grows and so Alec knows it has to be something important, for the future. Except it’s the one thing that tempts him, to push the boundaries of where he’s allowed to go by the shields. They tighten around him protectively — possessively — whenever Alec goes somewhere they don’t like or someone from an Idris pride approaches him.

Most guides train to work with their sentinels by choice, but the assumption here is that Alec’s sentinel will join him. Unbonded sentinels come to see him regularly, mostly women though the prides are stubborn enough that they’ve also sent a few interested men despite the Clave’s protest.

Nothing and no one Alec’s met has ever registered as remotely interested in, let alone comfortable with. In order to let the magic made shields in his mind go down, Alec will have to want someone else to be that close to his mind instead. Nothing in him has been convinced by any person thus far, hence his solitary journey as youngest and only solo head to an Institute so far.

There’s only so long he’ll be allowed to stay both HOTI and unbonded but Alec doesn’t feel the urgency of seeking a pairing just yet. Someday the constant parade of sentinels will begin to wear on him more than it does, yet there are other things that keep Alec's attention.

At nineteen the magic doesn’t try quite as hard as usual to stop him and Jayr’s growls aren’t sincere enough to stay his feet and Alec slips through the invisible boundaries.

His instincts guide him deep into Brooklyn and even to the wardlines of Pandemonium. A club that Alec knows belongs to the local Archon.

Alec shouldn't, he knows that but it doesn’t stop him from slipping inside just deep enough to see the sentinel whose magic guards Alec’s mind.

He’s beautiful.

High Warlock Bane, the Sentinel Archon of a territory so vast that even the Clave was unsure of the boundaries.

Alec nearly steps out of the shadows and towards him. There’s an allure to his very presence that Alec wants to bask in. The thought is enough that the magic of his shields finally reacts and Alec hopes for a moment that Bane will see him, notice him through the crowds and magic and wards and even Alec’s own shields.

Instead something pushes him back into the darkness, a solid nudge from something both heavy yet soft, the scent of fresh snow lingering around him as he finds himself back on the Institute steps.

“Did I just get portaled?” He asks Jayr, because that shouldn’t be possible and yet deep red eyes watch him silently, bold with amusement. There’s no answer in Jayr’s gaze and Alec already knows he’s lost any hope of another chance.

He’ll just have to wait for whatever the wards and Jayr are waiting for, now.

With that in mind Alec reaches out, the boundaries of the world limited only by the abilities of his mind. It felt a little like flying, letting his mind brush out over the streets of New York and Alec stayed apart from them even as he assessed the general state of the City.

While there is little he can actually do, unbonded and alone as he is, it's still better to know what's going on than to wait for a surprise.

With that in mind, Alec steps into his shower and opens the bottle of shampoo that is his favorite. The amber liquid is thick and rich in scent and while Alec knows that it's handmade, he hasn't been able to figure out who makes it or where it's coming from. The wards are at fault, but Alec can't be mad when the scent soothes some of the loneliness he sometimes feels.

Cahya: excuse you, why is he even here? we discussed that

Jayr: ... we could let them meet a little early. a year isn't much.

Cahya: ... and you thought pandemonium would be a good idea? Magnus would kill everyone in here first.

Jayr: alec's getting too powerful too quickly, I know we wanted him fully awake and with all of his powers active before they met but it could be years and we can't wait that long.

Cahya: we agreed twenty or with all his powers awake. he's not twenty yet.

Jayr: I still can't believe you just shoved him through your shadow and made a portal out of it.

Cahya: Magnus nearly caught his scent, so be more careful. at this point, we'll be lucky to make it another year -

they're trying to get Alec to twenty because it's healthy for guide brains to be aware of other beings around them but from how possessive the shield made from Magnus' magic is, it's unlikely that Magnus will let many things interact/touch Alec's mind after they bond without that layer of 'himself' present. basically it's making sure alec's personality is stable and formed. which like, is definitely true. he'll always be pretty easily influenced by Magnus but that's also his personality. there was no helping that.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #currency of fate #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #shadowhunters

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peachybun-bun · 1 year ago

Text

Actual footage of me racing to read this at 7 am.

I’ll put my spoilers under a read more cause damn baby, my beautiful V, you ate. I want more self indulgent content from you.

Just hope you heard the cheers from me in the air when you opened with Jeonghan. In my my head I knew where we were going without reading the warnings. I was so happy.

I LOVE each man having their own nickname for the reader too. It’s so cute. Then the pool scene?! I was squealing.

Her finally asking Joshua for the threesome! Not breathing anymore. Him watching Jeonghan fuck her? Deceased. Jeonghan not letting her touch?! Ahhhhh then the spanking. The evil twins are too much in bed. I want more. I crave it.

But then V!!!!! When she said it was just sex I almost choked. I literally had a no girl no moment. Then he got up! You better chase after him. I was Shua telling her to fix it lol. I can’t WAIT for the next series and to see what you bless us with.

My favorite New York Times bestseller

badsleeper | city lights series

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader x yoon jeonghan ✮ genre: a tiny bit of fluff and angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, boyfriend joshua, best friend jeonghan, friends to fucking ✮ word count: 24.5k

🎧: step? – bibi | say nothing – yugyeom ft. leehi | nvrmnd – soulbysel ft i.m | bonnie & clyde – dean

→ previous chapters – read more – playlist

› nsfw warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption (no dub con), threesome, no cheating, another obnoxiously long sex scene, dom joshua, dom jeonghan, brat reader, foul language, a bit of praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, voyeurism, oral sex (m, f), rough bj, cumeating, cumplay, unprotected p in v sex, jealousy, possessiveness, manhandling, tag teaming, rough sex, doggy style, dumbification, near religious experience during sex, crymaxing, use of butt plugs, anal sex, double penetration, aftercare. brat taming: spanking, light bondage. pet names: baby, princess, bunny (hers) babe, baby, baby boy, handsome (joshua's) ✮ a/n: hiii! to preface this i'd like to let you all know that this chapter is canon to the series. and also this is a little self indulgent thing i've been planning for months (literally this draft has been collecting dust since december 2023) so.... i hope y'all indulge with me ε('｡•᎑•`)っ💖 ✮ a/n ii: there's a weird time jump in the middle of the chapter but.... i hit text block limit again and didn't want to split this chapter ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part ix — finale

"It pains me to say this but, this is not going to work."

An elderly woman standing nearby glanced at you and the tall, handsome man before you. A surprised look on her face upon overhearing him announce such a thing in the middle of an airport.

Jeonghan broke in laughter before you could formulate a response. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder with one hand.

"Very funny," you mumbled embarrassedly.

"Ah, come on, princess, have a little fun," he teased, a smile that only foretold his upcoming playfulness. "Aren't you going to miss me?"

"You'll be gone for a week. I'll survive," you rolled your eyes, arms crossing on your chest. "Maybe I'll miss you a little."

"Well, I won't," he laughed cheekily before continuing on his little act, raising his two hands, palms exposed to you in a gesture of finalization: "I am tired of babysitting you. You're awfully corny and overbearing all the time and I need a break. It's time that we saw different people."

You could tell he was acting, but something about him doing it with such ease made you pause. "Hannie, do you actually think that about me?" you asked, your voice dropping drastically.

Jeonghan's smile dropped, his lips pouting as he spoke: "Of course not, why would you believe that I'd think that?"

You instantly composed into a bright smile. "I'm playing with you," you chirped.

"Tsk, you little rascal," he scoffed, swiftly wrapping an arm around your head. "C'mere," he muttered as he ran his knuckles on the crown of your head.

"Stop it," you hissed, trying to get him to stop hugging your head to breathe.

"Okay, okay. I have to go now," he said, releasing his hold on you to take a look at his watch.

"Have fun on your trip, Jeonghan," you smiled at him, debating whether to hug him goodbye or not. You knew he wasn't big on hugs or gestures of affection, but you couldn't fight the impulse of opening your arms to him.

He paused for one second before taking you in for a quick hug, using his hand to ruffle your hair once again with. "Right," he muttered awkwardly and shifted the weight on the bag hanging on his shoulder.

Jeonghan began to turn away, and you almost wanted to let him walk further but you quickly called. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

He stopped in his tracks, turned, and walked right back to you, fishing something out of the pockets of his black sweats. He grabbed the key to his car from the ring with his fingers, dangling them in front of your eyes.

You reached out to get the key, but he quickly snatched it away before getting it on your grasp.

"You get one scratch on it and it's over for you," he muttered dead serious, eyes locking with yours, he had to tilt his head forward to do so.

"What are you going to do?" you challenged, holding his gaze.

You could tell that he wasn't expecting that, a smirk appeared on his lips. "I'll make you pay for it in some way or form," he shrugged.

"Don't worry I'll take care of it," you said with ease.

"Are you sure, though?" he said, still holding the key to his car up in the air and out of your grasp, he teased nodding his head at you: "Let me see your permit again."

"Jeonghan, you need to go now or you're going to miss your flight," you rolled your eyes.

"Fine," he said, lowering his arm for you to grab the key, but quickly snatched it again. "No eating in my car. And don't have your boyfriend fuck you in there, trust me, I'll know."

"Jeonghan!" you squealed dramatically and looked around you to make sure no one overheard him.

However the man in front of you laughed at you with amusement, his nose wrinkling, mouth opened wide as he did so. But he finally handed you the key to his car.

"One scratch," he lifted one finger at you as a stern warning, but the smiling features of his face betrayed him. He patted your head one more time, turning away as he said. "Try not to miss me too much, princess."

Something deep within you twisted in nervousness, so hard that it robbed you of speech. You wished that you had recovered fast enough to tell him something, anything. But by then, Jeonghan had already disappeared in the sea of people, you couldn't even spot him by the yellow hoodie he was wearing. His favorite one.

With some reluctance, you turned to walk out and towards the spot Jeonghan had parked his flashy and elegant car. In some way the black BMW M3 screamed rich guy with a very expensive taste. At first glance even, anyone would think it's a car for someone serious, not the friend that has the comedic skill of a clown.

But as you slid yourself into the driver's seat, a deep sense of alarm and nervousness kicked right in. Releasing a shaky sigh, you gathered your hair in a ponytail, securing it with a pink scrunchie; somehow having your hair out of the way made you feel focused.

It had been a while since you drove a car. Reminiscing on the very old skill you acquired during your college days, you adjusted the seat so that your arms could reach the steering wheel without stretching your arms too much. Then you did the same for the mirrors, catching the anxious expression on your face.

But despite your self-consciousness, you arrived home safe. As a celebratory act you untied your hair, leaving your scrunchie behind, perhaps forgotten in Jeonghan's car with your many other lost scrunchies.

Deeply compelling, bloody, and sexy.

Those were the words swimming around most of the early reviews of your book. For better or worse, the popularity of your book had risen quite dramatically even days before its official release, so you kind of had to brace yourself for all kinds of chatter around it.

You had to refrain yourself from seeing reviews so early, since you didn't want to be influenced while working on the draft for the second book in the trilogy.

So needless to say, your book is doing fine.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway that led into your apartment, you noticed quickly that the door next to yours was open. A tight, flashing pain crossed your heart when you understood that someone was viewing Joshua's old apartment.

It was inevitable that you would get new neighbors, and it seemed funny for a second to you that you were stuck with grief for the time when Joshua was just thirty seconds away from you.

Joshua was still away. He left the following day of your book release, only after pampering you with love, and anything that you requested. He would only be away for a few more days to finish recording Midnight Haze's first studio album, and then he'd be back, though for how long he didn't know yet.

Back in your apartment, you went directly to your bedroom, opened the drawers of your dresser and started to move your stuff to make space for Joshua's clothes. Subconsciously, you started threading on the intricate details that you needed to get done for the second book draft. Since there was nothing better you could occupy your mind with, that could actually put you to work.

But your thoughts inevitably drifted away as you cleared one of the drawers for your boyfriend's stuff. Then, you found yourself thinking of him, of the time he was here last; he made you breakfast before you woke up, you found him munching on some blueberries as he served you a plate of french toast.

Joshua had been keeping his promise, getting your texts back and calling you every night before he goes to bed; he does this last thing even though you might not share the same time zones—he knows that you'll be awake.

Sleeping alone resulted even more difficult, now that your body has had a taste of what it feels like sleeping in the warmth of your boyfriend's loving embrace. Even though you haven't shared that many nights with him as an actual couple, it was something you wished you had more of.

"All I'm saying is that food tastes better with a recently cleaned mouth."

"That's psycho behavior," you replied, rolling your eyes to the ceiling, while holding your phone to your ear.

"Oh, so you're saying that you never wash your mouth, got it," Jeonghan said jokingly, he had been going for what felt like hours.

"No, you're saying that orange juice tastes better after brushing your teeth!" you squealed, huffing loudly when you heard his mocking chuckle of his.

"I'm just teasing you," he mumbled.

"I know, I hate it," you said, but there was a smile on your face.

You heard the loud slurping noises as Jeonghan ate noodles. "Shouldn't you be asleep right now, by the way?" he asked and you could tell that his mouth was full.

"Can't sleep," you muttered as you scrolled through the draft to your second book. "I have a ton of work to do."

"Wait, you're working? Isn't it like... three in the morning right now?"

You hated that you could almost picture him raising his wrist to check out his smartwatch.

“Yeah, it is,” you mumbled aloofly as you skimmed through one of the monitors of your computer.

“God, you are a workaholic,” he tutted. “Don’t you ever take a break?”

“I do whenever I submit a draft,” you mused, smiling to the irony.

“You should be resting,” he insisted. “You know, the hotel where I’m staying right now is very nice and it’s not as expensive as I thought it would be…”

Something caught your eye when you opened up your emails tab. “Oh,” you uttered when your eyes went over the mail.

“What?” you heard Jeonghan reply. “I’m just saying that you and Joshua could come together, you know, you both deserve a break from work.”

You paused, focusing on the contents of the email that you received hours ago, but neglected since you were preoccupied with drafting the second book. “Oh,” you gasped.

“Hello?” Jeonghan said after a few seconds. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” you laughed in utter bewilderment.

“I am very confused,” he confessed. “What’s going on?”

“I am being nominated for an award,” you gasped. “Well, not me, but my book.”

“Same thing,” he replied. “That’s exciting news, princess. Did you find out just now?”

“Yeah! I’m just reading the email right now,” you laughed with incredulous joy.

“See? That’s something to celebrate,” he insisted. “Another reason why you should take a break.”

“Or it is another reason to keep working so the second book meets the readers’ expectations,” you countered with a mad rush in your brain, pushing you to sit through more hours of typing.

“You are so annoying,” Jeonghan said, but you knew by the tone in his voice that he was smiling. “Listen, I booked a tour and it’s just about to start so, call you later?”

“Yeah, sure,” you blinked back to reality. “Enjoy your tour, Jeongjeong.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, wait!” you squealed.

“Yeah?” he waited.

“I forgot to ask you,” you sighed embarrassedly, bringing your palm to your forehead with a smack. “Joshua is arriving in a few hours and I wanted to ask you if I could borrow your car.”

There was a pause, and you almost decided to take it back and tell him that you could take a taxi there.

“Of course, princess,” he replied. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Sure?”

“Just remember, no scratches and no fucking in my car,” he giggled deviously when you squealed out his name.

The line went dead after that.

You took part of Jeonghan’s advice, shutting the computer off and deciding to go to bed and attempt to sleep again.

The pink scrunchie was sitting around the rear mirror of Jeonghan's car when you slid yourself into the driver's seat. Letting out a big puff of air, you gathered your hair all in a ponytail, securing it with the scrunchie and then started the car.

You were extremely nervous. And not because you were driving the most expensive thing you had ever touched in your life. But because Joshua was finally coming home from the tour. It felt like he had gone for so long it seemed ridiculous to you that only 4 weeks and a half had passed.

It was the reason why you left your apartment with ample time to get to the airport on time and also to drive at a very slow pace, you were simply too nervous to go in the middle lane.

Maybe you were, in fact, an old lady. At least in spirit, as Jeonghan would say.

You remembered the fact that not only Jeonghan had called you that, but also Joshua called you something similar once, a long time ago it felt like. You thought about how similar your boyfriend and his best friend were in some aspects in relation to their personality.

It seemed obvious that the similarities would make them friends. But sometimes, it felt too eerie to be just a coincidental case of telling the same jokes.

When you got to the airport, you still had about half an hour to kill yet. And you were grateful that you had brought a book with your person. To kill time and to occupy your brain with something other than work. Or Joshua. Or Jeonghan.

So you sat back comfortably on the driver's seat. Getting the faint smell of Jeonghan's cologne, and even if you dared to admit it, you got a vague smell of the flavor of vape that he really likes. The green apple one.

You shook your head slightly, trying to regain focus on the words printed on the book you were holding against the steering wheel.

You thought about the soft leather coating the steering wheel, how it was so new that it still had that brand new smell to it. Probably why Jeonghan is so overbearing about his car, is because it's so expensive and new that he wants absolutely nothing to taint it, such as eating on its leather seats. Or fucking.

You sighed in complete resignation, dropping your book back into your bag and opened the door. You stepped out of the black car, getting an odd look from a man that was passing by.

"Huh," you huffed to yourself. Stepping out of a luxurious car really gave you a sense of dominance, and you found out you liked it.

You locked the car and walked to the big doors of the vast airport. Being welcomed with buzzing noise and a ton of people walking around, some hurriedly, some laid back.

You checked out your phone in the hopes of having a text from Joshua, but you knew it was nearly futile. He was still in the air, so that meant he was using that time to get some sleep.

"Mmm," you hummed, pursing your lips and looking around to decide what to do in order to kill the time. And to think of something that wasn't fucking in a car. So you decided to get in line for an obnoxiously expensive cup of coffee and decided to get a cookie with it too.

You knew that your lack of focus was partly due to your bad sleeping habits. But you were also so nervous about Joshua coming home that your brain struggled to put your thoughts in order.

A quarter of an hour passed by at a slug's pace. Joshua texted you simply one word, "Landed."

you: I'll meet you here 🙂 Josh ♡: you're here at the airport baby? you: I am

Joshua stopped texting and you assumed that he had to pick up his luggage. So you rose to your feet, keeping yourself on the lookout for the face you were dying to see.

But the place was swarming with dozens of different faces, it was hard to keep up, and due to your lack of focus it was a bit more difficult to be fast and discern strangers.

A tall man of ashy blond hair drew your attention instinctively, raising some alarm in your sluggish brain that you knew him. It took you seconds, seeing the guitar case on one hand, his duffel bag strapped to his shoulder to understand that Joshua was walking towards you, a shy bur fond smile painted on his face.

He must have seen the surprise in your facial expression, because his eyes lit up. "Hi bunny," he muttered.

You simply just threw your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to clash your lips against his. "Josh…"

"Baby," he giggled when you pressed your lips repeatedly against his lips, cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"Missed you," you mumbled, forgetting that you were in a very public space with tons of eyes watching you shower your boyfriend with kisses.

"I missed you too, bunny," he sighed, the arm around you tightening its grip, bringing you closer to him.

"Let's go home," your tone quivered slightly.

"I love the sound of that," he said, his glinting eyes smiling at you.

"Come on," you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the exit.

"Hold on. Should we grab a taxi or…"

"Don't worry, I got it," you smiled anxiously, fishing out the keys to Jeonghan's car and displaying them in your hand.

"What's this?" he asked and immediately added: "You got a car?"

"No, silly," you giggled sweetly. "It's Jeonghan's."

He sent you an bewildered look. "He left his car with you?"

"Yeah, he lets me use it while he's not here," you shrugged with ease. "Come on, baby boy. I'm driving."

Joshua smiled with a fondness you recognized he expressed whenever he found you cute. But he fell in step with you, lacing your fingers with his as you walked out of the airport and to the parking lot.

"This is exciting," he said once he closed the door to the passenger's seat.

"Put your seatbelt on," you told him, sending him a shameful glance. "Please."

Joshua let out a soft giggle. "Sure thing, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am," you said with a whiny tone in frustration.

"Okay," he whispered, and you saw his downturned smile, he was trying not to laugh.

"And try your best not to distract me," you requested firmly as you gathered your hair in a ponytail.

"How would I distract you?" he asked with genuine curiosity in his tone.

"You just do," you mumbled, reaching out to brush his long hair with your fingers.

"Do you like it?" he cocked his blond hair forward slightly, letting you thread the pads of your fingers through his new hair.

"I do," you admitted. "Though I think I'd even like you bald."

Joshua chuckled sweetly, lifting his chin to you as he said. "Don't tempt me."

"Would you do it?" you asked, seeing the devious glint in his eyes.

"Maybe time will do it for me, but yeah. If you wanted me," he said, but there was a hollow tone in his words, his gaze was focused on your eyes, and then it moved to your lips.

His long fingers cupped your chin gently and his eyes, briefly finding yours before he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours, his breath hitching audibly as you moaned when his tongue traced a line on your lower lip.

"See, you're distracting," you mumbled, before diving in for a deeper kiss, demanding more, trying to make up for lost time.

"Sorry, baby," he giggled and braced himself for a slap that you delivered on his shoulder.

"Put your seatbelt on," you hissed, settling back to the seat and starting the car.

"Yes, ma'am," Joshua breathed out, putting his seatbelt on as you drove out of the parking lot and into the highway.

Despite Joshua being on a short break, he still had a lot of things to tend to. Primarily, visiting his family, his mom and spending some quality time with them. Secondly, he gathered his stuff to bring into your apartment, thus finally moving in with you. Between the move, and him catching up with his life back home, he barely had time to spend with you.

Three days after Joshua arrived home, and deciding that a very long weekend's rest was sorely deserved, you and Joshua boarded a plane, also partly convinced by Jeonghan to go on vacation where he was located at the moment.

One thing led to another and you were now resting on a beautiful suite, after a long night of traveling with your boyfriend, boarding planes and getting little to no sleep during the flight.

So you were slowly awakened by the gentle sound of waves crashing against the distant shore outside the hotel windows. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the brightness of the white room, the curtains opened to let in the pale morning light.

As you lay face down in the large bed covered with white sheets, plush pillows, and duvet, you blindly reached out one arm to find both sides cold. So you turned your head to try to get a view of the room around you.

"Josh?" you called, even though you were aware that you weren't getting a response.

Your phone was left abandoned on the bedside table, but the bed was so large and you were slotted right in the center of it, and being so that you were still drowsy from the very long sleep, you didn't feel like moving yet. So you closed your eyes again, letting yourself drift back into a dream with a deep sigh.

When you woke up again, feeling ready to roll out of bed, you realized that you wouldn't be able to reach Joshua on his phone, since he had left it beside yours, much as if he had preemptively left it behind so he wouldn't have to worry about getting more calls, more messages.

Fighting your way out of the tucked bed sheets, you decided to get a shower to wash away the last slivers of drowsiness that still wanted to cling onto your body.

So you were returning to the bedroom, drying your hair absentmindedly while checking your phone when you heard Joshua return to the suite quietly, probably assuming that he would find you asleep.

But upon seeing you sitting at the foot of the bed, he paused for a second.

"Morning," you muttered dryly.

"Hi baby," he replied with a puffy sigh.

Joshua was covered in sweat, making his ashy blond hair stick to the sides of his face and forehead. He was breathing tiredly, tongue hanging in a gesture of exhaustion.

"Went for a run," he commented in passing, kicking his trainers off. "The weather is nice, it's really hot."

His arms arched back to grab at the hem of his sleeveless tee, yanking it off his body with one move to toss it. Your boyfriend continued to peel his sweaty clothes off, revealing his body as he tossed more clothes on the armchair in the corner of the room.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" you asked slowly as you watched him walk off to the bathroom.

"Have to meet up with a potential manager," he called loudly as he started a shower. "Apparently he's taken an interest in us from a while back. And he's here so I thought it would be a good opportunity to meet up."

You nodded, pursing your lips in contempt as he walked back to toss his boxers with the rest of his dirty clothes.

"I'd ask you to join me in the shower but," he nodded at you.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," you raised from the bed to remove the bathrobe and start dressing up.

If Joshua noticed you were in a bad mood then, he made no comment about it. He just turned around, closing the door of the bathroom to continue with his shower.

You decided to busy yourself, dressing up extra slowly, pulling out from your luggage a lingerie set that you brought in the hopes of it being complimented, and a beautiful summer dress in a color that accentuated your body prettily.

Your boyfriend came back shortly, the lower half of his body after draped in a towel, skin glistening wet now but all clean. His ashy blond hair was pulled back now, dripping onto his neck.

"We could do something tonight," he muttered with some caution as he removed the towel from his body and started to get ready for his appointment.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you pressed your lips into a smile, but even as you did so, you felt unconvincing.

You were suddenly torn with your own reproach at him for barely even spending time with you and at the same time, you couldn't believe that what it took for you to be distracted away from that state of scorn was seeing him naked.

However, Joshua knew what he was playing at, he had you completely figured out. He opened one door to the closet, grabbing the first pair of briefs he found, using his body's motion as he turned to sneak a look at you, finding your gaze trained on his body.

"You're not mad at me anymore?" he asked, a slow smirk curving his pillowy lips.

"I was not mad," you replied with a small voice, sitting back on the foot of the bed.

"Mm, okay," he nodded with his head once, putting on the stretchy boxers with a swift move.

Then one of his knees sank on the edge of the bed, leaning his body forward, motioning your body back on the mattress. A low grunt escaped you as he was now pinning you with his own weight, your pretty sundress being pulled back on your thighs by a large hand.

"You are terrible at lying," he mused with a half smile, the studded eyebrow twitching up briefly. "Even moreso, you're terrible at keeping promises."

You let out a muffle whine when Joshua pressed his hips against yours, making you feel his growing bulge on your core.

"What are you talking about," you muttered, torn between paying attention to what his body was doing and his accusatory words.

"You promised you would tell me everything," he said darkly, but leaned his head sideways to reach your neck with his mouth, muttering against your skin: "You're mad at me, I can tell."

"Am not," you replied, fidgeting under his weight, hands clutching at his bare and stocky shoulders.

"Try again," he chuckled, pressing his lips and tongue on the sweet spot below your earlobe, sucking in a love bite, having a flash of arousal cross your body straight to your core.

"Fuck," your legs tensed up when he started to suck on your skin harsher. "Gentle, Joshua."

"Answer the question," he immediately retorted, nudging his nose on your jawline to lean your head back, so he could run the tip of his tongue on neck, littering it with kisses.

It was hard to focus now. But with a low gasp, you replied. "You are bad at keeping promises too," you stated weakly.

A hand snaked on top of your chest, fingers raking on your skin as he yanked the side part of the sundress to prop another merciless lovebite in a collarbone.

"You-you told me you would make time for me," you stammered, feeling stupid over your sudden loss of boldness.

"And I did," he said sharply, moving his head to look you in the eyes. "Baby, I've cleared my schedule for us tonight."

You pouted briefly, bringing up a finger to caress his beautiful lips.

"Now you, on the other hand, haven't replied to my question," he muttered, his words partly muffled by the fingers on his lips. He shifted his weight, propping one elbow beside you so he could grab your hand.

You dared to roll your eyes hard at him, but that in turn made him smile broadly at you.

"You're still mad at me, but that doesn't stop you from eyefucking me," a wolfish grin appeared on his beautiful face. "Are you wet right now, baby?"

Joshua pressed his lips against the pads of your fingers as his eyes looked at you fondly, amused by your torn behavior. You nodded with your head in affirmation, unable to bring yourself to speak the words.

"You've been neglecting me a little," you whispered, shifting your gaze to his collarbones to avoid his.

"How does it feel, baby?" Joshua asked, releasing your hand to stroke the side of your head, gently threading his long fingers through your wet hair.

"Is this some kind of punishment, then?" you snapped, feeling something click inside your brain.

"No, of course not," he leaned his head closer, pressing his lips flush against yours, slowly at first, repeatedly as he said. "But you told me, you promised me you would talk to me. I have to search for ways for you to do it."

"I just haven't had the chance to, we've both been busy," you retorted with a pained smile, trying to hold his gaze.

"You don't have any issues telling Jeonghan stuff."

"That's hurtful, Joshua," you muttered with a tiny voice, shrinking under his weight.

"Am I lying?"

"Joshua, he is my friend, friends tell each other things, is that bad?" you were applying pressure on his shoulders now, trying to make him budge.

"And I am your boyfriend," he blinked, as equally offended as you. "It's also hurtful that you trust him more than me."

"Is this because I didn't tell you about the award?" you finally caught on.

Maybe you didn't care about the award, maybe you did. But the truth was, you simply forgot about telling your boyfriend about it and in passing, Jeonghan mentioned it in front of Joshua, in a manner of congratulating you for the milestone.

Joshua retreated his body, rising up from the bed with an irked air around him, you saw the features of his face harden and he turned away. It was clear to you now that he was jealous and you almost felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

"No," he replied nonchalantly as he fetched a denim shirt from the closet, putting it on and as he buttoned it up, he rasped: "Yes."

You shrugged slowly. "I found out when I was on the phone with him," you explained, though the feeling of guilt started to set in.

"Still, you didn't mention it to me."

You scrunched up your face in shame and guilt. He was right. You found out about the award days ago, and you failed to tell him about it, all because of your stupid lack of focus lately.

"I'm sorry," you said as you sat up on the bed again, fixing your dress. "I should've said something."

Joshua turned to find his jeans, putting on the ripped black denim in one go. He kept pensively quiet as he slipped on his chelsea boots and rose to his feet.

"I'll call you when I get off," he said, stepping closer to the foot of the bed to cup the back of your head with one hand, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Joshua..." you started, trying to reach for his hand to stop him leaving abruptly.

"It's okay," his gaze softened before his lips captured your own with a light kiss. "I'm not mad. I just wished you'd talked to me."

"And I wish that you could actually make time for me," you whispered, feeling your heart race under the stress of fighting with him.

"I know," he replied in the same fashion as you. "I know baby, I don't enjoy this either... I'm sorry too."

You nodded with your head, choking up on words that you thought of telling him as you waited before he got back to the hotel room. With a frustrated sob, you reached to cup the back of his head too, bringing him closer for a deep kiss.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too, baby. I'll meet you later," he replied, pressing one final kiss to your lips and then your forehead before slipping from your grasp and walking out the room, thus leaving you alone again.

For what could amount to years, you have been really good at taking yourself out to dates. It had been so long since you dated that you were accustomed to being on your own, and you found out that you liked it. You relished in solitude.

You made yourself a mini trip. First you went to grab yourself some breakfast in a lovely restaurant with an outdoors table set with a nice view to the ocean. Then, you walked down the streets, sightseeing in the pretty places, going inside the stores that looked appealing until you reached a museum.

It had been within your plans to maybe go there with Joshua for a little date. Perhaps even, go to the beach together. But you swiftly put those ideas aside, realizing that due to the time crunch he was in it was probable that you weren't meeting him until sundown.

So you were strolling around the different pieces of art on display, fanning yourself with the brochure you were given upon entering the place. The hair on the back of your neck was sticking to your skin due to the sweat that trickled down your head during your walk there.

"I should've known I'd find you here."

You instantly spun on your feet to look back. Jeonghan was closing the distance between you, hands deep in the pockets of his shorts. Despite the weather outside, he was wearing a beanie, probably to cover up his messy long hair.

"What are you doing here?" you inquired with a shaky tone from the surprise of seeing him there. Of all the places, this is one you didn't think you would meet.

"I like museums," he shrugged, but then added: "They make up for great instagram photos."

He pressed his lips in the tiniest of smiles when you rolled your eyes, smirking at him as he finally walked up to you.

"Are you alone?" he asked, looking around the large room. "Where is your boyfriend?"

You saw it in his eyes that he already knew, but nodded when you only muttered. "Working."

"Trouble in paradise, again?" he mused, tilting his head to one side, reading your facial features expertly.

"It's nothing," you averted your gaze from him and onto the display you had in front of you.

But the deep feeling of remorse parking on the pit of your stomach was eating you up. You hated that you felt guilty about telling Jeonghan stuff about your relationship, you hated the fact that Joshua had brought it up.

"I don't know if this will work, Jeonghan," you whispered despite the tears threatening to break you.

"This?"

When you could finally look back at him, there was a frown on his face, the soft lines between his eyebrows deepening as he tried to figure you out.

Then you saw it when he connected your words together, he released the tension on his brow.

"Oh, don't be silly," he tried to smile, to see if you replied with one of your own but when you didn't, and you couldn't stop your lip from quivering, he sighed. "You're only saying that because you're scared. Talk it out with him."

"But we don't actually see each other, and when we do, we don't... talk much," you muttered shamefully, driving your gaze elsewhere and resumed your walk around the gallery.

"What are you actually worried about, then?" he fell into step closely behind you. "From my point of view, you seem like you're only mad that you're not spending time together like you used to."

"But," you blurted, turning around to face him again, making him stop in his walk abruptly before bumping into you. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he whispered, but there was something in his mannerism that made you pause. "But...?"

"It's nothing."

You flicked your hair off your sweaty neck, to keep fanning yourself with the brochure.

Jeonghan's eyes followed your movements with his eyes, inevitably spotting the red hickey below your earlobe that your boyfriend made before leaving the hotel room and a hot wave of embarrassment washed over your face, making you drop your gaze to the ground.

"Tell you what," he muttered, seemingly unaffected by the very toxic display of possessiveness. "Let's go grab a beer and something to eat. Forget about all of this, maybe that's what you really need."

You gathered the strength to look at his face again. Jeonghan pressed his lips in a cute smile, making tiny dimples show on his chin.

"Yeah, okay, I'd like that," you decided with a nod of your head.

"Let's go," he cocked his head in the direction of the museum's entrance and started to walk.

You followed him in silence, feeling uneasy still by Jeonghan seeing your hickeys for some reason you couldn't explain.

Your fingers dragged a large fry on a puddle of ketchup on your plate, you were conscious that your stomach was full, but you were in a mood in which you preferred to keep eating instead of talking about your feelings.

"Are you ordering more?" Jeonghan eyed the lonely fry sitting on the plate, and then your face as you munched silently.

"I don't think I can eat more," you admitted with a slurred speech.

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue with an amused smile.

Jeonghan raised his wrist, pulling his sleeve to uncover his smartwatch.

"D'you think Joshua is still in that meeting?" he asked with some caution to the look he sent you.

It had been hours since your last interaction with your boyfriend, his last text five hours ago read that his impromptu meeting was extending and that it was too important for his band to just cut it short or postpone.

"I think that he forgot about me," you replied bitterly, lifting the large jar which was half full of beer. "And I don't care if he did, I don't wanna think about him."

Worry flashed across Jeonghan's face but he quickly composed himself to ask for the bill and then he turned to you.

"What?" you blurted.

"Do you know how to play pool?"

"Nope," you replied in the same manner.

"Come on, I'll teach you," he pulled out a bill that would cover both of your meals and stood from the booth.

"What, wait," you stammered before grabbing your things and following him out the restaurant.

"Careful," he muttered when you caught up with him, drunk enough that you nearly stumbled against his frame. His hands came to your arms behind you to help you stabilize.

"Thank you, Jeongjeong," you muttered with a chuckle. "And for the food too. Next one's on me, alright?"

The weather had dropped dramatically, the skirt of your pretty summer dress rippled against the breeze that swept down the street.

"Don't worry about it," he said, the hair that wasn't secured by his beanie ruffled against his neck.

"Oh," you uttered when your phone suddenly started buzzing in your handbag.

But just as you were about to see what it was, Jeonghan was tugging your arm with his hand, pulling you aside on the sidewalk before you stomped against a lightpost. You yelped and staggered against his frame, a drunken laugh erupting out of you.

"Watch where you're going, princess," he chuckled, grabbing your arms to keep you on your feet.

"Sorry, sorry," you mumbled, raising your chin to meet his gaze.

You realized with a start just how close his face was with yours, your breath hitched audibly and you pulled back from him.

"Don't be," he said and turned to the door behind him, which you realized was the entrance to a bar. "After you."

You breathed out in utter embarrassment, thinking of saying something to him, maybe cut the outing and leave to the hotel room.

But Jeonghan smiled cutely at you, cocking his head towards the door, motioning you inside.

You walked into the buzzing of the bar, instantly being swept by the dark mood of its interior. Exposed brick walls, checkered sticky floors, dimly lit tables, the distant sounds of the pool tables in the back of the place.

"Come," Jeonghan muttered on your side, and you followed him closely through the wooden chairs and tables until you reached the rows of pool tables and found one that was vacant for you two.

Jeonghan ordered two beers and paid in advance. Turning to you with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Hope you brought cash," he smirked, holding a bill between his pointer and middle finger to you as he set it on the bartop mounted on the wall behind you.

"My wallet cries every time I'm with you," you joked, settling your bag on the bartop and pulling out a bill to stamp it on top of his.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy this," he grabbed one of the cue sticks and handed it to you. "Ladies first."

"Don't you think it's unfair to place bets when I don't know how to play?" you inquired, tilting your head to one side.

Jeonghan grabbed the recently brought beer bottles, handed you one and then he raised his to you. "I'll go easy on you."

You clinked the neck of your beer with his. "I'll take your word for it, Yoon Jeonghan."

Jeonghan tipped the bottle between his smiling lips, drinking in with you.

"But first," he mused, pointing at your face with the top of his bottle. "You need to answer your phone."

You blinked in surprise and turned to the bartop to find your phone buzzing and Joshua's picture being displayed on the screen.

"Oh," you scrambled to get your phone and pressed on the green button. "Yes?"

"Baby? Where are you?" Joshua replied immediately. "I've been trying to reach you."

"I'm sorry, Josh, I... am at a bar," you frowned at your own wording, but tried to get it out as sober as possible.

"At a bar?" he inquired and you could almost see the bewildered expression on his face as his voice sounded. "By yourself?"

"I am wi-with Jeonghan," you rubbed your fingers on the bridge of your nose so hard your eyes watered. "I can send you the location so you can come join us."

"I thought tonight was just going to be me and you," he muttered but you could tell in his tone that he wasn't angry, just confused.

"And I thought that you had cleared your schedule for me," you bit back, however, anger flaring in your body, accelerating your heartbeat.

"I'm sorry, baby," he muttered, his voice dropping into a low rasp. "I thought it would be a short meeting but we got into contracting and planning and time just flew out of my hands."

You rolled your eyes, which were stinging with tears. "I'll send you the location, okay."

"Okay," he whispered.

And then you hung up.

"Is he coming?" Jeonghan called as he removed the pool rack gathering the balls.

"Yeah," you replied as you sent your location into the chat you shared with your boyfriend.

"Nice," he smiled briefly. "Come here, I'll teach you the rules."

You grabbed your cue pick and walked around the pool table where your best friend stood, hands busy holding his beer and pick. Jeonghan took a sip from his beer bottle, smacking his lips as he swallowed happily.

"Pay attention," he advised before starting to tell you the rules to playing pool.

It was a fairly simple game, though you couldn't help but feel your mind slipping away, from thoughts pertaining to your boyfriend, to the way that Jeonghan drank from the beer bottle, back to your boyfriend, to the way that Jeonghan grabbed the cue pick–

"Okay?" Jeonghan asked, his brown eyes roaming on your face, noticing without much effort that you had spaced out through the whole thing.

"Okay," you nodded with your head, cheeks blazing hot in utter shame.

"Okay, then," he decided with a nod of his head. "You do the break, princess."

Your breath hitched as you placed the cue pick awkwardly, avoiding Jeonghan's gaze but once you did look at him, he was biting his lip to avoid smiling at your clumsiness.

"Okay, another thing," he said, setting aside his cue pic and beer bottle and shuffling towards you. Jeonghan bent over beside you, his hands grabbing yours to set it on the pool table. "This is how you place your hand, see?" he turned his head to look at you.

You weren't looking at his hands on yours, however. You were completely absorbed by how close his body was to yours, how on edge the warmth of his body seemed to be putting you in.

"Yeah," you whispered when his eyes dropped to find your mouth.

"You need to keep it firm so your stroke doesn't waver," he explained, but the tone of his voice had dropped. "Understood?"

"Understood," you replied.

"And your arm back here will do all the work," he said, his hand coming up to touch your elbow. "I don't want you moving other parts of your body, got it?"

"I got it."

"Okay, now. Go," he stood up straight to go around the table on the opposite side to yours, coughing loudly as he always did to clear his throat.

"Ok," you whispered to yourself, your lip tucked behind your front teeth in concentration as you pulled your hand holding the cue pick back and motioned it forward with a thrust.

The stroke wasn't as half-bad as you had expected it to be. You stood back and watched the balls break their formation and roam on the pool table.

"Nice," Jeonghan praised with a nod of his head, tipping the beer bottle on his mouth briefly. "You got one ball in a pocket here," he pointed with his cue pick to one corner of the pool table.

"Oh, did I?" you perked up. "Which is it?"

"Solid. So I go for the stripes," he said, pulling his sleeves up, thus revealing his watch on one wrist, and on the other, something you immediately spotted as something familiar.

"Hey! That's my scrunchie!" you jumped and ran to the other side of the table to where he stood. "Give it back!"

Jeonghan raised his wrist in the air, stepping back. "It was in my car," he said with a low chuckle of his.

"It's mine!" you squealed, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Founders keepers, princess," he said in a mocking tone. "It's mine now."

"Jeonghan!" you jumped to reach his wrist, but he simply just stepped back.

"Back off," he muttered with a grin, and then he casted a look above your head. "Ah, Joshuji, you're here!"

Your breath caught in your throat and you twirled on your feet, Joshua walked through the rows of occupied tables, his frame obscured by the lack of lighting as opposed to the very bright lamp on top of the pool table you were standing by.

But upon seeing him, you couldn't help but feel your face being taken over by a big smile. You could tell that seeing you smiling at him had an effect on him, he replied with a smile on his own, leaning down to press his lips against yours. "Hi handsome," you mused.

"Hi beautiful," he replied warmly and turned to greet his best friend.

"We were just starting," Jeonghan said. "I'll go grab you a beer, hold on."

And without any preamble, he left straight to the bar, thus leaving you alone with your boyfriend. So you reluctantly moved your gaze to meet his, finding an apologetic expression on his face.

"Baby, I–,"

"How was your meeting?" you asked in a sweet tone, cutting off the sentence you knew he would say.

Joshua blinked. "Fine, it was fine," he frowned slightly. "We have a new manager."

"That's great!" you smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad. I'm also glad you're here."

"You're not mad at me?" he inquired, seemingly thrown off by your attitude.

You sighed in resignation. "I'm not mad," you decided. "I just want us to have some fun tonight, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, pressing his lips into a tight smile. "Thank you, baby."

"Don't mention it," you stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips, giving him a brief kiss.

Jeonghan came back, offering Joshua a new bottle of beer. “Thanks, man,” Joshua smiled at him and then turned to you. “I didn’t know you liked to play.”

“This is my first time,” you grinned. “Jeongjeong was just teaching me how to play.”

“Wanna team up with her?” Jeonghan asked Joshua, a devious smile appearing on his lips. “Price of entry is five.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense,” you interjected, acting scandalized. “If he’s with me we count as one person.”

“Fair enough,” Jeonghan shrugged. “You should know Joshua is terrible at this, by the way.”

You turned to look at your boyfriend, who just rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, baby,” he said, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked at the pool table. “What are you?”

“Stripes,” you mumbled.

“Solid,” Jeonghan corrected.

Joshua giggled, tipping his head back. “Oh, baby. You should stop betting against this guy.”

“It’s fun,” you shrugged, watching Jeonghan lean down on the table, his eyes set on his game as he calculated the direction, pointing the cue stick with a firm hand on the green surface of the table.

And with a hard thrust, the point of the cue stick hit the white ball, sending two stripe balls to the edge of the table, one falling into a pocket.

“Nice,” Jeonghan hissed with a satisfied smile, looking at the ball that almost made it to a pocket, thus possibly securing an easy game.

“My turn,” you mumbled with a sigh, feeling shy now that you were being watched by your boyfriend.

You analyzed the balls spread around on the table for a second.

“Remember, the striped ones are mine,” Jeonghan said with a slight amusement to his tone.

“I know!” you replied.

So you bent over the table, taking your time to be certain that your hand was placed correctly on the table and the other secured the cue stick with firmness before you thrusted your arm forth, sending the white ball towards your target ball.

“Oof, close, princess!” Jeonghan watched and his body swayed to the side as he put one arm around his cue and hugged it.

“Umn,” you pouted and looked over your shoulder to find Joshua. He was leaning back against the bar top, looking over you with a small smile on his beautiful face.

“Want help?” he offered, pushing his body off the bar top and stepping closely behind you.

“Yeah,” you breathed out some of your embarrassment. “I’m terrible at this.”

“You’re learning, baby,” he offered you a kind smile. “Nobody is good at this at first try.”

"I was," Jeonghan protested, bent over the table, and smashed the end of his cue against the white ball, pushing the ball that was already on the edge.

"No, you weren't," Joshua bit back at him, shaking his head, a hint of annoyance in his tone. But his gaze softened when he found your face again. "You need to add more impulse to your stroke, moving your hip forward."

You nodded slowly before bending over on the pool table, gripping your cue firmly on one hand and setting the end on the other. Joshua's hands came to aid the position of your body, the touch on your body sent a shot of arousal through your body, as though a bolt of lightning.

Joshua leaned over on your side, his body really close to yours, his hands shifting your body. "When you move the cue to hit, make sure you put some weight on this side," he said, his hand clenching your hip over your pretty dress and moving it forward slightly. "Keep your aiming arm firm and your elbow straight, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, looking at his rosy and puffy lips.

Joshua noticed immediately, the shadow of a smile twitching on his lips before pulling his body back. "Go."

You wished you could say what happened in that moment, but it definitely aroused something deeply taunting within you. Bending over the pool table, you felt two sets of eyes on you.

Jeonghan stood at the other end of the table, his eyes trained on you. And you suddenly realized that his eyes were not on the game. He was looking at you.

Casting a look over your shoulder. Joshua was also looking at you, his ashy blond head tilted to one side, his dark beautiful eyes wandering over your body, stopping to read your face, understanding what he saw in your warm cheeks, in your flustered face.

A slow, knowing smile stretched on his lips. "Eyes on the table," he muttered before the moment stretched any longer.

The game ended a moment later with Jeonghan collecting your money, a sly grin as he said: "We should do this again sometime."

Despite having lost against him, you nodded. "I'd like that."

You had enjoyed some part of playing pool, that being the times where you actually hit the balls into pockets and not when you were being sorely and evidently distracted by your boyfriend's hands and lips.

Joshua laced his fingers with yours as you walked back to the hotel room together. Jeonghan was drawing from his vape pen deeply, going on for what felt like half a minute and letting out the puffy flavored air in your face.

"Jeonghan!" you pushed his shoulder, making him cackle.

"Well, tonight was fun," Jeonghan said as he stepped out of the elevator on his floor. "Have a nice night."

"You too, Hannie," Joshua said, encircling his arms behind you to press your body flush to his front as the elevator doors closed and you were alone.

"Josh…" you carefully called when he pressed his lips on your shoulder over your dress, moving up to kiss the crook of your neck, and then under your earlobe.

"Mmn?" he muttered, tightening his grip around you.

You bit your lower lip hard as you considered how to word out your next question.

"Do you…" you asked but then he planted an open kiss on the red hickey on the curve of your neck, making you jump slightly and blurt out: "Have you ever had a threesome?"

Joshua paused his kisses, he removed his arms from around your waist and made you turn to him. "Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing in intrigue.

"Answer the question."

The elevator arrived to the floor and you were left with the question in the air as your boyfriend practically dragged you into the hotel room, swiftly closing the door behind you. Joshua Hong had you figured out when he turned to you, taking to steps so that he was looking at your face, reading your reaction as he said:

"What are you suggesting, baby?"

"Nothing," you breathed but a tiny smile betrayed you.

"Tell me," he insisted, his voice dropping to a gentle mumble.

"I… was just thinking that," you started, but you realized that you didn't plan your words this far. So in a string of fast stammers you blurted: "You know, you've told me that you would accept to do it if I wanted to do it and I want to. Do it."

Joshua smiled, it was a downturned smile. "Do you want to have a threesome, bunny?" he mumbled, raising a hand to brush the back of his fingers down your cheek.

"Yeah," you whispered, shuddering slightly when his fingers tangled on your hair on the back of your hair. You felt the hard muscle of his chiseled chest as you rubbed your hands up and down his torso.

"What made you want it so suddenly?" he mused, but he knew you. He got you figured out the minute you posed the question. "Bending over the pool table got you horny? You saw how we were looking at you and you liked it. Is that right, baby?"

"Mm-huh," you breathed as his lips grazed yours with a feathery kiss. "I-it got me thinking."

"Oh, you insatiable little thing," he said, sighing a smile. "Do you want me to ask Jeonghan? Do you want him in bed with us?"

The question was so brutally crude that it had your breath catching on your throat, quite loudly. "Yeah," you breathed. "I… want you both to take turns with me."

"Mmnn," he hummed as he kissed your lips repeatedly and you wished you could see his face, to get in insight as to what he was pondering between kisses.

But he just bent down, lifting you from the ground with his strong arms holding your legs to prop you on the bathroom marble sink with a low squeal in surprise from your part. Joshua's hands cradled the back of your head, fingers tangling on your hair as he pulled on it, making you angle your head back and give him access to kiss your neck.

Joshua moaned when your hands roamed all over his body, circling his shoulders and then to his back, feeling over his shirt the lines between the muscles of his toned back until you reached the hem of his black denim jeans. A smile breaking on his lips as he pressed kisses on your face when you dipped your hands beneath his clothes to feel his round butt.

"What else?" he muttered breathily on your neck. "What do you want, baby?"

A moan coiled in your throat when his lips reached your throat, and you were almost amazed that your boyfriend appeared to be considering your crazy proposition. "I want you to watch him fuck me," you blurted breathily. "I want you both inside me too."

Joshua sighed and you knew he was smiling on your neck. "Baby, are you serious?" he asked, pulling his head back to read your face.

There was a fascinated glint in his eyes, the small smile crowning his lips, Joshua was amused. "Yeah, I'm serious," you smiled with embarrassment. "I want this."

Your boyfriend considered your words for a brief moment, but to you it felt like forever. Your heartbeat strummed hard against your chest as he leaned over, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "Do you remember how to prep yourself, baby?" he asked, his voice barely above a mutter.

Your hands were still holding onto his shoulders, fists clenching on the fabric of his denim shirt when you understood what those words meant. "Yeah," you replied after swallowing hard.

Joshua pulled away from your neck, his lips traveling to your cheek, pressing tender kisses. "I'll talk to him, meanwhile you go get cleaned up," he said, breath fanning against your ear, making you shudder slightly.

"Okay," you nodded, turning your face to press your lips against his own.

Your boyfriend paused, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as his big brown eyes scanned your face. "Are you nervous?" he asked, his voice still strained and you, when you nodded with your head, understood that he was nervous too.

"I am," you admitted with a small giggle that made Joshua show you a smile, crushing your heart over the beauty of his face. You encircled your arms around his neck. "But I want to do this."

"I know," he replied, the studded eyebrow twitching up. "Don't think I've forgotten about the filthy porn you wrote in your book."

Joshua's smile only widened when your laugh echoed on the tiled walls of the bathroom. "Shuddup," you gasped embarrassedly

"If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too," he admitted, his gaze softening and the smile reducing into a mere small curve of his pretty lips.

"Why? You've done this before," you frowned in confusion.

His hand cupped your chin, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you felt your heart quiver. "Yeah, but this is the first time it's with someone I love," he confessed, the weight of his words so heavy that his voice was merely a whisper.

"Do you want to do this, Joshua?" you asked, reading the features of his face to pick up any signs of reluctance. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay, baby. I won't mind."

"I do. I want to do this," he replied not a second later. "It's just that... this is new to me too."

You could've sworn that the love and adoration blooming in your heart showed in your face, his dark eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly.

"What?" he asked.

"You're cute," you giggled, pressing your forehead against his. "And I love you so much."

The tiniest of groans left his mouth before you met his lips with yours. "I love you too, baby," he replied with a smile that you felt in your mouth. "So much."

With a brief open kiss, he peeled his body off of yours and turned to start the shower for you. He flashed you a smile and pressed his lips to yours before heading out of the bathroom, leaving you in privacy to get on with preparing yourself.

You threw a quick glance around as you came back to the bedroom, your body wrapped in a hotel bathrobe. You were deciding on what to wear as you heard the click to the door, your stomach dropped and you twisted to see that it was only Joshua coming in.

"You startled me," you breathed out with a sheepish smile as you watched him walk to you.

"Sorry, baby," he pressed his lips in a smile before grabbing you, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Jeonghan will be joining us shortly."

"Oh," you sighed, your body suddenly burning with anticipation.

"Are you ready?" he looked at your body, and smiled upon seeing the bathrobe. "I thought you'd be wearing something else."

"I just came out of the shower," you mumbled awkwardly. "I honestly don't know what to wear."

"Wear nothing," he showed you a downturned smile but when he saw your expression again he shrugged. "Wear something comfortable. I will."

Joshua turned away to get undressed himself, sending you meaningful glances when you discarded the bathrobe, the corners of his beautiful lips curving slightly as he watched you rummage in your bag for clean panties to wear.

"What did you tell him?" you inquired as you gathered what you wanted to wear for the occasion.

"Just that we wanted to have a threesome, and that I told you that he would be up for it," he replied, still looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "I'll text him when you're ready."

"I need to know how the conversation happened," you said with a shaky tone, and you smiled embarrassedly at your own jumpiness.

"I told him just that, baby," he chuckled, his eyes turning into half moons.

"Did you tell him about..." you looked upwards in embarrassment. "About what I want?"

"That," he started, sending you a look with a smirk. "Is something I'll leave to you."

"Josh!" you squealed, and he giggled sweetly. "I thought you would tell him!"

"I think that is something that you should tell him, baby. There's nothing wrong with voicing out your wants and needs," he said with the most natural air about him.

You groaned in frustration, only making him giggle again.

"Baby, Jeonghan and I have done this before," he explained with seriousness now. "You don't have to worry, he'll probably accept whatever you want us to do."

"Mmph," you stood there, clothes folded in your arms as you kept your thoughts to yourself.

"Ready, bunny?" he asked, driving you away from your train of thought. He had lost his black denim jeans and the shirt, now wearing a black tank top and gray shorts.

In his hand, you saw that he had brought out from his luggage two things, the training plugs that he got for you and a bottle of lube, you nodded.

"Yeah," you breathed out, placing your clothes at the foot of the bed. "How do you want me?" you asked, overly conscious of how lewd you sounded.

"Sit on the bed first," he instructed, biting his lower lip, a darkened gaze roaming all over you as you sat in front of him. A hand came to cup your chin, his long fingers grazing your jawline. "Come here," he whispered before he leaned down to kiss you, his wet lips capturing your own with a low grunt from him.

You raised your arms to encircle his neck, your fingers reaching his ashy blond hair as you kissed him back. "You're so hot," you whispered.

Joshua hummed in your lips, and you felt how the corners lifted in a smile. "Ditto," he said with a low grunt as he kissed you again. "So fucking hot, everyone had their eyes on you."

"Oh, don't lie," you chuckled.

"I'm serious," he mumbled, the tip of his tongue sliding on top of your lower lip. "That dress you wore tonight..."

"What about it?" you breathed as his lips continued to press on yours, his hands coming down to sink in the duvet, leaning forward so that you could lie down, his body hovering on top of yours.

"It was... you looked so hot in it," he replied almost aloofly, kissing your chin, then trailing down to your neck until he reached your breasts. "You sexy little thing, you don't know the effect you have on people. On me."

That made you laugh, the sweet sound making him raise his eyes to meet yours.

"It's just a dress," you mumbled meekly. "But I can wear it again some time, just for you."

Joshua smirked before leaning closer to wrap his lips around your nipple, teasing it with his tongue. "I'd love that, baby," he replied.

A moan coiled in your throat when he moved his mouth to tease your other nipple. It was short-lived though, sitting back on his knees, he patted you with his hand.

"Turn over, bunny," he instructed.

You rolled over, feeling the bed shift at your sides. You lifted your head to find him leaning over to prop a kiss in your shoulder blade, knowing how sensitive you were in that area.

"Remember how to do this?" he whispered, his lips trailing on the line of your back, making you squirm slightly.

"Ye-yeah I do," you stammered, fist clenching on the white duvet.

"Ass up, baby," he patted one of your buttcheeks with his hand and you immediately pushed yourself onto your knees, elbows flatly on the bed.

"Good girl."

You licked your lips before sinking your teeth down on your lower, focusing on relaxing. The noise behind you was distracting, turning your head to see what it was you saw him spreading lube on his fingers.

He sent you a look as he rubbed his fingers together briefly, setting the bottle aside to plant his hand on your lower back. The pads of his lubed fingers pushed on your hole, and you immediately turned your face on the duvet.

"You're okay?" he asked upon seeing your reaction.

"Keep going," you muttered, closing your eyes to focus on his fingers pushing on you, spreading them open ever so slightly, making you moan deliriously. It was kind of insane to you that you could get aroused with so little.

"So wet," he whispered, probably seeing your juices gathering in your pussy. His fingers spread a little more, causing your body to contort and a little more when the hard tip of the plug pushed in your hole. "How does it feel?"

"Alright," you replied, flinching dramatically when Joshua pushed the butt plug more, toying with it inside you.

He laughed breathily and patted you again. "That's my baby," he murmured. "Get ready, I'm telling Jeonghan to come over."

As you turned to fetch your panties, reality seemed to sink in: you were about to do something you haven't done before. And you were about to do it with your boyfriend and your best friend.

Joshua paced around the bedroom as he typed on his phone. You laid back on the pillows, deciding it was best to calm your jumpiness if you relaxed on the bed.

You had decided to wear one of his wide t-shirts, which was proving to be very comfortable pyjamas, and tried your best to calm your frantic heartbeat.

"He's here," Joshua said a moment later, walking over to open the door.

You sank down on the pillows, watching your boyfriend pace back to the bed, sitting down beside you to plan a kiss in your brow, probably seeing that you were still nervous about this.

Jeonghan walked into your view shortly after, hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie, almost as if he was carrying himself with a heaviness that only allowed him to move slowly, cautiously.

Oh, god. What do you say in situations like this? You wondered. What is Jeonghan thinking? Is he wondering, like you, how wildly your night changed for all of you?

"I'm here," he muttered, shrugging slightly.

Jeonghan was wary. You noticed that with a drop to your stomach. He was probably nervous about how your friendship would look like after this, just as you were.

So you sat on the bed slowly and crawled over to the foot of the king size bed, eyes set on the man that you had learned to confide in and trust. He was standing before the bed, frozen, mind reeling—you saw it in his eyes when you stood on your knees and his heavy gaze set on yours.

"Jeonghan," you called his name softly. "There's this... thing, a fantasy of sorts that I've been wanting to try out, and... there is no one else I'd rather try it out but you."

Confusion crossed his features ever so slightly, furrowing his brow, but his eyes never deterred from yours.

"Do you want to do this?" you mumbled to him. "You can walk away right now, and it'll be okay."

His lower lip parted a little and then his gaze shifted, eyes darkening. You got to know each other so well that you could see that he had his mind resolved in that moment. And it almost robbed the air out of your lungs to know with certainty—Yoon Jeonghan wanted you.

Jeonghan didn't ask for permission from the man behind you, and neither did you. A hand snaked to your waist, at the same time you pulled him by the collar of his hoodie, bringing him closer, his sweet eyes capturing yours, then your lips, then back to your eyes.

There was nothing to be said, just the exchange of glances before his lips touched yours. You held in a breath, tasting his in the process, just before his lips locked yours in the slowest, tenderest kiss.

His tongue caressed your lower lip slowly, pushing past it and played with your tongue briefly, your wet lips making a soft smacking sound when your friend pulled away.

In that moment, something clicked in your brain. Jeonghan had been burning to do this. He'd been burning to get a taste, a touch, to scratch the itch off his brain.

And you did too.

"Do you have a safeword, princess?" Jeonghan muttered in your mouth.

Your entire body became alight with anticipation and you breathed out your safeword.

"Before we do this," Jeonghan muttered, now sending a look to your boyfriend. "Is there anything I should know?"

You turned your gaze to Joshua, who was still lying in the same position. It made your stomach clench that he seemed almost unfazed, amused and... turned on.

"Like what?" Joshua asked, his studded eyebrow twitched. "We're both tested and clean, if that's what you're referring to."

His eyes locked on yours. "Is there anything off limits?"

You took a moment to breathe in, experiencing a very intense feeling of déjà vu. "Nothing is off limits, Jeonghan," you mumbled, using the hand still gripping his hoodie to bring him closer.

The last thing you saw was his half smile as you clashed your mouth against his, feeling his soft lips again, the warmth of his tongue on yours, making you moan in his mouth desperately needy. A burning wave rushed from your knees to your face, embarrassment coursing through you as you were now vulnerable at the eyes of your best friend.

But Jeonghan's hands slid beneath your oversized t-shirt and got to business without skipping a beat, almost as if he were in a rush or under time to get you under his touch.

With his thin fingers he caressed the line of your back, bundling up the t-shirt up to your armpits. You broke away from his lips to give him ample space to get rid of the oversized t-shirt, uncovering your bare breasts to his full view.

"Are you just gonna watch?"

Jeonghan blurted out the words without tearing his eyes from your body, much as if he were unable to, or as if he didn't want to look at your boyfriend.

"For now, yeah," Joshua emphasized.

"Why?" Jeonghan mumbled as his lips returned to your own, kissing you deeply this time. A hand came up to your side, tracing lines between your ribs with the pads of his fingers, making you squirm a little.

"I want princess to know what she's up for first," Joshua said with a slight tinge of amusement to his tone.

Jeonghan groaned when your hands slid under his hoodie, discovering that he wore nothing beneath it with a satisfied moan of your own.

Your fingers felt the muscles of his abdomen twitch upon your touch. And relishing at your discovery, your hands traveled from his tummy and up his chest, fingertips dancing on his soft skin.

His hands flew to seize your own and pulled back his head. "Umn, you're touchy," he grunted. "Tsk, we can't have that, princess."

You heard a soft sigh behind you. And you didn't need to look to know your boyfriend was smiling, probably enjoying the show of you discovering that your boyfriend's best friend is just as dominant as himself.

You tried to free your wrists from his grasp, but he didn't budge. Jeonghan bit his lower lip, a weak attempt to mask the smile that crept on his face.

"I want to see you, Hannie," you mumbled sheepishly. "It's only fair, right?"

Jeonghan pulled your hands out of his hoodie, shaking you a little when he used the control he had over you when he pulled you to his chest, planting a hard kiss on your mouth.

"Get on the table," he murmured in your mouth.

You gulped your nervousness down and nodded.

Climbing down from the high bed and walking over to the small table that served as a desk and turning to first sit your butt down and propped yourself up using your hands for support.

Now, you had a fuller view of the two men staring at you. Your eyes fell on Joshua first, he had moved to the armchair in one corner of the room beside the bed. Presumably to get a better view of what your best friend would do now.

"Baby, why don't you tell him about your fantasy?" he asked, noticing your eyes on him with a lazy smile at you.

"Lie down," Jeonghan commanded quietly, but waiting for you to start talking about the fantasy that has brought you this far.

You leaned back on the wooden table of the hotel room, only big enough to support half of your body so you instinctively pushed your knees back, planting the soles of your feet on it too.

A shudder crossed your spine when his lithe fingers tugged at the band of your panties and pulled them down your thighs. You extended your legs out for him to slide your panties down, tossing them to the floor.

"Move your legs up, baby," he said softly, grabbing you by the knees and pushing them up so the soles of your feet were flat against the desk, legs parted for him.

This way Jeonghan could have a view of your body. And you realized by then that he wanted you the farthest he could get you from Joshua.

"What's this fantasy about?" he inquired softly, as he continued to busy himself, propping down his arms at your sides, hovering over you as he leaned down to litter your skin with feathery kisses.

You ran a hand on his scalp, pulling his long dark hair back. "I want you to fuck me, Jeonghan," you stated boldly at your best friend. "I want you and Joshua to take turns with me, use me."

Jeonghan had the exact reaction you thought he would. At first he looked at you in complete bewilderment, his big brown eyes reading the honesty in the features of your face. And then, as you had expected, his eyes lit up dauntingly, smiling slightly at you.

"Is there anything in particular you want to do?" he asked, though you felt like whatever you asked of him, he'd do it but he would want to do so much more.

The truth is, you just wanted him. You wanted to feel him, to taste him, to hear him share this with you. Nothing more.

"Just do whatever you want to me, Jeongjeong," you mewled sweetly, your hand sliding from his nape and onto his cheek.

He appeared to be enjoying your touch for a second, before he grabbed your hand and placed it back on the table, his fingers encircling your wrist as he leaned down to drop kisses on your lips.

"Anything, baby?" he whispered as his lips littered your jawline, neck and collarbones with kisses.

You thought about it for a second, you thought about how comfortable he spilled that pet name for you in front of your boyfriend. "Of course. Whatever you want."

"Okay," he replied in a hollow tone, his mouth reaching your chest, his fingers moving from your wrist, pressing the palm of his hand against yours, slowly interlacing his fingers with yours as his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples.

"God, Hannie..." you instantly mewled, his tongue pressed on your pebbled nipple, moving back his lips, suckling the nub, humming along his teasing before he moved to your other breast.

His tongue pressed on the center of your boob, circling around your nipple, leaving a tingling trail of drool as he darted a look up at you.

"Th-that feels good," you muttered, using the hand that wasn't held by his own to caress his hair.

"Will you do anything I want?" he asked abruptly, throwing a glance at you, your eyes met and you found a fiery need upon them, making your stomach clench nervously.

"O-of course, Jeonghan," you replied, your voice quivering a little.

His pretty lips stretched in a sweet smile. "I knew you'd be a good girl."

Your whole body burned, limbs tingling in arousal and anticipation as you understood that your best friend was just as dominating in bed as your boyfriend.

"Do you think about me much, Jeonghan?" you ventured to ask, daring to bat your eyelashes at him.

"You have no idea," he whispered, the confession robbing him of voice it seemed, his eyes roaming on the features of your face, absorbing your reaction with the ghost of a smile.

The shudder that shook you had you blinking rapidly and uncontrollably for a second, it elicited the tiniest of groans from you, from the exhilaration, the fascination over this.

"What do you think about?" you asked, your voice sounded sweet, almost distant as he leaned down, pressing his lips on yours slowly.

"I thought of you," he breathed, you realized he was smiling then his lips pressed on yours again. "Of doing this, kissing you."

"Just kissing me, Hannie?" you pressed, feeling your heart almost leap out of your chest from how bold you sounded.

You wondered if Joshua was able to hear this, to hear the way your voice dropped, to hear you let out a mewling sound as Jeonghan's hand came up to grab your face by your jawline and move you slightly so that he could litter kisses on the underside of your jaw.

Jeonghan shook his head, "No," he mouthed, licking his lips thoughtfully and he backed off, just so he could take a view of your body on the small table.

His hand left your jaw, the pads of his fingers trailed down your collarbones, raking your skin between your breasts, making you squirm over the tingling sensation.

"You are so beautiful," Jeonghan said quietly, almost as if he didn't intend for you to hear.

The hand finally parked on the middle of your tummy, a fingertip slightly dipping in your belly button, sending a delirious shiver throughout your body. The expression on his face was of fascination, you assumed, from seeing you naked for the first time, from having his hands on you like this.

"Thank you, Hannie," you gave him a sheepish smile, aching to sneak a look to the corner of the room, where you knew you would find the man watching this whole exchange.

Jeonghan released the hand that he had laced with his to keep you from touching him. "Stay still, princess," he commanded, though his sweet voice made it seem like it was mere advice.

You sucked in a breath, immediately rendered immobile when the hand that was on your tummy moved further down, caressing your skin in the process of falling down between your parted thighs.

His eyes darted to yours when his pointer finger swiped a line from the top of your mound, then down between your pussy lips, slowly feeling your soft folds covered in your arousal already.

"Hannie..." you sighed when his middle finger joined, both fingers dipping in your entrance to get your wetness in his fingertips, his eyes locking on yours.

"Try not to move, baby," he responded when you winced quite dramatically on the table as his slick covered fingers found your clit, pressing it before starting to trace circles around it.

Jeonghan leaned over you, you tasted his breath before he kissed you again, his lips moving tenderly in between yours, the tip of his tongue sliding inside your mouth meeting your own.

The kiss was so gentle that you had to force the rapid beating of your body to focus on the prickling sensation on the skin surrounding your mouth, down to your neck. Reaching out instinctively, you felt his fluffy long hair.

But that made him stop, detaching his mouth from yours but not far enough, so you felt his lips move: "No touching, princess," he whispered.

"Would you like to tie me up?" you suggested, feeling brazen enough with your best friend.

"I won't need to," he said, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "Because you're a good girl, aren't you? You're going to do as I say."

The sound of his words sent you into a mad desire to prove him right. You nodded, swallowing hard as the movement of his fingers on your clit switched, pinching the already swollen bud, making you moan as the swirling of his fingers trapping your clit became faster.

Your arms fell languidly on the table at your sides, letting yourself close your eyes, sinking into sweet pleasure, his lips returned to your own, placing featherlight kisses on the bottom lip.

"There we go, baby. Relax," Jeonghan whispered. "Focus on what you're feeling. Focus on me."

At that his lips left yours and you didn't dare to open your eyes again. Instead you felt them again on the spot below your earlobe, his kiss featherlight, moving down your neck, leaving a trail of a tingling sensation that made you squirm.

"Do you like that?" he asked with his soft voice, his mouth so close to your neck that you could hear his breathing.

"Yes, Hannie," you replied with a tiny voice.

The tips of his fingers slid down from your clit, leaving it swollen and aching for more contact, but soon you moaned when his pointer and middle fingers slid inside you to his knuckles.

You squeezed your eyelids when he retreated his hand a bit, and you felt the drag of his knuckles inside your gummy walls to then slide his fingers back inside, repeating the same motion over and over, creating a squelching sound of your sopping cunt against the palm of his hand.

The sound of your breath catching in your throat made you feel even more embarrassed over the wet sounds coming from your pussy. But you still itched to grab his face, or to hold onto his shoulders.

So you did just that, not caring about trying to be good for him anymore. You needed to feel him. Slipping the palms of your hands on his shoulders, hating the fact that he was still completely dressed. As though his plan were to fuck you with his fingers and then just leave.

"Can I take this off for you?" you asked with a meek tone, knowing that you were stepping over one of his no touching rules.

He looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, but nodded with his head. "Go ahead," he whispered.

You eagerly grabbed the oversized hoodie by the sides, making him remove his hand from your pussy, helping you pull the piece of clothing over his head to reveal his creamy white skin.

And then, his movement was faster than you could even grasp, his hands were seizing your wrists, encircling them perfectly with his left hand and pulling them over your head on the table.

"No touching, princess."

You let out a sharp exhale. "But–," you started, but then you had to bite your tongue when you understood; he gave you a piece of his clothing for you to obey one of his commands.

"But...?" he mused, his eyebrows pushing up slightly.

"Nothing," you mumbled, relaxing your arms, framing your head on the table.

"Pull your knees up," he instructed, nodding his head at your legs as you drew your knees in, thighs open for him as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, deeper this time thanks to the new position you were in.

"Fuck," you blurted when you felt his fingers press on your front walls, exploring every inch of you with the pads of his fingers, his eyes trained on your face, capturing your reactions.

"You sound so pretty," he said entrancingly, getting lost in the faces and the sounds you made.

"Right there, Hannie," you mewled when his fingers curved inside you, pressing on a very sensitive spot in your front walls that had you seeing colors behind your eyelids.

You instinctively clenched your fingers into fists, unable to move under his grasp. Jeonghan chuckled softly when you writhed on the table.

"If I let your hands go, will you continue being good?" he asked and you blinked to find him inches away from your face.

"Yeah," you gulped, feeling obfuscated about the no touching rule, somehow being reminded of the familiarity that it carried.

His hand released your wrists, but it was quick to find your cheek to hold for him to press his lips against yours. "I want you to come on my fingers first," he said into your mouth.

The words elicited a violent shudder from you, angling your hips for his hand to fuck your cunt harder, being met with more kisses and a almost inaudible, "Good girl," from his end.

"Hannie..." you sighed, shutting your eyes when the thrusts of his fingers inside you gained force and speed, his fingers teasing that glorious spot he found after exploring your walls, the squelching sounds becoming louder. "Please, please, please."

You were reduced to mere lewd sounds, trembling on the table as the sweet pleasure inside you built up. Eyes shut so you only felt his hot mouth travel from yours and kiss the swell of your breasts, capturing one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue as your moans only egged him on.

"Hannie," you called, hands clutching at the ends of the small table, unable to move anymore. "I'm there, god. Hannie..."

With a strangled sob, you sank into waves of pleasure, your orgasm flooded your body, sizzling under your skin and making you let out a whining moan. You felt your body be overpowered by soft spasms, your walls clamping around his fingers, as well as the plug in your hole.

"Fuck," you heard Jeonghan whisper as your walls squeeze his fingers tightly, but then he said in a louder tone: "Good girl."

You flinched slightly when his lips returned to yours, grazing softly before kissing you heatedly.

"Felt good, princess?"

"Yeah," you breathed out with a smirk. "I needed that."

The statement made you snap your eyes open, stomach twisting violently, leaving you cold on the table for a fraction of a second.

Jeonghan read you well, his head inclined to one side slightly. "Mmn, someone has been neglecting you a lot lately, isn't that right?"

You saw his lips move as he spoke those words openly, only worsening the chilling shudder.

You didn't dare to look at Joshua. You couldn't.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to give you more, baby?" Jeonghan asked, which in his tone sounded more like a soothing purr.

"Please?" you breathed shamefully.

Your eyelids fluttered with a shudder when he pulled his fingers out of your sopping pussy and without skipping a beat he took them into his mouth, licking your arousal off with a low grunt.

"Stay still," he whispered his next command, lowering himself onto his knees, his face at the perfect height to lean his mouth close to your inner thighs, propping kisses, not giving you much preamble before he pressed his tongue between your pussy lips.

"God!" you gasped.

A low chuckle made you turn your gaze to the corner of the room. There Joshua sat on the armchair, leaning his head on a fist as he watched you trying not to move, thighs wide open as his best friend ate you out.

Slowly, you propped yourself onto your elbows, keeping your eyes trained on your boyfriend, understanding on the features of his face that he was aroused by this but you wanted to know more, you wanted to taunt him, to elicit a bigger reaction from him.

Something about his lust-lidded eyes, the dark look he kept on you as he leaned his head on his fist, taking a deep breath which you recognized instantly as one of his methods to resist his own pleasure.

Running a hand on Jeonghan's head, threading your fingers through his fluffy dark hair to elicit a low grunt, sending a brief vibrating feeling between your pussy lips. You caressed his long hair as he sloppily ran his tongue across your folds, figuring you out, tasting you, exploring you fully.

The big and generous strokes of his tongue stopped, his eyes lifting to find yours as he moved his tongue, the pointed tip circling your clit slowly, watching your expression as your mouth parted and you let out a sharp breath.

"Hannie..." you mewled when the swirling of his tongue shifted into figure eight motions around your clit, gaining some speed as he kept his eyes on your face.

He groaned when your grip on his hair tightened in response to the pleasure blooming inside you again. No touching, he appeared to be telling you as his hand grabbed yours, removing it from his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, keeping your hand laced with his on top of your tummy.

"Fuck, Hannie, keep doing that please," you mumbled, sighing a moan at the same time you tried to keep yourself focused on the relentless motion of the pointed tip of his tongue.

Jeonghan released your hand when your thighs framing his head started to shake slightly, your moans increasing, sounding nearly sinful. You closed your eyes, feeling the touch of his hands exploring your body, caressing your skin, your tummy and your breasts, cupping them.

"Oh, Jeonghan..." you moaned, tipping your head back as a sweet wave of pleasure flooded inside your body, causing it to writhe slightly on the table.

But you felt his hands on your hips holding you down as you continued to call out his name, chest heaving with your sharp breaths.

Ignoring his rule again, you caressed his hair, brushing it back in an attempt to pull him back. But instead he just grounded his mouth in your pussy, simulating open kisses on your entrance, between your lips and on your clit.

"Jeonghan... sensitive," you flinched abruptly when his lips latched onto your clit, a series of loud smacking sounds coming from his mouth as he teased your engorged bud, releasing moans as he did so.

"Mm," he responded, looking at you again before detaching his mouth from your pussy.

You were embarrassingly breathless from coming so hard, legs trembling and you could feel the wetness dripping from between your legs onto the table.

"I... want—can I suck you off?" you asked, emboldened by the desire to make your boyfriend watch. But still, a tingling and warm rush of blood swarmed all over your face and neck.

Jeonghan rose from the floor, looking at you with an impassive expression on his face. Almost as if he didn't know what to do next, or if he wanted to do many things at once but couldn't decide.

He grabbed you by your hands, helping you sit up on the table to then plant a hard kiss on your lips, making you get a taste of yourself on his tongue when it swept inside your mouth.

"Get on your knees, princess," he instructed with a light tone, running the back of his fingers on your cheek.

Jeonghan turned away as you lowered yourself from the table, watching him get rid of the rest of his clothes in a near methodical way. Straight to the point, not putting on a show, or letting you have your fun by undressing him.

So you kept watching him as he threw his clothes to one side with little care as to where they landed, discarding his shorts, and underwear, until he was completely naked and in front of you. The only two things he carried on his body now were on his wrists: your scrunchie and his watch.

"I want you here," he pointed to a spot in front of the bed, straight across from where Joshua was sitting.

You swallowed hard before sinking down onto your knees on the cold marble floor. Waiting, your eyes rose and fell on his tall frame, his nakedness. His milky white skin, his strong thighs, there was a beauty on how unapologetically he was displaying his body to you.

"You're beautiful," you whispered abruptly, having your heart crushed over how the words flew out of your mouth.

Jeonghan was shy whenever someone complimented him, but now he just seemed to be amused, as if he enjoyed being showered with your praise.

"Give me your hand," he offered you his palms before you could come out of your daze and placed your hands on his so he could indicate where you could touch him.

He then took your hand and placed them on his hip. "Leave it here. You can tap me if you want to stop, got it?"

You nodded, looking up at him and when your eyes met with his, you felt a deep sense of nervousness. It had been a while since you felt this during sex, and you realized with a flashing pain crossing your chest, that beyond the lust and desire for him, you felt something else.

His hand caressed your cheek before running his fingers through your hair. "Go ahead, princess. I'm yours," he muttered, and you noticed in the slight quiver in his tone that he was nervous and eager too.

You darted a look sideways, finding Joshua in the same position, much as if time had stopped for him the minute you and Jeonghan kissed. He bore the same look of lust in his eyes, the same dark determined look he wore whenever he was on a mission.

You ran your tongue between your lips once, driving all of your attention to the man standing before you now. He gave you a confident look, silently telling you that you were doing well and in that moment, it was all you needed.

Tentatively, your fingers trailed a line from his lower abdomen, a soft smile drawing on your face when you realized that he was hairy when your fingertip raked between the soft pubic hair.

"Don't tease me like this, princess," Jeonghan giggled after your fingers caused him to flinch slightly.

"Sorry," you breathed. But your fingers encircled around his long and pretty cock. It was so hard that you didn't need to stroke it beforehand, the pink tip already dripping with precum.

You pressed your lips on the underside of his cock, making a trail of feathery and wet kisses until you reached his tip, licking your lips to taste his precum with a hum. "You have a pretty cock," you muttered softly, almost sounding dazedly.

Jeonghan smiled, the sound making you break out of your trance. The hand cradling your hair moved, his thumb caressing one of your temples.

Holding his gaze, you opened your mouth and took his cockhead in, licking him first as you would a lolly, the tip first. Jeonghan's hand came to join the other, gathering your hair gently, his fingertips grazing on your scalp briefly.

You felt a rush of adrenaline and arousal as you watched Jeonghan's face relax, his mouth going slack as you slowly took his cock in your mouth, sucking his head eagerly now, trying to get more reactions from him.

"Oh," he uttered ever so gently, his voice dropping to a rasp.

You tried to explore him to the best of your capacity, tongue swirling around the pink head of his cock every time you moved your mouth back on him, taking him deeper when you pushed his cock until your lips reached your fist still placed by his hilt.

"God," you heard him gasp, his fingers clenching around the strands of your hair.

A shudder coursed through your body, making you raise your eyes to find his face riddled with pleasure, he threw his head back and now you could see his pretty neck, his throat moving as he moaned in pleasure.

The sound made your core flutter, it sounded so raw and sweet that you were instantly fascinated by it, eliciting a mewling sound from you. Hollowing your cheeks out as you moved your head back, to suck on his cock pressing your tongue around the head before going forward again, repeating the movement, faster.

"Stop, stop," he whispered, his hand slipping from your hair and grabbing your chin. "I'm close, princess."

You took a big gulp of air when Jeonghan pulled out of your mouth, drool dripping down your lower lip. "I want to keep going," you mumbled.

"Sure, baby?" he asked, the lines between his eyebrows showing ever so slightly.

"I'm sure," you nodded, leaning close to him so you could take him into your mouth again, darting a look to his face and then to his cock in front of you. "Use my mouth, please. I want you to fuck my mouth, Jeonghan."

The satisfying feeling you got from his eyes widening slightly at your words was something you were quickly growing an obsession with.

Before he could nod with his head, his eyes scanned your face swiftly. "Okay," he mouthed, his hands reuniting with your head, gathering your hair between his fingers.

Your mouth fell open for him, eyes trained on his face.

"Hands on me, baby," he rasped, a hand grabbing his cock as he guided it inside your parted lips, pushing it with his hips slowly as your fingers dug on the skin of his hips.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, eyelids fluttering uncontrollably as his long cock slid on your tongue, reaching the back of your mouth tentatively, thrusting slowly inside you before picking up a calculated pace.

There was something about holding his gaze as he pushed his cock inside your mouth, and you could see that it had the same effect on him as it did to yourself. It was near maddening, a frenzied rush coursed through your body, resolving you to keep yourself focused on him.

"Fuck, you're good at this," he muttered with a strain on his voice as he thrusted deep inside you, making you gag as you relaxed your throat for him to fuck, making him moan deliriously. "So fucking good," he whispered.

Your core throbbed at the sound of his words, you would've moaned if you weren't intent on deepthroating him without gagging. But tears were starting to gather on the corners of your eyes, your mouth had relaxed so much for him that you couldn't control the drool dripping onto your chin.

"God," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, shuddering with another delicious moan that rasped on his throat. "Baby, you feel so good."

Your hands encircled his hips, caressing his skin on the process keeping your teary eyes fixed on his face.

"I'm gonna come in your mouth," he gasped, opening his eyes to find your face.

You blinked slowly at him, as if saying "Please do," a thing you learned from your boyfriend on occasions like this.

"Fuck," he whispered shakily, the thrusting of his hips faltering slightly before he pushed deep into your mouth, throwing his head back as ropes of cum spurted from his cock and onto your throat.

Jeonghan moaned, a sound coming one after the other; breathless, raspy until you stopped swallowing his cum, breathing deeply through your nose, determined to look at his face as he came in your mouth.

His face was riddled in pure pleasure, his closed eyelids trembling slightly as he kept his mouth parted, breathing heavily as his hands relaxed on your hair, blindly searching your face to caress your cheeks.

"Fuck," he muttered to the ceiling, but this time it was different.

Jeonghan moved his head forward to find your face with his eyes, his hand cupping your cheek grazed your skin, his thumbs gathering the tears left in your cheekbones.

"Get up," he said, gently pulling out from your mouth and his hands grabbed yours to help you onto your feet. "Are you okay?" he asked once you were face to face with him.

"Mm-mmph," you cooed, nodding with your head in affirmation.

"Okay," he whispered, leaning closer to kiss your lips, slowly locking them with yours, rolling his tongue inside your mouth, moaning gutturally as he got a taste of himself in your tongue.

"Jeonghan..." you whispered.

He grabbed you by the waist as he sat down on the bed, bringing your body with him. Staggering slightly, you pressed one knee at his side, then the other.

"Ride me," Jeonghan muttered suddenly, almost as if in a hurry. His hands came up to cup your jaw lightly. "Come on, baby, sit on me," he whispered in your lips, urging you to move.

You nodded eagerly and pushed his body back on the bed, mouth watering again when you noticed that his cock had grown hard again and you sent him a look.

He must have read the pure awe in your eyes, because he nodded and swallowed hard. "Need to feel you, princess," he mumbled, his hands sliding on your hips, guiding you on top of his body as you moved on the bed to straddle him.

You took his pretty cock in your hand, rolling it over to spread the traces of your saliva and his precum along his shaft. Then, you angled it to your core, his eyes shifting from his cock about to slip inside you and back at your eyes, where they decided to stay as you slowly sat on his cock.

Jeonghan sucked in a breath and his hands gripped your hips tighter. "Don't," he stopped you just as you were going to look at the corner of the room. "Don't look at him. Look at me."

You nodded again in silence and bottomed out on him, your hands anchoring on the sides of his shoulders as you started rolling your hips on him, feeling every inch of his cock slowly. You let out a muffled moan, when you saw Jeonghan's expression change, his eyebrows knitted slightly and his mouth parted.

"Fuck," he groaned, sending his gaze to the ceiling. "Fuck. You're... a dream, princess. That's it, ride me, baby."

You had started to take a little speed, the sway of your hips gaining more control on his cock, bouncing on him to get closer to what your body desperately wanted. You wanted to come, to make him come, to watch him come undone under you.

"Jeonghan..." you breathed, feeling hot in the face because you could feel your boyfriend's eyes on you. "Am I doing it right?"

"Don't stop," he grunted, sucking in a breath through his pink lips, and shut his eyes for a moment.

Joshua had spread his legs, rubbing a hand over his clothed cock. His eyes were on you, just like you had wished for. A hot wave of shame and lust ran from your face to your cunt when you saw how hard your boyfriend was just from seeing you fuck someone else.

A slap came down your thigh, hard. "Fuck!" you yelped, hips stuttering sloppily.

"I told you not to look at him, princess," he tutted.

"'m sorry," you mumbled shamefully.

"Sorry won't cut it," he growled: "Faster."

You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, your hands finding his shoulders to anchor yourself on as you started rolling your hips faster on him. You moaned uncontrollably when you felt his cock hit in your walls deliciously each time you sank back in.

You kept that pace, that motion of your hips because you could feel the sweet pleasure building inside you, taking you closer to your release and the realization of cumming like this hit you, because you've never made yourself come like this, not even with Joshua.

"Je-jeonghan," you stammered, breathless, whimpering. "Fuck, fuck, oh god..."

You screwed your eyes shut, not allowing your body to grow tired and your hips buckled a little before you sank back on his cock, forcefully, letting out a cry as the tension in your body snapped, making you come hard on top of him.

"Jeonghan!" you gasped, opening your eyes to find his. His mouth had parted and his hands were kneading at your thighs, as if trying with all his might not to come with you.

"Look at you," Jeonghan cooed with a sigh, the fascination in his voice and written in his eyes was undeniable now. "Oh, princess, you're making a mess on me."

"Mmn?" you looked down where your bodies connected, without stopping swaying your hips on him. The base of his cock glistened wet with your arousal, his skin and pubic hair had a faint string of your cream smeared all over.

"You're doing great, baby," Jeonghan said softly, his fingers pinching your chin. "Didn't think you'd be this filthy. But it was expected of you, right?"

"'m not filthy," you slurred out, bouncing sloppily to keep your eyes on the mess you made. It was strangely alluring.

Jeonghan smiled, the sigh coming from him made you tear your eyes from the base of his cock and look at his face. "Are you sure, baby?Only a filthy girl can get herself off from this."

Your walls fluttered around his cock from hearing him talk down to you like that, you gave him a slow nod.

And then, without thinking, you looked at Joshua. He had lost his briefs, his head leaned back against the headrest, you saw his throat bob slightly, his darkened eyes set on you as his fist pumped his cock slowly.

Your whole body burned in response, drawing out a whiny moan and your brows knitted uncontrollably. A firm slap landed on your thigh, making you shut your eyes and cry out.

"Fuck, fuck! I'm sorry," you mumbled. "Sorry."

"You're being stubborn," he rasped, reaching out with one hand to grab your neck and pulling you closer so you brushed against his chest with your tits. "I never told you to stop."

"Sorry," you whispered nervously, your face so close to his that you felt his breath on your lips.

You moved your hips again, sinking on his cock sloppily.

"D'you like this, princess?" he whispered, looking at your eyes, then your lips. "Do you like that your boyfriend just watched you come on my cock, not his?"

"Yeah," you croaked. "I want more."

A corner of his mouth curled up, his hands came down from your neck to grip your ass and he stopped you completely, his cock slipping out of your sopping walls.

"Wh-what did–,"

"Get on all fours," Jeonghan instructed before kissing you chastely.

You stilled, searching his eyes impatiently. But he looked back at you, lust blown eyes, his mouth sporting a devilish grin.

"Go on," he urged, patting your thigh with his hand.

You planted your hands on his chest to help yourself onto your knees, and crawled to the middle of the large bed, getting on all fours for him as he followed behind you.

"God, you have the prettiest ass," you heard him say as a hand caressed your butt. "Should we make it prettier, princess?" he mused.

"Uh?" you uttered confusedly.

Then his fingers toyed with the plug inside you, and you instantly moaned. "Do you think you're ready for the bigger one?" Jeonghan asked and then you saw from the corner of your eye, his hand reaching out for the bottle of lube.

"Ye-yeah, I'm ready," you stammered shamefully, you threw a look in front you, finding your boyfriend watching you intently, making you drop your gaze to the duvet swiftly.

"Mmn," he hummed as his fingers plucked the plug out. "Breathe in, princess," he directed gently as you heard the spurts coming from the bottle of lube, then you felt the cold liquid on the pads of his fingers as he spread your hole open for the next plug.

"Breathe out," he muttered.

"Oh," you blinked rapidly as you felt the longer plug inside you, penetrating you even deeper than the first one.

"Okay?" Jeonghan asked, a hand caressing your lower back, waiting for your response.

"Okay," you replied.

Moving your body back, you sneaked a look to Joshua again as you crawled on the bed to then feel Jeonghan's hands yank you from your hips, forcing you to face your boyfriend, ass angled to his best friend.

"You'll get what you want," Jeonghan cooed, his hand sliding on your lower back, then you felt his cockhead gliding up and down your folds. "One spank if you close your eyes or look away from him."

Joshua nodded, making clear his participation in the punishment. Without tearing his eyes from your face he kept stroking his cock, the lower lip trapped behind his teeth smirked slightly when Jeonghan sheathed his cock inside your walls again, eliciting a raw moan from you.

Jeonghan immediately started pushing his hips so hard you could feel his hip bones meet your ass, the slap beginning to sting a little as he quite literally pounded on you, his cock hitting a glorious spot repeatedly, drawing pathetic moans out of you.

You realized that you had never seen Joshua touch himself like this. He blinked slowly at you, suppressing a small shudder, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he gritted his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that he was trying hard not to come, and you nearly smiled at that.

But you couldn't deny that you felt a deep shame washing over your face from being fucked hard by someone else while your boyfriend simply watched. Watched your body bouncing as Jeonghan's hips jackhammered into you, not slowing down or shifting position, just fucking into your glorious spot relentlessly, releasing small grunts every time you moaned.

Joshua looked at your face the whole time, probably noticing the shame painted in your hot cheeks. The small smile crowning his lips told you that much.

You couldn't. You had to look away from him.

"Spank."

Your heart skipped a beat just as Jeonghan delivered a firm spank in your buttcheek. "Fuck," you squeezed your eyes shut and blinked repeatedly, tears gathering in your eyes.

"Fuck!" Jeonghan also gasped when your walls squeezed around him. "You like being spanked, princess?"

Joshua smiled cruelly.

Jeonghan's hands grabbed your hips forcefully before changing the pace in his thrusts, plowing on you, angling his cock so that you felt him hitting you deeper.

"Sorry princess, what was that?" he grunted, a half gasp that could almost resemble a laugh.

You could only moan in response when you saw your boyfriend's cock glistening in precum, just as his hand rolled over the rosy brown cockhead to smear his own slick all over. Joshua muffled a low raspy groan, blinking slowly at you, unable to look away from your fucked out form.

"Are you fucked stupid, baby?" Jeonghan asked after you gave him no actual response.

"Spank," Joshua muttered again, his voice low and raspy.

"But I didn't look away," you whimpered in protest just as you received another firm slap in your already tingling buttcheek. "Gah, fuck, Hannie–"

"Fuck, princess," Jeonghan moaned deliriously, oblivious to your protest. "If you keep squeezing me like that, I might not last long."

"Hannie, please, I didn't–," you started to plead and got from the glint in your boyfriend's eyes that this is exactly what he wanted.

Joshua wanted to hear you beg, he wanted to see you being punished.

"Spank," Joshua's merciless smile crowned his red lips and his head tipped back as he pumped his cock faster. His thighs tensed and you saw him swallow thickly, he was close, but kept resisting his climax.

"Fuck!" you yelped when Jeonghan's hand came down on your buttcheek, your walls fluttering around him, and your arms nearly give out from the flashing pain.

Jeonghan groaned, a low sound coming from him, something you didn't think you would hear from him. "Fuck, I'm close princess," he sighed, words caught in a slurry mess: "Want me to pull out?"

You were close too, you were growing a bit sore from the relentless pounding, the tip of his cock abusing the sensitive spot inside your walls to the point you knew you were about to wet yourself soon if he just kept going.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, but you kept them fixed on your boyfriend's eyes, on the movement of his hand. It was then that you realized that he was matching the speed of his hand to the thrusts plowing on you.

"Baby, answer him," Joshua urged, his pierced eyebrow twitched slightly.

"No, please!" you gasped. "P-please come inside me," you made a motion to turn to look over your shoulder.

"Spank," your boyfriend's voice betrayed you again with a sigh which resembled a faint laugh.

This spank was firmer than the others before it. You squeezed your eyes shut, the pain sizzling beneath your skin and you saw red, your cunt squeezing around him and you knew you were so close to your own release.

"Fuck-k," you heard Jeonghan breathe out, and then. "Cumming," he muttered before the pace of his thrusts slowed down, fucking you sloppily as he emptied himself inside you with a raspy moan.

Joshua was grinning, the tip of his tongue ran over his lower lip before sinking his teeth, his head tilted back, looking at you with lascivious eyes before spurts of cum landed on the back of his hand, on his lower abdomen and chest. Your boyfriend let out a long groan that joined with your moans.

Both men were breathing slowly and ragged, Jeonghan's hands remained on your hips, keeping you steady as you trembled uncontrollably on the bed.

"Clean him off, princess," Jeonghan instructed, patting you in your butt gently, egging you to do it quickly.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, a question written in your eyes.

Jeonghan was covered in a sheen film of sweat, from his forehead to his collarbones. His dark bangs sticking on his forehead as he breathed hard from the exhaustion, his tongue hanging on his lower lip languidly.

"Come here, bunny," Joshua called, and you turned to him, sitting in the armchair still, just at arm's length from you.

You whimpered slightly when Jeonghan pulled out of your walls, but you crawled to the edge of the bed towards your boyfriend, who cupped your cheek with his clean hand as soon as you were near enough for him to touch you.

"You're being so good, baby," he muttered, his thumb brushing your lower lip just before you bent your head and licked the cum off the back of his hand that was resting on top of his crotch.

Joshua's mouth parted and he lifted his fingers for you to suck on, licking them clean. His eyebrow twitched slightly when you moved your mouth to his lower abdomen. Running your tongue on his skin, you licked to the last bead of his cum.

"Good girl," Jeonghan muttered behind you.

"Mmn, but baby you're making a mess," Joshua said in a honeyed purr, making you turn to see your thigh.

Joshua's hand came down to your thigh, his fingers stopping the cum trailing down, picking it up and inserting it back to your fluttering cunt.

"Can't let it go to waste, huh?" your boyfriend smiled when you moaned as his fingers teased your slit, pushing the cum dripping out of you.

"Babe, I–," you started pleading when he pulled his fingers out of you, you needed to come.

But he stuck his fingers in your mouth quite abruptly, you tasted Jeonghan's cum, mixed with your own arousal. "Mmn, I think princess wants more," Joshua purred, a fascinated look in his dark eyes. "You were close, right baby? He didn't let you cum again."

You shook your head in affirmation, trying your best to give him an innocent look. "Mm-mmn," you hummed, making him grin at you.

You heard a sharp exhale behind you and felt the bed shifted under you. "Princess, you came three times already," you heard Jeonghan say. "What more can you take?"

Joshua's pierced eyebrow quirked up slightly. "Shall we test that, baby?"

His thumb brushed your lower lip as he pulled it out of your mouth softly, his grin widening when you nodded with your head eagerly.

"How are you?" your boyfriend asked, his tone dropping slightly as his eyes surveyed your face. "Are you okay?"

You nodded with your head once, lifting your eyes to meet his. "I want you now, Joshua," you mewled with a breathy tone.

Joshua looked at you briefly before a smirk crowned his beautiful lips. "Come here," he pointed at the spot in front of him, so you climbed down from the bed just as he rose from the armchair.

You followed his face with your eyes as he was now looking down to meet your gaze.

"Are you ready, baby?" he asked, reading your face with his big brown eyes.

You nodded, and then added with more certainty. "I am."

Then he instructed you to place both knees right at the edge of the bed, ass up and pointed at him. On all fours, you were looking directly at Jeonghan, lying in the pillows, blinking slowly as if he were drifting still.

His post-sex gaze found you, making your stomach clench as you noticed something else in his eyes too.

"Mmn baby, you're all red," Joshua murmured sweetly but mockingly, rubbing the sore areas of your ass with his hands. "Jeonghan doesn't know how much you enjoy being pampered."

"Mm-mmph," you hummed, shuddering under the softness of the caress, your boyfriend was now exhibiting how well he knew you, and how blind Jeonghan was to your preferences.

"Are you enjoying this, baby?" Joshua asked as his fingers toyed with the plug lodged in your ass. "Do you like that Hannie is getting to know how needy you really are?"

"Yeah, I do, Josh," you replied, voice dropping to a whimper the plug was slowly plucked out of you.

Jeonghan smiled, his teeth sliding on top of his lower lip as he watched you subdue yourself to your boyfriend.

"But Hannie probably knew already," Joshua muttered. "He also got to read the filthy things you write, right?"

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes wandered from you to your boyfriend behind you.

"Bunny, you're dripping," Joshua sighed, the pads of his fingers gingerly traveling from your clit, picking the slick and cum dripping down from your hole and pushing it back up. "My baby is so messy."

You sighed a moan when his fingers dipped in your fluttering core, feeling your boyfriend's touch, familiar instead of explorative, made you even more aroused.

"So he probably knows that you want both of us," Joshua continued with his musings, but this made you frown slightly, your heart twisting in your chest.

You turned your head to find your boyfriend, he cocked his blond head to one side, reading your expresion.

"Isn't that right, bunny?" he inquired, the corner of his mouth stretching in a grin. "You want us inside you at the same time."

"Ye-yeah, that's what I want, Josh," you stammered dumbly.

"I'd assumed as much," Jeonghan admitted, when you looked back at him you swore you saw the same wolfish grin on his face as your boyfriend's.

"You're gonna be good for us, baby?" Joshua purred as his lubed fingers prodded on your hole gingerly at first, stretching it more.

"Yeah," you whined, closing your eyes to savor the feeling.

"Breathe, baby," your boyfriend reminded you, spreading his fingers, keeping you open for him.

You inhaled through your nose, moaning as you exhaled.

But you needed to see your boyfriend standing behind you, you understood from the movement of his right arm that he was stroking himself, lubing his cock for you. The dark and lustful gaze he kept on you made your body burn with anticipation, making you angle your ass for him.

"Good girl," Joshua breathed before pressing the tip of his cock on your hole, his eyes shifting from your ass to your face, his eyebrows knitting at the same time you did.

"Josh... mn," you mewled, looking his mouth fall open as he eased himself inside you, ever so slowly and carefully.

"Alright?" he breathed, unable to bring his tone any louder.

You gave him rapid nods with your head. "Yes, yes," you mumbled.

His eyes remained on the features of your face for a second before shifting them to his fingers spreading you open for him, a hand reached out to pump more lube onto his palm. A low hiss escaped between his teeth as he coated the remaining half of his cock to ease himself inside you, thrusting shallowly.

It was hard to breathe, you couldn't move. You focused all of your energy to remain lax for him as he eased the first half of his cock inside your tight hole.

But everything inside you became alight with sweet pleasure. You dropped your head forward, enjoying the feeling coursing beneath your skin, keeping your lower lip trapped between your teeth, but muffled mewling sounds resounded in your throat.

You sneaked a look at the man in front of you. Jeonghan was lying on his side, elbow propped on the pillows as he looked at you and your boyfriend. His heavy lidded eyes kept switching between Joshua's face and then to yours, a hand idly stroking his cock.

"Baby," he muttered, a strain to his voice, and when you turned you saw it showing on his clenched jaws as he tilted his head back, moving his hips at a slow pace. "Are you okay? Can I give you more?"

"Yes, I'm okay," you replied, a hot wave washing over your face. "I want more."

"Okay," he sighed deeply, his hands now palming your ass as he thrusted his hips forward, easing another inch inside you.

"Oh god," you shut your eyes. "Please, move, Josh..."

"I don't want to hurt you," he replied in a breathless tone. "I need you to relax, baby. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, focusing on what your body felt, crying out, welcoming the pleasure, the slow and shallow thrusts of Joshua's hips, his cock pushing in and out of you, making him moan.

You knew your boyfriend could hang. He came once already so it would probably take him more time to come again. But something in the way that he was moaning let you know that it might be different this time.

"Fuck, so tight," he sighed in pleasure, his hands palming your ass, caressing your skin as if to soothe your moans. "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't stop. Please, Joshua," you replied instantly, your fingers clenching on the bed covers, holding on tightly.

"Do you think you're ready for Jeonghan?" he asked with a slight urgency to his tone.

"Yeah," you breathed out, looking at your best friend and then your boyfriend behind you. "I'm ready."

"Okay," he gasped, the features of his face riddled with pleasure, but he came to a stop once he heard you. Joshua raised a hand and motioned you over to his chest. "Move back, baby. Slowly."

You simply did what he instructed, and wordlessly, Jeonghan moved across the bed, standing next to Joshua now. His hands shifted positions, gripping your hips as you stood back on your knees as he said, so your back pressed against his chest.

The two men exchanged a glance before Joshua moved your body from the bed, Jeonghan's hands sliding on your thighs to help your boyfriend support your body from the front.

"You're okay, baby?" Joshua asked when he heard you let out a small cry.

"Yeah," you replied quickly, now looking at Jeonghan as you used your hands to hold onto his lean shoulders. "Please, more, please."

Joshua kept your thighs angled for the man in front of you, just as he took a hand between his body and yours, grabbing his hard cock to guide it to your cunt, his eyes finding yours as he started to sheathe himself inside your cunt in one go.

Your eyes rolled back, squeezing your eyelids tightly as your head slumped back onto Joshua's shoulder. "F-fuck," you gasped, as Jeonghan eased himself to the hilt, making you fuller than ever.

"Baby," Joshua urged, breathing hot against your neck.

"Move, please, Josh," you cried out, the corners of your eyes spilling some tears.

Without wasting a single second, you felt the two men move in a slow sway, appearing to share one mind again because there were no words exchanged, nothing you could make out before they began a push and pull with your body.

"God," you breathed out, seeing stars behind your closed eyelids. "Josh..."

"You're good, baby," he replied, his voice muffling as he pressed his lips on the crook of your sweaty neck. "You're perfect."

As the two men moved inside you, the rest of your body supported by Joshua's strong arms on your thighs, Jeonghan helping him through as he moved in with shallow thrusts.

You blinked, leaning your head forward, the tip of your nose bumping sloppily against Jeonghan's. You kissed him slowly, eliciting a raw moan from the man, but he reciprocated the kiss, breathing in your mouth when you backed away.

Then you turned your head to your side, Joshua reached for your lips with his own, meeting in a feathery kiss. "Mmn," you hummed into his mouth before leaning your head back onto his shoulder once again. "So full," you whispered in pure bliss, dissolving into a puddle of pleasure.

"I know, baby, I know," Jeonghan mumbled, his voice too, sounding tense.

"So good for us," Joshua whispered, kissing your shoulder.

"Mm-huh," you hummed entrancingly, but your mind had already gone completely blank as you were reduced to breathy moans, tears spilling from your closed eyes, unable to string up thoughts.

Lips kissed your neck, your shoulder, while another set of lips kissed your cheeks, your tears and even your own lips. But slowly you lost awareness of who was who anymore, not even if you would recognize Joshua's lips anywhere, you couldn't do it.

The sway of both men pushing inside you never changed, it never paused, you heard tired gasps and raw moans as they used your body, filling you up to the brim.

Your moans were becoming increasingly louder every time, and whinier. You had never sounded like this, never felt like this before. So full, and taken over by pleasure that there was nothing you could say. You saw lights and colors behind your eyelids and tasted your climax in your mouth, pleasure blooming inside you in fiery waves, taking over you completely.

"I think she's close."

"Are you gonna cum for us, baby?"

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Come, bunny, come for us."

"Oh god," you whimpered before coming undone without any warning, crying out blissfully, your body being overtaken by relentless tremors. Your hands held onto his shoulders, nails digging into skin.

"Fuck," you heard one of the men gasp in response.

The orgasm was so brutal that you felt like collapsing, you felt it everywhere, flooding you from inside, coursing through your whole body, you even felt it on your face, between the tears rolling down your cheeks.

The room was filled with your raw cries of pleasure, and low moans and gasps from the men holding your spasming body while you clenched around them, triggering their own orgasms, stuffing you up with their cum. One had propped his forehead on one of your shoulders, while the other was breathing hard on the curve of your neck, while grazing your skin with his lips.

"Fuck, baby," one gasped languidly, fingers digging on the plush of your thighs.

Both men had stopped pushing inside you, but kept holding you as you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Baby?" the same voice asked.

"She's out of it," the other said knowingly. "Give her a moment."

"Let's lay her down."

A weak cry spilled from you when Joshua pulled out of you, even if he did it with care, you felt the sudden loss of him inside you. Followed by that Jeonghan pulled out of you. Next thing you knew, your trembling thighs were wet but before you knew it, your limp body was quickly laid on the bed.

"Easy," you heard him whisper soothingly. "Eaasy, baby."

"I got a towel and I already started a bath."

"Thank you," a hand brushed some hairs from your face. "I'm gonna clean you up, bunny."

"Okay," you mumbled, opening your eyes to see Joshua sitting beside you, carefully pressing a wet hand towel on your thighs, cleaning up the cum that had dripped down from you.

"Hi there, baby," Joshua smiled at you. "How are you? Okay?"

"Amazing," you replied with a slurry tone.

"Tsk," you heard Jeonghan click his tongue with amusement before announcing: "Bath is ready, princess."

"Come on," Joshua nodded his head back to the bathroom door. "I'll take you there."

"I can do it," you protested, starting to prop yourself onto your elbows.

"You don't have to," he retorted, already getting on his feet to lift your body from the bed, cradling you on his strong arms to lower you gently into the warm water of the tub.

"Thank you, babe," you mumbled sweetly.

Jeonghan was already in the shower, its glass walls letting you know that he was sending you glances to check up on you.

"Are you hungry, baby? Do you want me to order something?" Joshua asked as he knelt before you. "Waffles? Fries? Strawberry milkshakes?"

The crushing love and adoration you felt for him was beyond anything your languid body could handle at that moment. You smiled and nodded lazily.

"Everything I just said?" his eyebrows pushed up, and his beautiful lips were crowned with a smile, making his dimples above his lips show.

"Can it be chocolate now?"

"Of course, baby," he smiled endearingly at you. "Do you need help?"

"I got it, Josh," you replied. "Thank you."

"Okay," he whispered, giving you one look before he got up, as Jeonghan was stepping out of the shower and was now being occupied by your boyfriend.

"You're okay there, princess?" Jeonghan asked as he patted his face and neck with the towel.

"Yeah. A bit sore but I'm okay," you replied, watching his fully naked body as he wiped the droplets of water sticking onto his skin. You pretended to busy yourself, subbing your soapy hands onto your inner thighs.

Jeonghan sat down on the rim of the tub, at arm's length from you so he only stretched out to boop your nose with the tip of his finger. You looked at him startled for a second.

But he smiled, in fact, a breathy chuckle left him as he saw your face.

"What?" you asked, blinking confusedly at him.

"You're cute," he replied nonchalantly, resuming to wipe himself down.

You said nothing, in fact, you felt like you didn't have the brain capacity to process why you felt so confused at the moment. You simply pulled the drain stopper with your foot, the warm water scurrying down quickly.

"Help me up?" you extended a hand at him.

"Sure you can walk?" Jeonghan smirked, casting a look over his shoulder.

Joshua was coming out of the shower, draping his lower half with a towel as he kept an eye on you. "I'll do it," he offered and bent forward to get you up, lifting you up in his arms again.

Jeonghan got another towel for you, which he extended on the bed as Joshua set down on it neatly.

"You guys make a great team," you noted aloud finally, looking at both men standing before you.

They both exchanged a quick look, Joshua only nodded nonchalantly, Jeonghan smirked at your words. "We know, princess."

After that, Joshua ordered room service for everyone and you all waited with the TV on. You were blissfully dozing on the bed, aloof to anything that happened around you until you were woken up by your boyfriend telling you the food was here.

You ate in silence, barely able to keep your eyes open but the only thing keeping you up and running was your growling stomach.

"It's time for me to go back," Jeonghan announced, rising up to his feet.

The meals were done and you could barely hold your head up from the slumber and tiredness taking over you.

"You stay."

Both men jerked their heads upon hearing you say that, both looked confused, much as if they weren't expecting you say that.

"Please?" you raised your eyes to look at him. "I want you to stay."

"If Joshuji has no issue with it," Jeonghan shrugged, casting a glance at your boyfriend.

"Yeah, no problem," Joshua responded, but his brow was slightly furrowed.

You giddily crawled on the bed, slumping down on the pillows face down. Joshua quickly occupied a place by your side, cupping cheek with one hand to press a loving kiss on your forehead.

"Sure you're okay, baby?" he asked, scanning your face and your body inquisitively.

"I'll be fine, Josh," you rolled your eyes but a small giggle spilled from your lips.

"Mkay," he replied, pressing his lips in a tight smile.

Jeonghan however, slid onto the large bed with some reluctance, occupying your other side. You shifted your body so you could look at him, an arm tucked beneath his head.

He felt your gaze before he could turn and look at you. "What?"

"You owe me a scrunchie."

Jeonghan closed his eyes slowly, a sly smile appearing on his face. "No, I don't," he mumbled. "Go to sleep."

"You first," you replied in the same fashion.

A heavy arm hugged you from behind. Joshua cuddled his body against yours, pressing a kiss on your hair. "Go to sleep, baby," he said, smiling softly on your cheek before littering it with kisses.

Like a work of magic, you were gently swept away by a very heavy slumber.

You felt like hours had passed since you shut your eyes until something pulled you from your dream. You turned in the bed, following the faint sounds of Joshua snoring softly beside you. He was sleeping in an odd position, and you realized the pillow had moved and was about to fall onto the floor.

You reached out for it, carefully placing it beside his head.

"Joshua," you whispered, trying not to wake the other man lying on the other side of the bed beside you. "Babe, use your pillow."

"Mm?" Joshua lazily pushed his eyebrows up, opening his eyes slightly.

"Baby, use your pillow. You were snoring," you smiled softly, feeling something tug in your insides.

He just looked so cute, pouting his lips as he nodded. "'m sorry," he mumbled and placed his head on the pillow before continuing on his deep sleep.

You laid back on the bed and curiously eyed Jeonghan, who had his eyes open and focused on you.

"Did I wake you?" you asked shyly.

"No," he whispered. "I can't sleep," he explained briefly.

"Oh. Same," you sighed a smile, your heart skipping a beat over the sense of familiarity you felt whenever you were reminded that Jeonghan is just a bad sleeper as you are.

There was a restlessness in his gaze as the man that you had come to call a best friend swallowed thickly. A lithe hand came to your face and grazed his knuckles on your cheek.

His touch startled you at first, but you welcomed it, leaning your cheek against his touch.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly.

"'s okay, Jeongjeong," you replied with a small smile. "Are you okay, though? This might have been too much."

"I'm okay, princess," he mumbled with ease, but his gaze remained shifty.

"Sure?" you mouthed, his eyes were on your lips already, so he nodded.

The moment grew quieter, Jeonghan removed his hand from your cheek, licking his lips as he appeared to be considering something inside his head.

"Stay still," he whispered.

You held in a breath, closing your eyes when his face moved closer to yours, and waited.

His lips grazed yours, capturing them ever so slowly, giving you a tender kiss that made a small grunt bubble in his chest.

Your hand cupped his cheek, diving for a deeper kiss, feeling his tongue on yours. His palm pressed against the back of your hand, his fingers encircling it briefly before pulling his head back.

"Did you... like it?" he asked, seeming to be curious as well. "Was it what you wanted?"

"You know I liked it, Jeongjeong," you smiled slowly at him, waiting for his smile.

But no, Jeonghan didn't smile, in fact, he didn't seem to be relaxing.

"Did you?" you asked shyly, your eyes trailing down to his mouth and then his eyes.

"Yeah, I did. I liked it," he mumbled sleepily.

"We should do it again sometime. Us three," you put in quickly and then looked away at the ceiling, feeling ashamed.

"You don't think your boyfriend will say no?" he mused, his voice merely a whisper.

"Why? I mean, I don't think so," you frowned, then added. "It's just sex, right?"

It grew quiet, so quiet that you barely couldn't hear Joshua's deep breathing. Jeonghan's eyes scanned your face again, but the restlessness only grew into something you couldn't quite place. His gaze darkened, and his lips tensed into a line.

"Right?" you asked again, your eyes reading his face, but you couldn't understand what you had said wrong.

Jeonghan sat up in the bed slowly and rose, throwing his hoodie and then putting his sweatpants on, he didn't look back at you.

"Jeonghan?" you called, sitting up in the bed when he crossed the room, walking out the door without saying a word.

You sat there, eyes fixated on the hotel room's door, hesitating on what to do. Your heart was beating frantically against your throat.

"Leave him be," Joshua mumbled sweetly behind you.

"Did you hear all that?" you asked, but didn't need an answer. You knew he did.

"I think Jeongjeong might have a crush on you, baby," he ran a hand on your back, his fingers caressing your bare skin lovingly.

"He doesn't," you brushed off. "He's just..." you stopped short of words.

"It's okay, baby," he whispered. "I don't mind if he does."

"But he's your friend!" you whispered.

"Our friend," he corrected. "So?"

"So, I don't want to hurt him," you mumbled awkwardly.

"Why would you?" he frowned.

"I'm with you, Joshua," you rolled your eyes annoyingly. "I can't be giving him false hope."

"Baby, you don't have to," he smiled, looking fondly at you.

"Are you actually saying what I think you're saying?" you asked dumbfoundedly.

Joshua appeared to be pensive for a second, and shrugged slightly. "I mean, he's been there for you this whole time," his tone was sweet, but cautious. "And you had grown really close, it would make sense that he feels something for you."

You stared at your boyfriend in utter bewilderment, but something more alarming made you think. Did you feel something for Jeonghan?

"I never... we never did anything or said anything," you whispered with a slight frown of confusion.

Joshua's smile reached his eyes. "I know, baby. That's not what I'm saying," he said and sat up in the bed and gently placed a finger under your chin. "Do you feel something for him, baby?"

"No. I don't know," you whispered, feeling your heart deflate painfully in your chest upon uttering those words. "I love you, Joshua."

"I know, that's not what I'm asking," he smiled slightly. "I'm just saying that it's not entirely wrong to have feelings for someone who's been there for you. Even if that someone happens to be my best friend."

Your breath hitched and took his hand that was holding your chin. "Should I go talk to him?" you whispered.

"If you want to," he replied in the same manner. "I think he needs time right now... and you do too."

Your eyebrows knitted, breathing was hard, the pain in your chest becoming worse. "What?"

"I think you feel something for him, baby," he whispered, pressing his fingers on your chin.

"I don't," you muttered, but your eyes had started to water.

"Are you sure?" he asked, frowning slightly. "Baby, I know you. I've seen the way you look at him."

You choked back a sob and immediately denied shaking your head. "I'd never do something like that to you."

"Baby, listen to me," he muttered, his hand cupping your chin tensed slightly, commanding your eyes on him. "I am not judging you. I just need the truth."

Taking a few deep breaths, almost sobbing as your mind spun over the situation. You knew you couldn't deny it to Joshua or to yourself any longer.

"Maybe I do feel something for Jeonghan," you confessed, the realization making your breath hitch.

Nothing could have prepared you for his reaction.

Joshua recoiled, as if he had suddenly been slapped, then blinked rapidly, his big brown eyes dimming a little. You knew his feelings were hurt and you immediately wanted to take it back, to pause your whole life and reevaluate what you were actually saying to him.

"It's okay," he breathed, sushing you when you couldn't contain your tears anymore and started to cry. "It's okay, baby. It is. I understand."

"Wait, please, please," you mumbled, grabbing his arm with one hand as you tried to steady yourself, becoming light headed over the surge of emotions invading you.

"I'm not going anywhere," he muttered, looking at you with a worried look on his face. "Baby, breathe."

You inhaled deeply, your eyes itching because of the tears that kept on coming. "I'm sorry, Joshua."

"What for?" he whispered, his brow furrowing as he gathered your tears with the back of his fingers. "Don't apologize. Not for that."

"But I feel like I'm hurting you and I don't want to do that," you choked back a sob.

Joshua frowned a little, almost as if he were putting his thoughts together, and laid them out for you slowly: "It was me who told him to get closer to you, because I've been away and we both barely talk, I know you would feel lonely and I didn't want that for you."

"But this isn't your fault."

"It's no one's fault," he shook his head slightly. "There's nothing to blame here."

You looked at him, trying to decipher what was going on in his mind. "What are you saying?"

"Jeonghan and I are very similar," he said with an empty smile. "It doesn't seem strange to me that he grew feelings for you. You're fun, smart, beautiful."

Joshua said this with a vague expression on his face, almost as if he were putting the pieces inside his brain, as he himself was realizing how he felt about the situation. "And by that, I also don't find it strange that you have feelings for him," he decided.

You felt the features of your face relax, but the morose and cold feeling seizing your heart didn't go away. "It's entirely platonic," you said shakily.

That made Joshua smile with a glint of fondness in his eyes. "Baby, I know that you love me," he replied with certainty. "And I know that you having feelings for Jeonghan doesn't affect what is ours."

You read his eyes for a second as you were letting the words sink, you nodded slowly. "I love you, Joshua," you whispered, leaning so that your forehead touched his.

"And I love you, bunny."

✮ yet another long author's note: heyoooo THEY DID IT!!!! THEY CROSSED THAT BRIDGE, JOSHUA OVERCAME HIS POSSESSIVENESS (or did he?) 👀👀👀 as you may or may not know my bias is Jeonghan and my wrecker is Joshua (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) so i am doing this purely to satisfy my brain, but i guess that if you want to indulge with me you are more than welcomed to do so OKAY NOW I NEED TO EXPLAIN AGAIN this is the last part belonging to city lights! take this as the finale! AND THIS IS CANON OKAY yes, i'm sorry for those that didn't want a threesome 😭🫠🫠 NOW LET ME EXPLAIN A FEW THINGS. bunny's story doesn't end here. i decided to make a city lights season two! but i'm going to take a break from writing this fic for a short while and focus on my other projects!! so city lights is going on a short break and will be coming back under a different title!! so be on the lookout for that one! 👀 i hope this explains everything AND I DON'T WANNA SEE ANY OF YOU IN THE COMMENTS SAYING THAT CITY LIGHTS IS OVER OR WHATEVER BECAUSE IT'S NOT TRUE! ᕙ( •̀ᗝ•́)ᕗ sorry i didn't mean to yell at you i love you all! toodles!

buy me a coffee? 🩵👉🏻👈🏻

#peachy.rec #v 🐯#ugh this is award winning #I put it all under the readmore because I had too much to say #here it would all be keyboard smashes and spoilers #but your brain is the most beautiful thing ever #I scrap of your talent my love #Joshua rec #Jeonghan rec

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dirtgrubber · 10 months ago

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it feels good. it feels right.

@morningstarwrites thankyou for this weeks chapter. i’m not crying… You’re crying

#OSAS #radioapple #alastor #lucifer #hazbin hotel #my art #of saints and sinners #duckiedeer #this was the most beautiful thing i’ve ever read #star i love you and your amazing brain #thankyou for making it a cloud bench #i can kinda actually draw clouds #better than furniture at least

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fruitsoftart · 2 months ago

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Just finished MADK and hhhhhooouuhhhhhh my god. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I like. Need to study. And also to sleep bc its. 2am. So im writing this so i can hopefully stop feeling like ive just had my entire brain chemically rearranged. (Spoilers)

J not knowing how to escape bc hes embedded himself so deeply in the top among the rigid castes of demonic hierarchy so he grooms a successor to take his place so he can be freed from the constant power struggle in a way that is understood. He like very much reminds me of lestat from itwv actually he wants so so badly to be known that he is willing to drag someone innocent and good into his world and completely corrupt them at the first hint of potential understanding and knowledge altho im not gonna go too too deep into that comparison rn bc im still buzzing off the finale chapter MY GOD. Im gonna throw up. His conversation with his young self (????? I think???) when he admitted he forsook his own identity so he could become anyone bc he was so afraid of being known versus the utter euphoria he experienced when makoto told him he found his name the raw desperation he showed everytime makoto continued his pursuit of jonathans destruction how he continued to push him towards it the many subtle and clear ways he never saw makoto as a person until the very last few moments when he hurt him again.

Makoto going from a young man so desperate to find acceptance and understanding from anyone that he summons a demon to becoming the demon himself… the way he lovingly, carefully preserves the shell of the original body that Jonathan gave him but ALSO “theres not an inch of this body i haven’t tinkered with” IM CRAZY. He consumed the body that jonathan gave him too he made it his own by exploring it to the last inch and customizing it to his standards but ALSO every single inch of his body was dedicated to jonathan like. The werewolf teeth to emulate his master the wild predator looking ass tentacle dick so he could eat jonathan again from the inside out and fill him up with his cock in every way the wings he stole from his brother k the clothing he STILL keeps from when jonathan dressed him oh im going crazy. Im going so crazy.

Also maybe im delusional but the way that jonathan makes what seems like all of his …pets? Successors??? Victims??? Go thru prostitution. Not only is the sex between makoto and fjord so interesting as an expression of how the ugliness of abuse and exploitation can be disguised or softened and how it can come from the people who abuse one’s reliance and trust in them to use one for their own ends but also like. I wonder how much this has to do with Jonathan’s own experiences as a child prostitute? Idk idk i hardly think that jonathan is trying to like, make another him like how makoto wants to groom someone to fill the void jonathan left in him at the end but i cant help but feel that there is something there, like rly every single guy went thru the brothel????? And also jonathans own insistence that the sex was a way to strengthen makoto and inure him to the cruelty of the initialed demon world. Hmmmm. Squints. Very fascinating i feel.

God i also love all the side characters as well, truly like, every single part of this series is so like, gruesomely beautiful???? Its so well written and orchestrated that i wish it was like 90 chapters instead of 19 but there is so much depth to all of these people GOD. But like fjord (maybe) datenshou and maybe kieran the only decent beingd in the entire thing im so happy datenshou had a happy ending agh!!!

Datenshou also being such a clear depiction of abuse and grooming my god. His desperation to be loved the way he was when he was young the mindless obedience of a child who only knew that he was praised when he behaved and couldn’t see further than that and now has to grapple with the fact that the person he loved and the person who raised him didn’t actually love him for that and wasnt as good as he believed….augh. Aughihgjoufhh. Gghyguhg. Letting himself be exploited and raped as “punishment” when he betrayed jonathan because he saw it as his due…he didn’t know any other way to redeem himself… smothering humans in love until they physically cannot be parted from him bc they are so addicted to him and then being so obsessed with jonathan that he literally falls as a initialed demon when he betrays him to makoto….. my god. Oh my god. Im foaming at the mouth.

Also vol 1 makoto so fuckin real for having crazy kinks and being repressed and fucked up abt it enough that he summoned a demon ate his guts and fell in love when he was accepted abt it. I fr cant blame you bro if the most beautiful demon ive ever seen appeared in front of me in hs intertwined our bodies in the most visceral way possible and told me i wasnt a bad person for having evil sexual thoughts i would also have manifested a whole new level of mental illness and obsession.

Also also god the overarching metaphor of cannibalism as love and desire and obession and the visceral way gore and desire is intertwined with jonathan and makoto and the brothel patrons and makoto and kieran and just. Every single interaction. I started madk BECAUSE of the first chapter (dont even get me started on the throat fucking (literal) and the intestine fucking and the organs my god. My god. Madk rly said oh you wanted sick and twisted??? Huh??? And blew it outta the water) and oh my god. The obsession and love and hatred and possession and cruelty and just. Im gonna be thinking abt this for the next year oh my fuck.

#madk #theres so much more but i think i just ran out of steam #anyways #flailing wildly at the madk #suzuri ryo you beautiful genius i want to crawl inside your brain and live there #how does it feel to be the smartest man alive #holy shit bro.#tfw you are twisted into the monstrous thing youve always feared you were #by the most beautiful person youve ever seen #and by the entire time you cant. you cant quite tell if its you or him doing the twisting #through the blood and viscera you cant quite see whose hands are clawing into your intestines #ouhhhh.

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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

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Creative things I did today (this may become a series)

1. Some arts and crafts for pride :D

2. Read a chapter of my book, Girls to the Front by Sara Marcus, which is about riot grrrl and how women revolutionized punk music

3. Wrote a little bit (OFTM-verse: Actors on Actors with reader and Carolina and finding out you’re pregnant with the girls, WYLITD-verse: quickly dialogue and some more plot development) and went through my Graveyard (and found some lost, unhinged OFTM dialogue which you can find under the cut)

4. Learned how to play the first little bit of Like Real People Do on my brothers guitar

I don’t get to be creative every day but today felt especially good and like I got my brain moving!!!

#I also help this inspires people to do something creative today #it’s good for your brain!!#even if it’s just shitty poetry #or dancing alone in your room #creativity is one of the most beautiful things we ever could’ve been given!!#june screams on the internet

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soangelbaby · 1 month ago

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just thinking about newlywed!rafe on ur honeymoon 😣

telling you how much he’s dreamed of making you a mommy—how much he’s imagined you carrying his child. his child. his hand pressed against your belly—skin warm underneath his fingertips as if it’s already there, already real in his head. “you don’t get it,” he grumbles, voice low and rough, almost pleading but there’s also something dangerous underneath. his free hand slides down your side, mapping it out, as if he can already see you full with his baby. “this is supposed to happen—” his lips press against your lips one last time before pulling away to stare into your eyes, looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “we’re gonna have a family—you’re my wife now, that means you can’t ever leave me, you know that?”

and if you try to laugh it off? rafe’s grip on you just tightens, jaw clenching, pupils dilating, “nah baby, don’t do that.” his hands are everywhere—possessive and desperate, almost frantic, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. “you think i’m just talking? fuck no—i mean it, baby.” his lips attack your neck again, trailing soft kisses along your skin, igniting every nerve—imprinting himself onto you. “you’d be so perfect pregnant, we’d have the most beautiful kid ever, i can see it now,” he’d mutter against your skin, pulling you in so close because he can’t stand the slightest amount of distance.

now, he has you pressed into the mattress—face down, ass up, pounding into you from behind, in the back of honeymoon suite. his large hand covering the side of your face, thumb hooked into the side of your mouth, and his own band shining in the dim light of the room. “that’s it, baby—take it like my fucking wife,” rafe grits, hips snapping faster, bed creaking beneath you both. your brain’s gone static, all you can do is feel. the pleasure, the pain, the stretch. it’s too overwhelming, all consuming, but that doesn’t stop him. “you married me, baby—you fucking asked for this.” he spits out, panting as he you over, not even bothering to pull out. one hand now tightly gripping your throat, and his other snatching your left wrist before shoving it down between your legs.

“touch yourself with my ring on—show me how i own you,” rafe groans, pulling back just slightly, gripping the base of his dick as he watches you rub lazy circles over your clit. “shit, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this” he kisses you hard, rocking back into you and grabbing your wrist not daring to let you stop. “my girl, my ring, my pussy.” moaning into your mouth, body pressing heavy on top of you, not giving you a second to breathe or think about anything but him. this is different than before, he’s not just fucking you—he’s claiming you, marking you. every inch, every crevice, every crack, every thought, all his—and he loves it. he loves watching you fall apart for him, loves seeing you so dazed out you couldn’t even tell him your name, but he makes sure you know his. the only word on your tongue, along with messy whimpers, babbles, and moans. little chants of ‘raferaferafe’ ever so often escaped your lips. and he watches it like ritual. every expression, every breath, every tremble—he can’t get enough. he makes sure you know this is permanent now—ring or not, this is forever. you are his forever.

#sosi is talking . . .#sosi the deadly doll ཀ #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe smut #drew mf starkey #drew starkey #my favorite relapse !!#newlywed!rafe #rafe fic #obx rafe cameron

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cleo-fox · 5 months ago

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Safehouse

Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.

A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.

You didn’t expect this mission to go as badly as it has.

It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routine—or at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.

No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.

It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspicious—one moment, it’s slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.

“What the fuck is this?” you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. “I thought you said the radar was clear.”

“It was,” he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that you’d delegated to him because Tony’s brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that you’re looking at a weather map and there’s absolutely no sign of the storm that’s howling around you.

An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.

“We need to find shelter,” says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that he’s pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesn’t want you to know that something’s wrong. Normally, you’d call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesn’t seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.

“There’s a safehouse just west of this hill,” he continues, tapping at the screen.

“Let’s go, then.”

The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. You’re walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesn’t stop you from slipping.

The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin that’s a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, you’re inside.

The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you don’t normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouses—handcrafted furniture that’s a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. It’s…homey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. It’s a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.

Loki bolts the door the moment you’re both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows.

“I’m putting up wards,” he says. There’s a grim set to his jaw that you don’t particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.

The back of your neck prickles.

The wood burning stove is not merely decorative—it’s the cabin’s only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter what—you suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like you’re about to bubble over with questions.

It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once he’s finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.

“So, I take it you can’t just magic that storm away or something,” you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. “And even if it did, this isn’t an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that impression.” You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. “Any idea who?”

He shakes his head. “Someone very ancient. Angry.”

You exhale. “Great. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?”

“We should not look outside after the sun sets.”

The skin on the back of your neck prickles. ��Why?”

There’s a reason that they call Loki “Silvertongue:” he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlessly—he doesn’t need to think about it at all.

So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.

“Imagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,” he says finally.

You don’t like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you don’t feel like asking any more questions.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Being in close quarters with Loki is…something.

There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not to—Loki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that he’s talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, well…it’s intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.

Your feelings for Loki aren’t exactly a crush, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. You’re attracted to him, but it doesn’t matter because nothing is going to happen.

Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationship—your banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average person—but it’s strictly professional and that’s all it ever will be. The fact that you’ve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. He’s your colleague, nothing more.

Except…being trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.

And the storm is showing no signs of stopping.

And there’s only one bed.

It’s a fucking cliché, the kind of thing you’d roll your eyes at if you saw it in a movie or read it in a book, but you’re a professional and you’re also not sleeping on the floor. Besides, you’ve both got sleeping bags and it’s a double bed—it’s not like you’ve got to curl up together or anything.

Not that you’d complain if you had to.

Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.

The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but it’s still no match for the storm outside, even though Loki’s done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets you’d pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.

Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.

“What?” you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. “Some of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.”

“I said absolutely nothing,” he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.

“You were thinking it.”

“Oh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.”

You know that there’s no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs.

“I’m well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,” you say.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s horrors so much as—”

You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while you’re no prude, the reality is that you’re about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside.

“Speaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about what’s going on out there?” you say.

You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. “It’s safer this way,” he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” you say.

“I know.”

It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.

You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.

“I hate it when you do this, you know,” you say.

There’s a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and you’re embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel.

“I know,” he says.

“It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or something.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Of course I trust you,” he says.

There’s something unsaid in his expression and you’re not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.

“Okay,” you say softly.

For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesn’t feel so impossibly vast.

But it’s only a moment.

You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that you’d left it over by the fire.

You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and you’re not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.

After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.

You wonder if it’s still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.

Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and you’re a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.

You’re not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.

Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.

You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and there’s a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.

In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that it’s like they’re trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.

You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.

You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for you—

Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, they’re pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize it’s Loki.

There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on.

Loki’s eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. “F-f-forgot.”

“Foolish girl.” He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but he’s right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like it’s nothing.

You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. “S-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,” you manage to squeak out.

“I know,” he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you.

The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening.

“Did you see their eyes?”

You shake your head.

You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.

You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if you’d even be able to speak at all.

“You need to rest,” he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. “Rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

You don’t like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that it’s only because you’re so cold and tired, but you know that’s not entirely true.

You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different senses—the way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you—but sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.

“Rest,” he says, and this time it sounds like a command.

Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.

It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like they’re real but not quite.

The first time you wake up, it’s because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You don’t know where Loki is and you’re trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes and—

You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Loki’s face.

“They—they were coming for me,” you manage to sputter out.

“Shh.” Loki is stroking your back. “You’re safe. I won’t let them harm you.”

Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Loki’s hands on your back calms you slightly. There’s a tenderness in his actions that you don’t necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.

“What are they?” you ask.

“That’s an answer for daylight, love,” he says. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”

You want to protest and push for answers, but you’re so very tired and he’s smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.

“I’m holding you to that,” you manage to mumble at him. “I’m not going to forget.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Sleep, darling.”

You fall back under.

Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how that’s not exactly how it works, even though you’re pretty sure it is.

You sleep again.

You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but you’re not quite sure if it’s real or wishful thinking.

When you wake again, it’s still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhat—it’s not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Loki’s arms to keep it at bay.

You’re a bit more clearheaded now, so there’s part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.

“Are you awake?” Loki’s voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.

“Sort of.” You hope he continues holding you. You’re not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.

“How is one ‘sort of’ awake? Either you aren’t or you are,” he says.

“I’m very talented,” you say. It’s not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Still cold,” you say. While it is true, you’re also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. “It’s better than it was, but it’s still bad.”

As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but there’s now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you can’t help but hope he does.

Leave it to him to ruin the moment.

“That was very foolish of you,” he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when he’s trying to pick a fight.

You exhale sharply. “Are you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.”

“I’m not fond of close calls,” he says tightly.

“Oh bullshit,” you snap. “You fucking love chaos, don’t tell—”

“It’s not chaos, it was foolish and dangerous—”

“For fuck’s sake, do you think I’m not aware of that? I’m not—”

“You could have died.” He’s not yelling, but he’s raising his voice and there’s an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you don’t know what to do with. “It’s not chaos, it’s not an accident, it’s—”

For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.

“It’s what, Loki?” you say with more venom than you intend. “Please enlighten me, since you’re such a fucking expert.”

You’re not quite sure what line you’ve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.

“You truly are infuriating,” he says. “You nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?”

And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though you’re still a little mad at him and he’s maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.

“Do not scare me like that ever again,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. “I…I didn’t even know that you…that you wanted this—“

“Darling, I have thought of little else.”

His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones.

It’s dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.

“You should rest,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “You experienced some very powerful magic—I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“I won’t,” you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.

And then he draws back.

“You really do need to rest,” he says.

You shake your head. “I need you, Loki.”

His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.

“Darling,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I can stay on my back,” you say.

“Appealing as that is, you’re rather ignoring my point.”

“And you’re ignoring mine,” you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.

You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.

“Please,” you breathe. “I need you so bad.”

He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. “I’m trying to keep you safe and you’re tempting me like this.”

“Touch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.”

It’s a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that you’ve won.

“Oh, you’re dripping,” he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.

You’re tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: “Loki, I need you.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.

“Same thing that you’re doing to me,” you say. “Which is why I need you to fuck me.”

He sighs, but his fingers don’t stop moving. “You really ought to rest.”

“I can stay on my back,” you say. “You can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.”

“Darling,” he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that you’ve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.

“Loki.” You lick your lips. “Don’t you want to feel me come on your cock?”

You know the exact moment he gives in—you see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, he’s sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.

“Not before I finish what I started.” His voice is a low growl.

“Yes,” you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. “God, that feels so good.”

“I can feel you trembling,” he says, his voice rough. “Are you going to come for me already? I’ve barely touched you.”

“I told you: I need you,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. “You’re not getting pert with me, are you?”

There’s a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhaps—right now, you need him too badly to play games.

“No, just trying to emphasize that I need you.”

“Are you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you don’t need me that badly.”

You know that he’s saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.

“I do,” you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. “I need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please don’t make me wait, please, please, please—”

He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. “I’m going to take care of you, sweet thing,” he says as you gasp at the stretch.

His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.

“Oh, that’s it.” His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. “I can feel how close you are.” He brings his lips to your ear. “Come for me and then I’ll fuck you properly.”

Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. “Oh god—I—fuck, I’m coming, I’m—”

Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.

“You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Utterly stunning.”

You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. “I need you,” you say, tugging at the fabric.

His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you quite certain?”

Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.

“You’re presenting a very compelling argument,” he says.

“Think about how good you’ll feel inside of me,” you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.

“Norns, woman.” But he’s rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the room…and he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.

“Don't you dare stop,” you say. “I don’t care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. “Are you always so demanding?”

“Look, you’ve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and you’ve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if I’m a little impatient.”

He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. “Let's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. “You totally do.”

He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. “I walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.”

“You strut and I know you strut because it’s extremely distracting.”

His smile is sly. “Tell me more about how I distract you.”

“You make me think about doing this with you.”

The tip of his cock eases into you. “Do I? How often, would you say?”

“All the time.”

He sinks in another inch. “All the time?”

“Mmmhm.”

One more inch. “That does sound terribly distracting.”

“You’re still trying to tease me,” you say and he grins and gives you another inch.

“You wouldn’t want me as much if I didn’t.”

“I’d want you always, no matter what.”

His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. He’s still for a moment, his eyes shut.

He opens them.

“I’ve waited so long to have you,” he murmurs.

“You have me,” you say. “You always have.”

He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that you’ve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper.

It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.

“That’s it, my love,” he breathes. “That’s it.”

You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you don’t want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.

You keen and he kisses you. “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you come.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.

“Fuck.” His pace increases slightly. “You’re divine.”

Less than a second later, he’s also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.

As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

“I don’t want to say I told you so—” you start.

“That’s a lie.” His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.

You smile against his lips. “Okay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.”

“Better.”

You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. “Is this the part where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slowly eases out of you.

“Mmm, but it was so worth it,” you say. “So I’m basically right.”

“That’s not how that works,” he says.

“I’m not listening to you,” you say. “I need to recover my strength.”

“Now you’re just being pert.” He shifts to his side and draws you close so he’s spooned up against your back.

“You like it,” you say, barely stifling a yawn.

“Mmm, I do,” he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah, but don’t go anywhere.”

You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. “I don’t intend to.”

“Good.”

You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

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opt1mistic · 28 days ago

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sigh🚬 i’m staring blank at my wall right now. this was godly omg. i need to talk about the beautiful detailing you wrote this with bc like WHAT??????? the things you did to my brain…………..

this whole part had be gripping my chest, my jaw was on the floor, and tears streaming down my face

They were primarily born from a fury of negative emotions would teeter them closer to crossing that border; be it a horrible burst of anger or an intense sorrow, the more a person would feel such emotions, the closer they came to bordering insanity and losing their humanity… and they closer they came to venturing out another in order to regain it back.

when i tell you this gave me goosebumps…..i was shivering omfg.

cannibals are pushed closer to insanity by their own emotions of anger or sorrow and how it leads them to consume others just to feel human again?????????? this left me TRAGIC. the emotional depth here is insane. it’s like their hunger isn’t just for flesh but it’s for something they’ve lost, and they’re willing to destroy themselves to try to find it again bc there a whole within them they so desperately need to fill……………

A person consuming another was their version of restoring their benevolence, each chunk of a person restoring what was lost in the blur of negative emotions, and with each bite they consumed, they felt just a little more human. But it came at a cost—with the more they ate, the faster they were able to lose their humanity, almost at twice the speed from pre-consumption, their emotions unstabilizing themselves once again, making the cycle repeat itself if they weren’t able to keep them in check. In order to restabilize themselves, if ever the case they did lose control again, they would seek out new prey, more prey, to gain back their semblance of being human.

my eyes are popping out of their socket…….consuming others is their way of restoring what’s lost, like they’re trying to bring back their humanity piece by piece??????????? and the more they eat, the faster they lose themselves, like it accelerates their descent into madness. It’s this horrible, never-ending cycle where they keep seeking more prey just to feel human again. It’s tragic, it’s so devastating, and it’s such an intricate and heartbreaking concept OMGGGGGG banging my fits against the wall

The notoriety of human meat was based on two components—the flesh and the blood. The flesh of humans was unlike any other; a rich maltness with the extra additions of intense juiciness and a powerful umami flavor. A true delicacy to those who have eaten it. The foreign blood consumed was responsible for restabilizing the emotions lost from their own humanity, giving off a euphoric relief that ensured a temporary emotional stability to the consumer. Mixed with the addicting taste of the flesh and the need to regulate themselves with the blood, the combination proved to be the powerful driving force of the repeat behavior for cannibals.

the description of human flesh as a delicacie is absolutely mind blowing to me. and the blood being a literal emotional stabilizer??? alice what are you doing to me. this is so disturbing but also oddly(in like the best way possible) so beautiful. It’s like they’re not just feeding their hunger but they are balancing their sanity, and that need for balance is what drives their cycle of consumption. the mix of pleasure and necessity is both terrifying and fascinating. this written so vividly, I can’t get over this concept

It was why they were dangers to society if left alone and not properly rehabilitated. If such were left unregulated, the cycle was doomed to be repeated.

it’s not just personal tragedy anymore, it’s a public threat. the idea that if they aren’t rehabilitated, they’ll just keep spiraling, feeding, breaking down again and again???????? THIS IS CHILLING TO THE MARROW OF MY BONES. it makes the whole emotional, psychological weight of the cannibalism even heavier. you feel bad for them, but you also know they’re dangerous. that balance between empathy and horror?????????? -7428737389383749 hp

my flat lining. someone pick me up from the ground. alice i am going to claw my way into your brain this was a masterpiece. i have not a word to describe it but truly divine.

AND THE FACT THAT KAISER WOULD RATHER KILL HIMSELF BEFORE EVER HURTING READER?????? and him dying in this au……………………………….when i get my hands on you…………

— compulsions.

feat. michael kaiser || wc: 9.0k cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, non-canon au, childhood friends, dark content/dead dove do not eat: cannibal!kaiser, blood, descriptive gore, descriptions of cannibalism, body horror a/n: prequel to urges (isagi). au will still be isagi-centered, but the dumb blonde got me again and this was ofc way longer than it was suppose to be *shakes fist*

For a child so small, it was astounding how much he was able to devour in one sitting.

Half the body is gone—the corpse laid facing up, the man’s face still and permanently scarred, eyes wide open and blank and mouth unhinged slightly from shock. The lower half of his body was completely shredded apart, a disgusting pool of blood with the chunks of skin littering the floor and organs completely in disarray, freeing themselves from the compression of the inner body. The legs were nothing but bloodied bones, only the feet’s flesh remaining; half of the man’s torso was nearly obliterated, only a few chunks of spare flesh hanging onto the visible spine and pelvis.

The boy himself was nothing but bones with the sparest of skin attached to them, covering them like a cloth, but somehow, his appetite was ravenous enough to the point where had eaten nearly half of a rather stout man.

He stares up at the man in the suit, tearing apart a piece and chewing slowly on a veiny clump of red muscle that twitches in the boy’s palm. The body’s heart.

The man smiles down at him, one that the boy only returns with a blank look as he continues eating.

“You must be hungry.”

Still staring up at him, the boy stays quiet, only opening his mouth to rip off another portion of the bloody heart, tiny baby teeth ripping the meat off, and chewing it again hurriedly, as though it were to disappear. Some blood squirts from the muscle, but the red bleeds into the man’s uniform, the red disappearing into the red pants and black button up.

The man crouches down at him, eyes softening when he notices the oddly sallow cheeks of the boy, cheeks that should’ve been filled with nourishment and plumped by this age, rosy and chubby. He reaches his hand out, only for the boy to wince and put the hand not holding the heart up. The man pauses, surprised at the behavior.

Eyes closed tightly, the boy lets out a whimper from bloodied lips, a menial hand acting as a tiny shield against something. He’s protecting himself.

The man murmurs softly, in a tone that seems to be rather foreign to the boy, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

The child slowly pries open his eyes, turning his gaze back to the man, who softly smiles at him. He waits, his hand still up just in case.

Then, the man carefully puts a hand on the boy’s blonde hair (oily, he notices instantly, as though it hadn’t been washed for days). The child shuts his eyes tightly again, but feels the hand go to gently stroke his head, a touch he wasn’t used to. A touch he doesn’t know the meaning of.

The man watches as the boy opens his eyes again, astounded at the odd, but painless sensation. He gives another smile at him, eyes crinkling at the corner with a twinkle in them.

“Let’s take you home, hm?” the man says to the child, who merely blinks at him.

“His name is Michael,” you hear your father say from your place upstairs, where your parents talk amongst each other in the kitchen as you hide yourself between the bars of the upstairs railings. “Michael, this is my wife.”

You can hear the shuffle of your mother’s skirt as she crouches down. “Hello there, Michael. Welcome to our house. Have you eaten yet?” she inquiries fondly.

You don’t hear a reply, something that makes your brows furrow since that’s not polite to do so.

“Are you hungry?” your mother asks.

Again, no reply.

“Do you like any specific foods?”

“Sweetheart, how about you make him a sandwich?” your father suggests to your mother. “He had eaten earlier at the facility, but I’d hate for him to go to bed starving.”

Your mother affirms his suggestion and goes to tinker with the dishes and supplies in the kitchen. You hope she’s making one of your favorite sandwiches, the one with jam stuffed between Nutella and white bread.

“I hope you like turkey, Michael,” your mother chimes; you make a face at the food, displeased with her choice.

Michael. That’s a boy's name. You have a boy named Michael in your class, and another in the class next to you. Perhaps you have a new friend of sorts? But you only meet friends from school, not in your own home, and especially not so late at night.

Curiosity takes over you, and you carefully tiptoe down the stairs, wondering who on earth this Michael was. The kitchen’s light comes brighter and brighter into view as you inch closer, and you just about make it without being seen until you hit a certain point on the wooden planks and the wood creaks out voluminously.

You freeze, alarmed at the sound, and misstep on the last stair, gravity pulling you down with it and sending you tumbling down noisily.

The impact doesn’t hurt as much as the fright that spikes in your body, scared of getting in trouble for getting caught being awake so late in the night. Your parents rush out of the kitchen from the noise, finding you on the floor in a twisted position.

They yell out your name in worry, but you’re more concerned now with the pair of foreign blue eyes that stare at you from the entrance of the kitchen. A boy with a choppy mop of blonde hair was just barely visible to you before your father hid from view with his body, his face speckled with blue and black in some areas and donning rather ripped and worn-out clothing. You stare at him back, wondering about his presence, before your mother scoops you in her arms and takes you back upstairs at your father’s command.

Michael stays in the guest room in the basement. Your father tells you not to go down there in the meantime and to stay upstairs in your room if he’s ever on the main floor. For Michael, it’s the same instance; he’s not allowed to come upstairs if you were there and must remain in the basement. They even put a tall stair gate that properly separates the two levels of the house for extra insurance.

When you ask him why, he merely tells you “because I said so.’”

“I can’t be friends with him?” you ask him during breakfast before school, some milk from your cereal sopping your chin.

Your father tucks out a tissue from the holder, dabbing the liquid away before it can stain your new purple butterfly t-shirt. “One day, you will. Just not now, my love.”

You say nothing, a response to your father shows him that you understand. He goes to prepare another helping of raspberry toast and cereal, and you tell him you’re full.

He chuckles fondly as he plops a spoon in the bowl of cereal. “No. This is for Michael.”

“How come he gets two raspberry toasts and I only get one?” you huff when your father takes out two pieces of bread and spreads the preserve on it.

“Because you don’t eat the second one all the way through,” your father chides, “and we don’t waste food in this house. Michael needs more food than you. He’s very skinny.”

“Like a skeleton?” you ask.

Your father shakes his head in disapproval, tutting a finger. “Don’t say that, honey. That’s not nice.”

You shrug, going to munch on your singular piece of toast, your full, cherub-like cheeks puffing from the food. “I’m just asking.”

A shattering crash, a loud boyish yell, and a shriek from your mother. The combination of the sounds make you rush out of your bedroom to see what the commotion is about rather late in the night.

You make it halfway down the stairs, using the railings again as a barrier between upstairs and downstairs, trying your best to see what was happening in the living room.

Your mother clutches her palm tightly, shaking visibly as her face twists from what seems to be pain of some kind. One of the vases has been broken, its ceramic shards all over the carpet of the living room. The pasta your mother cooked last night is splattered on the carpet as well, staining it orangey-red with sauce and noodles all over.

Your father holds down a wriggling Michael in his grasp, who thrashes against his hold angrily. This is the few times that you’ve seen him in passing, always so far away from you despite being under the same roof, and you’ve never interacted with each other even once besides the singular moment of eye contact in the two months he’s lived here.

“Let me go!” he screams, pounding and scratching at your father’s arms. “I don’t want stupid spaghetti!”

“You need to eat,” your father attempts to say to him, but his words fall deaf on the boy’s ears. “You have to eat something or you’ll starve.”

“Get the fuck off of me!” he hollers, the curse word making you flinch at his ferocity. You’ve heard the word before, but your parents have forbidden you to say it, with the one time you decided to test it out to see its truth ending you with a bar of soap in your mouth. “Let go!”

“Michael, just one bite of it,” your father pleads, his grip still firm around the boy whose skinniness doesn’t match with this strength. “Just a bite of some spaghetti and you can go to bed.”

He whines and yells, shaking his head furiously.

“No! I want meat! I want meat!” he shouts.

“You can’t have meat,” your father says, which only makes the boy angrier. “That’s not allowed.”

His face is flushed with red, eyes that you thought were blue now flickered with ruby as they stare hungry daggers at your mother. You can see clearly now that his chin is glazed over with something; saliva. He’s salivating.

The boy continues to thrash, wetness spitting out in flecks. “I don’t care! I want meat! I want her meat!”

Your mother whips her head back to the boy, horrified at his words as she continues to clutch her bleeding palm. She turns her gaze to her father for a response at Michael’s words, only for him to swallow dryly and to motion for her to get out of here to tend to her wound.

“You,” she breathes to your father in a wide-eyed gaze. “You need to take him back to the facility. He can’t stay here any longer… not with (Y/N) around.”

“He’s not an animal, sweetheart—”

“He’s acting like one!” she interjects, taking account of Michael’s heavy panting and intense salivation as he fixates his gaze on her, hungry and desiring. “What if something happens to our child?!”

“He’s one, too!” your father insists, ignoring the deep scratches that Michael digs into his skin with his tiny nails. “I refuse to let them do such experiments on a mere child without me around!”

“Then do something about all of this—!” your mother exclaims, motioning a bloodied hand at Michael’s savagery in your father’s arms, gasping as he lets out an inhumane snarl at her, his teeth that shouldn’t be so menacing considering they were still so immature, baring all too harshly. “—before he hurts (Y/N)!”

You’ve been staying awake at night more often lately. The quiet ticking of your clock tends to accompany you, along with whatever sounds the quiet of the night gives out.

A car pulls into the driveway, the muffled grating of rubber against concrete passing through your window with the headlights flashing some light temporarily in your darkened bedroom. They’re back home—your father and Michael.

Michael doesn’t go to school, from what you know. At least… in the daytime. When you’re upstairs, belly full and ready to do your homework in your room, your father takes Michael to “night school”, where he does seemingly the same business you do at school, just in the evening. They’ll leave at around 8:30 pm then come back at around midnight or so.

And all the while, you lay in bed. Waiting for their return. But you don’t go outside of your bedroom to greet them, not wanting to get in trouble for breaking two rules at once, you just merely lie there in wait. For some reason, you can’t go to slumber unless you know they’re home.

You can hear them talking amongst each other, voices muffled by the platform between the floors and the thick walls, but they’re talking calmly. It took awhile to get him to speak, but Michael does answer in short responses, only answering in bare minimums, so conversations often feel one-sided.

Your mother stays away from him now, only just cooking him dinner and preparing his clothes. But she makes herself scarce ever since he sunk his teeth into the deep layers of her palm.

When you asked her about it, despite knowing the reality of the situation, her eyes momentarily widened in fear before she turned to you with a plastic smile, eyes softened in a gaze that didn’t seem like her.

“Mommy just burnt her hand on the stove, that’s all,” she said, voice a little tight.

You meet Michael for the very first time in the dead of night.

Your throat was dry and aching for water, and your mother had forgotten to prepare you some before bedtime, so you creeped downstairs in the blue hour of the night, entered the code that your father gave you for the gate on the stairs, and pattered to the kitchen.

It’s there that you see him, spotlighted by the light of the fridge. He’s peering his head into it, the door to the basement wide open, his enclosure opened. Your breath hitches when you stare at him, almost admiringly so.

For some reason, however, the boy doesn’t move. He just keeps staring into the remnants of the fridge, disinterest on his face. There are eye bags under his eyes, heavy and tinted with an exhausted purple. The bruises from his face have long faded, with some yellow specks here and there, but otherwise, he actually looks a little more human now.

You freeze in your place when you see him in full flesh for the first time without any restrictions to guard between the two of you. A silence falls on your lips, your breath hitching as to not make any sudden noises to startle him and you decide that it’s best to go back upstairs until he goes back down into the basement, but just as you’re about to move, Michael closes the door and turns back.

Then he sees you. You see him. Your eyes widen. He blinks.

It’s hard to see, given that the house was only lit by the light above the stove, but you see him there in full visibility. You’re a little taller, but you make direct eye contact with him, your eyes meeting intentful hues of blue.

You don’t know what to do. You’ve been good so far—abiding by your parents’ words and avoiding interaction with him until you were able, but now you’re face to face with him completely by accident. Will you get in trouble?

Michael suddenly takes a step forward. You instantly take a step back in fright. He furrows his brows.

“Move,” he commands, an icy stare piercing into you.

A yelp struggles itself in your throat, only coming out as a weakened mewl, and you jump out of the way.

Michael doesn’t spare you another look as he exits the kitchen and enters back into the opening of the basement, shutting the door behind him.

The lock clicks. You’re alone in the kitchen now, left alone with your thoughts and the ghost of Michael.

Your throat feels drier than ever before.

It’s been a few weeks since you met Michael face to face for the first time, and you’ve made the habit to make sure you have a full glass of water at your bedside to avoid having to creep down again and run into the stranger in your house. But you’ve forgotten to do so tonight.

You opted for just drinking the sink water from the bathroom, but the taste was different in comparison to the water machine, too tinny and metallic for your liking, an iron-like taste remaining on your tongue that you wanted to wash out.

So… making sure that you were completely alone… you walk downstairs and to the kitchen again. You sigh in relief when you peek through the hallway and find that you were alone this time in the darkness of the kitchen, the overhead stove light still on to light your way.

You watch mindlessly as your cup fills with water, not thinking much of it and turning back to go back to bed, until you gasp so hard that some water sloshes out of the cup.

Michael stands before you, idly and eerily still. The moonlight from the window haloes him and makes him look like a phantom in the night.

Did you not hear the basement door open? Or perhaps the creak of his footsteps? It doesn’t matter now, considering you and him are now once again just feet apart from one another, a distance that seems all too close for your liking.

Neither of you say anything at first. Your large eyes just stare into his dull ones, trying to question why he’s here again. Until he speaks.

“Clean that up.”

Trance breaking from his haunting figure, you gain back a sense of reality and feel the coldness of the water on your foot, grounding you back.

“Huh?” you look down and see a puddle of water. “Oh…”

“Clean it up,” he says, pointing. “Before you slip.”

Your voice catches itself in your throat. Words drown themselves in the confusion you’re faced with at the interaction, and you do nothing except for place the cup on the counter and take some paper towels, soaking it up.

Michael watches you as you quietly clean up your mess, eyes scanning your figure and its every movement. Once the floor was dry, you go back to shyly fill up your cup again from the spilt water and try to pass him to go back to the safety of your bedroom, until you hear him speak again.

“I want to go upstairs,” he says, capturing your attention again.

You turn back to him, a worried pinch in your brow.

“Dad says you can’t.”

“I don’t care,” he states and tries again. “I want to go upstairs. Take me there.”

You frown, clearly unimpressed at his bossiness. “No. I’ll get in trouble.”

His eyes narrow and you flinch.

“Take me upstairs. Now. I want to see what’s there.”

The way he says it sounds almost growly, like he was about to bite at you. You can almost see him snarl slightly when you refute his command.

But you resist anyway, knowing what’s good for you. “I said no.”

Now he’s really irritated, given by the gnashing of teeth and balled fists.

“Take me upstairs or I’ll eat you,” he threatens, his voice now filled with contempt and impatience. “I’ll eat your skin and bones. And then your brain and heart.”

And though you should be afraid of him, afraid of what this stranger in your house might do to you, your face contorts into a mild annoyance, too tired to deal with this matter. If you were somewhat more awake, you probably would’ve been frightened at his words, but the only thing on your mind is just going back to bed—a simple task for a mere nine-year-old.

“You’re weird,” you mutter and turn your back to him, retracing your steps to go back upstairs. But you hear him follow, your footsteps being echoed by his own on the floorboards. You turn back to him, sighing. “Stop following me.”

“I want to see upstairs,” he repeats again, the hardness in his eyes still there.

“...”

You remain quiet, almost feeling vexed at his resilience, but you sigh and roll your eyes. Perhaps if you just let him entertain himself just for a bit. Just for a swift moment so he can shut up and you can shoo him back into the basement. Your parents don’t have to know a thing.

You hold his stare momentarily.

“Just this once,” you state, holding a finger up to indicate your seriousness.

He doesn’t say or do anything, but seems to acknowledge your permission when you let him follow you again. The stair gate is still open, and you move aside to let him in before you close it ever so slightly, just enough that it remains open for him to go back downstairs without the code, and he trails himself up the flight of stairs behind you.

You watch him as he tinkers around with the plethora of furniture in the hallway, admiring the pictures on the wall and looking at himself in one of the mirrors. Just so he doesn’t do anything dumb.

“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to a narrow door.

“Broom closet,” you say simply.

He points to another door. “What’s that one?”

“Bathroom.”

“What about that one?”

“Dad’s office.”

He then points to the two large doors at one end of the hallway, opposite to your own. “What’s that one?”

You turn and look at where he’s pointing.

“Mommy and Dad’s room,” you mention nonchalantly, the way that Michael stares deeply at the two doors going unnoticed by you.

He turns back to you, eyes still a little vast. “Where’s your room?”

Your head nudges over your shoulder. “Down the hall.”

“Take me there,” he commands again. “Let me see it.”

You want to interject, saying that your room is your own, but you’re so sleepy that you’ll do anything if it means Michael goes back down to the basement and leaves you alone.

So you lead him there, letting him wander around your room and admire all the trinkets that you’ve collected. You shuffle yourself back into the comfort of your bed, thirst quenched and eyelids heavy.

“When you’re done, close my door and go back downstairs,” you mutter as you fluff your pillow, hearing him stroll around your room and toying with the things you don’t really want him to touch. “Make sure to close the gate.”

Again, he says nothing, just entertaining himself with your collectibles and toys. You lie yourself back down and shut your eyes, just wanting to rest once more, letting Michael’s quiet sounds of curiosity lull you to sleep, ceasing when you hear your door close. Relief flows within you, finally getting the chance to fully rest without keeping your toes on edge, until you feel your blanket pulling and the shuffle of your bedsheets.

You shoot up in bed, appalled at the sight that Michael is tucking himself into your bed without permission.

“Hey!” you whisper-shout and nudge him. “You can’t do that! Go away!”

“Your bed is better than mine,” he says monotonously, not caring about your concern. “I want to sleep in it.”

“I’m gonna get in trouble!” you whine and try pulling your blankets back to yourself, but he’s already tucked his body under one edge of it like a cocoon. “I don’t like sleeping with other people in my bed!”

“Then take mine then,” he remarks, his head resting on one of your spare pillows.

You grit your jaw. “No! Go back to your own!”

“Stop bothering me,” he mutters. “I want to sleep.”

“Sleep in your own bed!” you exclaim.

“I want to sleep here,” he murmurs, resting his eyes. “Just for tonight.”

You huff, complaining again, but your words fall on deaf ears when Michael doesn’t respond again, clearly taken by the Sandman when he was finally settled into the comfort of your bed. Your own sleepiness is beginning to take over you as you stare at his sleeping, calm face, feeling defeated and exhausted.

“Just for tonight,” you mutter with hushed contempt to him, despite him not being able to answer as you tuck yourself back into your sheets.

Your father had found you and Michael asleep together in your own bed to his surprise the morning after. Although he was more than delighted to see you and him being in the same vicinity without any harm being done, your mother was mortified when he excitedly broke the news to her.

“But they’re able to coexist in peace!” he had insisted.

“For now! What if something happens in the future?!” she worriedly remarked.

“We can’t keep them apart from each other for long,” your father said. “It’s not fair to either of them that they have to be restricted in the house because of each other.”

Your mother wasn’t convinced, still adamant on keeping you and Michael separated if he continued to live with your family. “You said it yourself that the child is… you know.... What will happen to (Y/N) if he gets the urge again?”

“He hasn’t had any impulses since that one time,” your father stated. “Yes, he may have had some urges here and there but the medicine seems to be working! He hasn’t had any incidents since he started taking it, hasn’t he?”

It was argument after argument with them for at least a week, but your mother eventually brought her guard down slowly and accepted the conditions of Michael slowly being introduced to you more and more under their supervision. It was mainly your father that did the talking to both of you, with your mother staying close to you and making sure Michael didn’t do anything impulsive that would harm you.

It was a slow start, just letting you and him eat dinner together when you came home from school (you find that he’s taken a liking to anything with bread). Then on the weekends, Michael was allowed to go upstairs to be around you, watching TV with you or just intently watching you as you played with your toys (he didn’t seem to be interested in them. He seemed more interested in you and what you’d do.)

Your parents were always nearby if he was around you, just in case that he was ready to gnash his teeth. But it never happened. He never did as much as salivate around you and was just another merely child around you. Another friend.

Your father was pleased at Michael’s improvement in behavior, writing them down in his notebook as he examined how he interacted with you.

“I think the newest prototype is showing the best results,” he had muttered into his phone fondly as you showed off your newest bunny plush to him. He took it by the ears suddenly, making you exclaim and telling him that holding it like that will hurt it. Michael gave you a look, telling you that it wasn’t alive to your disdain. Your father chuckled. “His temperament has been nothing but calm lately. He’s improving rapidly.”

Your mother was still ever the worrywart, always keeping a sharp eye on Michael—an attention that went very much noticed by him. She never said anything directly to him, but with her stony gaze, it was always as though she was warning him not to make a wrong move. Michael would just return it with a flair of spite in his eyes, as though he were annoyed at her attentiveness.

But regardless, you and him slowly began to intertwine your lives with each other, beginning to build a foundation in each other’s worlds. All the while not knowing truly how permanently embedded your futures will be together.

You learned the truth about him when you were twelve.

Michael has to take a pill twice a day and drink something your father gives him every morning that mildly stains his lips purple—a juice he has to drink to gain weight properly since he was malnourished as a younger child, your father says. He eats with you in the mornings now before you head to school, but he doesn’t tag along. In fact, his “night school” has moved to the mornings, but instead of coming with you like any other child, he follows your father and they go to his “school” together.

You never questioned the pills at first, thinking they were just the vitamins you were given in the morning to nourish your body. You ask your mother about it one day after school and though her face hadn’t changed, didn’t even so much as blink, her grip on the steering wheel tightens. Hard.

“It’s to regulate his blood sugar,” she says

Your mother is quite the liar and you’ve gotten used to her lies through the years, so you could detect there was a veil covering the reality of her words. But you never prodded about them more, merely because you felt like you shouldn’t.

She asks you later that day to fetch a hair tie from the bathroom upstairs so she could properly cook dinner, but when you don’t find anything in the main bathroom, you venture into your parents’ bathroom to find it.

And that’s when you see it. A sight you never expected to see in your own house.

Your father, with a long, thin, clear tube in his arm filled with red that drains from his body into a beaker, two inches worth of blood pooling inside of it. A small test tube rack holding seven tubes sits on the framing of the sink, with a small amount of a strange and viscous blue liquid sitting at the bottom of it and a couple of orange caps sitting idly next to it.

The orange caps.

The orange caps you would see in the trash can when you were throwing leftovers out in the morning.

You make yourself small, just quietly watching through the crack of the door hinges as your father finishes draining another inch of blood into the beaker, wincing in pain as he takes out the needle from his arm that connected with the now-bloody tube. He cleans himself up, bandaging the area before tending to work with the test tubes.

Your father picks up the beaker, pouring a bit of blood into each of the test tubes with the blue liquid and you watch as blue melded into red, a plum-like color rising from the mixtures. Purple.

Purple…

The drink that Michael drank in the morning along with his pills tinted his lips purple for the slight moment he was done with it, just until he licked his lips and refreshed them.

The orange caps… the purple liquid. The dots connect suddenly and you feel more than nauseated when they do. Michael wasn’t drinking juice. He was drinking your father’s blood… and whatever that blue liquid was.

You shift your body from your hiding spot and reveal yourself to your father, your eyes watery and mind racing.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a warbly voice.

Your father looks aghast at your sudden appearance, clearly stunned at the fact that he was caught in the act. He picks up on the fact that you were clearly disturbed at such a sight and knowing that Michael was drinking your father’s blood and tries to calm you down in the best way he could, though with how harsh your chest heaved and how terrified you looked, it was difficult to do so.

Your father closes the door so Michael, who was outside kicking a soccer ball, and your mother wouldn’t intervene.

The truth spills out; about who Michael was and why he was here. About the pills and the drink. About what he did and why he did it. And though your father was revealing the truth as to not hide anything more from you, it seemed like the more you found about the strange boy living under your roof, you grew more panicked.

You’ve heard about them before—cannibals. Cannibals of the world were notorious for not only their crimes, but why they did it in the first place and what led them to doing so. Everyone was susceptible to becoming one, but only when one would pass the line of sanity and insanity would be labeled as such.

It was why they were dangers to society if left alone and not properly rehabilitated. If such were left unregulated, the cycle was doomed to be repeated.

Often they were looked at with contempt and disgust—so much so that even those that committed the act even just once and restored themselves to society were almost always shunned by others, mainly due to the fear that they would become their next victim. It was rare, but there were people that looked at them with pity—like your father. A gentle, soft-spoken man filled with empathy, your father had dedicated his life’s work as a scientist to try to help those who fell victim to such, with the last few years being dedicated to working on a cure that would stop such dysregulation once and for all.

The pill that Michael took in the morning and night was one of its prototypes. The drink with your father’s blood was to primarily keep him stabilized without wanting to eat flesh and bones. The blue liquid it was mixed with was to thin the blood and reduce the full effects of it so he wouldn’t become too dependent on it. But none of that mattered compared to learning the truth about Michael and why he was here.

You had been living with a cannibal this entire time. Eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him, watching cartoons with him, sharing a bed with him… all the while he had the complete ability to devour you whole if his mind slipped at the slightest sense. The truth was horrifying and you wish you had never learned it, because upon doing so, you spiraled into chaos and sobbed to your father why on earth would you hide this from you, knowing that you loved Michael so dearly, it was unlike any other love you harbored for anyone else. You loved your parents, you loved your friends… but Michael was special. There was a special place in your heart for him.

A heart he could’ve gnawed away at in any given moment.

Your father tried to calm you down, telling you that Michael was just as human as you were now. That such urges from him dissipated long ago and he hadn’t gotten them since he started taking the pill and drinking his blood. That he wasn’t a danger to the world any longer because of what your father had nurtured for him.

“This isn’t fair!” you cry. “I deserved to know!”

“Yes, you did,” your father says. “But I didn’t know how to tell you without you getting scared.”

A flow of tears rapidly smear your cheeks, your emotions getting hazy. “What if something happens?! What if—what if something happens to you? O-or Mom? Or me—”

“I’d never hurt you, (Y/N),” Michael’s voice says softly from nearby.

You and your father turn over your shoulder to see Michael standing in front of the bathroom, feet shuffling. Eyes still blurry with tears, you just barely manage to make out his figure. He seems uncharacteristically meek, ashamed almost.

“Micha…” you croak out.

He slowly walks towards you, but your father abruptly stands up and creates a barrier between you and him, understanding that you and him may need some space right now. You hide behind your father, terrified of him after learning his truth. Understandably so.

But he remains his guard in place, adamant.

His gaze concentrates on you, eyes of azure piercing into you. His usual flicker of malice that he gave everyone but you and your father isn’t there, but instead replaced by a true and dedicated devotion. Dare you say you call it love, even, if cannibals were even capable of such.

Your father clears his throat. “Michael, I think it’s best if you—”

“I hate the thought of it,” he states simply, ignoring him. “In fact, I’d rather kill myself than even think of hurting you.”

His tone was just as droll as ever, but the depth of his words were clear as day. Transparent, showing off a nature of him that only you got to see, softer and milder from a boy whose words were usually as sharp as knives.

His dark, harsh words made you and your father flinch, especially considering that Michael was saying them with a completely serious face, indicating that the twelve-year-old was more than capable of doing such a task if given the chance to.

But regardless, you could still see his earnesty. Whether it was you and your immature brain or the fact that you viewed him as special, you chose to believe it. The doubts still lingered in the back of your mind, yes, but you still felt a compulsion to let him still be in your life as Michael.

You stay behind your father, just peeking your watery eyes out at him.

“Do you mean it?” you ask softly.

“That I’d kill myself?” he reiterates, making you frown.

“No,” you mutter. “... that you’d never hurt me.”

Michael stares at you before he nods.

“I’d kill every person in this world before I hurt you,” he states to your father’s concern… especially when he notices the quiet mania in the boy’s gaze. “... before I let anything hurt you.”

You and Michael were fourteen when it all happened.

He was picking you up from the bus stop that your bus dropped you off at, as his “school” ended a few hours earlier than yours did, with just a mild walk back to your house filled with conversations about your day.

It was a late fall day, the sun setting earlier in the day than it did in the summer, so the sky was starting to spill with the beginning traces of blue evening ink mixed with the remnants of daylight.

You and Michael enter your house, the lights oddly flickered off except for upstairs despite both your parents’ cars being home.

The smell was immediate, the first thing that hit you that indicated something was wrong.

An acrid scent—rotting and putrid. Tinny, the faint smell of copper ghosting around the house. Michael curses aloud, face wrinkling at the smell and saying that your mother was probably cooking up a dead body to your discontent. But you can’t help but pinch your nose either, nearly retching at the scent that flamed your nostrils.

You call out for your mother in the darkened house, wondering what on earth she could be cooking in the kitchen, but when you patter over to that area of the house where your mother was usually in during this time of day, her and her pink apron were nowhere to be found.

Michael notices that there were ingredients being prepped and that she was most likely about to cook some salmon, a knife being laid out on the counter next to a cutting board. But the vegetables and the fish are warm, as though they had been left out for a while. You tell him to check the basement as you search the first floor, a worry building inside of you at the strange emptiness.

The living room, the dining room, and the laundry room are all completely empty, except with the remnants of human life like the remote sitting in between couch cushions and the washing machine still running. You check the front door again to truly see if your parents’ cars were there, and they were; hell, even their slippers were gone indicating they were somewhere in the house that you now feel has a sinister feel to it. Something is wrong.

Michael comes back upstairs. He shakes his head when you ask him if they were there, coming up as empty-handed as you were. Your own hands grow clammy, a slight rush of heat running across your forehead. Michael takes your hand in yours, warming them up with his in a quiet attempt to soothe you.

He says that they’re probably upstairs, that there’s still that ground you have to cover. But there’s this gnawing feeling that eats at you when you gaze upon the stairs, telling you that going up there is a bad decision. You try to voice it to Michael, but he just juts a brow at your confusion, shaking it off and with his hand still in yours, you and him slowly climb up.

It’s not a rushed pace to go up the stairs you’ve travelled up and down many times. In fact, you want to go slower the more of them you climb, this resistance in your legs attempting to pull you down as a plea to not go further, for your sake. You pause on the stairs suddenly, a terror in your eyes.

Michael furrows his brows and tightens his hold. He asks you what’s wrong.

Nausea seeds itself within you. You’re left wordless, only swallowing thickly and shaking your head.

Michael turns his head towards upstairs, thinking you’ve seen something, but he sees nothing but the closed doors of the bedrooms. He pulls you stubbornly, managing to make you climb one more step.

You’re frozen in this state of fear, lip warbling at the haunting anticipation. Michael continues to pull you up, telling you to get your act together frustratingly as he heaves you up step-by-step until you and him reach the top floor.

The nausea grows worse when you make eye contact with your parents door, making Michael hiss out in pain slightly when you tighten your grip in his hand. He wants to tell you off, but you cower towards him, a glaze over your eyes. He thins his lips, letting you clutch onto his arm as you approach your parents’ closed door.

Michael suddenly stops in his tracks, just a few feet shy from the door. You turn to him.

The smell he had gotten used to during the few minutes of the search, using his shirt and the laundry detergent leftover on it to replenish his senses every once in a while, but his stomach twists as he realizes that the smell is much more strong now. The strongest it’s ever been, actually—so strong, it makes him want to hurl right then and there.

A rancid rot of something. The familiar metallic smell overwhelms him… but more in the sense of familiarity and less of disgust. He’s encountered this scent. Because Michael has smelled this before, all those years ago.

Dread pits itself in his stomach when he guesses what’s behind these closed doors. He can hear it if he listens closely.

Not wanting to wait any longer to keep himself in the dark, Michael grips the door handle of one of the doors and swings it open.

Immediately, you want to throw up and vomit. The smell from earlier is the strongest it’s ever been—a disgusting, pungent thing that even makes Michael retch once or twice in his throat.

You gather yourself up from trying not to vomit, and you regain your balance back to Michael’s side… only to see the very thing that would plague your mind for the rest of your living years.

There, in the middle of your parents’ darkened room, was the corpse of your mother, her torso nearly gone with her blood and leftover organs spilling all over the carpet. Her small intestine lays limply on the ground, unraveled, while one of her lungs half-reveals itself to you from inside her ribcage. Her face is turned towards you, a face forever ingrained in your memory as the very definition of fear itself—eyes wide open, mouth unhinged into what looked like a scream.

And hovering over her, feasting on the flesh of her body, was your father, mangled and bloody and ravenous. His face was smeared with blood, glasses speckle with ruby as his teeth sank deep into her limp arm, ripping off a tender piece of skin off so large, it revealed bone. He chews it with a heaving chest, saliva dripping from his mouth like a waterfall as he searches for more skin to feast on. An inhumane growl erupts from him as he swallows, going to bite on her arm again.

But before he can tear off another piece, you scream out loud at the ghastly sight, making your father suddenly look up and see you and Michael standing there, shock written on both of your faces. It paints his own suddenly, the animalistic-like look on his face dissipating with the exception of his reddened irises that pierce into you and Michael.

You shake violently, your vision getting hazy the more you try to analyze the scene before you. Michael himself is trying his best to understand what on earth happened—why such a mild-mannered, quiet man was able to do such a beastly thing.

Your father suddenly stands up, blood still dripping from his chin, a desperate look in his eyes.

Michael guards you behind him suddenly, reaching behind his pocket as he grits his jaw when he stares at the bloody man that reaches out for you.

“(Y/N)...” your father gasps out, throat hoarse. “I-I can explain—”

“Stay the fuck back!” Michael shouts, revealing the kitchen knife from earlier in his grasp that he points directly at the man that had been taking care of him for the past several years—though calling him a man didn’t seem all that fitting now, not with the corpse in front of him and the blood that stains his body. “Get away!”

Your father desperately turns to him, tears pricking at his eyes at the two children before him looking absolutely terrified of him. “Michael… please… I just—I don’t know what—”

A sobbed whimper rips from you, your voice lost, but Michael speaks for you. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“I don’t know…” your father gasps, blood spitting, “I’m so s-sorry… I just… we were in a fight and—” he takes another step, one that Michael and you take back.

“I said stay back!” he hollers and juts the knife at the man.

“I’m sorry,” your father wheezes, but takes a couple of more to try and reach you, his precious child, with hands that once grazed you so affectionately but are now stained with the blood of the mother you came from. He circles in on you, despairingly, calling out your name in the tenderest manner he can muster despite the red tint on his lips and teeth. “(Y/N), please f-forgive me. Forgive Papa—I didn’t mean to—”

You choke out a sob, gasping for breath, the violent tears running down your face muffling you but you shake your head desperately to not let him get any closer to you. Michael lets you hide yourself behind him, his knife still drawn and hand intertwined with yours.

Your father is now crying himself, disgusted at what he’s done to make you cry so harshly. His hands shake viciously, with their only want being to hold you in his arms like he did this morning before you left for school. If the universe could allow him one wish… just let it be that. Just let him hold his child in his arms one last time before—

Michael suddenly turns on his heel, dropping the knife and pulling you with him, abandoning your father in the bedroom upstairs. He drags you down the stairs you came from, a sense of flight overtaking his senses and letting his body float through the air to wherever he takes himself.

You and him suddenly burst out the door of the house, your father’s forlorn screams of your name echoing from behind you, his broken voice being the last sound you’d ever hear from that house that you leave behind as you and Michael sprint into the night—running and running and running. Running so far, away from the house, away from your father, away from your mother’s body, away from your old life… until your legs are so sore that they can’t function anymore.

All the while, the images play in your head, haunting you. Your mother’s ghastly face staring up at you with chunks of her body missing, your father and his bloody face, the wretched smell of the house, all of it makes you cry as Michael pulls you along. Everything hurts, from the inside out, and you’re nothing but confused and scared.

Amidst the night, you and him stop at a park that you think is miles away from your old house, only lit by a few spare lampposts. Your chest hurts, his feet ache, both of your heads spinning from exhaustion and adrenaline, and you collapse into him, your world suddenly fading black.

A sharp pain stabs you in your chest suddenly, making you gasp aloud and sit up in bed. It disappears the moment you’re conscious, but there’s this aftereffect of a sting that blooms within your chest. A clammy, shaky hand draws to your forehead that you can feel is misted with sweat and you draw a stuttering breath, trying to regain semblance of where you are in this darkened room.

There’s a dim lamp in the corner of the room, and that’s all it takes for you to understand where you are.

“Look at me.”

A voice says it from beside you and you whip your head to see blue hues looking at you with concern. Your own gaping eyes meet Michael’s tired ones, and your shoulders droop upon seeing him.

“Micha…” you rasp out, throat irritatingly dry.

Michael doesn’t say anything, just examining your shaking figure for a bit as you recompose yourself with deep breaths. This was routine to him at this point the more the date of the incident draws closer. There were moments that the one singular moment that pivoted your life entirely would haunt your dreams, making you shake and wrestle with the sheets so violently, it woke him up. He had tried to wake you up mid-nightmare before, but his words fell on deaf ears and you only responded in terrified whimpers. It wouldn’t be long before you jolted awake anyways, once the whimpering started.

A towel at the ready, he grabs it from the nightstand and presses it up to your forehead, soaking the nightsweats up and dabbing it on your open neck and chest that’s stained with tears and saliva. Your chest still heaves harshly, but your eyes don’t flicker around as much as they did mid-sleep, focusing on the blanket’s design as the towel soaks your skin.

You fist the blanket. “I had that—”

“—nightmare, I know,” he mutters, placing the towel back onto the nightstand and grabbing the glass of water to help quench your thirst. “Drink.”

Obeying his command, you recklessly lap up the water, with a bit of it trickling down your chest to his displeasure considering he just cleaned that area up.

You hold your head in your hands as he puts the cup back down on the nightstand, head spinning. Michael suddenly shuffles to you, letting you rest your head on his chest like you did at the park all those years ago, listening to his heartbeat to help calm you down.

“I still see him,” you murmur, feeling his hands run up and down your back. “My dad. I mean.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “It’s the same thing every time.”

“I’m sorry,” your eyelids heave and flutter lightly, exhausted. “You must be tired of having to deal with this.

You smile slightly at his blunt statement, eyes closing as you listen to the steady beat of a heartbeat you often were lulled to sleep by through the years.

He shrugs, clearly unbothered despite how many times he’s had to face this from you.

“Doesn’t matter,” he sighs. Michael’s gaze focuses on the shade of yellow the lamp is, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the silent tears that flow from you soaking his shirt. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

a/n: this was sooo self indulgent but WTV i just wanted to get it done and spit this out here.. i had more lore to him too but i didn't want him to get greedy so i stopped it here. need to fix that ending tho... lowk weak

also their relationship isnt supposed to be hinted as incestual despite the dark themes—their relationship is more akin to like eremika, where one of them was abandoned and got “adopted” by the other, but kaiser still has his last name. also bc reader’s mom didn’t rly treat him like a son and their dad treated him more like a science experiment. hope i implied that properly

oh he dies in this au btw. just so u know

#cannibalism.tw #ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmugod #i’m in tears #this was SO HEAVY OMG #alice you mind……i could kiss you rn(respectfully)#the suspension i felt when reader and michael were walking up the stairs is terrifying #i’m gripping my shirt this was the most amazing beautiful astonishing brain altering thing i have ever read #your writing is unmatched UNBELIEVABLE this was so absolutely gorgeously written #k**ser.#favs.#rec.

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