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osaemu · 10 months

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be.

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant.

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace.

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you.

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?”

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read.

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once.

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now.

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time.

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door.

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie.

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches.

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door.

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes.

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

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ty-bayonet-betteridge · 11 months

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two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #nsft #amy dallon #panacea #MY BELOVED GIRL. IS BACK #our writing #dr riley davis mde

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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

part five

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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seokgyuu · 8 months

Text

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here.

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale.

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!”

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier.

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise.

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks).

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation.

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together.

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights.

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer.

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all.

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?”

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move.

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it.

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting.

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours.

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode.

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed.

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you.

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.”

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek.

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious.

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up.

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin.

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you.

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now.

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him.

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs.

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you.

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier.

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end.

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life.

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you.

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish.

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him.

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you.

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there.

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you.

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again.

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it.

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt.

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans.

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath.

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours.

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin.

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.”

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red.

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t.

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again.

2K notes · View notes

sigh-tofm · 7 days

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if you have anxiety… (some 18+)

… price

- takes charge. understands how hard it is to be a functional human some days. removes all the unnecessary overthinking you do. breakfast? omelette. workout? yes, a run. dinner? steak, and he will do the hard part. you chop the veggies. movie? this cheesy romcom. sex? of course, you just lie back and let yourself get overwhelmed by his tongue. can’t do much overthinking when you barely remember your own name, can you? while you rest against the headboard in the afterglow and catch your breath, he fishes a magnesium pill from a bottle and makes you swallow it, holding a glass of water to your lips. ‘let’s calm that head down, baby.’

… kyle

- talks you down. he’s smooth and he knows it. when you run yourself in circles trying to find solutions to problems that only exist in your head, he has a way of breaking your head open and making you see the light with only a few soft sentences. he lets you ramble on and on about all the things that plague you until he eventually says something that catches you completely off guard and puts everything into a new perspective. suddenly you understand how it’s all connected and what previously felt like world-ending problems now seem like minor inconveniences, if that. he knows that making you putting your thoughts into words and talking about them with him is the best way to dismantle the thought patterns in your head. a simple afternoon walk with him is like a hundred hours in a therapist’s office. and of course you get a quickie on the sofa after.

… johnny

- helps you fight off the restlessness and other nervous symptoms. always catches the signs, your trembling hands and wavering glances, and tries to derail your trains of thought that he knows might cause a panic attack. his first method is always making you laugh, and his stupid jokes almost always do the trick. if that doesn’t work, he knows jumping jacks are a sure way to fire off the stress hormones and adrenaline building up inside you. and if you come home all frazzled, nerves fried after a day of stressful work tasks, impossible clients and rude coworkers, he makes sure to tire you out physically and mentally by way of eight different sex positions over the course of three and a half hours. you sleep long and well that night.

… simon

- is at your service. literally becomes like your service dog. when you’re out and about, you just need to hold on to his arm or put your hand in his pocket. he’ll take you where you need to go, you don’t need to worry about it. if the hustle and bustle of the world around gets to be too loud, he’ll put a heavy arm around your shoulders, literally grounding you. you can hold his large, scarred hand if you need something to focus on, running your fingers over the ridges and bumps on his skin. like any good service dog he creates space for you, simply by existing. no one bothers you when he’s around. if you fidget with the zipper on your jacket or pull on a strand of your hair, he knows before you even notice what you’re doing. he’ll gently redirect you, guiding your hand away from whatever it’s doing. if you’re at home, he’ll sometimes place it blatantly on his crotch instead, to really give you something to fidget with.

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smileysuh · 11 months

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send in the clowns

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark & Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k

🍭 aus. Halloween, frat au, friends to lovers, Joker!Jae, Buggy!Mark, Pennywise!Hyuck, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm not sure I can even explain this one tbh

1: Mark

Mark loves drunk karaoke nights. He loves the way the alcohol calms him down, making his skin tingle and his lids feel heavy. He loves how easy it is to smile and laugh while his friends make fools of themselves. He loves watching Hyuck and Jungwoo be silly goofy chaos demons, choosing duets and ballads that make them sink to their knees and belt out songs so loud that they get noise complaints from other frat boys walking by their room. But most of all, Mark loves watching you sing, watching your hips sway to the music as you lose yourself in the energy.

It has taken a year of being friends with you before you opened up and started really relaxing with Mark and his frat brothers. Mark has enjoyed every moment of watching you bloom into the flower you are now. He’d thought you were cute when you first met, but these days, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

He feels downright lucky, sitting on his bed, a beer in his hand, watching you stumble your way through a rap verse. Karaoke is never about being good at singing, although, Hyuck does often get a one-hundred-point score and boasts about it by running down the halls declaring himself the best singer in the frat.

No, drunk karaoke is simply about friendship. It’s about the way Mark feels able to be truly himself when he’s with you, his roommate Hyuck, and his two other frat brothers Jaehyun and Jungwoo. You’re a fivesome Mark had never expected to feel so at home with, but now, he couldn’t imagine anything else.

It’s getting late, and your energy is rapidly deteriorating, especially as you finish up your song and collapse next to Mark on his bed. He knows you well enough to see that when Hyuck and Jungwoo complete their next duet, you’ll be heading back to your apartment across campus.

Mark does his best to appreciate the time he has left with you, scooting closer so your thighs are just touching. He offers you his beer but you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath from the excitement of getting a score of ninety-eight.

In the confines of Hyuck and Mark’s small room, the two most extroverted of the fivesome pour their hearts out into ‘Greased Lightning,’ complete with flamboyant choreography and more giggling than Mark’s tired abdomen can even handle.

Even Jaehyun is laughing, standing by the window with a joint. His cheeks are flushed red, ears matching, and Mark swears he’s never seen Jaehyun as free as he is during nights like this.

As the song finishes up, you let out a deep sigh, standing. “I should really be headed home.”

Mark rises to his feet, pulling you into a hug that never lasts long enough. “Thanks for coming,” he murmurs, offering you a small smile as he does his best to conceal just how much he enjoys your company.

“You guys know I never miss karaoke night,” you grin, sending him a wink before you head over to hug Jaehyun.

Mark watches the way his hyung’s eyes close as he holds you, his embrace lingering around your smaller form.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jae,” you nod, pulling away before your gaze shifts to Hyuck. “And I’ll see you and Mark at the Halloween party tomorrow night.”

“Not if we see you first,” Hyuck teases, pulling you into a hug that looks a little too tight for Mark’s liking.

“God, you’re such clowns,” you laugh, pushing at Hyuck’s shoulders to prompt him to release you.

“Is that a song request?” Mark’s roommate asks, jumping on the chance to sing another. “I would crush Sinatra’s ‘Send In The Clowns.’”

You simply roll your eyes, going to join Jungwoo at the door. “Goodnight, guys.”

Jungwoo has been your longest-standing friend since first year. He’s the one who introduced you to Mark, Hyuck and Jaehyun. He’s probably the only person in the room who doesn’t want to fuck you, and he’s the one you always walk home with- leaving the frats at night can be dangerous for a pretty girl like you, and your six-foot golden retriever bestie always insists on making sure you get back to your apartment safe.

With one last goodbye, you leave, and there’s a noticeable shift in the energy of the room. All three men let out small sighs, and Jaehyun turns to the window, clearly intent on watching you walk away.

Hyuck, meanwhile, collapses onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “She’s great.”

“She is,” Mark agrees, sipping his beer.

“You know, I’ve got a great idea,” Hyuck says dreamily.

“Let's hear it,” Jaehyun sighs, biting the bait while still looking out the window.

“I’m thinking- now don’t immediately shut this down, but I’m definitely thinking Halloween orgy.”

Mark chokes on his beer, sputtering and trying to clear his throat.

“Jesus, Mark, don’t die-” Hyuck sits up, staring at him while Jaehyun simply shakes his head with a smile. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, but why are you serious?” Mark asks, swallowing thickly. “Why do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Not just a good idea, a great one,” Hyuck smirks. “Listen, we’ve all been into her for ages, and what's the one thing stopping us from making a move? Each other.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the only thing stopping us,” Jaehyun muses.

“She wants us,” Hyuck states.

“She does?” This is news to Mark.

“A hundred percent… like my karaoke score. I’m sure of it.” Hyuck nods to himself. “It’s in the body language.”

Jaehyun turns away from the window to asses Hyuck, crossing his arms over his chest. “What body language?”

“Just trust me.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No.”

“Your loss, don’t join the orgy, Mark and I will show her a good time,” Hyuck’s eyes shift to the Canadian, “Won’t we, Mark?”

Mark’s throat goes dry. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this scenario. As roommates and best friends, he and Hyuck have shared girls before- this wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary…

“I mean…” Mark sighs.

“You’re both crazy,” Jaehyun insists.

Hyuck scoffs loudly. “As if you don’t want to join!”

“I’m not saying I don’t, I’m just pointing out that there are multiple reasons none of us have taken a shot at her.” Mark appreciates Jaehyun’s level-headed thinking, it’s a sharp contrast to Hyuck’s chaos. The Hyung in the room is good at voicing what Mark isn’t able to. “If she’s not interested, you’ll ruin karaoke night. You’ll ruin the friendship. If she is interested, who’s to say she wants all of us? Most girls are monogamous- who’s to say she’d even want to be part of an orgy with three guys? Who’s to say we could all actually handle sharing, given who she is to us? Hyuck, can you honestly say you wouldn’t get jealous watching her suck Mark off?”

“Not if I was balls deep in her pussy,” Hyuck grins.

Jaehyun only sighs, rolling his eyes and shifting his attention out the window again. “This is a bad idea.”

2 : Jae

The only class Jaehyun arrives early to is the one he shares with you. He can’t help the feeling that rushes through him as he takes the amphitheater-style stairs two at a time, joining you in your seats at the back of the massive class.

“Hey you,” you grin, already turning in your seat to smile at him.

“Hey.” He puts his bag down, also angling to look at you. “How’s it going?”

“Going good,” you nod, taking in his onesie. It’s Halloween, so you’d both agreed to come in Pokemon outfits, and Jaehyun feels a lot more comfortable than a few other students in more restrictive costume attire. “You look good as Charmander.”

“Thanks, Pikachu.” God, he likes you way too much. Sometimes it’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, hard to make conversation instead of just staring at your lips. “You know, I’m a little surprised you actually came as a Pokemon.”

“What?” You cock your head to the side. “Why? We promised we would!”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun shrugs. “I know you have that thing about clowns, guess I thought maybe you’d come as one today.”

“My thing about clowns,” you laugh, “says the clown.” You reach over, squishing his cheek, and it makes Jaehyun grin so hard it almost hurts.

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

You sigh. “Okay, you’re not. I like clowns a weird amount. But everyone has their kinks right?”

“I’ve always wondered what you like about clowns.”

You stare at him and Jaehyun leans back in his seat. He waits for you to elaborate, reaching up to play with the rim of his baseball cap.

“Honestly?” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know, there’s just something about the smile makeup maybe? The crazy aspect? I just feel like, when people dress up as clowns, it’s about having a good time. They can’t judge you because they’re the clown- it’s kind of freeing, a nice freeing energy, if that makes any sense.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jaehyun admits.

“Can I be extra honest with you about something?” you ask, scooting your chair closer and lowering your voice.

“Of course.” Jaehyun also moves closer, his knee butting against yours. You look so pretty, especially up close. There’s no way the Pikachu onesie should be hot, but you’ve gotten the buttons undone just enough that he can take a peek down at your bra at this short distance, and it makes him swallow thickly, trying to get a hold of himself.

“I’m this close,” you hold up two fingers almost touching, “to fucking anyone dressed as a clown at the frat party tonight.”

Jaehyun’s heart lurches abruptly in his chest. His mouth goes dry and his palms feel sweaty. He can only blink at you for a moment before he’s able to find his voice again. “R-really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, looking absolutely determined.

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers, forcing his gaze forward. He has no idea how to play this situation- no idea how to act nonchalant about this. Jaehyun prides himself in being good in any situation, his technique is staying calm through breathing, but he can hardly take a breath right now.

“Do you know anyone planning on dressing as a clown?” you ask.

“Uh…” he licks his lips, mind still reeling. “Maybe a couple of the guys.”

It’s a lie, and he feels bad saying it… but at the same time, he doesn’t want to shut the door on this opportunity. He knows at least two men who would dress as a clown at the drop of the hat upon hearing this information- and Jaehyun is quick to wonder if he could somehow go to the party as a clown without it being glaringly obvious that he wants to fuck you stupid.

“What did you say you’re going as again?”

Jaehyun can hardly look at you. “I uh… hadn’t really decided yet.”

“Okay, Mister Secrets,” you tease. “Don’t tell me, I’ll find out tonight.”

The teacher enters the class, and Jaehyun shifts in his chair, trying to focus.

It’s impossible to get what you’ve just said out of his head. In the corners of his mind, Jaehyun almost feels like it had been a challenge. He thinks about what Hyuck had said, about your body language- had this been you dropping a hint?

Do you want him to fuck you?

3 : Hyuck

“Excuse me,” Ten’s voice makes Hyuck freeze, “what, exactly, are you doing?”

Hyuck and Mark slowly turn toward the angry frat boy standing at the door of his room. Ten looks pissed- and he has every right to be.

Hyuck can see Mark open his mouth in the periphery of his vision, and it causes him to grab his friend's arm to silence him. “There you are!” Hyuck exclaims. “We were looking all over for you!”

Ten’s not convinced, and he raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your charm doesn’t work on me, Haechan. What are you two doing with my makeup?”

“Oh, this?” Hyuck looks down at the eye shadow pallet in his hands. “Funny story actually-”

Ten scoffs loudly. “Spit it out.”

“We need to borrow some makeup,” Mark states. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“You know, out of all the guys who could be stealing my eye shadow set, I never expected it to be you two losers.”

“We’ve got a very good explanation for this-” Hyuck begins, only for Mark to cut him off.

“We’re trying to be clowns for Halloween.”

“As if you need any makeup for that, you’re both already clowns,” Ten sasses. “Besides, I thought you guys were going to the party as superheroes or something.”

“We changed our minds,” Hyuck says simply.

“As if,” another eye roll from Ten. “What’s the real reason?”

“Well, y/n has this thing for clowns-” Mark mumbles.

“I should have known this was about y/n,” Ten sighs. “But wait, you’re both going to dress up as clowns and try to what? Fuck her on Halloween?”

“Well, Jae said that y/n said she’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight-”

Hyuck groans. Mark needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

“So we’re talking about a full-on clown orgy?” Ten asks, and shockingly enough, as disgusted as he looks, he also seems almost impressed. “You two, Jae and y/n?”

“Jae might not join,” Hyuck is quick to point out, and in the corners of his mind, he sort of hopes he doesn’t. It will be annoying enough as it is vying with Mark for your attention, let alone Jaehyun too.

“Jae will a hundred percent be joining,” Ten sighs. “If you can convince her, that is.”

“What makes you so sure?” Mark asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Have you seen the way that guy looks at her? He’s whipped. But I guess all three of you look at her that way, maybe you don’t notice your friends doing the same thing.” Ten approaches them, taking the eyeshadow pallet from Hyuck. “I’ll help you with clown makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’ll have to do it right.”

“Really?” Mark beams. “Thank you!”

“You run and get Jaehyun, and I’ll start on Hyuck,” Ten says, looking his target up and down. “We’ll also have to decide which clowns you three are going as.”

“Can’t we just be generic clowns?” Hyuck asks, allowing Ten to lead him to sit on the bed.

The man from Thailand scoffs. “As if a ten out of ten like y/n is going to fuck just any clown, you three have to be recognizable.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

Ten grins slyly, reaching for his makeup kit. “I can think of a few clowns that girls wanna bang.”

4 : Jungwoo

“Hey Ten, I’m here for my…” Jungwoo pauses in the doorway, the word “glitter” leaving his lips as an afterthought while he stares at the scene in front of him.

Jaehyun is leaning by the window, a joint between his fingers. His purple outfit is jokeresque, but it’s his makeup that makes it clear who he is. With a white face, a jagged red overdrawn smile and dark eyes, he looks as stunning as Heath Ledger did in the role, but prettier, which isn’t that much of a shock considering this is Jaehyun.

Hyuck, meanwhile, is in a white shirt and jeans, his face done up in a matching cream shade. His nose and smile are red, with the colour on his lips curving up as slits through his eyes. His hair isn’t orange, just its normal shade of brown, but he’s a dead ringer for Pennywise, even without a good costume.

Mark, meanwhile, is sitting on the bed. He’s not a clown that Jungwoo recognizes, especially not as Ten combs blue temporary dye through his bleach blonde hair. There’s something like white crossbones across his forehead, and he has the messiest red patch around his mouth, with blue slashes through his eyebrows and eyelids-

“Who is Mark supposed to be?” Jungwoo can’t help but ask, staring at his friend in confusion.

“I told you no one would know who I am!” Mark groans loudly, looking up at Ten.

“Do any of you even watch anime?” Ten sighs. “He’s Buggy The Clown from One Piece, there’s even a live-action of it on Netflix that came out two months ago- I swear, do you all live under a rock? I promise, if y/n actually likes clowns, she’ll know who Mark is.”

Ten’s words make Jungwoo realize what’s happening, and he lets out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest while he stares at his karaoke friends. “So that’s what this is about.”

“She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist.

He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns.

And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

5 : Barbie

The first words that Jungwoo says to you when he meets you outside the frat are, “You’re going to die.”

“What do you mean?” you laugh, linking your arm with his as he helps you up the house steps, being mindful of your sparkly heels.

“Just wait till you see, I don’t want to spoil it for you,” your best friend grins.

“Did one of our boys dress up as a clown?” you ask, skin tingling at the prospect.

“Something like that.”

“Two?” Your heart is already beginning to thunder in your ribcage.

“I told you, I’m not telling!” The two of you enter the large frat living room and makeshift dance floor. Your eyes immediately scan the location, looking for clowns.

At first, you almost miss Mark, but as your gaze narrows in on the blue hair you realize your first clown is none other than your favorite Canadian. “That’s Mark?” you ask in shock, looking him up and down from twenty feet away.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be Muggy or something-”

“Buggy,” you correct.

“At least you know what the fuck his costume is,” Jungwoo sighs.

“That’s such an odd choice for him- I didn’t know any of you even watched One Piece.”

“Ten suggested it I think,” Jungwoo admits.

“That’s why he looks so good!”

“I mean…” your best friend gives you some major side eye, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Then you notice who’s standing next to Mark. his back had been to you, but as he turns and scans the crowd, you catch Pennywise makeup and you practically shiver at the realization that it’s Hyuck.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, clinging to Jungwoo even tighter. “I got roommates.”

“You’re so weird,” Jungwoo laughs. “Wait, I uh… think someone wants to talk to you.” Your friend is looking over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Jaehyun standing there.

He looks as awkward as you’ve ever seen him, decked out as The Joker.

You can’t believe it.

You’re three for three.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You look good.”

He’s scanning your Barbie costume, and you notice the way he tries to skip over your breasts… and fails.

“You look good too,” you grin, already feeling a little overwhelmed with how many clowns are at the party.

“I mean…” Jaehyun swallows thickly, “You said you like clowns-”

“I said more than that,” you tease.

“Okay, I’m getting a drink,” Jungwoo announces, unlinking your arms. “Have fun.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to,” you grin, watching him dart away before you turn your attention back to Jaehyun. You open your mouth, intent on flirting- on getting down to the business at hand, but before you can, someone grabs your forearm and you find Hyuck standing there.

He looks out of breath, and you realize he must have just run through the crowd to get to you, with Mark still trailing behind him by a few feet.

“You’re here!” Hyuck smirks. When he looks you up and down, he doesn’t bother hiding his attraction to you. “Nice dress.”

“Nice makeup,” you laugh, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

“Well, we all know you’re a sucker for clowns.” It feels like a perfectly harmless statement, but by the way Hyuck’s smile widens, you can see the innuendo behind his words and it makes your stomach tie into knots. “Come on, Barbie,” his hand slips from your forearm to your wrist, and he tugs gently, “dance with us.”

Your gaze shifts back at Jaehyun, he looks like he wants to say something- but you find yourself being dragged into the crowd.

Hyuck positions himself behind you, and Mark slots in front, hands finding your hips to steady you amongst the moving sea of bodies. “Hi,” he says, leaning in so you can hear him over the music.

“Hi, Buggy,” you grin, taking in the details of his makeup. Ten really did a number on him- you’ll have to thank him some time for making your dreams come true.

“Thank God you know who I am,” Mark laughs, relief flooding his clowny features.

Hyuck presses his body against your back, hands slipping around your waist- his breath on the nape of your neck cuts off any words you’d planned on saying to Mark, and it must be clear, because he leans in again, “Is this okay?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, I think- I think I’m just surprised.”

“Why are you surprised?” Hyuck asks, his voice hoarse as you rub your ass back against him.

“I mean- when I told Jaehyun I wanted to fuck a clown tonight, I expected one of you, maybe two, but not all three,” you admit.

“You can take all of us,” Hyuck says smoothly.

“If you want to,” Mark corrects.

“Do you all want to?” you ask. “You’re not going to make me choose?”

“Mark and I are used to sharing,” Hyuck informs you. “I’m not sure about Jae.”

All three of you turn to look at the joker still standing off the dance floor, his gaze is fixed on you- God, it feels good to be pressed between Mark and Hyuck while Jaehyun watches.

“How long…” Mark leans close again, and his lips brush over your ear, “How long have you known we’re all into you.”

“You’re not great at hiding it, Mark,” you laugh.

“And you really don’t have a favorite?” he asks, pulling away to look you deep in your eyes.

“Do I seem like I have a favorite?” you counter.

“It’s obviously me,” Hyuck says loudly, pulling you back even tighter. “I’m everyone’s favourite.”

Mark ignores Hyuck, his gaze dipping down to your lips then back up. Even in a sea of bodies, with Hyuck rubbing against your ass, something about being pressed to Mark’s chest while he stares at you like this feels intimate. He’s so pretty, especially with the clown makeup and the blue hair- it gives him this dangerous edge, but below the layers of red, white and blue, this is still Mark, one of the softest men you’ve ever met.

You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, reaching for Mark’s shoulders-

He practically smashes his mouth against yours, and you realize how eager he is by the way his tongue immediately swipes a lick at your lower lip. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you closer and away from Hyuck-

A second mouth finds your skin, with Hyuck groaning against your throat. The sensation makes a shiver run through you, and you part your lips for Mark, who dips his tongue inside.

You truly can’t believe your luck tonight. As you cling tighter to Mark, enjoying Hyuck’s rough hands on your body, you almost forget about Jaehyun- but as soon as he pops in your mind, you pull away from the roommates, turning to look for your Joker.

He’s no longer standing by the dance floor, he’s walking away, and your heart lurches in your chest.

“Jae-” you say, tugging away from Mark and Hyuck to chase after your favorite classmate. If you’re being really honest with yourself- you’d told Jae about wanting to fuck a clown because out of all three, he’s the one you could see yourself really going the distance with.

Jaehyun has two years on Mark, and three on Hyuck- he’s the most mature of the three karaoke fratboys you’ve been thirsting over. There’s something about him that’s always made you feel calm- in contrast to the chaos Hyuck brings, and the warm fuzzies Mark gives you.

You like them all in different ways, you suppose, and you can’t stand the idea of losing even one of them from your hook tonight.

“Jae!” you call again, louder this time as you follow him- catching up just as he makes it to the stairwell door. He turns to look at you, and you blink. “Where are you going?”

“Needed a stronger drink,” he muses, scanning your face. “You’ve got a little something, here-” he reaches, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb over your lips, “And here,” his fingers smooth across your neck.

“Oh-” you go to wipe at your skin, only to find white and red makeup on your hand.

Mark and Hyuck have just caught up to you, and when you turn, you see their makeup all smudged around their mouths. God, you hadn’t thought about actually fucking a guy in clown paint- this is going to be messier than it already will be fucking three men.

“What’s going on?” Mark asks, looking worried.

“Just getting another drink,” Jae sighs, pulling his hand away from you.

“Can we come?” you question.

“Sure.” Jaehyun reaches down and interlocks your fingers, guiding you up the stairwell while Hyuck and Mark lurch to follow.

You can hear them, two steps behind you, but two becomes four, and they begin to whisper. You makeout the words “serious,” “fucked,” “crazy,” and “sober.” it sounds like an intense conversation, but your mind is more pleasantly occupied thinking about Jaehyun and the way he’s holding your hand.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you ask.

“I was.”

“Looked like you wanted to say something to me earlier,” you point out.

“Maybe I did. It’s out of my head now.”

You’re not sure you believe him, but you don’t press Jaehyun as you make it to his floor. He’s roommates with Jungwoo, and you know the route to their little shared room like the back of your hand. When you get to the door, Jaehyun takes out his key to unlock it before allowing you inside first.

You head toward the shelf they keep their booze, rifling through it for your drink of choice while Jaehyun comes to stand next to you, grabbing the Whiskey.

“How much are you two planning on drinking tonight?” Mark’s voice makes both you and Jaehyun turn to stare at the Canadian.

He looks serious, but it’s hard to take him seriously while dresses as Buggy the Clown.

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“I uh…” Mark shuffles awkwardly as Hyuck closes the door behind them, locking you into Jaehyun’s room with your three clowns. “I just… are you two planning on getting drunk or…?”

“I just want a shot,” you explain, finding a tiny glass to fill.

“And I’m just doing a double,” Jaehyun says, pouring whiskey into his red solo cup.

“Since when are you two all about being sober?” you ask, lifting your gaze to assess the two clowns by the door while you raise your glass to your lips.

“We’re usually not,” Mark admits-

“But tonight, we have a good reason to be,” Hyuck finishes.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun sips his drink. “And what reason is that?”

“Well…” Mark’s ears are turning red, and it’s a funny contrast to his blue hair.

“Let’s not play around,” Hyuck sighs. “We all know why we’re here.”

All their eyes shift to you, and you quickly take your shot, grimacing at the taste. “Someone better spit it out,” you prompt, although, you already know where this is going. Mark and Hyuck had already broached the subject with you on the dance floor.

“Fine, I’ll just say it,” Hyuck throws his hands up in defeat. “Clown orgy.”

You let out a small laugh. “Clown orgy?”

“A foursome,” he clarifies. “You told Jaehyun you’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight, and you’ve got us three here, in a room, with the door locked. So let’s do this. Don’t pretend you weren’t ready to take your panties off on the dancefloor five minutes ago.”

“We have to talk about this first,” you sigh, looking over at Jaehyun. “They’ve already said they’d be up for it, but I don’t know how you feel yet.”

“I don’t really know how I feel either,” Jaehyun admits, taking another larger swig of his drink.

“Maybe we need some ground rules?” you suggest.

“That would be nice,” Mark nods.

You take a deep breath, knowing what you want to say. “The first rule should be that no matter what happens tonight, we should stay friends. I don’t want to give up karaoke night or make things weird just because I’m attracted to all three of you.”

“That’s fair,” Jaehyun agrees. “What else?”

You consider it for a moment. Part of you wants to say no marking, but at the same time, you kind of hope they leave their brand on you- you want a reminder of tonight, however fleeting, signs of teeth grazing your skin, of hands on your ass and around your throat-

“This isn’t really a rule but uh…” you swallow thickly, “I mean… I’ve told you guys before that none of the dudes I’ve slept with have ever made me cum.”

“Wait,” Hyuck’s smile drops. “Are you for real? I always thought that was a joke.”

“I’m being dead serious,” you admit, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “But I can make myself cum, so I know my body can get there-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hyuck shakes his head, reaching out to put his hand over your mouth. “You’re telling us, that no guy has ever made you cum before?”

You nod.

Hyuck’s hand stays fixed over your lips and he simply stares at you for a few moments. You see Jaehyun and Mark exchange a look.

“Well, that changes tonight.” Hyuck’s hand drops to his side. “Get on the bed and show us how you like it.”

“Will you please get on the bed and show us what you like so we can learn your body better,” Mark corrects, flashing Hyuck a look that says ‘be gentle.’

“You guys want me to… touch myself in front of you?”

“Here,” Jaehyun moves to his bed, sitting against the headboard and spreading his thighs, patting the spot between them. “Come sit with me.”

You’re hesitant at first, but after taking a deep breath you move to join him, watching as he sets his drink down on the bedside table, giving you his full attention. You slip out of your heels, joining him without another thought.

It’s a little odd to sit back against Jaehyun’s warm chest. Even though you hug him often, this position isn’t one you’ve experienced with him- and the promise of what’s to come is heavy on your mind.

“Are you okay with this?” Jaehyun asks, his breath hot on the nape of your neck while you settle.

You nod, licking your lips as your gaze shifts to Mark and Hyuck. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“If you want to stop, just tell us,” Jaehyun says softly. You feel him move closer, and then his lips are pressing to the side of your throat.

Your body reacts, a deep sigh escaping you as you tilt your head, giving Jaehyun more space while leaning back into his embrace. He’s so gentle, and it sets your skin alight with pleasurable tingles. His hands smooth down your bare arms, and when he smiles, you think it’s because he can feel your goosebumps.

“You’re sensitive, huh?” Hyuck asks, coming to sit on the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on you and Jaehyun.

“Very,” you admit.

Mark is staring at your chest, and when you look down, you find that your nipples have hardened. Your dress has a somewhat built in bra, so you hadn’t bothered with another layer, but now, your sensitive buds are pushing through the fabric, betraying just how much you’re enjoying Jaehyun’s touch.

Your legs are closed, but soon, Jaehyun’s hands are slipping down to your thighs, gently prompting you to spread yourself for the awaiting eyes of the younger frat boys at the foot of the bed. Hyuck and Mark are like dogs with their gaze focused on their favourite toy, Hyuck even licks his lips, staring at you with pupils blown from lust.

You’ve never seen clowns look this serious.

“Are you going to touch yourself for us, barbie? Or do you want me to do it for you?” Jaehyun asks, his lips teasing past your throat with each word.

“I can…” You swallow thickly, “I can show you, but… You’ll take over soon, right?”

“Anything you want,” he assures you.

You want them, and it’s taking every ounce of self control to stay focused on what Hyuck had asked you to do. You suppose there’s a good reason to show them what you like first, and you hope that by doing this, it will only build the tension. When you all finally snap, something tells you that these next few minutes will make a difference in how well they please you.

Your hand is shaky as you bring it to your core, panties exposed by the dress you’re wearing, which has slid up to reveal most of your subtle thighs. When you drag your fingers over your panty covered core, you find a wet patch, and it makes you bite at your lip, stifling a whimper.

“How’s it feel?” Mark asks. When you look up, you find he’s assessing your face, watching you carefully. You realize he’s actually concerned for you, and it only makes you wetter.

“Feels good,” you tell him, rubbing small circles over your clit while relaxing back against Jaehyun’s chest.

The clown behind you has his hands on your thighs, but they shift up, to your hips, then your rib cage- you release a breathy moan when he cups your boobs, thumbs stroking over your nipples. Jaehyun’s lips are on your neck again, and each swipe of his tongue has your core practically throbbing.

You close your eyes, leaning back against Jaehyun, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub yourself even harder. Your knees are bent, feet flat on the bed, and you can’t help the way your hips buck toward your hand.

“Are you close already?” Hyuck asks, and you can pretty much hear him smirking.

You can only nod, focusing on the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. It’s incredibly erotic to be touching yourself while pressed to Jaehyun’s strong chest, to have Mark and Hyuck watching you-

The man behind you pinches your nipples through your dress and you cry out, core pulsing desperately. “Please,” you whimper, although, at this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

Jaehyun’s hand slips down to join your own, cupping your smaller fingers and applying more pressure, helping you work your clit closer and closer to an orgasm-

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hips bucking toward his hand.

His mouth is hot on your neck, his other hand still worshiping your breast. It feels absolutely amazing- this is a position you’ve never been in before. You can feel Jaehyun’s cock straining against the small of your back, but he’s entirely focused on you. Your pleasure is what matters most, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” You can’t even finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like warm waves, pussy clamping down on nothing, convulsing desperately-

Something moves on the bed. All of the sudden your hand is being pushed away. Your panties are slipped to the side, and you open your eyes to see Mark laying between your thighs, his face pressing up to your pussy so he can lick a stripe at your wet folds. You release a strangled whimper when his tongue flicks by your sensitive clit, your walls still fluttering around nothing.

“Mark-” you whisper, reaching down to tangle your hand in his blue hair. You pull him even closer, shifting and opening your thighs wider for the man that begins to devour you. He licks up every drop of your orgasm, moaning loudly when his tongue dips in to stroke your weakly convulsing walls.

One orgasm has just dwindled out, but it’s clear Mark has the intention of giving you another.

Jaehyun’s hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently at first, but when you grab his forearm, prompting him to go harder, he concedes. His fingers press on either side of your neck, impeding blood flow and making your head even dizzier.

Mark’s lips suction around your clit, and your body practically short circuits. You tighten your grip in his hair, making him groan, and the vibration through your clit has your legs shaking.

“You gonna cum again?” Hyuck asks, watching you from the foot of the bed. “Markie’s good with his mouth, isn’t he, barbie?”

“So good,” you whimper, grinding against Mark’s face as he brings you closer and closer to the edge with shocking speed.

Mark’s tongue circles your clit, tiny circles, like you’d done with your fingers. His pace is increasing, like yours had- He’d really taken what you’d shown them about your pleasure, and learned it.

Jaehyun’s still gripping your throat, swallowing is hard, but everything feels so good.

Mark wraps his hands around your thighs and he pulls you further down the bed. Your head is now resting against Jaehyun’s chest, and he lets up on your neck, opting to grab your breasts. He pushes your dress down just far enough to release your sensitive nipples, and then he captures them between his fingers.

Jaehyun’s hips rut ever so slightly, his hard length dragging between your shoulder blades while you wiggle against him. Mark’s tongue dips into your pussy, nose rubbing your clit-

“Please-”

The clown between your thighs wraps his lips around your sensitive bud again, sucking as harshly as ever, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to fall over the edge.

You throw your head back against Jaehyun’s chest, eyes clenched shut. Your legs try to close around Mark but he holds them open, lewly lapping you through your high while you struggle and cry from how much pleasure is coursing through you.

Your abdomen almost hurts from how intense your orgasm is, and each convulsion of your walls reminds you how painfully empty you are. With three cocks in the room, you can’t believe you’ve already cum twice without being stuffed-

Can’t believe Mark made you cum with his mouth alone.

Your friends really know what they’re doing- and it’s a shock that Mark Lee, the sweetest boy you know, is an absolute menace with his tongue.

As you come down from your high, Mark pulls away from your pussy. You’re panting hard, and you look at him from under heavy lids. His makeup is a complete mess, and when you gaze down between your legs, you find your inner thighs coated in red, white and blue.

You can’t even bring yourself to care.

“So who are you fucking first, barbie?” Hyuck asks nonchalantly.

You swallow thickly, mind racing.

Mark’s the first guy to really make you cum, and your gaze shifts to him. You feel bad not choosing Jae, who is practically throbbing at your back, but Mark looks just as uncomfortable in his pants.

You don’t even have to say his name, it’s obvious who your choice is, and Hyuck sighs loudly.

“But…” you lick your lips, turning in Jaehyun’s embrace to meet his gaze, “I want you in my mouth too.”

He cups your jaw, kissing you for the first time. The only thing gentle about this is his hand on your face, but the kiss is hungry. His tongue invades you, and you shift in his arms, turning to face him. You’re on your knees, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while you press your chests together, needing to be closer to him.

His hands smooth down to your hips, and then you feel another set on your skin, pushing your dress up to your waist. Someone rubs against your pussy, then fingers hook in your panties to drag them down to your knees.

“Condoms?” Mark asks.

You break your kiss from Jaehyun to shake your head, his lips eager against your cheek and throat. “I’ve got birth control, and I’m clean- are you guys all clean?”

“Dirty minds, clean cocks,” Hyuck assures you distantly.

“Good,” you groan, reaching down to grasp Jaehyun’s thick length through his jeans. He groans loudly against your throat.

Mark’s hand smooths against your back, and then you feel his bare cock at your enterance, teasing up and down your slit. He bumps by your clit and your legs shake with anticipation. “You’re dripping,” Mark tells you.

“So fuck me?” you suggest, feeling daring, and very needy. You’re tired of waiting, tired of pretending you don’t want to be split open on multiple fronts.

“Shit,” Jaehyun groans, pulling away from you so he can sit up on his knees, hands moving to his belt buckle.

Mark slips the tip of his cock into your tight hole and you both groan at how easy it is. Your walls flutter around him as he pushes deeper and deeper, until his hips are flush with your ass. “Oh my God,” Mark practically whimpers, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so fucking good.”

Mark’s not the biggest cock you’ve ever had, but it fits just right inside of you. As he begins to thrust into you, his balls start to smack against your clit, which is still extremely sensitive from two orgasms. Your toes curl, and you practically begin to drool as Jaehyun finally gets his own dick out, immediately presenting it to you.

You waste no time wrapping a hand around him and bringing him to your mouth. You lick a stripe along the underside, earning a groan from the man above you, and when you wrap your lips around him, Jaehyun actually shivers.

“Holy shit, you look so good like this,” he tells you, reaching down to cup your head.

Mark thrusts particularly hard behind you, and it sends your mouth further onto Jaehyun’s cock, your throat clenching as he hits the back of it.

“Fuck-” Jaehyun groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

You’ve never been spitroasted, never been in an Eiffel tower, but God, it feels good.

Mark’s pace is building, his moans and whimpers like music to your ears while you try to focus half your attention on sucking off Jaehyun-

“Are you into anal?”

Of course Hyuck’s not about to just sit this out, and his question makes you groan. Jaehyun pulls you off his cock, watching intently as a string of saliva keeps your mouth connected to his throbbing length. You swallow thickly, licking your lips before you can answer. “I’ve never tried it,” you admit.

“We should try it tonight,” Hyuck insists. “Lots of girls cum super hard from a bit of anal.”

At this point, you’d agree to anything they suggest. It’s clear that the three men fucking you know what women like, and you’re willing to give yourself completely to them.

“Anything you want,” you say, voice shaky as you bring your lips back to Jaehyun’s cock, sinking down on him again.

“Fuck,” Mark groans loudly behind you. One of his hands moves from your hips, and then you feel a lubed up thumb begin to circle your other hole. Your pussy clenches tight around Mark, and he lets out another sound of appreciation. “Relax, barbie,” he tells you. “It will be better if you relax.”

You do your best to relax your entire body, and it prompts Jaehyun to begin fucking your face now that your throat is more open. Mark’s thrusts have slowed down a little, his attention transferred to the thumb teasing your virgin hole.

You whimper as he presses the tip of his digit inside of you, working you open. It’s a foreign feeling, but as he begins to stimulate you, fucking you onto his cock, you realize Hyuck’s right about it feeling good.

Another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. You don’t even know where to focus- Jaehyun sounds so pretty with his cock burried in your mouth, and Mark feels snug with your pussy clenching tightly around him, his thumb slowly thrusting in and out of your ass-

“Shit,” Mark moans loudly, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass cheeks. “I’m gonna cum- this is way too hot- I can cum inside right? You want it inside?”

You let out a sound of affirmation, sucking harder on Jaehyun’s cock. Mark begins fucking you faster again, keeping his thumb burried in your ass while his balls hit your clit with each rough thrust of his hips.

You’re gasping around Jaehyun’s length, muscles pulling tight as Mark works you closer and closer to the edge-

“Fuck, oh my God, shit, Barbie- Can you cum with me?” Mark’s free hand slips around your front, seeking out your clit-

There’s no way this man has his cock in your pussy, his thumb in your ass, and his fingers on your clit- Mark truly said lemme fuck this girl absolutely stupid-

All you can do is whine, sounds muffled by each thrust of Jaehyun’s cock past your lips. You teeter on the edge, core clamping down on Mark-

“Shit, I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, barbie, holy fuck-”

Mark’s words make you truly tip over the edge. Your entire body convulses and you pull off Jaehyun’s cock, gasping loudly while your other holes clench and unclench desperately around Mark. You rest against Jaehyun’s thigh, reaching up a weak hand to pump his cock through your orgasm, waves of pleasure nearly consuming you.

Mark’s thrusts slowly come to a stop, and you listen to him pant behind you, his breath trailing over your shoulders and making you shiver.

“My turn,” Hyuck announces.

Mark pulls out of your core and you whimper at the loss. You can already feel cum begining to drip out of you, a mix of yours and Mark’s. As much as you miss Mark in your wet, needy cunt, you kind of miss him in your ass too, and it’s a surprising feeling.

“Think you can take something bigger in here?” Hyuck asks, landing a gentle spank to your bum that has you whining desperately.

You can only nod, blinking up at Jaehyun through teary lashes. “Can I fuck you too?”

Jaehyun’s lips part at the notion of double penetration, his cock twitching in your hand. “Yeah, anything you want.”

It’s a quick shift for Jaehyun to lay down on his back, pulling you into a straddling position. You all remove your clothes, and then Jaehyun guides his cock to your wet hole, using the cum as lube, which makes it easy to slide into you. You both release groans when he bottoms out, and your hands find his chest.

You simply cock warm him for a moment, appreciating the stretch. He’s longer than Mark, maybe not as thick, but the tip of his dick hits a spot deep inside of you.

“Bend over,” Hyuck instructs, moving behind you. His hand is gentle on your shoulder as he pushes you down, and you take the opportunity to press your lips to Jaehyun’s, kissing him eagerly.

You roll your hips and Jaehyun groans beneath you, fingers digging into your thighs.

You hear Hyuck spit, and a moment later the feeling of something wet meets your back hole. Hyuck spreads open your cheeks with one hand, using the other to circle your tight ring of muscles with a finger. “Fuck, I can’t believe I get to be the first one inside you like this.”

“It was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun teases, and you know you’ve tested Hyuck’s patience by making him last to touch you.

“So worth it,” Hyuck agrees.

He sinks a finger into your hole and you moan loudly, burying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “Relax,” he reminds you, smoothing a hand along your spine. “Hyuck’s good at this sort of thing.”

You have to admit, Hyuck does know what he’s doing. He toes the line between rough and gentle, as if he knows exactly what you’re able to take. He twists his hand so you can feel the ridges of his knuckles as he works open your ass, and soon he’s adding a second finger. “You’re a natural, barbie,” Hyuck praises you.

Your core twitches and Jaehyun moans, throwing his head back against the pillow when you begin to kiss his throat. “She likes it,” Jaehyun announces.

“Most girls do, they just have to feel comfortable enough to open up,” Hyuck explains.

So he’s some sort of anal genius, apparently.

You honestly don’t even mind.

He works your ass expertly, and the feeling has you tingling with anticipation. If this is what two fingers feels like, you can’t even imagine having his whole cock.

“I hate to rush you,” Jaehyun says, “but… If we don’t start moving soon, I might die.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s ready for me,” Hyuck breathes, pulling his fingers out of your ass to land a smack against your skin, “isn’t that right, baby? All ready to be filled?”

You nod. “Please!”

Hyuck spits on your hole again, but then you hear Mark say the word “lube” and you look to find him holding a bottle.

“How did you even know where to find this?” Hyuck asks, accepting the lube and popping open the cap to squirt a line on his cock.

“Most of us only use our bedside tables for one thing,” Mark breathes, meeting your gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You lick your lips, eyes dipping to bulge forming in Mark’s jeans.

“Are you looking at his cock, barbie?” Hyuck laughs, rubbing himself along your hole, getting you lubricated.

“Maybe.” Your skin heats with embarrassment.

“Is two cocks not enough?” Hyuck teases, landing another harsh smack to your ass.

“She wants the full experience,” Jaehyun smiles good naturedly below you. “Isn’t that right, barbie?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “How often do you end up in a foursome? It would be… irresponsible not to try it to the fullest, right?”

“Our little barbie likes being full,” Hyuck groans, sliding the tip of his cock into your ass. “Trust me, you’ll be full by the time this is all over.”

You can’t even respond, your mind much more pleasantly focused on the feeling of Hyuck splitting you open. You’re doing your best to breathe, to relax, but it’s a difficult feat as Hyuck sinks more and more of his thick cock into your virgin hole.

“Oh my God-” you whimper, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

Jaehyun’s hand is smooth along your back, reassuring, and he draws your lips to his again. He eats up your sounds of pleasure as Hyuck bottoms out, releasing a deep groan. His fingers dig into your hips, and he allows you to get used to the feeling of being completely stuffed.

“Good?”

“So good,” you breathe.

“Can I start fucking you stupid now?” Hyuck asks. “Or do you need a moment?”

“Fuck me silly.”

“Don’t mind if I fucking do.” Hyuck’s grip tightens on your hips, and his first thrust makes you cry out, gasping into Jaehyun’s mouth. The man below you lets out a grunt, the force of Hyuck’s motion pushing you further onto his own cock.

You feel Jaehyun adjust, anchoring himself so he can begin to fuck up into you.

They’re holding you steady, hovering over Jaehyun so they can both be the ones moving to meet your holes. Skin slapping against skin, it’s an erratic sound as they both struggle to find a pace that works. You’re clawing at the bed when they both thrust at the same time, so Jaehyun adjusts again, pistoning into you as Hyuck draws back.

Now this feels like heaven.

“Fuck,” you moan, burrying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so fucking hard-”

“Do it,” Hyuck says, spanking you roughly.

Your entire body clamps down on them from the sting of the hit, and you gasp, teetering on the edge-

“Cum for us,” Jaehyun whispers, his lips teasing your ear. “We’ve got you.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and you explode- but instead of letting up, Hyuck fucks into you even harder. You let out a loud squeal, shivering with stimulation- The clown behind you laughs loudly.

“That’s it, squeeze our fucking cocks! Bet you want our cum so bad- barbie wants to be full, but not until you take all three.”

You lift your head from Jaehyun’s shoulder, body still convulsing around Hyuck and Jaehyun. Mark’s standing next to the bed, cock in hand. “You don’t have to,” he tells you weakly, fist gripped tight around his throbbing length, the head dripping with precum.

“Come here,” you say, practically blind with lust.

Shifting off of Jaehyun’s chest, you plant your hands on the bed, leaning over so you can accept Mark’s cock into your mouth.

He releases a strangled groan, immediately cupping the back of your head so he can begin to fuck into you. It’s not like you can move while held between Jaehyun and Hyuck, no, you’re simply a girl with three holes, getting fucked by three clowns.

You’ve cum three times? Four? You’re not even sure anymore. All you know is nothing has ever been like this, and nothing ever will be again.

It’s like you’ve been transported to an entirely other planet, where orgasming with men is easy and you’re just some needy cock whore desperate for cum.

“Fuck, you just got so tight from sucking on Mark,” Hyuck groans. “You really love our cocks, don’t you, barbie?”

You can only moan around Mark, hallowing your cheeks harder around his length, while he practically whimpers, fucking your throat even harder.

“I don’t know about you two,” Jaehyun breathes, “but I’m about to fucking bust.”

“Me too,” Mark grunts, tightening his grip on your hair.

“I can cum.”

You let out a meak groan of affirmation.

All four of you are going to cum together, and nothing has ever felt so right, so correct.

“On three?” Hyuck suggests.

“On three,” Jaehyun agrees, reaching between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You practically scream, walls shuddering around the cocks pistoning relentlessly in your tight, abused holes.

“That’s it,” Jaehyun coaxes you. “Hold it just a little longer.”

“Three,” Hyuck lands the harshes smack of the night against your ass. “Two-”

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, “One!”

The tension in your stomach snaps as Mark shoots his load down your throat. Your entire body feels practically numb, awash with waves of pleasure that blank out everything else in the entire world.

You hear Jaehyun cuss loudly below you, fingers digging into your hips. Hyuck fills up your ass with his hot cum, groaning as loudly as you’ve ever heard from him while your walls contract with more force than you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve never orgasmed this hard. It’s completely all consuming, wracking you with shivers and something akin to sobs as you pull of Mark’s cock, gasping and burrying yourself against Jaehyun- which is when you realize his cock has slipped out of your core, and he’s jacking himself onto his chest, coating both your skin with white ropes.

“Fuck, barbie, you fucking squirted,” he groans. “Pushed me right out-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” you whimper, tears filling your eyes at how overstimulated you are.

“No, babe, that was hot as fuck,” Jaehyun assures you, finishing and pulling his hand away from his cock, cupping your face to pull your lips to his.

“I wanna see that again,” Hyuck says from behind you, pulling out of your ass only to release a sinful sound at the sight of both of your holes dripping-

“She’s done,” Jaehyun’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it so far, and he tucks you against his shoulder, stroking your hair.

“She can do one more, I wanna make her squirt-”

“No. She’s fucking crying, Hyuck. Give her some rest.”

“She’s crying?” Mark and Hyuck ask at the same time, but the latter sounds much more happy about it than the former.

“I’ve never cum that hard, or that many times,” you admit weakly.

“Lemme get a towel,” Mark suggests immediately, and you can hear his soft footfalls as he runs across the room.

“You did good, baby,” Hyuck tells you, stroking your back. “Took us all like a fucking champ.”

You can only shiver at his words, your pussy throbbing as an echo of the highs they’ve just provided you.

“Here, can you sit up for us?” Mark asks.

Hands gently help you up, and you look down at Jaehyun’s body, shocked to find his skin glistening with squirt and cum. Jaehyun takes the towel from Mark. He starts by wiping at your face, “clown makeup,” he explains. Then he swipes the cloth along the front of your body, you shiver when he traces over your nipples. He cleans himself last, tossing the ruined fabric to the floor.

“I feel like we all still need a shower,” Jaehyun sighs.

“In the middle of the Halloween party?” Mark’s eyes widen. “The bathrooms are full of people!”

“And barbie probably can’t even walk,” Hyuck points out.

Your legs do feel shaky, even while sitting on top of Jaehyun.

“Mark, can you go grab us a few more towels from your room?” Jaehyun suggests. “Ten probably has makeup removing wipes-”

“We should just move to our room,” Hyuck interrupts.

“Like you said, barbie can’t even walk. We’re staying here.”

“Isn’t your bed ruined with cum?”

“Actually, most of he squirt landed on me,” Jaehyun says, looking at the bed sheets under him. “It’s fine here.”

“You’re being selfish,” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up with distaste. “Mark and I share a room, you’re here with Jungwoo, it’s two against one.”

Except, Mark has already left in search of towels, so at the moment, it’s one versus one. Without the Canadian’s support, Hyuck’s easily beaten by a harsh glare from Jaehyun.

“Well, I guess I’m sleeping here too,” Hyuck sighs.

“No you’re not, the bed hardly fits two.”

“Not my problem.” Hyuck shrugs, walking to Jaehyun’s closet to pull out some clean clothes. “It’s called aftercare Jae, cuddles come with the package.”

Jaehyun only groans helping you move to lay next to him.

Hyuck practically jumps on the foot of the bed, looking up at you with a shit eating pennywise grin that’s completely smudged. “Did you have fun, babe?”

“The most fun,” you smile back, curling close to Jaehyun’s side.

“Best Halloween ever?” he suggests.

“A hundred percent,” you agree.

Your body is sore, and you’re more tired than you’ve been in a long time, but you feel comfortable. You always feel comfortable with these guys. Sure… you’re laying on a towel with cum dripping out of two holes, but… you still feel at peace.

Mark returns quickly, with more cloths and makeup remover. The boys help you out first, with Jaehyun cleaning your face while Hyuck deals with the cum and makeup between your legs. Mark finds you a spare set of sweats and a hoodie from Jaehyun’s closet, and soon you feel more comfortable than ever.

It’s kind of sad watching your friends take off their clown colours, but you’re sure you’ll have the memory of this etched into your brain forever, so that’s something you can lean on at least.

“How are you feeling now?” Mark asks, reaching for your hands to pull you up onto your feet.

Your legs are a little wobbly, but you’re doing okay, and you flash him a smile. “I think I’m alright.”

“Do you wanna run to the bathroom with me? I read somewhere that uti’s happen easier if you don’t uh…” Mark swallows thickly, skin turning a pretty shade of pink that contrasts the blue in his hair, “If you don’t you know, go to the bathroom after.”

He’s adorable, and so caring. When you agree, Hyuck jumps to his feet, and just like that, it becomes a group trip, with even Jaehyun tagging along.

The hallway on this floor is pretty clear, but you run into Jungwoo exiting the bathroom. He stops in his tracks, looking you up and down, then he begins to beam. “Looks like you guys had fun.”

“Stop it,” you push at his shoulder, skin heating with embarrassment. Sure, you’ve told him for a while that you’d love to partake in a clown orgy, but it’s another thing entirely to run into him after getting three holes stuffed by his best friends.

“Are you staying over tonight?” Jungwoo asks.

“Yeah, she’s with us,” Jaehyun responds, hand finding your hip to tug you closer as Hyuck and Mark enter the bathroom to wash the last pit of clownery off their skin.

“As in… she’s staying in our room?” Your best friend’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, sleepover!”

“Hyuck and Mark are joining too,” Jaehyun sighs, tightening his grip on you.

Jungwoo’s smile grows. “Karaoke night!?”

You and Jaehyun exchange a look and he laughs. “I’m not sure any of us have the energy for that, Woo.”

“Right, cuz you all just had hot nasty clown orgy sex. I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten laid so far.”

“You can still change that,” Jaehyun says, giving his roommate some much needed encouragement.

“Nah, it’s sleep over time,” Jungwoo grins.

You love how excited he is to spend time with you and the three men you’ve just fucked. Jungwoo doesn’t have a care in the world- it’s a good sign. Maybe this little clown orgy really didn’t change much in the relationships, or at least, as a group it still feels like things are strong.

You have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but something tells you that everything is going to work out.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Another year, another Halloween, another weird clown fic from user smileysuh

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🔮 preview. In the months you’ve been dating these three men, you’ve tried a lot of different sex positions. But you’ve never tried being stuffed full of cock while both of your tits get sucked on and your clit is played with… you should have tried this ages ago.

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, breast worship, biting, Mark/Hyuck worshiping her breasts at the same time, cum/filling kink, douple penetration, blow job, oral, deep throating, overstimulation, pussy slapping, messy sex, painting her skin with makeup, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, babe.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.5k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Jaehyun & Hyuck & Mark x afab!Reader

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“Why are we doing clown makeup again?” Mark asks, looking at the eye shadow pallet with distaste. “It’s a Valentine’s Day party, not Halloween.”

“Exactly,” Hyuck says, brushing crimson around his eyes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, which means she’s going to be more focused on Jaehyun. We have to do something to even the playing field- besides, it’s not full clown, it’s just… a few red hearts, a bit of makeup- you know how much our baby loves getting messy.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mark sighs. It’s been three and a half months since that first night you all fucked, and since then, they’ve learned a lot about you and your… tastes. You definitely like having your skin painted, in makeup as well as cum.

Hyuck’s gotten particularly good at clown makeup, and tonight, even Mark has to admit his roommate looks good. He’s gone for a lighter cream coloured base, with a red glittery heart around one eye, and his mouth done up in the same glittered scarlet colour- it’s clear to Mark that Hyuck intends on getting you nice and messy tonight.

Mark, on the other hand, isn’t very interested in makeup. Hyuck had insisted they do different colours, and after you’d revealed how much you liked his blue hair at Halloween, he’s since dyed his strands a soft, steely, sky shade.

Instead of going full clown, Mark does a few glittery blue hearts along his cheekbone. He doesn’t mind if Jae gets to be the main attraction in his romanesque cupid outfit, it is his birthday afterall.

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riot-ghost · 1 year

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Started a new train of thought following ghosts and things, and so here's my head cannon that the people of the Infinite Realms have a religious following and how one Daniel Fenton accidentally became the human priest.

"What the fuck do you mean I'm a priest?" Danny stared blankly at the Clockwork.

"I mean that you've become the priest of the Infinite Realms." Clockwork says. "By teaching your friends your following, they've decided to convert and follow with you. They believed what you're following is good and right, so there's human followers to our rituals and beliefs."

"I thought they were just respectful and curious! I don't know how to be a priest? Is there a way to revoke it?"

"Not really." Clockwork shrugs. "It seems fitting. Her Infinite lost her king with you, of course she'd name you her priest. I recommend opening a sanctuary,con holy ground. Gotham would fit."

"Holy shit, no, Clockwork, I'm not going to be a priest! I dont-"

"Damnit." Danny stood in front of the new building he'd just purchased.

It's easy to get it set up for outside use, but following the ways of Infinite, making it sacred ground, that was much harder. He spends weeks purifying the pollution and smog, and even longer doing the required rituals and cleansings.

He doesn't hold masses. He holds classes, every day at seven, to teach about the ghosts and Ancients. He cooks dinner for everyone who comes, and everyone is welcome. He's even told everyone they're welcome to just come and take the food and leave.

Gothamites come to find that if the city has been gassed, the sanctuary has clean air. It remains unharmed by the villains, all the way until one murderous clown declares religious exemption while getting arrested.

It's a very public ordeal and Danny hosts a press conference, three police officers and Batman are present. Joker is in cuffs. "I tell anyone that everyone is welcome to our religion. And if the Joker wishes to be, he will be. Is this what you want?" Danny asks, staring down the murderous clown.

"Oh, yes!" The Clown grins back. Danny pulls a gun, pressing it to the side of his head. Everyone is on edge, and Batman's reaching for his belt.

"For the two thousand, eight-hundred and ninty-three lives you have taken, for the nine-hundred and seventy-four children you have brutally killed. The Infinite Realm does not take kindly to murderers, to terrorist." Danny speaks, unwavering. "For your crimes against the Infinite Realms, for your crimes against humanity, and for all those burdened fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, for everyone you have taken, for those you have left behind, you shall face judgement upon the high council of the Infinite Realms upon open court. While there, you shall follow every law, to the letter of the law, or you shall face immediate denial to a trial. You will not be given a lawyer. You will not be given a clean death." Danny lowers his gun, pulling out a knife. He kneels, and rips the air behind the Joker a illuminated green portal is torn.

"From personal experience, there's things much worse than death that you can face. From personal opinion, I hope you face every fucking one before you're torn apart." Danny pushes Joker through the portal, and it closes. He mutters a prayer, standing tall. He retakes his position at the podium.

"For anyone who has faced the Joker, who have had people taken from them, had their own lives taken from them, who have so much as passed him on the street, come to the Realms' Sanctuary on North Blvd. 7308. Join the trial to have him purged, have him face the righteous punishment for the horrendous crimes he has commit." Danny bows.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batman #danny fenton #dc x dp #jason todd #batfam #danny phantom crossover #bruce wayne #jokers going to die #priest danny au

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babyleostuff · 7 months

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౨ৎ voicemails jeon wonwoo leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, sweetheart)

...one: i’m sure you’re going to be angry i didn’t wake you up like you asked me to, but i couldn’t. you know i never can. we landed safely so don’t worry and i’ll face time you tonight

...two: you didn’t answer my calls today baby. is everything okay? i know that these first few days apart are harsh, but please let me know you’re fine

...three: have a nice day tomorrow. remember to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. i need you to be healthy, sweetheart

...four: i saw its raining a lot back home. remember to stay safe, okay?

...five: the photo my dad sent me of you and seollie is adorable. but why does she look so happy in your arms, she’s never like that with me

...six: i’m a hundred percent sure i packed my black knitted sweater. do you maybe know what happens to it you sweater stealer?

...seven: did you sleep well tonight? i don’t know if you’ve noticed but i left you that blanket you always steal from me when you’re over at mine. i know you sleep better with it

...eight: i’m so excited, you have no idea. i found this computer game with coups yesterday and we played it to like 4am, and we got maybe like an hour of sleep before we had to wake up, but it was so worth it. we’re going to play it again today

...nine: do you want me to send you the photos i took today? no pressure, i just thought you might want to see them. but if you don’t it’s okay. but they turned out pretty nice! anyway, let me know

...ten: this is so crazy but i had so much energy at the concert last night. i didn’t even need to sit down during aju nice. i wish you were here to see it

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thevoidstaredback · 5 months

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The plan was set and the game had begun.

There was a meeting on the Watchtower exactly three days after the Bat Clan had decided to mess with the Justice League, so that's when they planned to set everything in motion.

Robin couldn't be at the meeting because it fell during school hours, so Nightwing had come to the meeting with Batman. He'd already had the day off, so it wasn't too much of a hasel. Red Hood and Red Robin had both wanted to come, but they also had civilian duties to take care of.

When the meeting was over, the 'main leaguers', as many others had dubbed them, stayed behind as they always did. Normally, it was just so they all could catch up, sometimes to arrange another meeting, or even to discuss more sensitive topics.

This time, when everyone but Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, The Flash, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Cyborg, and Nightwing had left the room, Nightwing threw his arm across Batman's shoulders and said "You all should come to the Cave!"

All conversation stopped as everyone turned to look at the black and blue clad vigilante. For a long moment, no one spoke or moved. Then, Batman nodded.

"Perfect!" Nightwing's smile got even bigger.

"Um," Superman, the sweet midwesterner, flicked his eyes over to Batman's face before looking at Nightwing. "Are you sure? Bat's has never let any of us into Gotham, let alone the Bat Cave."

Nightwing winked at the hero, his domino mask not hiding it, "Yeah, well, me and the others managed to wear him down. Besides, we've all wanted to give you guys a tour! We've been to all your secret hideouts, so we figured it's about time you saw ours!"

"I'm sorry," Green Lantern raised his hand slightly, "'Others'?"

Nightwing blinked, his smile dropping. Batman straightened up. "Did you-" Nightwing cut himself off, "You do know how many of us there are in Gotham, right?"

The heroes all looked at one another. Sure, they'd heard that there was two, maybe three, working with Batman, but nothing had ever been confirmed aside from Robin working with Batman and Nightwing working in Bludhaven.

Batman fought very hard to keep a smirk off his face. Nightwing didn't even try to hide his amusement.

Wonder Woman was the one to ask, "There are rumors, but I can't say any of us know exactly how many heroes work within Gotham City limits."

Nightwing and Batman shared a glance. This added so much more to their game. They had to tell the others! This was already so much fun, but it was about to get so much better!

"Then, I guess you all have no choice but to come to the Cave with us so you can meet everyone!" Nightwing exclaimed.

The eight heroes shared looks with one another before looking back at Batman and Nightwing. Their choice was obvious to the two Bats before the group had even decided.

"Alright," Aquaman said, "When would you like us to stop by?"

Right on script. Batman said, "Meet here tomorrow at fifteen-hundred New Jersey time. We'll be here to bring you down to the Cave." Then, he left, Nightwing trailing behind him.

"Cool," Flash nodded, "Cool, cool. Totally not nerve wracking at all."

Cyborg stood from his seat. "Don't be nervous, Flash. We're actually being allowed in Gotham. Batman doesn't let anyone in Gotham."

"No," Green Arrow said, "He doesn't let anyone operate in Gotham. I've been many times."

"As Green Arrow or as a civilian?"

He fell silent and the others all laughed. He joined them.

"Regardless," Martian Manhunter said, "I think it's good he's allowing us to see his main base of operations."

"Yeah," agreed Superman, "I wonder what it'll be like."

Wonder Woman was the next to stand from her seat. "It will be quite the tour, I'm sure."

Part 2 Part 4

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dnickels · 6 months

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Medieval Oxford had a murder rate about three times higher than London’s during the same period, and some sixty times the level Oxford has today. (At between sixty and seventy homicides per hundred thousand people, medieval Oxford’s rate compares, roughly, to that of present-day New Orleans.) The town was in decline as a center of the wool trade but alive with the mayhem of some fifteen hundred young men—loosely supervised, theoretically celibate, armed with crossbows—the scholars of the university. In the twelfth century, Oxford began to emerge, alongside Paris and Bologna, as one of Europe’s prime seats of learning. (All three had crime problems.) “If I wanted to give advice these days about, well, what could you do to really seriously increase levels of violence in our society?” Eisner said. “Probably I would say, ‘O.K., take a few thousand fourteen-year-olds, just males, out of their context, give them knives and lots of alcohol, and put them into halls—and wait and see.’ ” In the Oxford murders that Eisner has looked at, more than seventy per cent of the victims and the perpetrators were students. Ninety-nine per cent were male. (During the same period, eight per cent of London’s murderers were women.)

Colin Dexter vindicated

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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

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SunKissing

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Eight and a half months Dagger had been at sea, which is honestly one of the shorter deployments Jake had been on, certainly not one he’d have usually complained about, except that this time, for the first time, Jake had somewhere else he wanted to be aside from in his jet.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of sex but no actual smut xx

Notes: again, ty to @roleycoleyland this one is dedicated to you <3 Title from the Hailee Steinfeld song <3

Masterlist

Jake had stopped listening to the others the moment you nervously walked through the back gate. He’s off on the other side of the yard, so Penny reaches you long before he does, smiling kindly as your eyes flicker to her, then down at the covered plate in your hands when she gestures to it. Jake shakes his head internally. He’d told you that you didn’t need to bring anything, but of course you had anyway.

You smile sweetly, but unsurely as Penny welcomes you, and Jake is glad it’s her who saw you first, not one of the others. He hadn’t told anyone about you yet, let alone mentioned that he had invited you to this post-deployment barbecue Mav had all but ordered.

Eight and a half months Dagger had been at sea, which is honestly one of the shorter deployments Jake had been on, certainly not one he’d have usually complained about, except that this time, for the first time, Jake had somewhere else he wanted to be aside from in his jet.

There were very few things Jake liked more than flying, and almost nothing in the world was worth it to him to give it up. Yet, the past eight months hadn’t gone by in their usual halcyon blur of adrenaline and speed, instead, Jake had found that the time to dragged, the days clung and the weeks hanging on like they had made it their personal mission to torture him.

He didn’t get to make phone calls that often, but you’d given him your email before he’d left, and despite staring at an empty document for three days too long, he’d sent you a short, somewhat conservative update, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when not too long after, he’d received your reply.

Jake hadn’t done this before, not even with his family. He preferred the months at sea with no ties and no tethers to anything or anyone on land, completely unattached and free from responsibility. That was the Hangman promise after all, ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’, which had been working out just great for him the past couple of years, right up until he met you.

It was at the Hard Deck of course, where he’d first sidled up to you, all charm and casual cool, certain that he’d found his night's paramour, only to be thanked for the offer of a bought drink, but dutifully informed immediately that you wouldn’t be going home with him. Jake hadn’t been completely taken aback, sometimes he set his sights on a woman who was taken, or just plain not interested, and that was always fine, but that hadn’t exactly been the case with you. You’d simply gone on to inform him that you didn’t do one night stands, which, in Jake's mind hadn’t made you off limits yet, so he’d bought you a drink anyway, this time free of expectations, and to his own surprise, after starting a conversation with you properly, he hadn’t wanted to end it.

Only after you’d checked the time and told him you’d needed to go had Jake realised just how much he’d enjoyed your company, and so taking a step out of his own usual comfort zone, he’d asked you out on a date.

You’d been unsure at first, like you could read his usual antics all over his face, and told him that you didn’t sleep with people on first dates either, but Jake only laughed at your bluntness, and assured you he’d just wanted to see you again, sex or not. Even now, he’s not sure how much of that was just a line, but in the end he supposed it didn’t really matter, because only three dates and eight and a half months later, it was the most truthful fact about him.

For the past two-hundred and fifty-nine days, Jake had wanted to see nothing but you, and when that couldn’t happen thanks to his deployment, he’d settled for weekly emails. He’d never admit it to anyone, but for the first time in his entire life as an aviator, Jake had come to look forward to your weekly updates more so than he even looked forward to flying.

You’d been so surprised when he’d called you less than an hour after getting boots on the ground at last, even more surprised when Jake had immediately invited you to the Dagger’s welcome home party that night. Which is the reason why you’re currently looking around nervously, and letting Penny take your plate from you.

Jake is fully checked out of the conversation by the time he starts moving, ignoring any calls after him as he makes a beeline toward you, finally drawing your attention when he’s only a few feet away. Much like him, you seem to cease all other focus when you see him, your eyes never leaving him as he quickly closes the distance between you.

“There you are,” Jake all but gushes, sidestepping Penny and immediately wrapping you up, pulling you in firmly with both arms in a hug he doesn’t intend to let go of any time soon.

“Jake!” You barely get out before you’re engulfed. Jake feels his eyes prickle just a little bit when your arms link tightly around his neck, but he forcibly blinks the sensation away, focusing instead on how good it feels to hold you again.

“I’ll take this inside…” Penny says softly, knowingly, but neither of you really notice her slink off. You also don’t notice Fanboy nudge Phoenix, or how the rest of his squad slyly stop their talking to watch the two of you with various levels of interest.

“God, I missed you,” Jake hears himself say before he can really stop and think about it, his heart thumping rapidly away in his chest at the possibility that you didn’t actually feel the same. You laugh a little, and sniff, burying yourself deeper into his neck.

“I missed you too!” You say muffled into the collar of his shirt, tightening your hold on him slightly. Jake lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and squeezes you closer.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asks quieter than before, feeling a few spots of wetness seep through his shirt, as well as hearing the way you sniffle again.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” you try to reassure him, despite the shake to your voice. Jake can only hum, and adjusts his hold on you so he can sweep one large hand up and down you back in soothing motions, something he’s pretty sure he’s only even done once before, to his mother before he left for the Academy damn near seventeen years ago.

Jake just holds you there for a few minutes more, until your sniffling finally stops and you begin pulling back. He’s glad you don’t go far though, keeping your arms around his neck still as you lean back to get a proper look at him. He doesn’t comment on the redness of your eyes, but he does have to blink rapidly to stop his own prickling once again.

“God, look at you!” You say softly, not really explaining what you mean, but you’re smiling brightly, so Jake doesn't care. He sorta gets it, when he runs his eyes over you. You’d gotten a haircut since he saw a picture of you last, he thinks you might’ve changed the way you did your eye makeup. Just little things he wouldn’t have noticed had he seen them day by day, but all at once carry over to be much more noticeable.

“I’m glad you came,” he tells you honestly, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to your mouth, which turns into two quick kisses, which turns into a third, longer, more substantial one. Behind him, someone wolf whistles, and Jake can’t help the grin that covers his face when he pulls back and gets a look at your flushed features.

“Come on, lemme introduce you to these idiots, or they’ll get even more annoying.” He rolls his eyes, but really, Jake can’t get enough of the way it feels to sling his arm casually around your waist and tug you into him as he guides you back to the otherside of the yard. He smiles widely, taking immense pleasure at getting to show you off for the first time in front of his friends. He loves the way you sink into him, hand resting naturally against his sternum, the place where you are feeling like exactly the place you belong.

In fact, Jake believes so firmly that the place you belong is right by his side, he doesn’t let you leave it all night. He’d gotten a lift to Penny and Mav’s with Coyote, so he drives your car back for you, taking your hand and bringing it across the console to rest on his thigh, coving it with his own and giving it a squeeze every twenty or so seconds as he sees fit.

“Come back with me?” He’d asked before pulling out of the curb side parking, glancing over at you meaningfully. It had been you who’d squeezed his hand then, and smiled softly at him in the dark of the early evening.

“If you want me to.” You’d said to him. Considering right up until his deployment you’d been taking it slow, he understands the trust your acceptance really imparts, and feels a warmth spread through him at the mere suggestion.

It’s ironic to Jake that eight and a half months ago he would have be raring to go at your agreeing to come back to his home after a party, but now, with so much time between you and with Jake still firmly in recovery mode from his deployment, sex is really the last thing on his mind. It’s even more ironic to him that once he’s tucked your car away in his garage for the night, and dragged you inside, it’s him who puts the breaks on things escalating, something he’s fairly certain he’s never done before in his life.

“Mmphf… baby, wait, wait…” Jake hears himself say breathily, forcing himself to pull his lips away from yours entirely. He’d been kissing you the moment the front door was shut, shoving you gently against the wall so that he could really savour how you tasted after all these months, but your hands grasping at the front of his shirt, pulling him in, begging for more nearly has him giving it to you right there in his entryway. He refrains, though, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, though indulges the both of you by pressing himself into you, letting you feel his weight on top of you.

“What’s wrong?” you all but whine, brow furrowing sweetly, like perhaps you thought he wanted to stop because of something you’d done. Jake lifts his hands to cup your jaw, tilting your chin higher and plants two more less-than-chaste kisses to your already swollen lips.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this,” Jake starts, a wry smile already pulling at his lips and he rolls his eyes at himself this time. You blink up at him questioningly. “Lets just go slow for tonight,” he says, your disbelief confirmed when you stare at him utter in confusion, your frown deepening. “Listen, darling’, I’d love to continue this line of thought you’ve got,” he can’t help but lean against you harder then, something in his abdomen stirring when your eyelids flutter and he sees you swallow thickly. “But… I’m exhausted, honey… let me just hold you, alright?”

He says the words without much question to them, knowing that you’d respect his request without thought. He’s rewarded for his honesty by you mirroring his hold on your cheeks, your own hands cupping his face as you coo.

“Jake, you don't need to entertain me if you’re tired, I can go home…!” you try to tell him, but he ends that idea with a sharp narrowing of his eyes, his hands gripping you harder.

“Baby I haven’t seen or touched you in months, I’m planning on calling you out of work sick tomorrow,” he jokes, though, the thought does strike him as actually a good idea. You laugh, and for a moment he feels slightly light headed because of it.

When he regains himself again, he drops his lips back to yours slowly and maybe a little too hotly, but he doesn’t regret it. “Come on,” he says eventually, tugging you from against the wall, but keeping the line of your body flush to his. “Let's go to bed baby.”

–

You wake in the early hours of the morning with a small start. At first you don’t recognise your surroundings, which makes your sleepy brain panic, but a few seconds later, a dim light to your left reminds you of where you are and who you’re with.

You peel your eyes open and find Jake lying next to you, his head resting in his palm as he leans up on his pillow, phone in hand, his brightness turned all the way down you suspect. You wake further upon realising he’s wide awake, and clearly has been for some time, but at feeling you begin to stir, the arm he still has draped around you tightens, like he’s trying to soothe you in your sleep. He looks up from his phone then, and it makes your heart flutter something wild that even when he thinks you’re asleep he’s remaining attentive.

“Shh, close your eyes baby,” he whispers, clearly not realising you were fully conscious now. You shuffle closer though, curling into his side, and using the opportunity to take him in fully. Jake always looked beautiful, and you aren’t shocked to discover he was even more so at this hour of the day, with his hair completely mussed from your earlier making out, and his features totally relaxed in a way you’re almost certain you’ve never seen before.

“Why’re you awake?” you ask with a yawn. Jake sighs and runs his hand up and down your back a few times.

“Did I wake you up?” he replies, frowning. You shake your head and stifle another yawn.

“What’re you doin’?” you try again. Jake puts his phone down, tucking it under his pillow.

“Lookin’ up mattresses,” he tells you, pulling you in closer, so you’re facing one another. Neither of you raise your voices above a whisper, and despite everything that has happened tonight, this moment feels more intimate than anything else.

“Jake, I wasn’t bein’ serious!” you faux-scold, but he only shrugs. His hand brushes absently over your spine again, and you’re once again surprised by just how touchy Jake has been since his return.

Before he left, the two of you had been out together a whole three times, only two dates of which had ended in brief, but breathtaking kisses, but despite that, you’d initially been a little surprised when he’d told you he was leaving for the better part of a year, and then proceeded to ask for your contact information. To be perfectly honest, you’d expected Jake to break up with you, not somewhat flusteredly explain to you that emails were the best form of regular contact at sea, and ask if it were okay if maybe he sent you some.

You reach a hand up and smooth down some of his hair. Jake leans into you and closes his eyes.

“The springs in this thing could kill someone,” he whispers, shuffling so that his knee slots between yours. “And if my bunk on the carrier is more comfortable, then I definitely need to upgrade.”

You watch him closely. Usually, in the past, you’d had trouble telling whether or not Jake was being honest with you, but for some reason right now you have absolutely zero doubt he was lying.

You suppress your smile, but only because if your emails over the last eight and half months had taught you anything, it was that Jake found it hard sometimes to be vulnerable just for the sake of it, and often hid it under the guise of other thingsv. You don’t believe him about finding his carrier bunk more comfortable, but you understand this is his way of making room for you, asking you in his own way to stay, much like his asking for your email had been all those months ago now.

Jake shifts and peeks one eye open at you.

“Maybe we can go to the store tomorrow,” he says lightly. You hum, and try not to give your insight away.

“The weekend perhaps? I don’t finish until late tomorrow,” you tell him, only for his head to begin shaking.

“Nope, not working tomorrow,” he insists, at last opening both his eyes when you can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, you were being serious!” you laugh, just as Jake draws you closer, so his breath ghosts over your lips teasingly.

“I won’t be so tired in the morning… and maybe you can help me test out the new mattress.” his voice is low and sends a thrill down your spine at his implication.

“Well, I can’t let you test it out on your own…” you concede, just as he leans in and presses a kiss to your jaw, shaking his head.

“After eight months of ‘testing it on my own’, that would just be cruel.”

You can't help but laugh, scrunching up your nose and lightly smacking his chest. Jake grins, and kisses another spot along your jaw, higher this time, making you barely suppress a shiver. He chortles to himself and adjusts his positioning to wrap an arm around you. You settle in against his chest and for a few minutes the two of you just lay in comfortable silence.

“I want you to be comfortable here,” Jake whispers eventually, making you pull back a little to look up at him. He’s still referencing your much earlier comment about his old mattress, but you really had been mostly joking.

“As long as you’re here, I will be.” you tell him in just as quiet of a whisper. Jake shuffles, and shifts his eyes away from you, to look somewhere over your head.

“But I’m not always here…” he says even quieter than before, still not looking at you. You want to question why you would be at his house when he was away, but it strikes you then, that perhaps in the future, that's exactly what he wants.

You pull back even more, but only so you can cup his cheeks and force him to look back down at you. Kissing his lips briefly, you lean in and brush the tip of his nose with yours.

“Then let's go mattress shopping in the morning.”

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