#first time finishing something in a. Long time

[3amfanfiction]

For the worms: Johnny prescribing to the idea “sharing is caring” when his newest girlfriend makes it past the two months mark (something previously thought impossible), don’t worry guys, it’s not “my girlfriend” she’s “our girlfriend”

Oh Temp you know the way to my heart. I love a good 'our girlfriend' moment. There's something so delicious about the entitlement of it, it lends a certain flavor that tickles my fancy. poly 141 x fem!reader. 7k words about (unknowingly) being the team's girlfriend. This is nothing but smut, enjoy!

~~~~

He knew you were the one the first time he met you.

You got him, in ways no one else ever had. You got his energy, his excitement, his need for stimulation. He knew he could be a lot but he also knew he'd never been too much. He'd just been waiting for someone like you.

He never listened when the guys wanted to dog on him saying no one would put up for long with how much he talked. He was a chatty guy, okay? He had a lot of thoughts running through his head and he wanted to share them with people. You never knew which thoughts were going to be strokes of genius until they're spoken after all.

And while he would talk about anything under the sun, he talked about his team most of all. Probably more than he should if he was being completely honest but it was hard not to talk about the people he loved. He was talking about you to them just as much after all. The two halves of his life overlapping as often as he could make them.

But you loved it. You loved him. It was obvious every time you told him to make sure he ate lunch as he was headed out the door, lunch bag swinging from his hand, bursting with goodies you'd packed up the night before. Every time you texted him first, took his trash with yours to throw away, brushed your hand down his arm in greeting, always winding up with your fingers tangled together as he pulled you in for a kiss. Your whole existence showed how much you loved him.

It was fate. It was perfect. It was another sign it was meant to be that it was your 2-month anniversary when you broke the news to him as you were walking him to the door one morning. He'd stayed over the night before because he knew he was going to be working late tonight so you both celebrated one day early. And what a celebration it had been. He'd stolen his three kisses at the door and was getting ready to step over the threshold when he realized just how big your heart was and the fact that you truly were listening whenever he spoke.

"Tell your team I said hi," you said, smiling sweetly up at him, sleep shirt rumpled and hair a gorgeous mess, "there's extra muffins for everyone in your bag."

Oh.

He hadn't realized—but that was okay—he should've noticed—poor lass, had he not been holding up his side of the relationship? The part where you support your partner and their needs and wants? He hadn't seen what you wanted but he understood now. You'd made your feelings known and who was he to stand in the way?

Beaming down at you he peppered your face with kisses, holding your cheeks firmly between his wide palms. Words broken up with the showering of kisses, "I'll tell them love, don't you worry—I'll tell them."

Best anniversary ever.

—

You were pleased with how your day had gone. You'd spent it picking up the house, doing a grocery run, you spent a good few hours on your hobby, and started on a dinner that would get you through lunches for the rest of the week. Your day left you feeling good so you threw on your comfiest t-shirt and sleep shorts combo and camped out on the sofa while dinner finished in the oven.

It startled you when you heard a key being inserted into your lock but you were reassured when you heard Johnny's voice on the other end. You weren't sure how he managed to talk his way into getting a key to your house so quickly but he had a way of lovingly worming his way into any opening you left. He had nearly convinced you to move in with him just last week before you realized what he was doing and put a stop to it. The man had a golden tongue.

In more ways than one.

You popped up over the couch to say hi when you were met with more than just your boyfriend. Another person stood looming at his back, dwarfing the man who made you feel small. You weren't sure what face you were making as you looked up at them, unsure of what was going on but not immediately worried. Johnny had told you enough stories that you were able to clock the man standing with him almost immediately.

"Love, this is Simon."

Right on the money.

"He's come for dinner. The other two were jealous they were gonna miss out on your cooking but they had prior plans. Just know they'd be here if they could."

What? Why was he making it sound like a hallmark moment? You tilted your chin up for a kiss as he came over to the couch, holding still while he cupped your face and pressed his hungry mouth to yours. You pulled away abashed at the racy kiss in front of company. Putting your hand to Johnny's face when it was clear he was coming in for a second go you addressed them both.

"I didn't realize either of you were coming for dinner." Your voice dropped to a whisper, "Johnny! I'm not even dressed."

"You look perfect love," he assured, looking over your outfit. "Besides, it's only Simon. And I've seen you in less. Much less." He leered at you with a smarmy smile and you couldn't help but laugh. He had a point, and you were decent, just a little rattier than you'd prefer when meeting someone for the first time. Hopefully Simon wouldn't hold it against you.

You climbed off the couch and went to greet your guest before moving to the kitchen, calling out to Johnny to set the table and get drinks ready. You hadn't planned on feeding anyone other than yourself tonight but with a creative side dish or two you had enough to go around. You'd just need to find something else for lunch but that was a problem for tomorrow. For tonight you had people to feed and you wouldn't let them go hungry.

By the time dinner was over you had a new appreciation for your boyfriend's teammate. While not particularly verbose he wasn't shy about making his opinions known. And his opinions seemed to be overwhelmingly positive.

"That was the best meal I've had in ages, dove."

You felt your cheeks heat as you smiled at him, "Thank you, Simon. It's one of my favorite dishes, I'm glad you liked it."

You looked over to see Johnny beaming as he looked back and forth between the two of you, happy as a clam to see you getting along so well. He looked like he was mentally patting himself on the back at the successful dinner. Like he had orchestrated something that was finally coming to fruition. It would be worrying if you didn't know your boyfriends penchant for good naturedly dipping his fingers into things. Nothing to do but wait and see what scheme he was cooking up in his brain.

—

You had piled the last dish into the sink when Johnny came up and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing along your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine at the unexpected touch, goosebumps popping up all along your arms before you relaxed back into him.

He was warm—heat radiating off him in waves as he pulled you to stand in front of him, turned to face him with a smile. He grinned back at you, overjoyed at having your attention.

Raising your arms you looped them around his neck, pressing close as you leaned up for a proper kiss. For all that he had sprung company on you, you were happy to see him and you had missed him today. You'd quickly found that he carved a niche out for himself, wiggling into your psyche like he belonged and conforming it around him. Now when he was gone you were left staring at an empty hole that used to be filled.

Your thoughts were pleasantly scattered, a warm contented haze settled over your mind when you felt another body slide up behind you.

You yanked your head away from Johnny only for the back of it to thud against Simon's shoulder, him penning you in between the two of them. Your felt a little like those sheep you saw in videos, held in place by a machine while they were manipulated to their owners liking. You tilted your head with a frown, trying to push back on him or away from Johnny, whichever would get you a little bit of space.

"What are you doing?"

You froze as one thick arm curled around your waist, big hand spread wide over the pudge of your stomach while the other snaked its way up your torso. He gripped your chin firmly from behind, moving you to face Johnny once more.

"Don't stop now, it was just getting good."

Johnny didn't hesitate for a moment to dive back down and press his lips to yours once more, moaning into your mouth and humping his hips forward subconsciously. You tried to turn your head to catch your breath but Simon kept you still, holding you trapped in the heady spill of Johnny's tongue and lips as they devoured yours.

You were limp by the time he eventually pulled back, a panting mess with spit-slicked lips and blown-out eyes. You looked up at him with your mind reeling until you felt another set of lips making their home on the column of your neck.

You flinched . . . or you tried to. You didn't get far with how Simon was pinning you back against his body. You turned worried eyes up towards Johnny, sure this was about to set him off, maybe start an argument about boundaries and how you were with him, Simon wasn't allowed to swan in and start taking liberties for himself.

Instead what you saw was Johnny's pupils eclipsing his irises as he strove to burn the image into his retinas. Greedy want was present in every line of his face as he watched his teammate kiss along his girlfriend's neck. That look mixed in with the shock of teeth Simon had just introduced caused you to let out a ragged gasp, filling the quiet kitchen air with your sound.

"Fuck LT," Johnny croaked, "Just like that."

"Johnny, what—" your voice wobbled as you squirmed in place—Simon finding every sensitive spot along your neck with ease. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, lass. When you told me this morning . . . I hadn't realized this was something you were wanting. I didn't see it." He looked contritely down at you, eyes flickering over to where Simon was pressing hot, wet kisses just behind your ear before darting back to yours, "But we're here now. All of us—as a team."

"I don't understand, I never said I wanted thi-IS." You ended on a yelp as the man at your back took the tip of your ear between his teeth and pinched. You swatted back at him, pushing against his forehead as he chuckled. It was almsot mean, like he liked the sound of your squeal.

"Settle down," he smirked, releasing your ear after a moment, holding it long enough to drive home that he was releasing you of his own will. "no need to cause a commotion. Like he said, we're here now."

The to stay was heavily implied by the weight of his words.

Before you knew it Johnny had leaned down once more, taking your mouth in his while Simon made headway on covering every inch of your neck with his teeth and tongue. It was a whirlwind. Groping hands slid under clothing to pull them off while trailing kisses on every new bit of cleared skin as they urged you to the bedroom. By the time you were sprawled back on the center of the mattress you'd been stripped as bare as the day you were born. Limbs akimbo. Chest heaving with gasped breaths. Unsure how you ended up here.

You watched the two men finish removing the last of their clothes before they crawled in with you, bodies pressing a wash of hot skin to yours, causing you to arch into the sensation. Simon took possession of your mouth while Johnny dove headfirst between your legs.

Your gasp at the first long stroke of his tongue along your seam was all the opening Simon needed. Caught between the double sensation of tongues, it was no surprise you quickly became a panting mess. You attempted to keep your hips from hitching but it was a losing battle, your body's instinctive reaction to get closer to the source of euphoria.

Meanwhile Simon had coaxed your tongue into his mouth and was nibbling and sucking on it in turns, your jaw cradled in his wide palm, tilting you exactly as he wanted. When you pulled your tongue back into your own mouth he took that as leave to begin tracing your lips with the point of his, dipping just inside to take sips at your mouth. Acting as if you were something to be savored. Enjoyed.

He reached down to pinch at your nipples, tugging them into hard peaks only to soothe them with his thumb when you complained. The first time you pulled away with a yip he pressed apologizing kisses down your neck and collar, ending at the abused nipple to take it into his mouth. He laved the sensitive flesh, whispering sweet words into your soft skin.

"Sorry, pretty girl, didn't mean to be so rough." Kisses and light nips with his teeth. How were his kisses so good? "We'll start gentle, yeah? Only soft touches for you tonight."

Moving back up to your mouth once more, he held you still while Johnny had you moaning, keeping your mouth fused to his, not letting you pull away for a single breath. You had to suffice yourself with stealing air when you could, an endless battle between your need to breathe and Simon's consuming kisses. You were lightheaded and woozy by the time you were able to properly pull away.

Drinking down greedy gasps of oxygen—anything to stop your swirling head. You looked down your body to see Johnny perched between your thighs, his bright blue eyes visible as he looked up at you from the cradle of your hips, paused to watch the two of you with adoration. You reached a free hand down to grab his hair, holding him in place and grinding your cunt against his mouth. Your fist clenched tightly as he went back to eating with gusto.

It was impossible for you to stay still, continuously squirming and humping your hips up into his face, chasing your high. Simon reached down and pressed a firm hand to your pelvis, pinning you in place.

"Don't you know how to keep our girl still? Do you let her squirm like this whenever I'm not here?" At Johnny's broken protest he scoffed, "Christ, I knew you needed direction, Johnny boy, but I never realized it was this bad."

Johnny muffled his dissenting keen into your wet heat at his words, humping down onto the mattress like he was the one unable to stay still. Simon looked at you and grinned meanly.

"Well, doll? How about it? Does he give you what you need or does he let you walk all over him?"

You were unable to do anything but shake your head in negation, no verbal response forthcoming. Simon turned to look down at Johnny once more.

"Well? Do I need to show you how to do it properly?" He cocked an eyebrow as he looked down his nose when Johnny drew back from your warmth, separating to draw in a few deep breaths, "It doesn't look like you know what you're doing down there." Simon reached down and palmed the back of Johnny's head, pushing him further into your cunt. "Get a good taste. I wanna see drool dripping down your chin by the time you're done. You should have slick up to your ears and she should be drenched down to the bedsheets." He ignored both of your moans, "Didn't realize I'd have to order you around in the bedroom too, just an unruly little pup, aren't you?"

The constant flow of words from his lieutenant only caused Johnny to become more fervored. Licking into you with abandon, he shifted to free one hand, moving up to press two fingers all the way to the knuckles in one fell swoop. Your wetness ensuring he slid in with no difficulties, a smooth glide with only the stretch to betray the insertion.

You couldn't help the moan that slipped out. A great climbing thing that started deep in your chest and worked its way out of your throat with a rumble. It was the work of moments for you to be right on the edge standing at the precipice, looking down onto your first orgasm of the night.

"There we go Johnny, you've got it now. That's just what she needed, huh? Needed a couple of fingers stuck up into her, something to squeeze. We can help her out with that."

Listening to Simon continue to rumble filth into the air and watching him lean down to press his mouth to Johnny's ear, whispering murmured words you couldn't make out was all you needed for that final push.

The heat that had been steadily building coalesced in your lower back and thighs, the visual of the two of them all the spark you needed to set it alight. Your toes curled and your back arched as you tried to get closer to where Johnny was sucking on your clit with pursed lips. A sobbed Johnny! all you were able to verbalize through the onslaught.

Coming back to yourself you were met with Johnny and Simon watching you with avarice, greedy for every expression that crossed your face. You focused on Johnny and saw an absolutely drenched face. He heard what Simon had said about slick from ear to ear and had made sure to accomplish it. Order received and all that. You would be mortified if you didn't feel so good.

You were limp as they moved to rearrange you, Simon sliding in behind your back as Johnny moved to kneel between your thighs, hard cock bobbing in the air. You felt Simon's wet head kissing the small of your back and tried to grind back—give him some sort of satisfaction in this ménage à trois you had happening.

He reached down to snag your hips, stilling you and pressing his mouth directly to your ear, hot air brushing the sensitive skin as he murmured, "None of that now. My turn will be later, we're focusing on Johnny this time."

And focus on Johnny you did. He shuffled himself forward, wasting no time in sinking home into your wet heat. Dual groans punched out of both of your chests as he fully seated himself in one go. You panted—breathing through the stretch as he did the same, trying to stop himself from reaching the finish line prematurely.

Simon didn't wait for you to regain your composure, he held two fingers up to your mouth tapping on your lower lip, "Suck pet," before he dragged them down to your clit, circling the puffy bundle of nerves still sensitive from Johnny's prior ministrations. He picked up a steady rhythm as Johnny gave the first tentative thrust. You couldn't help but clench down, enjoying the hitched moan it pulled out of him.

He recovered quickly and set out to pull those same moans from you, wanting every sound that dripped from your lips. He was relentless in his chase, making sure to use all the tips and tricks he'd picked up over the last couple of months to wring out every iota of satisfaction he could. He leaned forward, pinning Simon's hand between your bodies.

"Tell us how it feels, love," he panted into your mouth, pressing bruising kisses to your lips. "How good is my cock making you feel?"

Try as you might, you couldn't do more than chant his name, a steady stream of Johnny falling from your tongue. He was consuming your every thought, everything bound up in a tangled snarl that was added to with each slick glide of his cock.

Simon pulled his fingers away from your clit but didn't move his hand, keeping it pinned as he reached further down to do something to Johnny. All you were witness to was the way his eyes went wide and unfocused, a little furrow making its appearance on his brow as he paused and pressed into Simon's hand. He let out a sharp yip at whatever Simon was doing before finally moving back, giving the other man room to return to strumming your clit unimpeded.

You were caught between the push and pull of the two of them. Simon resting at your back to whisper lewd words directly into your brain while Johnny made his home inside of you, carving out a space that would always remember him.

It was overwhelming.

You normally turned into a pile of putty with only Johnny's hands on you. Now that there were two of them? You felt like you never knew where the next touch would come from. You would only just find a way to breathe with the circling of your clit for hands to suddenly make their appearance at your nipples. Come to terms with fingers at your nipples just to feel teeth latch onto your neck. They kept you guessing with each movement.

Johnny was doing an admirable job of building you towards your next peak, soft rolls of his hips stroking every sensitive spot inside of you, but apparently it wasn't enough for Simon.

"Hitch her hips up, Johnny. I want you fucking her like you mean it." He stared Johnny down, "If you can't put your back into it then I can relieve you."

"I know how to do it," Johnny sniped back, "Don't forget, I've been in her bed a lot longer than you have." You jolted, unused to having such a harsh tone in your house, let alone in your bed.

Simon saw your jerk and quipped back, "Behave, pup. I won't have you barking and growling around our girl." Simon slid out from behind you, laying you gently back on the pillows with one lingering kiss before coming around to Johnny's side. "Now are you going to listen to what I say or do you need me to step in?"

Johnny chewed on his words, still slowly pumping into you with soft propels of his hips. For a moment you were certain he was going to push back, to dig his feet in and argue with every word that came out of Simon's mouth. Your boyfriend was sweet, but not exactly levelheaded. It surprised you when he came to a decision and listened to what he was being told. You'd have to sneak aside later and get tips and tricks from Simon before he left. Anything to make your life a little easier.

Taking your hips he stuffed a pillow underneath, angling you upwards as he slid back inside. Your matching moans at the new position caused something almost gleeful to cross Simon's expression.

"There we go, I knew you had it in you to mind. You just needed someone bigger to put you in your place, didn't you?"

Johnny had no rebuttal beyond the stuttering of his hips at the comment, swallowing heavily before resuming his rhythm. The steady thwaps filled the humid air of the bedroom, playing background to your whines, Johnny's harsh pants and Simon's filth.

"There we go, just like that," he murmured, voice low and soft, "You're taking it so well sweetheart, is our boy doing a good job for you?"

"Yes," you panted, eager to agree to anything as long as they didn't stop, "So good."

"You hear that Johnny? Said you're doing a good job."

Johnny outright whimpered at the praise, hips stuttering and breath catching in his throat. Simon leaned over Johnny's shoulder and pressed his lips right against his ear. You watched his jaw move as he spoke—voice too low to make out any of the words. Johnny's face was a rictus of pleading pleasure. His expression frozen except for small twitches of his eyebrows, gaze shuttered and staring at your face as he panted. He lasted a few more thrusts before burying himself deeply with a low cry.

Simon laughed scornfully, "Ah poor Johnny boy, did you come already?" He listened to Johnny's overstimulated whine as he grabbed his hips and kept Johnny pushing into you, the wet squelch only proving that he was fucking his spend deeper inside. "Well I don't care if it's too much. You came before our girl, we can't have that." He gave a mean smile, "you're gonna keep fucking her until I tell you to quit."

"I—I can't Simon," Johnny panted, overstimulated nerves causing his muscles to spasm and twitch. "I can't go anymore."

"You want to stop? Then ask me nicely. Go ahead," Simon taunted, a wicked grin curving along his mouth, "Beg."

It was exactly the right wrong thing to say. You watched as Johnny's mouth fell open and his head tilted back, shiny tears springing up along his waterline to spill out from the corners as you felt another warm wave of heat inside. His second orgasm seemed to wring every bit out of him—his face locked in a pained grimace.

He tried to jerk backwards, tried to pull his hips from yours but Simon wasn't having it. He dug his fingers tightly into your hips, arms wrapped around either side of Johnny's waist and pressed firmly against his back, pinning Johnny between the two of you and not giving the whimpering man an inch of space.

"I told you, you're not done until she comes." Using his own hips he helped propel Johnny into you, helping you move to grind on Johnny's dick at the end of each thrust. "You know what you need to do to finish this."

"Please," the other man burst out, unable and willing to withhold any longer, "Please, Simon, need your help. Need you to help me." Tears continued rolling down his cheeks.

"That's all I needed, sweet boy."

Moving one of his hands he dropped his thumb onto your clit after swiping up along your slit, pausing to tease right beneath the head of Johnny's cock on a pullback just to hear him whimper again. With the slick pressure rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves combined with the relentless fucking and stunning visual you were falling apart within moments.

Light burst behind your eyes and your ears started ringing. You knew you were clenching tightly around Johnny's cock but you were unable to spare the thought to see what he looked like as you came. You fell back into your body as the sensations died down, literally falling back onto the bed where you had been arched so sharply only your shoulders were still touching.

As you became aware of your surroundings you watched Simon allow Johnny to pull back, both of you whining at the sensation of him pulling out completely. He flopped to one side of the bed while his chest heaved like bellows, a ruddy flush covering his face and chest. Shiny sweat lined his brow, glistening in the dim evening light.

You didn't have time to rest or take in your boyfriend for long before you were grabbed by the hips, Simon's fingers digging into your plush sides as he pulled you into a position he liked.

Your legs were thrown over his forearms before you realized it, feet dangling in the air and hands coming up to grasp onto his shoulders. As he leaned forward you acutely realized how powerless you were, pinned completely beneath his bulk, no leverage to be seen to get you out.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your own heaving chest causing your pebbled nipples to brush up against his torso, teasing little flicks of sensation to add to everything running through your body.

He notched himself at your entrance with a groan, swiping back and forth, coating the head in your wetness. Finding an angle he liked, he began pushing in.

You whimpered at the burn as he stretched you, even still after Johnny had just had you. You shuddered thinking about taking him without being stretched first, likely a harrowing undertaking. He continued rocking back and forth with small thrusts, each one inching deeper and deeper. Each withdraw causing more of both yours and Johnny's come to escape.

"I know it's a lot, but you can take it. All the way in, all the way to the back, sweetheart."

It knocked the breath out of your lungs when he seated himself inside. A heavy weight felt through your pelvis as his length pried apart muscle to make room for itself. You were afraid you'd feel him inside for the rest of your life. Another gaping chasm when he wasn't there.

It took him the space of a few heartbeats to get situated before he began to move with rhythm, a strong, steady roll of his hips knocking you up the bed with each drive.

Whatever remaining thoughts you might have had spilled out your ears. Nothing able to penetrate the fog he was putting you in with his movements. Your brain became a haze—no worries, no fears—nothing but the feelings he was stoking inside you.

Each time he slid in full you felt him kiss your cervix at the back of your channel. The quick pinch only increasing the pleasure you felt. The mix of the two giving gradients that weren't usually seen, hues bursting behind your eyelids at the sensation.

Proportionately large, he touched every soft spot inside of you simultaneously, a constant wave of endorphins flooding your brain and leaving you a gibbering mess. You clawed at him looking for purchase but unable to find any, inescapably swept away in his tide.

How did you end up here? Under the body of your boyfriends best friend. Because he was his best friend, no matter that Simon would never verbalize it. They were two sides of a coin—better together.

You let your head flop to the side, looking at Johnny passed out and half hanging off the bed on the far side, snuffling breaths a steady back-drone to the slap of skin on skin from you and Simon. You were out of your mind with pleasure, brain unable to spark two neurons together to come up with a thought. It was all white noise to you, unable to focus on anything other than the sensations Simon was drawing from your body.

That was why it was so jarring when two more bodies made their presence known standing beside you on the bed, wide shoulders blocking out the light leaving them draped in shadows.

You let out a huff of a startled scream, no breath in your lungs to get proper volume when hands came up to tweak your nipple and tuck your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

Simon gave a rumbling groan as all your muscles clenched and you bucked up in fear, tossing your head to try and get them off of you. You started to whimper and bat haphazardly at their hands trying to pull yourself away from Simon at the same time but the grip he had on your hips didn't allow you to go anywhere.

"Shh," he gentled, "you're okay, nothing here's gonna hurt you, sweet girl." He never slowed his thrusts, "It's just the rest of the team. That's Gaz and that's the captain." Bone-jarring thuds as his pelvis met the fat of your backside, sharp slap slap slaps echoing through the room.

"What?" you stammered, "I—I thought that—"

"Didn't think we'd let anything happen to you, did you?" he asked with furrowed brows, "Let something happen to our girl?" he scoffed in amusement. "Try again."

Oh. That's—that wasn't—you weren't—

But you couldn't verbalize any of your thoughts. You'd thought you'd been at the end of your stamina before but these two men brought fresh energy to the bedroom. Looking at both of them you recognized Kyle and John from all of Johnny's stories.

"Have you been taking good care of our girl, Simon?"

"Yes sir, Johnny gave her two and I'm working towards a third."

"Good man."

With the team complete the dynamic subtly changed. Where before it had been Simon giving the orders, he now defaulted to his captain, happy to let him take the lead as he directed Kyle and Simon to his own beat.

It was the work of minutes for John and Kyle to strip each other and climb into the crowded bed to join you.

You were too fucked out to muster any proper response so you let them move you as they pleased, content to be a doll placed into the perfect position.

Kyle moved to cuddle up to you up near your face, the cut of his abs all you could focus on for a second before you dragged your gaze up to his face. He smiled down at you charmingly, perched up on an elbow to hover over you, ensuring he was all you could see for a moment.

"We've heard so much about you," he murmured, holding his smile while looking gorgeous enough to stop your heart. "I can't believe we're finally all here together."

Heard so much about you? What had Johnny been telling them? What had he been sharing about your personal life to his team that they thought this was normal? You didn't get a chance for the thoughts to make more than a fleeting impression before they were gone again—the finger on your clit requiring your full attention.

You looked down past Kyle to see John with a hand between your thighs, stroking at the bud before dipping down to gather the wetness that was still being pulled out of you by Simon who hadn't paused. He ran his fingers along where you two joined, dampening his fingertips before resuming his stroking. You couldn't keep still at the sensation, legs jerking and jumping as your nervous system tried to make heads or tails of what was happening to it.

He made short work of coaxing you back into another orgasm, sparks lighting up behind your eyelids as you convulsed, squeezing Simon between your legs and gripping the hand that Kyle had threaded through yours for dear life. Your hips stuttered in their movement, caught between chasing the last sparks of pleasure and pulling away from the steadily overwhelming sensations John was easing out.

It was a relief when he pulled away, letting you begin making headway in catching your breath once more. You watched him reach up with his slick hand to clasp Simon by the back of the neck.

"All right, my boy, now for you."

Simon took this as all the permission he needed to chase his own end with a vengeance. He rutted into you with no finesse, using you for his own gratification as he allowed himself the orgasm he had been denying. It took no time at all before he sunk as deeply as possible, holding there as he emptied himself into you. You felt the heat of him filling you, his cock acting like a stopper keeping it all tucked tight and high inside your channel.

When he eventually pulled back a wave of fluid came with him, dripping down to the bed and coating your thighs. You couldn't do more than gasp—still working on catching your breath. Your head flopped over to look at Kyle, holding your hand clenched in his. He smiled at you and came in for a kiss.

At this point you didn't even think of turning your head away. You simply laid there and let him into your mouth, this man who you technically hadn't even met but who you felt like you'd known for years. All of Johnny's stories doing a wonderful job of painting these three men in such a way you were sure you'd met them a hundred times before.

Kyle's kiss was all consuming. He masterfully played with your lips and tongue, keeping you chasing him while he devoured you. It was wet and obscene and so, so good. He tasted faintly of peppermint, remnants of gum or a mint he had chewed earlier. It had you searching the corners of his mouth, looking for his flavor.

He smiled into the kiss before pressing two quick pecks to your lips and pulling back, giving you space to think. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been fucked six ways from Sunday," you managed, cueing a round of laughter from the three men. By now you'd caught your breath and were watching them with wide eyes, waiting to see what they'd do next. Simon had moved to sit over next to Johnny as John patted at your hip.

"Do you think you have one more in you or are you calling it?" he asked, looking unbothered by what your answer might be. Like he knew this wasn't the only time he'd have you in this position and being lenient was no trouble.

You nodded your head firmly, "I can keep going."

"Atta girl."

You felt your face heat at those words as your gaze darted away, embarrassed at how much you liked it. Even while you were spread out bare for them to view this felt like a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse of something too personal to make light of. You had a feeling you could climax from him whispering those words in your ear with his deep rumble at just the right time.

Without a doubt John realized what effect his words had on you if his amused grin was any indication. Thankfully he let it be, not calling attention to your expression. You didn't know he was shelving the thought until later; he had no intention of not pursuing the lead.

Helping you up he turned you so you were on your hands and knees facing Kyle with John's heat radiating into the back of your thighs. He checked in with an Okay, sweetheart? which you reassured him on before he pressed close as Kyle shuffled forward. Slotting his hips into yours he dragged his leaking cock through the mess between your thighs, the damp head bumping against your clit in a tease with each thrust.

"We've heard a lot about you," John noted, trailing a hand along your spine, enjoying the feel of smooth, soft skin. "Soap has practically talked our ears off since you met. Along with how amazing you are, he makes sure to tell us how pretty you are and how nice you smell." You felt him leaning over you and pressing his nose to the crown of your head, "I've gotta say, he was right on all accounts."

A shudder worked its way down your spine at the praise.

Pulling back, he lined himself up with your opening and slid inside in one smooth stroke. As your mouth dropped open to moan Kyle tapped the tip of your tongue with his cock, encouraging you to stick it out for him. He pressed inside when you did and you groaned deep in your throat at his flavor, salt and musk invading your nose as he cupped your head gently between his two palms, holding you steady.

You thought you had been done before, no longer able to continue, to ride the wave of ecstasy any more. They proved you wrong with their wandering hands tweaking nipples and strumming your clit.

It felt like it had been years and minutes both as they bounced you between the two of them. You would grow accustomed to the shape of Kyle in your throat only for John to pull you back, rearranging your organs with the strength of his thrusts.

You didn't know which way was up, your only concern was timing your breaths to Kyle's thrusts, keeping your teeth tucked away from any sensitive skin. Hollowing your cheeks you fought to keep suction, John doing his level best to ensure you couldn't find a comfortable rhythm.

The whole time you were spinning tighter and tighter. A wave building down deep behind your bellybutton, fed with each thrust from the two men. Your body welcoming them in.

The wave continued to build, higher and higher. Larger than you'd ever thought possible. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying in equal measures.

What was going to become of you when it crashed? Were you going to be able to be put back together or would you be destined to live out your life as shattered remains, always thinking back to the last night you'd been whole, the last night you hadn't needed others to hold you together like Kintsugi.

John continued thrusting behind you, never stopping, never faltering. He was relentless and driven and you were the finish line he had set his eyes on. You were the end goal that he would see through, come hell or high water.

It sparked something dark deep within your psyche. Something decadent.

Your last climax of the night rolled over you. Starting down low in your abdomen it grew and grew, fed into by each of the men that you had let into your bed tonight. It became too large to ignore, this gaping maw of want that was flooding your blood and your brain, changing your chemical makeup in its wake. You were pretty sure you screamed.

Both of their pants came harshly now as they fought for some semblance of control beyond the tight clutch of your cunt and throat.

John finished next, stamina no match for the silken glide of your cunt, sucking the oxygen from his blood with each press inside of you. But Kyle was shortly behind him. If you didn't know any better you'd say the sight and sound of his captain coming is what pushed him over the edge.

Certainly something to think about later.

It's comforting hands that helped you lay down once you were done, tucked between Simon and Kyle, Johnny still passed out with his foot and arm draped off the side. You were curled into Kyle's chest as you watched John pull on a pair of boxers.

"I'll go get us some water and towels, you all stay put."

You were far to exhausted to think of the ramifications of what had happened here tonight. Instead you were content to curl into warm skin and enjoy the feeling of Simon's arm thrown around your waist.

When John came back with the water you had a moment of laughter when you realized the bed was packed full with the four of you currently and there wasn't a spare inch for John to lay down. Instead he went to sit at the foot, tapping Kyle's feet so he would curl his legs up a bit.

"Anybody broken?" He asked, staring at you while he spoke. It was clear he expected you to be the one to voice any discontent.

"Nope," you yawned, crashing hard now that you were laying still, "right as rain."

"Good. We'll talk this all over in the morning sweetheart. For now, sleep."

Kyle kissed your forehead while Simon curled around you tighter. Tomorrow. You could figure it all out tomorrow. That sounded like a wonderful plan considering you were already drifting away to the soft sounds of breathing.

Next

[bahablastplz]

BF! SKZ finding out you've never cum

Pairing: OT8 x Reader Warnings: Explicit content! MDNI WC: 5200

Bang Chan:

“Oh really?” he asks, ears going red. He looks away, staring at the ceiling before glancing back at you. “Never?” you shook your head. He tongues the inside of his cheek and you fidget under his sudden intense gaze. 

“Do you wanna…” you bite your lip, thinking for a moment. “Would you want to help me try?” His eyes go wide for a second before looking at you. 

“You want me to?” he asks, shy. You nod your head and press your thighs together. 

Your boyfriend is hot. There’s no denying that fact, even now as he sits across from you in a black tank top and a pair of grey sweats. Even without trying, he’s effortlessly sexy. Though the relationship is new, you aren’t a stranger to makeout sessions and Chan, well it’s just in his nature to walk around and sleep naked. So, even though this would be your first time… you’ve wanted him. Craved his touch from the first moment he kissed you. So when he asks “Are you sure?” You don’t even hesitate before answering “Yes.” 

He pulls you to his chest. You immediately get chills as you feel his breath on your neck, your back pressed against his front. You can feel the sizeable bulge in his sweats pressed against you and as much as you want to press against it, to turn this onto him, when his hand snakes down your front you throw your head back and focus on the pleasure he’s giving you. His mouth is on your jaw and your neck and long gone is that shy act–you know exactly who you’re dealing with now. The man who isn’t afraid to take his shirt off on stage. The man who shamelessly flirts with Stays. 

“You already look so pretty for me,” he says into your ear. You can tell he’s smiling without looking at him. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already so wrecked for me?” You nod fervently as he hikes your shirt up, revealing you to him. “Say stop at any time,” he tells you with a kiss. The ever-caring lover you’ve fallen in love with, even when at his sexiest can’t not check in with you. He makes you watch every movement, every flick of his hand against your nipples. His warm breath and tongue against your skin, the absolutely filthy words he whispers in your ears when you aren’t looking him in the eyes. 

It feels so natural when his hand connects with your core and you’re already soaking wet. It takes him by surprise and he almost pulls his hands out of your shorts but you close your thighs around him, needy and desperate for his touch. 

“Please,” you say, looking up and blinking at him. You can tell a comment is on the tip of his tongue, something about you being so wet or needy for him but you silence him with a kiss. His deft, knobby fingers slide into you then and he smirks, smirks at the effect he has on you. His fingers are long, skillful in the way that every touch is purposeful. He reaches spots that you couldn’t possibly reach with your own fingers and he touches your body as if he has memorized every inch of you already. 

“Chris,” you whine, and that affects him in ways you don’t even know. You can feel him grow even harder behind you and he even ruts his hips into your back, groaning at the friction. He focuses on you though, one hand snaking up to rest on your neck. 

You’re close. You’re close and he knows it and he touches you now with the intent of getting you to finish. He whispers and groans the filthiest shit in your ear until you’re burning up, absolutely flushed from all the things he tells you he wants to do to you. 

You’re not surprised with how little effort it takes for him to push you over the edge. You pulse around his fingers as he keeps the same pace. He made you cum and he didn’t even have to take off your pants. You’re impressed but you know he would never take the compliment, that he would brush it off and turn red as if he didn’t just wreck you. He pulls his fingers from your center once you’ve come down from your high, sticking them into his mouth and moaning around his fingers. 

“God that was hot,” he laughs. 

You throw your arm over your face in embarrassment and he showers your face with kisses. 

His arms tighten around you and he rocks you back and forth, giddy until you’re both a giggling mess. 

Lee Know:

“Ahhh,” he nods. “I see.” He looks at you and where his hands rest underneath your shirt, playing with the hem. He thinks for a moment, biting his lip as he thinks of a way that he can help you without making you uncomfortable. An idea pops in his head and he looks at you and smirks, eyes dark with mischief. 

He spreads his legs then, his muscular thighs straining the fabric of his jeans. You would be blind to not notice the large bulge straining for some relief but he tsks and guides your vision to his face. You go red-hot from being caught staring and he all but coos, grabbing your waist so that you’re straddling one, muscular thigh. 

“Min–” 

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he prefaces and he blows a strand of hair away from his face. God he’s so gorgeous that it’s lethal, knocking your breath out from your chest with one stare. “But, if you want, you can grind your pretty pussy on my thigh. You do all the work and I’ll just watch you, yeah?” 

You feel shy from his gaze all of a sudden and he silences your thoughts with a kiss to your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. He can’t stop his mouth from connecting to your skin, leaving hot wet kisses along your jaw, neck, and ear. When he nibbles on your ear and you feel his hot breath against you, you can’t help it when your hips kick forward desperate to get some friction. 

“That’s it,” he groans. “Just like that.” Tentatively you roll your hips against the fabric again, head lolling back at the delicious friction it causes between your legs. True to his word he lets you do all the work, arms crossed behind his head and eyes heavy as he drinks you in. He smiles a familiar grin that causes you to heat up, one that’s smug but offensively gorgeous. 

You feel spurred on by the look he’s giving you and the feeling between your legs and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips when he tenses his thigh. 

“Fuck, you look good like this,” he says softly. You’re rocking yourself back and forth on him in earnest now, feeling your high start to build up. But you’re sensitive now and you’re starting to lose your rhythm, your hips becoming tired. 

“Min I can’t,” you whine, losing that feeling that had slowly started to build. 

“I gotcha,” he says, grabbing your hips for you. He rocks you back and forth using his own strength, not forgetting to push his thigh harder against your core. He works you back up embarrassingly fast and before you know it you’re spilling over the edge with your back arched and a loud cry. Just as he allows you to slow down he presses a kiss against your lips, breathing in your moans. You slump against his shoulder then and he strokes your back. “Beautiful,” he whispers. 

Changbin: Changbin doesn’t react at all when you tell him. His arms are full of you, who is currently straddling his lap happily. Your makeout session was starting to get a little intense and you could tell that it was likely to escalate–which you had no problem with, but you couldn’t stop the confession from releasing from your lips. 

He stares at you. No acknowledgement whatsoever. You gulp nervously… any reaction would be better than no reaction, you think. 

“Bin?” you ask, breaking his focus. You’re worried that you ruined the mood, suddenly anxious. “Should I not have said that? We can stop,” you say, lifting your hips to get off of him when he grabs your waist, setting you down flush against his hips. 

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “I think… I was flustered.” 

“Huh?”

“That turned me on more than it should have,” he admits with a small smile, staring at the wall next to him. You coo at the blush on his face, his ears turning suddenly red. His bulge pressing into your clothed core further proves his point–he wasn’t lying. You hate to admit how turned on you are now too, his thick cock pressing against you making less-than-pure thoughts run through your head. 

Your lips reattach to his in a messy kiss and your hands are everywhere, feeling his broad, toned pecs, his muscular shoulders, his tummy… You press kisses against his throat, his collarbone, his sternum and you can feel his cock twitch in his sweats. The thought that he’s just as aroused as you are, with your panties probably soaked from your arousal, pushes you even further. You rock yourself against his clothed cock, relishing in the way it presses against your clit just right. The groan he lets out is heavenly, his head thrown back in bliss. This gives you the perfect opportunity to lean forward and bite the junction between his neck and shoulder, sucking a pretty purplish-red mark in its wake.

His hips thrust up on instinct and you whine… This must have been the breaking point, you think, because he grabs your hips so tightly you think they will bruise… and he thrusts his hips up into yours so harshly that you let out a shriek in surprise. 

“Fuck… is this okay?” he asks, looking utterly debauched. You nod, trying to rock your hips in tandem but his grip is too tight–he’s in control. He’s lifted you up off of him a few inches and pistons his hard bulge into your core, the same way he would if he were fucking you. His cock slides deliciously against your clit every time and though you don’t know the feeling, you think your high is starting to build up. 

“Just like that, Bin,” you tell him, scrunching your eyes shut and throwing your head back. 

He growls. “You like that? You like when my cock touches your pretty pussy? You’re soaking me, fuck. I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in my pants you’re so hot, baby.” 

You feel your core start to tighten and his hand tightens in your hair, grabbing your face to push your lips against his in a hard but messy kiss. The second your lips come in contact you start to cum, spasming around nothing as he continues to drill his cock against you. 

It takes only a few seconds for Changbin to cum too, grabbing your hips and holding you tight against his bulge. You feel him pulsing in his pants, thick spurts of his arousal shooting out and soaking the sweats. It’s so erotic and he is a sight to behold when he cums, sweat glistening across his forehead and the veins of his forearms protruding from where he holds you tight. 

When he looks up at you he has the audacity to look sheepish again. You smack his shoulder lightly with a smile. “No need to be shy on me now,” you tease. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your arms slung around his neck. 

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” he chuckles. You answer him with a kiss.

Hyunjin: Hyunjin lets out a gasp as if what you have just told him is heresy. Ever the drama-queen, you have to remind your boyfriend to keep his voice down–you’re in public. You’re not even sure how the topic came up, honestly, and part of you wishes that you had kept this information to yourself. Hyunjin, the man that he is, cannot let you keep anything to yourself. He instantly pries for the details despite your red-hot face. 

“How often have you tried?” he asks, more excited than he should be. “You have tried, right? You just can’t…” you slap a hand over his mouth, looking around you. 

“We can talk about this later,” you hiss. He gives you a giddy smile. You can tell he won’t forget about this. 

Sure enough, he’s back on you the moment you walk through the door. 

“Why do you care so much?” you groan. 

“Because that means I get to help you,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “I get to be your first.” Oh. Oh. Well, maybe you like that idea more than you’re willing to admit. 

“Can I? Would you let me?” 

“Hyune, how would you even–” 

You let out a yelp when he rolls onto your back, rolling you on top of him. 

“You could sit on my face,” he suggests. He must see your hesitation because he calms you down by rubbing your thighs. “Grind your pretty cunt all over my tongue.” 

You squeeze your legs together from where you sit on top of him, ineffective due to Hyunjin’s broad frame below you. 

“Are you sure?” you ask. “It’s just… what if I hurt you? What if you don’t like it, or you can’t breathe–”

“Shh, pretty,” he coos. “It only matters if you like it, but trust me I’ll like it too. I can tap your thigh if I need to breathe. You won’t hurt me, okay? You can go as crazy as you’d like.” 

Reluctantly (and a bit nervously), you agree, rolling off of him to take off your pants. You’re already insanely aroused, embarrassingly so just from seeing the gorgeous man beneath you, rock hard in his pants. As you timidly straddle his face, you’re surprised when he pulls your core right onto his face. 

“Hyunjin!” you cry, jerking up. 

“Relax,” he smiles. “No need to be shy. Actually sit.” He lightly taps your ass and you lower yourself onto him, letting out a sigh when he swipes his tongue through your folds. He moans into your center, mumbling something akin to ‘tastes good’ and you relax. When his tongue circles your clit you think electricity has spread throughout your entire body and you lurch forward, his grip on your thighs unwavering. 

“Shit, Hyune, that feels good,” you tell him, his tongue alternating between sucking and flicking your clit to shallowly fucking your hole. You can’t help but rock back and forth on his face, any inhibitions thrown out the window. He groans and sighs into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself as well. He works you up surprisingly fast and he sticks his tongue out wide, letting you ride it and pleasure yourself on it the way you want. His tongue is warm and wet and feels heavenly against your folds and you grind yourself to a finish, his grip on your hips helping to aid you to your release. 

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, releasing with a pop as he gently licks up your release. You roll off of him and catch your breath, staring at the ceiling in awe. 

“Was it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he asks breathlessly, licking his lips of your arousal. “We’re going to need to do that again,” you laugh incredulously. “Your tongue… no wonder I couldn’t get myself off if that’s what I was missing.” He laughs and rolls on top of you, pressing a long kiss against your lips. He tastes of you and that somehow makes it even better.

Han:

You flush when he makes the suggestion. Mutual masturbation. “I have a hard time… I’ve never been able to make myself finish before, though,” you remind him. 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he says. “But it’ll be hot. And maybe it can help you…”

“But what if you finish first?” you ask him. “Won’t that be… unsexy?” “Unsexy? God no,” he laughs “If anything, I can help you finish after, if you want.” 

“O…Okay,” you agree. The kisses start off messy and you find yourself wanting to wrap your hands around his waist. “No… no touching,” he tells you. “Just kissing. No touching one another’s bodies. It will make it feel better. It will be sexier if we can just… watch.” You agree with him. The wet, sloppy kisses come to an end with a string of saliva connecting you too. You watch intently as he palms himself through his sweats, grabbing his length with a groan. 

“You make me so hard, baby,” he tells you. You feel entranced, lifting up your shirt and playing with your chest as he watches. You grope yourself, teasing your nipples while your gaze never leaves his, the way his eyes stare at you and each movement has you unknowingly biting your lip. 

He pulls his sweats down and palms himself through his underwear before stroking his cock through the fabric, hissing at the friction. Feeling bold, you free yourself of your underwear and move so that he can get a better view. His eyes look so wide and full of lust as he finally frees his cock and starts touching himself properly. He was right. It was erotic for sure. You couldn’t help how turned on you felt as you touched yourself, shallowly fucking yourself with one finger as he watches. He’s beautiful. This is a fact you have always known but right now, as he fists his cock and his hips jump up to meet his hand you can’t help but admire how beautiful, his brows furrowed and eyes struggling to remain watching you. 

This is the first time you’ve properly seen one another without clothes on, and while you have had a few intense makeout sessions and heavy petting, you have yet to go this far. You can’t say you regret it when his whines are so perfect, his neediness as he throws his head back and touches himself with such a vice grip. 

“You’re so hot,” you tell him and he moans. 

You fuck yourself even harder on your fingers, trying to bring yourself close to the edge. He watches when you start squelching around your fingers, so wet that the sound is borderline obscene. You can tell he’s close even though you’re struggling, but you swear you have never been closer to orgasm than when you saw Jisung cum all over himself, shooting his release on his stomach with a cry of your name. Your fingers speed up and you’re still not sure if you’re close, but before you can say anything Jisung crosses the bed. He attaches his lips to your clit without a second thought, his fingers replacing your own. He’s a sight to behold, hair sticking to his forehead and sweat glistening down his toned chest. It takes a few minutes but he doesn’t give up (even though you likely would have by now), he licks and sucks you through your first orgasm. 

“God I could cum again just from that sight,” he admits with a shy chuckle once he lifts his head up from between your legs.

Felix:

It was all because of a stupid card game. Okay, maybe some alcohol was involved too. It was one of those couple’s games and in your newly relationship-state, Felix suggested you play together. A little bit too much wine and a series of giggles and here you were. 

“What is the most amount of orgasms you’ve had in one day?” Felix read the card, a blush spreading across his face. 

“It doesn’t say that,” you laugh, reaching for the card. Sure enough… You let out a sigh. “Truthfully?” you ask. 

“Well–only if you want to,” he backtracks. “You… you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.” 

“No, Lix, it’s fine, it’s just…” you run a hand through your hair, exasperated. “Zero. The answer is zero. I’ve never cum before.” 

“But… you had a boyfriend before me, I thought?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “That doesn’t mean he made me cum.” He looks at you thoughtfully, ultimately deciding to table the conversation. You were grateful. You’re both a little too tipsy and flustered to be having this conversation. You watch a movie and curl up against his chest, game long forgotten as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. *** It’s about a week later when Felix shows up at your door with a suspiciously large package in his hands. You were expecting him for date night but not aware of what he brought with him. 

“What’s that?” you ask. You don’t miss the way his ears turn red. 

“This is for later,” he tells you. “It’s a surprise.” You shrug it off and almost forget about it until after dinner. He brings you into your bedroom and hands you the package. 

“I remembered our conversation from last week,” he admits. “How you said you’ve never… so I bought some things that I thought you could use.” 

“Use? To help me cum?” 

He coughs, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. I just thought… and I don’t even need to be here when you use them, but I thought that you could use some… tools? I don’t know.” 

“Do you want to see me use them, Lix?” you all but purr. He looks at you sheepishly. 

“I wouldn’t say no,” he laughs. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

You open the package, then. A large dildo. A smaller one. A bullet vibrator. Some things you’ve never even seen before. 

“Wow, Felix, this is…” you lift up one of the larger toys to inspect it. “Was this expensive?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you. “It’s an investment.” 

And that’s how you end up spread on your bed, Felix watching from a chair at the end of your bed. 

“I can always take a video,” he suggests. You furrow your brow. “Y’know, that way if you have a hard time finishing, we can watch it back and review and see where it went wrong?”

“Felix I KNOW you did not just suggest having a VOD review of my masturbation session,” you laugh. “I’m not one of your games you know.” He looks away shyly. You acquiesce. “If you want to record… use my phone though.” He looks way too excited as he grabs your phone and props up the camera as you start to play with yourself, fucking yourself with one of the vibrating dildos he bought. It felt really good, and it was just an added bonus that the sexiest man alive was watching you. 

“You can go deeper,” he drawls. You can tell he’s accentuating his deep voice because he knows it turns you on. “Don’t be afraid to really press the end of it against your clit.” The toys worked you up faster than you ever imagined and you squirmed beneath his gaze. Felix stands, bringing the camera even closer to your sopping entrance, really trying to get a good view of the camera. “You’re doing so good,” he tells you. You can’t help it. You cum. The vibrations from the toy, the camera, Felix’s watchful eyes and words… it was all just too much. You writhe through your orgasm until you reach overstimulation, turning off the toy and throwing an arm over your eyes. 

Felix is quick to jump into the bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses. 

“That was… wow,” you tell him. 

“Wanna watch the video?” he asks, voice laced with excitement.

Seungmin:

“Never,” he deadpans. 

“Nope,” you repeat. 

“Well, like, how do you do it?” 

“What do you mean?” you can’t help the blush that spreads across your face. 

“You’re probably doing it wrong,” he explains. “I know you’re not mansplaining to me how to masturbate,” you roll your eyes. 

“No,” he sighs, exasperated. “I’m just saying maybe I can help. It would be easier if you showed me.” 

“Showed you?”

“Don’t be dense, love. Just take your pants off, if you want, and touch yourself in front of me. I can guide you, if you’d like.” 

You were definitely blushing now. 

“Can you kiss me first?” you ask. You don’t know why but you felt like breaking that barrier would make things a little easier. He smiles, pushing his hand through his hair before leaning forward, capturing your lips in his. His hand brushed through your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart you felt a rush of confidence, pulling your pants and panties down to reveal yourself to him. He watches you from the end of the couch with his arms crossed, lips shut tight. 

You let him watch as you trail your hands down to your center, spreading your legs wider when you see him trying to get a better look. You circle your clit with one finger, dipping into your entrance to gather your arousal. You switch between fucking yourself with your finger and circling your clit, no sense of rhythm. Though Seungmin pins you with your gaze and causes your arousal to strengthen, you can’t build yourself up the way you want. You get frustrated. Seungmin takes notice. 

“Lift your shirt up,” he commands. He watches as you hesitate but follow his direction, lifting up your shirt with his heavy gaze. “Use your thumb and pointer finger. Trace your nipples.” You do what he tells you, following his instruction to tease, circle, and pinch your nipples. 

“Use one hand. Wet it with your tongue. Get a lot of spit–yeah, like that. Touch your clit.” He lets out a breath when you release a shaky moan. “Use one hand and circle your clit and use the other hand to touch your pretty nipples. Go back and forth between circling it and flicking it. Figure out what feels better.”

You squirm at the oversensitivity. 

“Seung,” you moan. “Feels good but… can’t you just touch me? I want to feel you.” 

He shakes his head. “No, baby. You need to do it yourself. I want you to know how to make yourself feel good.” You let out a frustrated sigh but continue to follow his direction. 

“Use your other hand now and push it inside. You can start with one finger. Don’t stop the momentum you’ve got on your clit but slowly fuck yourself with one finger. Good. Try curling it.” You can’t deny how good it feels–better than you’ve ever made yourself feel. You notice the bulge in his sweats and you whine. Teasing, you drag your foot up his thigh and try to press against his bulge to get a reaction from him. Before you can though he sighs and grabs your foot, harshly. 

“Don’t try it,” he warns. He doesn’t release his grip from your ankle and you’re thankful for the touch. “Try adding another finger.” You do just as he tells you, curling them inside you as you continue to stimulate your clit. 

“Seung, I’m… I think I’m close,” you say with a breath of surprise. 

“Good,” he smiles. “Don’t let up on the pace. Try to stay as consistent as you can. You’re doing so good for me, baby. Does that feel good? You’re so pretty, you have such a pretty pussy–”

You cut him off with a loud yell as you cum all over your fingers. Your legs kick up, unable to control them but he grabs your thighs and holds you down, rubbing small circles into your skin. 

When your breathing finally calms down he shoots you a grin. He opens his arms and you crawl right into them, laying your head against his chest. 

“Wasn’t trying to ‘mansplain,’” he mutters against your head. “Just wanted to see if I could help.” 

You laugh sleepily. “I know, Minnie. You did a good job. Thank you.” 

Jeongin:

With the way he smiles at you you’re not sure if he heard you right–he looks too giddy, dimples protruding from his face in a way that makes you want to poke him. 

“What–” you ask, taken aback. You were in the midst of a makeout session that had started to get a little too heated and you felt the need to confess your little problem. You were self-conscious about it and unsure how he would react but this is not what you expected. 

“Can I help?” he asks. 

“Help–”

“Touch you,” he clarifies. “Let me touch you?” He trails his hands up and down your cheek. Hot from his suggestion. But you’ve always loved his hands, long and veiny, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t imagine how they would feel. 

“Okay,” you stutter. “But if you can’t make me finish–”

“Shhh,” he kisses you. “Let’s not worry about that now. Just let me touch you and make you feel good, and if I can get you to cum that would be amazing. If not, nobody will be offended, yeah?” 

He sits up then and before you can ask what he’s doing he bends you over his lap. Your breath hitches and he runs a hand up and down your ass, grabbing and kneading the flesh. You’re glad he can’t see your face because you’re sure you’re flushed beyond belief. He touches you over your shorts and when you start to squirm he lands a warning tap to your ass that makes you yelp. He takes his time touching you through the fabric and circling your clothed clit before he lifts your hips up, pulling your shorts and panties off at the same time. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he teases, gathering your wetness with his fingers. “All this for me?” 

“Mmm,” you respond unintelligently, wiggling your ass to get your point across. Still he teases, never quite touching you where you need him. 

“Jeong-In… Innie, please, touch me,” you whine. He coos at the desperate tone of your voice before allowing his fingers to finally push into your entrance. You welcome the intrusion and you’re glad that he starts slow, fucking you deep and with purpose. 

“Feels good,” you moan, burying your head deeper into the sheets. 

“Yeah?” he asks. He fucks his fingers into at a speed that you couldn’t imagine possible, a large hand splayed onto your lower back to hold you in place. You can’t help the sounds that escape your mouth and you vaguely realize that Jeongin is talking, whispering filthy things in your ear. 

“Fuck, baby… your pussy is so tight. So perfect,” he groans. “So warm and wet… this pussy is all mine, yeah?” 

“Oh my GOD, fuck, Jeongin!” you cry out. His words add fuel to the fire, allowing the warmth to spread through you and speed up your impending climax. He doesn’t relent, staying at the same pace and hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars with his long, deft fingers. He hits that same spot every time and suddenly you’re cumming, spasming around his fingers. You swear you can hear his grin but you couldn’t care, not with the intensity of your orgasm. When you’ve come down from your high he strokes your back, letting your breathing even out. He reaches a hand around to your face and shows you his wet fingers, groaning when you wrap your lips around them. 

“I can make you cum in other ways,” he suggests. “Want me to show you?” ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Masterlist <3

[alienssstufff]

This Should've Been an Email

His mouth moved without it telling it to, then closed like whoever was possessing him didn’t know what to say either. There was something going on, something Etho could feel but didn’t understand. They were standing on the edge of the world, and Etho didn’t know how to tell Bdubs he was out of time. Was he out of time? Maybe he was just going insane again. Maybe-

“Etho, there’s a lot of void energy going on right now, can you focus-”

You can’t outsmart a god. You can only run.

-

[ READ HERE ] Latest addition to the Should've Could've Would've series and sequel to the YCAOverse byyyy incredible great @goingdownorup cinemaaaa is HERE and we are BACK IN THE BUILDING!!!

[rambling undercut]

you've fallen for my trap card, ramblings not about the actual fic yet sorry - I'm going to talk about art technicalities at you now :]

Ver without the text:

I drew this up on a whim immediately after finishing the first chapter. Other than it being fanart, this year I want to think smarter when making elaborate pieces - this being the one of the first experiments on it.

sketches have always been my starting foundation I usually go through a few iterations gradually building off the rough thumbnail all the way to lineart. Here I'm establishing perspective and rhythm (movement), using background and props to better frame the emphasis (focal) rather than overwhelm the eye with unnecessary detail.

Shirahama's Witch Hat Atelier manga panels were an inspiration for the lineart (reoccuring character. WHA changed my life)

I even started actually putting base colours instead of skipping to shading... BASE COLOURS. BASE COLOURS WITHOUT SHADING? Crazy world we live in. Above were me testing which colours worked best for the background and purpose. Ethubs look a little out of place atm - this changes in solid filters

Shading itself was a lot of back and forth in constant fumbles to maintain the rhythm instructed in the lineart, adding emphasis how values needed to carry the visual communication of this piece especially with a line heavy background because of the wheatfields. Everything uses either cel shading, filters, or gradients - I wanted to find a way to add complexity to my regular rendering style without needing to manually blend/paint (takes too long)

During this stage, Heikala's watercolour art was the study in crowd control (backgrounds with organic repetition)

Smaller misc details that couldn't fit anywhere in the previous pages. Overall while there are some things I still would change/redo, overall very pleased as a first (second) attempt ^_^

[bbokicidal]

Oh.. MY GOD. | SKZ [OT8]

They'd imagined you more than once, in multiple positions; but they'd never imagined you finding them like this.

Warnings: 18+ Content; M! Masturbation, jerking off, dry humping, sex toys (fleshlights, vibrators), humiliation

NSFW Masterlist | SFW Masterlist

방찬 [Bangchan] :

Humiliated. Humiliated but too close to stop. He doesn't even have time to process all of the emotions that flood through him when you push open his bedroom door and catch him with his sweats down just above his knees. Poor guy couldn't even get his pants all the way off before he was wrapping a hand around his dick and jerking it to the picture he'd taken with you just hours earlier at practice. He bites into his lip and drapes his arm over his eyes to shield you from his view while he finishes. He's pretty sure seeing you catch him in the act is what makes him cum so fast - painting his palm white while every muscle in his body flexes in a tense passion. He knew he'd have to explain himself now and he'd be flustered the whole time - but that was so worth it.

리노 [Lee Know] :

Man just spreads his thighs wider. You catch him in the living room of all places, having stayed over with Jisung and falling asleep while watching movies. When you head out in the morning to raid their kitchen for breakfast, you pause at the sight of Minho lazily stroking his cock while his free hand holds up his phone with a video of you and Felix roughhousing playing on it; You'd been wearing a skirt that day while you wrestled the Aussie. Minho glances to you and pauses for a moment before his hand resumes it's movements, thighs adjusting - thick and perfect and oh-so-inviting. He hums as he holds your gaze, head nodding down towards his lap. "Gonna just stand there or come help me?"

창빈 [Changbin] :

He's never going to be able to look you in the eyes again. He hadn't meant for you to ever find out but he'd been practically yelling into his pillows, his body bent over an extra that had been folded in half so he could fuck his pretty fat cock into the crease and pretend it was you. He hadn't even realized you were there at first, panting and whimpering and groaning so loud. He peeks back when he feels your presence and his cheeks burn a bright pink, ears and neck flushing in embarrassment. But he can't stop his hips from pumping like a piston against the pillow, chasing his high as pre drips from his tip more than ever before. Although it was embarrassing, maybe you watching him awakened something in him he wasn't aware of before...

현진 [Hyunjin] :

He'd been mumbling curses the entire time but he'd actually startled when you'd opened his bedroom door to see him humping the corner of his mattress. He'd seen a video - some woman doing it to stimulate her clit and he thought maybe it'd be the same for his dick. Turns out he was right; It was pretty much perfect and easy enough to brace himself on the mattress and floor for a good angle. And like this, he could picture fucking you bent over his bed, face in his sheets - But he reels back and yells in embarrassment when you peek in to tell him dinner is done. He wasn't even aware you were over in the first place. Jutting back and covering his exposed lower half with a blanket, he breathes hard and takes a long moment to think about his next move. Should he confess now, or was that... weird?

한 [Han] :

Finding Jisung with a vibrator pressed to the tip of his cock was not how you planned to spend your Monday - but Jisung... Well. He'd practically planned for it to happen; Jerking off right around the time he knew you'd wake up with Felix, using a toy that he knew would make him more vocal, even saying your name a few times in a weak, broken voice to lure you in. It was nasty of him to do, really, lusting after his roommate's girlfriend like this. But you came to him, stepped into his room when he'd let his thighs fall apart so you could see the muddy red tip that leaked for you and only you, so... ; He was pretty sure you were just as guilty as him.

필릭스 [Felix] :

Felix swore on his life you'd never find him like this; Never, ever, ever would you see the way he whimpered and drooled and gasped in pleasure whispers of your name while he humped his body pillow so much it made his back hurt. He could go for hours at a time and usually he would - but it had been around half an hour only when you'd peeked into his room after hearing odd noises that almost sounded like distress. He hadn't even noticed, eyes shut and whines so soft you can barely even make out that he's saying your name. But it's pretty unmistakable when he cries it out louder than before, begging for you to let him come. And he actually gasps and chokes on his sounds when your hand slides over his hip, gently urging him to keep going - and telling him you want him to cum for you, of course.

승민 [Seungmin] :

He can't really bring himself to care when you walk in on him. By the time you arrive at the dorm, Felix was still making his way into the building and you'd just opened the front door to the sight of him on the couch tugging his cock. Cum leaks from his tip and coats long, thin fingers as he finishes himself off, sighing out soft whispers of your name as if beckoning you closer. And it works, because you cautiously make your way to him, easily spotting his phone screen displaying a picture of the two of you together. You glance down and he brings you in with a hand on your waist, the other pushing two fingers into your mouth to make you help him clean up before Felix walks in.

아이엔 [I.N] :

What caught your attention was the noise of his bed squeaking; not the way he moaned your name. You hadn't even paid it attention until you'd peeked into the room, listening to Jeongin choke on his moans as he groaned, grunted - growled, even, your name with a clenched jaw and head tipped down. His hair fell over his face as he held himself up on the mattress, hips fucking into a flashlight practically drowning in lube while he murmured about how wet you were for him, how you were his, how you were dripping because of him. You took a shy step back and watched through the bedroom door cracked open just a bit, but never told him you caught him like that. You just knew he'd DIE of embarrassment.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 9:33

Bakugou never believed he had room for love in his life. His world was defined by ambitions and goals he set upon himself—becoming Number One, proving what he can or cannot do, and making every moment count in the endless pursuit of the things that he thought would satisfy him for as long as he lived.

He knows what love is. He’d seen it in glimpses—his parents everlasting love, his friends falling over themselves for their crushes at UA back in high school—he knows.

But love wasn’t a luxury he thought he could afford, and even if it was, it wasn’t something he thought about often. Too caught up in the relentless wave of life.

At least, not until you.

He first met you on the job.

At that time, you were nothing more than his partner for this particular high-stakes mission. He initially rolled his eyes at the thought of working with someone new, but you managed to worm your way into catching his attention (and soon into his heart).

You weren’t too loud, flashy, or all bark and no bite like some of the heroes he worked with. You were sharp and methodical, always thinking two steps ahead, and your patience in the face of chaos was something he both admired and envied.

But admiration wasn’t love, not yet.

You were supposed to be just another hero to him—a capable one, sure, but nothing more than a colleague. Bakugou would never admit it aloud, but the way you carried yourself earned his respect quickly.

You weren’t one to back down, even when he demanded easy-fix solutions from you when it was nearly impossible given the situation. You’d meet his intensity halfway, standing your ground when you knew he was wrong—Bakugou thinks that the moment he met you, he’s never once been right.

It annoyed the hell out of him, of course, but it also earned his begrudging approval. It’s like meeting someone that could keep up with him.

He’s still getting used to that.

Still, it wasn’t love. Or maybe he was just in denial.

It started subtly, sneaking up on him like an enemy he couldn’t see coming—which is almost never because Bakugou’s been preparing for his whole life for as long as he could remember. So you were like a force that swept him off his feet, quite literally, when he remembers your first meeting, how you casually tripped him over all because he didn’t acknowledge your presence in the room.

Yeah, that one’s on him.

He began noticing things about you—little things he’d never paid attention to in anyone else. Like the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you were passionate about—like those little figurines you said were Hironos, or the way your voice softened when she comforted a frightened child.

He noticed how you always managed to keep your composure, even when the odds were stacked against you. You had this way of making everything seem manageable... no matter how dire the situation.

And then there were the quiet moments.

Like the time you made coffee for the whole team during an overnight stakeout, remembering exactly how he liked his: strong, no sugar, just a splash of cream. You handed it to him with a knowing look, and for some reason, that simple act stuck with him longer than he expected.

“Coffee?” you offered.

Bakugou looked at you as if he were like a deer in headlights. “Yeah, thanks.”

He’s not a complete asshole, so he says thank you.

Or the time you were patrolling together, and he caught you humming under your breath. That pop song that’s trendier to the younger generation these days. It was such a soft, absent-minded thing, but it pulled at something in his chest. He didn’t even recognize the tune, but he found himself wanting to hear more.

It starts small. Then it comes all at once.

“You good?” he asks after finishing the given task.

You blinked up at him, nodding with a tired yet triumphant smile. “Peachy.”

That was when it hit him. The relief that washed over him wasn’t just because the mission was a success. It was because you were okay. And the thought of a world without you, even for a second, was unbearable.

Bakugou was screwed.

He started looking for excuses to spend more time with you. Walking you home after shifts, claiming he was “going the same route” even when his neighborhood was in the complete opposite way. Bringing you snacks during long patrols, muttering something about how he happened to have an extra. Offering to spar with you during training sessions, even though he hated sparring with people who weren’t on his level.

He hated how transparent he was being, how obvious his feelings were becoming. But for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The night Bakugou confessed, it wasn’t some big, dramatic moment. They were sitting on a rooftop after a long day, the city sprawled out below them, its lights twinkling like stars.

“You free tomorrow?” he asks abruptly, the words gruff and unpolished, like they’d been dragged out of him against his will.

You turned to him, your brows furrowed slightly. “Depends.”

“I— you...” he muttered, staring straight ahead. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t know what it is about you, but… you’re different. You don’t take my shit, but you don’t try to change me, either. You’re just… you.” He finally looked at you, his crimson eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.

“And I don’t wanna imagine this—any of this—without you in it.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression softening as the weight of his words sank in. Then you smiled, your hand resting on your cheek fondly.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Katsuki?”

If he weren’t uncharacteristically nervous right now, he would have made a wittier comeback. Bakugou’s chest felt impossibly tight, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something warm and steady, something he never knew he needed until now.

“Yeah, so? Whaddya say?”

“I’d absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[bluemerakis]

Recently finished Swayze’s ‘ghost’ and now I can’t stop thinking about post-Hell Dean, where the reader has his iconic brown leather jacket hanging in her room thinking she’s never gonna see him again but he shows up in her room (in a non creepy way as much as possible lol) and they fuuuuck like old times and she thinks she’s dreaming until she realises it’s actually him (or not lol) but the romanticism is screaming out to me, idk if it’s something you’d be interested in writing but omfg you’d write this so painfully well

ANON!! i LOVE LOVE LOVE this SO much! i’m so honoured that you’ve entrusted me with this idea—i had the time of my life writing this & went a lil wild with it LOL. thank you for your support and kind words, it means the world to me! i hope i did your request justice 🩵

─ ۶ৎ ─

────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ───

❝ sunshine ❞

─ ۶ৎ ─

pairing ୨୧ dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings .ᐟ s4!spoilers, established relationship, dramatic descriptions of grief, cussing, angst, sam being an adorable little angel, nip sucking, unprotected sex p in v, tooth-rotting fluff. lmk if I forgot any! if there are typos, no there isn’t

synopsis ─ after dean had sealed the deal that warranted him a one-way ticket to hell, you had no hopes of ever seeing him again. you were overcome with a grief that felt inescapable, but with sam’s help, you’d managed to pull through the storm and enter clearer skies. just when you thought you’d have to navigate a new life without dean, against all odds, he makes an unexpected appearance.

word count ~ roughly 15k

──────────────────────

Four months.

The duration of your ongoing turmoil. The grim tally of his absence.

For four months, you’d been trapped in the stagnant bog of your grief. It had formed the very first night you’d lost him, seizing your mind like a rabid plague. It didn’t matter which way you attempted to swim, or how hard you paddled to try and stay afloat, there was no sure escape from its bottomless depth. It immobilised your existence, broke down your hope—scattered it like falling leaves to be lapped up by the famished surface and swallowed to the point of no return. It was lonely and suffocating, but you’d since given up on waiting for a lifeline to be cast from some land beyond your gloomy horizon, so sure that you’d isolated yourself from any soul kind enough to try.

Except for Sam.

Sam had tried to rescue you many times, but the lines he casted were always too battered—chewed up by the demons of his own grief. And you knew that if you grabbed onto it—where he stood barely clinging to the other end—it would snap and pull him right in. You couldn’t do that to him, so you’d surrendered to the bog entirely, allowing your grief to engulf you into its endless, bone-chilling nothingness. And each day, you sank further and further, like the dead weight of a stone, drifting down into the pits of your despair. Your living, breathing death.

A slow, agonising journey of digestion—your body, mind and soul disseminating into nothing.

Reaching rock bottom hadn’t taken long, not when you’d been left feeling so shallow by the robbery of your life’s meaning. And you’d laid there ever since, slowly deteriorating, slowly drowning. Over and over and over again. You could have said that you were losing every part of yourself, but you hadn’t been whole to begin with, not for a long time—not since losing him.

If he were here, he could have saved you from yourself. But he wasn’t. And you hated him for it.

You hated him. For striking a deal with the devil. For placing his life on the line without a second breath. For lying to you about it. For even thinking that nobody would notice the dead space left behind. There were certain days that tended to plunge that hateful knife—already engrossed in your heart—a little deeper. A day like this morning.

The day that marked the anniversary of Dean Winchester’s death.

On the first day without him, you’d spent your time trying to fight it—forced smiles, laughs of denial, stares that didn’t linger on any of his belongings for too long. But it was hard not to come face to face with his memory when the ghost of his existence seemed to prowl after you at every turn and every corner of the apartment. His favourite coffee mug with an infamous chip on the rim. The frozen, pasty pies he’d crammed the freezer full of. Six packs of canned beers stocked along the pantry’s top shelf. His discarded shoes. His sparse watch collection. The shampoo bottle he’d diluted to last a month longer.

And that damn leather jacket, which currently draped from the frame of your desk chair.

It hung there like a museum exhibit—the memory of Dean Winchester, frozen in time. The jacket he’d left behind on the day he’d slipped your life for good. You hadn’t once touched it. You couldn’t bring yourself to lay your fingers across the leather when there’d be no warmth radiating through its fabric to soothe you—couldn’t face the fact that it’d reflect the cold, empty truth of it all. So there it laid, collecting dust and slowly drowning beneath the suffocating, grey sea without a merciful hand to liberate it. It was a cruel parallel of your own withering state.

Every morning, your eyes would peel through a hollow sleep, and the first thing they’d settle on was that damn jacket. Every. Single. Time. As if you needed the constant recap on top of everything else. You could have mustered up the courage to move it some place else that’d finally warrant the motto out of sight, out of mind. But the naive fool that had created that saying failed miserably at accounting for the woes of the brain. Once scorched into memory, nothing would ever truly be forgotten. You’d remember regardless of where that jacket lay—a curse bound to your life, never to be broken.

Unless you broke first.

You shifted at the heart of your king-sized bed, your head sinking back into your plumy pillow as you gazed up at the ceiling. At anything but that jacket. Your limbs sprawled out between the cotton sheets, taking maximum advantage to voyage the sea of space left at your disposal. While a mattress this large and luxurious should’ve offered you a sense of comfortable freedom, you couldn’t help but mourn all the space—space that at one point, had been occupied by him.

The gentle, golden glare of dawn had begun its steady journey into the room, letting itself in almost shyly through the slits of your curtains. The meek sunbeams sliced through the dim atmosphere you’d found solice within, and you watched as dust particles began to waltz around one another through the bronzed air—as if they’d been cast into the centre of the ballroom. Around and around they swirled in perfect, mirrored harmony. You thought it looked a lot like a courting display—more mental imagery to emphasise your loneliness.

For a second, some faded image—a memory—flashed across your mind. Yourself and Dean, taking to the neglected dance floor of a bar nearing its closing time. A half-emptied beer bottle clutched in his one hand as his other linked with yours, serving as the leash that dragged your protesting form to its debut on the dance floor.

You’d never been too confident in your dancing skills, a fact you’d tried many times to disclose, but Dean had been insistent. Somewhere behind you, Sam had whooped from the comfort of the booth you’d both discarded, and when you’d glanced back at the younger Winchester, he had his beer-adorned hand raised into the air as a cheer. You’d scoffed with a heavy thanks for nothing.

When you’d turned back to Dean, he’d drawn up in his tracks without any prior warning, causing you to crash not-so-elegantly into his torso. Instinctively, your free palm had lurched forward to cradle his chest in a steadying motion, your chin tilting up to grace him with a stunned giggle.

The drink he’d throttled in his other hand sloshed with the jolt, foam tumbling over the nozzle’s edge like a provoked volcano’s tantrum. It slathered his fingers and trickled to the floor, adding fresh patterns to the aged, sticky blotches already scattered amidst the young night.

“Woah, easy there, tiger,” he’d laughed, but the hand that’d dragged you here released your fingers only to form a seductive curve at the small of your back. There, he’d pulled you in even closer, his lips closing in on you with the promise of a love-sick kiss. But instead, his jaw had dipped past your temple, lips grazing your cheekbone before hovering at your ear. “There’s nuff o’ me to go ‘round without you jumpin’ ship for the first spot,” he husked. You’d practically felt the grin spreading his lips.

You’d ducked your head away from his with a hearty huff. “Down, boy,” you’d scoffed, hands trailing up his chest to crown either shoulder with a natural ease. The touch had been smooth, magnetic. And maybe you two were like magnets, utterly obsessed with being intangible, and eager to keep on exploring every inch of one another with a shifting touch rather than be torn apart.

Dean’s eyes had lowered to the naughty line you’d drawn to his shoulders, the grin he’d taken up deepening enough to suction his cheeks into the dimples you’d come to adore. When he’d acquainted your eyes again, it was through a heavy-lidded stare that promised all sorts of activities to reciprocate your tantalising touch. “Oh, I’ll get down, alright,” he’d chuckled hoarsely, leaving the line open to interpretation as he brought his beer to his lips. He’d downed a slow, deliberate sip, his eyes not once straying from yours as he watched you mentally decipher his words.

“You know what? Enough of your games,” you’d laughed, hands slipping from his chest to forsake the dance floor before you’d have a chance to make it regret hosting you. You’d attempted to turn tail and flee, but Dean’s hand had found your wrist in a firm, yet gentle tug, and then you were held prisoner under those hypnotising eyes once more. Your lips had split to offer some final protest, but his own lips puckered into a shushing pout that had you clamping down on your tongue.

“Don’t say anythin’, just dance with me,” he’d instructed, and then the hand tethering you to him lifted, your arm following the motion like a chain effect. Against your will, you were spun around in an awkward, off-timed circle that deviated abominably from the background music. When you came to face him once more, his chest had rattled with a laugh a little too passionate for your liking. “That was adorable—like a toddler learnin’ she’s got the gears but don’t quite know which she’s shiftin’.”

Your cheeks had seared hot at that comment, free hand diving forward to shove his chest lightly. “Stop—I warned you!” You’d simpered.

“Hey!” He’d laughed, beer-occupied hand lifting in a gesture of innocence. “I’m only playin’! You’ll get the hang o’ it—I’ll teach ya. Watch.” Your hand lifted under his guidance as he executed his own spin—even more sprawled and ridiculous than yours had been. Your free hand had flown to cradle your mouth as a disbelieved chortle blared through, and as Dean came to face you once more, his brows were lifted in question. “Eh? I’m a natural, yeah?”

You’d giggled into your palm again before dropping your hand back to your side, lips pursing with amusement. “Let’s just say that I don’t think either of us should be teaching the other,” you’d huffed through a pained smile.

Dean lowered your joined hands to the space between you. “Well,” he’d begun, pulling you into his frame once more, like he just couldn’t get enough of your presence—like he wanted it to hog him. “Guess we just gotta. . . y’know, feel this one out together,” he’d murmured suggestively, eyes narrowing with cheek while he released your hand to settle into its natural hold at the small of your back.

You’d leaned your smirk-heavy lips closer to his with a content hum, your hands coming to wrap around his neck. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll follow if you lead.” He’d grinned approvingly at that, tugging you along to a slow and steady sway of the bodies, which you’d succumbed to and harmonised with in no time—much to your surprise.

“Sammy!” Dean had called to his younger brother, his eyes not once straying from yours as he presented his beer in the direction of the booth. “All yours for the takin’.” He’d paused to steal a glance at your beaming lips. “I got my own special o’ the night.”

You’d laughed at that, and Dean’s charm had grown all the more potent as he stretched out the dance between the two of you for what felt like a good couple of hours. In the background, the music in bad taste had blared on, ever so eager to cheapen the moment between the two of you, but you’d become so enthralled with one another that all else around you was drowned out, anyway.

Both his hands had selfishly hoarded your lower back, pressing you so far into him that you’d stumbled around his feet more times than you’d have liked to admit. But you’d remained steadied by the hands furled around his neck, and comforted by the gentle, reciprocated press of your foreheads, gazing into the sanctuary of one another’s eyes.

If you’d known then, in that moment, that Dean Winchester was going to die, you’d have held onto him a little longer—and probably never have let go. Even if it killed you, too.

With a heavy, rattled rise of your chest, you came back to your grim present, drawing in a long and shaky breath. You shifted between the sheets to roll onto your side, arm coming up beneath the underside of your pillow to cradle it like an emotional support teddy. You tuned your attention to your curtain-clad windows, and like a corpse, you continued to rot away within your coffin of a mattress, watching idly as the sun continued to announce its ascent.

It wasn’t long before warm golds drained into a paler shades that fully lit your room now—the official statement of a new day. But still, you didn’t stir. The curtains remained cast, the windows crammed closed as tightly as they’d been left about a week ago, and your soul feeling anything but renewed to tackle this heavy day head on.

Somewhere beyond your wall, footsteps thrummed lightly down the hallway. Now and again, you’d let yourself believe that they belonged to Dean, on his way to brew you both a morning cuppa—just to offer some pathetic, fleeting slither of comfort. But nothing—nobody could ever fill those shoes left behind. It hadn’t stopped Sam from trying, though.

Before Dean’s. . . disappearance, the brothers had stayed together in the larger room of your two-bedroom apartment—nothing like reliving the good old times, right? It didn’t much bother either one of them, given that Dean had slept in your bed on most nights, leaving the space feeling basically like Sam’s own. The dynamic between you all worked well, and it was practical for a hunter’s lifestyle. Costs were cut, perimeters familiarised and mapped out, and the shared company between you all was reliable. Trustworthy.

You’d become a blended family of some sort. You didn’t think there was any external force that could’ve torn you all apart. But you hadn’t accounted for an inside job. Hadn’t accounted for the weak link that was you.

After Dean’s death, you’d gone into a self-destructive spiral, eager to push anybody and everybody away while you feigned bravery. But Sam had clocked you like an open book, and it made him the hottest target of your impulsive ire.

You couldn’t stand looking at the younger Winchester, how he served as a constant reflection of your own grief—the grief you’d tried so hard to drown out. You knew you should have bonded with him over your shared loss, and the younger Winchester had tried everything to utilise that angle to be there for you, but it’d only made you push back harder. You half expected him to walk out after the first week, but you’d forgotten how deep-rooted stubborness ran within the Winchester bloodline.

Sam had continued to stick around. Why was beyond you. You could have argued that it was because he’d come to love you like a sister, but you couldn’t help the feeling that Dean had made him promise to look out for you, should he ever bite the dust. And it made you hate him more. Because if it were the latter, it meant that Dean had always intended to stay en route on the sacrificial pathway you’d tried countless times to swerve him from. And it meant that loving you hadn’t been reason enough for him to become sidetracked.

If only he’d held out a little longer and put off making that damned deal, you could have continued searching for a solution that didn’t end with either of the Winchesters’ deaths. But deep down, you knew that fate hadn’t written that ending down in any of her books. That continuing to skim page after page would have done nothing but waste minutes paid in blood. Deep down, you knew that Dean had no other choice, but it didn’t make you hate him any less for choosing it.

The faint clanking of utensils transcended the walls, indicating that Sam had worked himself into the kitchen. It was like a routine now. Every morning, the same time. You thought he might’ve craved some taste of control over his life by instilling this morning pattern he now followed so religiously.

You envied how well he seemed to hold himself together, despite it being his blood that had passed on. It made you feel invalidated in all your mourning. After all, if he could move on from the loss of his brother, whom he’d known all his life, why couldn’t you move on from a man you’d known for a pitiful number that paled in comparison?

As they so often did, your thoughts rampaged for a while longer, so eager to hold you captive between the sheets. But eventually, you felt the pit of neglect burrowed into your stomach gape wider, something that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

Your head turned to glimpse the plates you’d stacked atop the bedside table over the last few days. Almost all of them held meals that you’d scarcely picked at, meals Sam had cooked you, and they were starting to smell. It wasn’t doing much to help encourage the full return of your appetite. But still, you had to eat—something fresher, of course.

Eventually, you mustered up the courage to stir and shed the sheets, your week-old pyjamas falling limp around your frame as you shovelled your weight onto wilted legs. You stood for a moment, taking in this new pull of gravity, before angling yourself toward the door.

At the corner of your eye, it beckoned to you. You shouldn’t have looked, shouldn’t have given it the attention it so desperately craved, but how could you stand steadfast when you were crippled with the need to reminisce him during every waking moment? So you buckled, like you always did, and turned to glance over the waiting leather jacket.

It beamed a little brighter this time around, illuminated by the sun’s pale touch. It looked almost angelic, and you could have sworn that new life had been bestowed upon it—like a reincarnation. But no matter how long you stared, no body seemed to materialise between its hold to glorify that hope. Still no Dean Winchester to show for it.

So much for having faith.

With a barely audible scoff, you finally tore your gaze away and trudged toward your bedroom door. You reached for the handle, fingers hovering over the cool metal as you took a moment to think about what’d you say to Sam. Starting with an apology would probably be ideal, followed up by a looping string of thank yous for everything he’s done. You swallowed thickly before tightening your hold, the mechanism clicking open with a brash sound that cut through your senses. And then, like a ghost, you neglected your grave and slunk into the hallway.

When you traipsed into the open-plan apartment on light, reluctant feet, your eyes wandered over to the kitchen at the corner, where Sam had already made himself comfortable at the hot lip of the stove. His back was turned on you, but you caught the whisk of his arms as he executed an impressive flip of something within the skillet. It landed with a muffled thump, a result that had Sam hissing out a noise of satisfaction.

A shy, smoky ghost levitated above the Winchester, and it wasn’t long before the cracked kitchen window wafted a clue in your direction—the sweet tang of pancakes tickling your nose. Usually, it was a smell that had you inhaling a little deeper, like you couldn’t miss savouring even a scrap of its existence. Now, the smell roused nothing other than a faint reminder of just how much you didn’t crave breakfast. Or anything, for that matter. But still, duty called. More like your stomach would begin eating itself if you insisted on starving it for a day longer.

With a practiced breath of bravery, you picked your way past the living room sofas, your sock-clad feet scuffling across the floor with a severe lack of motivation. As you approached the kitchen island, you spotted a can of sweetened whipped cream—your favourite—and a bowl of berries straddling the plated, ever-growing stack of pancakes. It was the complete picture your stomach needed to enlist the first of its rumbling, but you hadn’t had much of a mental appetite for quite some time. The simple joy you’d once held for eating had been boiled down to the dull necessity of sustenance—you ate only because your body needed fuel. Anything more than that just wasn’t worth feeling.

And, truthfully, it was a baffling, new reality because there was a time you'd have nagged the boys to drive you halfway across the country to try some new cuisine you'd seen advertised across billboards. You’d scribble down the names of the niche diners and renowned restaurants in your trusty notebook to be reviewed on the trips back to the motels, heated debates unfolding as the brothers either vouched for or condemned your idea of a good meal. Now, the memories were so distant that you'd started to wonder whether they'd even existed. Whether that version of you still existed.

You brought up the rear of one of the kitchen chairs, moving a hand to cradle your protesting stomach while the other outstretched to retract the chair at the rim. The sudden, intrusive screech of wood against wood was enough to startle Sam into a growing awareness of his surroundings. He pivoted on his heels to face you, the pan making a reflexive dive in your direction in what was meant to be some pitiful means of a defence. The white of his eyes blared through, his tall frame ducking slightly as he assumed a defensive position.

Your composure didn’t falter as you slunk into the seat; his reaction wasn’t any surprise, not when you lead the adrenaline-laced life of a hunter forced to guard their six on a daily. And you doubted he’d expected any company after you’d basically stopped existing outside of your room these last couple of days—and at this early hour, no less.

What did surprise you, though, was that the pancake had managed to cling to the metal of the skillet in the midst of his jolt.

As Sam drank in your familiar form, his broad shoulders sagged visibly under his growing relaxation, the vice grip he’d unintentionally taken up around the pan’s handle now relenting an inch.

“Oh,” he stuttered out, a flustered half-chuckle diffusing his misplaced adrenaline. He slunk toward the island with his head slightly bowed, his gaze flickering between you and the pan. “Hey,” he murmured, his lips pursing shortly after the meek sound, as though he were afraid to let the wrong words slip. His caution wasn’t misplaced; you hadn’t exactly been kind to him these last few days.

It usually went that way around this time of the month. The days stepping up to the anniversary of Dean’s death tended to trip you right into the worst vision of yourself. You were more sullen than usual, losing patience over minuscule things, and sinking jaws of hostility into anybody who’d even attempted to offer hollow words of comfort.

Bobby had been the first to withdraw with some muttered crap of I’m too old for this shit. But Sam had always been too forgiving. He’d stuck around regardless of your temper, taking all the verbal beatings while he tended to your unspoken needs in ways that you couldn’t. You owed him so much more than you were capable of giving at this time.

You leaned onto the cool marble of the island, your hands coming forward in a timid fold as your lips flattened into a pathetic spectacle of a smile. “Hey, Sam,” you murmured, and for a second, the sound startled you. It was so dull, so lifeless—you’d even go so far as to say that it was so unlike you.

It was a stark contrast to the version of yourself the brothers had learnt to tolerate, maybe even appreciate—constant chatter and running commentary streaming live from the backseat of the impala. Dean had gone so far as to nickname you sunshine and rainbows, trailing after the twin storm clouds—the Winchesters—that seemed to thunder down on the unassuming world. But now, you felt like nothing more than the rolling, gloomy skies that paved way for everything wet, woeful and destructive. A weather so devastating that a show of a rainbow would be a mockery rather than a promise.

Sam returned your smile almost sheepishly, his head dipping to drink in the view of the counter. “You, uh. . . you sleep alright?” He asked, the pan coming forward to leer you over as he tipped the metal downwards and crowned the seasoned stack of pancakes with the fresh newcomer.

Your eyes lowered to the newest addition of the pancake pile, following the faint trails of heat that seemed to rise with a freedom and lightness you craved to feel. “Yeah,” you lied, your lower lip instantly pulled into a tense bite. “Yeah, I slept. . . fine.”

You knew that Sam wasn’t convinced, the moment of silence following after evidence of some tactic he might’ve been mentally reviewing to try and coax the truth from you. You began tracing a line along the patterns of the marble counter with your index finger, anticipating the awkward conversation to come.

“Come on, really?” He laughed softly, but the sound was gentle and sympathetic, not slathered with amusement or scorn. “‘Cause I didn’t,” he confessed.

You glanced up at him in surprise, your finger halting in its place. “Really?” You breathed out softly, instant relief crashing over you. Maybe Sam hadn’t recovered as much as you thought he had, and as unfortunate as that was, you couldn’t help but feel slightly comforted—less alone.

He tipped his head to the side in consensus, a wry scoff piercing his lips. “Honestly? Can’t remember the last time I did,” he said, eyes flickering up to glance you over briefly before he turned his back on you to discard the pan at the sink. He slid over to the stove, flicking buttons and shifting dishes before he was back at the island. “I mean, I sleep—but just. . . not very well.” He took up a spatula and began shovelling at the pancake stack. “One?” He asked intuitively.

“One’s perfect,” you said. You watched as he dragged the rim of the spatula down the building of pancakes, stopping somewhere around the middle floor before he slid the utensil inward. He shimmied out a hot and fluffy pick, placing it onto your plate rather gingerly before he nudged it in your direction. “Thanks, Sam,” you murmured, receiving it with a forced show of eagerness—you didn’t want your lack of an appetite to make things more personal than they already felt.

“Yeah, anytime,” he answered, sparing you a soft smile before he took to plating his own stack of three.

You held off on digging into your singular pancake, hands idling around the knife and fork bracketing your plate as you waited for the younger Winchester to cover up the remainder of the breakfast.

With a satisfied dusting of his palms, he finally pushed his own plate across the marble to slide in a distance beside yours before he made his way around the island. He pulled out the seat beside you and settled himself down with a heavy plop and an appreciative grunt—almost like an old man of some sorts.

He took up his cutlery and glanced over at you with a comforting smile. “Time to, uh. . . dig in, I guess,” he laughed lightly. “There’s whipped cream and berries if you’d like.” His chin jutted to the listed toppings, and then his knifed hand jolted into the air suddenly. “Oh, and there’s syrup, too. I’ll fetch it from the pantry.”

Without waiting for your response, he set down the cutlery and shifted back in his chair, but you turned your body a slither to face him before he could slip away as quickly as your nerve.

“Sam, wait,” you said, your hands straying from the table to bundle in your lap in an anxious toying of fingers.

He halted in place almost instantly, turning to face you with his brows quirked an inch—like your sudden unrest was news to him. But you knew he was only trying to be polite in playing his attentive part; he likely knew exactly what this was about. “Yeah?”

You drank in his softened eyes, and they held so much purity and innocence that it caused your heart to sag with a fresh, guilt-ridden heaviness. It tugged your head down to the view of your lap, your chest heaving with a shuddering inhale. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice rattled by so much regret that it began to quiver.

At the edge of your vision, you saw Sam settle back into his seat, arms drawing onto the counter. “Hey,” he cooed gently. “It’s oka—”

“No, it’s not okay,” you cut in hastily. “I need to say this. I’m sorry for everything—for the way I acted. . . for the things I said—you didn’t deserve any of it, Sam.” You began picking at the skin of your nails. “I just, I have all this. . . anger inside of me. I’m angry at myself, and I’m angry at Dean—I’m angry at everything cause everything’s just so fucking unfair. And I know that it’s not an excuse, but I just. . . I figured. . . I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know,” you scoffed, but you braved face and lifted your head to face him once more. “But I do know that I am truly, deeply sorry.”

Sam’s head lowered to take in the view of his plate, his eyes darting about the porcelain. “Listen,” he eventually murmured, his mouth stuttering around air as he searched for the right words. Eventually, he settled on grace. “I get it, okay?” His chin lifted to gift you with a break you didn’t think you deserved. “All that anger inside of you. . . I’ve felt it before—more than I’d like to admit, actually,” he laughed dryly before his expression warped into something more solemn. “It eats you up inside. . . makes you say and do things you wouldn’t usually say or do. There are so many times I’ve gone down that road, but Dean—he’s always been there to pull me back, even if it was by the tip of my ear.” He laughed again, this time more genuine, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile of your own.

Sam’s head lowered again, his smile simmering away. “Anyway, I guess what I’m tryna say is that, I get it. I get why you said the things you did, and I’m not mad about it. For once, I don’t feel that anger anymore.”

Slowly, your fingers began to still their fidgeting as you listened to him talk, your chest cooperating by letting up on its rapid pace.

The younger winchester upturned his eyes to yours with a new ferocity. “I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you—and not just because I owe Dean that much, but because you’ve been there for me, too. So many times. Even at my. . .” He trailed off as he averted his gaze to the side, some unspoken shame breaching his conscious. You saw his Adam’s Apple bop under a heavy swallow before he turned back to you. “Even at my worst,” he continued. “So. . . don’t worry about it, really. I get it.”

For the first time in a long time, you found your eyes watering an emotion other than grief and heartbreak—something far lighter and rejuvenating. Love. Appreciation. Relief. You envied Sam’s ability to barrel through this cruel life so determined to pin him down, and you admired how each time, he seemed to emerge with a heart even larger than before. Even after all the rounds you’d emptied into his chest, he stood tall, still offering that hand you so desperately needed to pull you from your self-dug trenches.

Maybe, it was about time you finally took it.

The first tear slipped the keep of your eye, jettisoned from the ledge of your cheekbone to where it splattered across the marble top. Your hand flew to wipe the moisture away, an ugly sniff racking your chest. There was a clank of shifting metal before Sam’s hand came forward to brush your shoulder.

“Hey,” he cooed softly, and then you were carefully tugged into the side of his towering frame. “Come here,” he urged, and he was so gentle that it had you fully succumbing to his hold without a single reflexive need to resist. His arm snaked around your shoulder blades to hook around your arm as he drew you into a tight hug, your hands bundling further into your lap. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. Together,” he added pointedly, a clear warning that he didn’t intend to let you get your lonely way again. You were okay with that.

Your lower lip began quivering with fresh emotion—guilt bouncing on the rim the heaviest. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” you reiterated.

Your felt his chin settle into the crown of your head, the vibration bouncing off your hair. “For what? Being human?” He laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, we tend to be dicks from time to time, and I’d say hunters have more right than most to be a bigger one now and again.”

You laughed—actually laughed at that, the sound snotty and slightly gross, but real. Sam harmonised with his own throaty chuckle, the hand furled around your arm in a tight, reassuring grip relenting to rub comforting lines up and down the expanse.

“Now, enough of the pity party. Let’s finish these pancakes before they get cold, and then what do you say we pull out a couple of board games?” He gave you one last comforting squeeze before slowly releasing you from the hug.

You leaned away from him, centring your weight back over your own chair as you turned your head down to your plate with a thoughtful pout. “Okay,” you agreed, your chin ducking in tiny, accepting nods. You sniffed away the lingering tears, hand coming up to pat your eyes one last time for good measure. Then, your head swivelled to face him as you put on a weak smile. “Hey—think you’re smart enough to challenge me to a game of scrabble?”

Sam laughed as though your challenge was satire, but you frowned with slight offence, which sobered his smile into a look of confusion. “Wha—you’re serious?” He huffed, jaw gaped around disbelief.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” You exclaimed, your voice cracking around a light giggle—the first you’d uttered in a while. “I’m as smart as you are—we read the same books!”

His averted his gaze, head cocking to the side with a scoff before he glanced back at you in amusement. “Yeah, and after you gave your reports, I had to go back and reread every single one of those books to fill in information you left out,” he said pointedly.

You shook your head with light disbelief, a thin chuckle following after. “You know what? Let’s have that round, and if you win, you can bullshit my literacy skills all you like. Deal?” You outstretched your hand across the counter.

Sam’s gaze ducked to the gesture, his brows cocking on a look that you thought was a little too smug, before his hand reached to link with yours in an informal pact. “Deal,” he said through a scheming smirk.

You squeezed his hand lightly as a warning. “Wipe that douche-display off your lips, nothing’s set in stone.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” he replied nonchalantly, but when your hands unlinked, you saw the corner of his mouth hitch with some mental remark.

“All right, that’s it.” You took up your utensils while Sam glanced you over with slight surprise. You began digging into your pancake with a renewed sense, plopping the first piece into your mouth and taking on a ferocious chew. There was a brief wave of nausea at the food’s sudden intrusion before it quickly dissipated at the sweet taste, beckoning you back for another bite.

“You might wanna slow down there,” he laughed, hands tending to his own plate before they finally presented his first bite to his lips with far more poise.

“Uh uh,” you hummed through a mouthful, swallowing thickly before continuing. “I got a lot riding on this. You made it personal when you brought my ego into this. Sooner we’re done here, sooner I can beat you.”

Sam let out a disbelieved laugh, but didn’t argue any further as he began dissembling his own pancakes at a faster rate. Once you’d both lapped down the dough and licked the plates clean, you’d taken to washing up the dishes and wiping down the counters while Sam procured the board games that had long since collected dust. You’d taken the liberty of microwaving you both a bowl of popcorn and pouring glasses of soda while he set out the game within the living room. Then, you both settled down for the first round, snacks at the ready.

Sam had won, as he’d so smugly anticipated. But you weren’t so eager to be humiliated without a challenge, so for the rest of the day, you’d played out the game to a tally of the most wins. Hours seemed to pass like the impression of a second, the apartment growing dimmer and dimmer with each trailing retreat of the sun.

Eventually, you were both cast in a saturated bronze that poured in through the living room windows, illuminating the score page you’d scribbled up and further glorifying Sam’s final win. He took the game by far, and you were forced to acknowledge that maybe he was the smarter one of you both. Or at least the more apt thinker.

After that, you’d both powered through a movie of his choice, chowing down on some Chinese takeout he’d had delivered. And you emptied the carton down to the last noodle, appeasing the appetite you’d developed somewhere throughout the day. Already, you felt so much lighter—physically and mentally—and you knew that you owed it all to Sam and his perseverence. You couldn’t help but beam with some newfound appreciation for the younger Winchester.

Through the darkness, the tv screen emitted just enough light to illuminate Sam’s side profile. His eyes were glued to the screen, jaw circulating hasty chews as he practically inhaled his second bowl of popcorn. The sight made you shake your head with light amusement, and you watched him a little longer just for the sake of it.

“Hey, Sam?” You eventually called, which made him face you with a look of sudden concern.

His hand halted within his bowl. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For today—for everything.” You offered him a warm, appreciative smile. He’d given you something you desperately needed today—a distraction. From everything and most definitely from yourself. Debts like those didn’t feel possible to repay, but you’d try, regardless. As long as it took.

Sam took a moment to drink in your words, his features motionless before his brows furrowed like he’d made nothing of your gesture. “Yeah, no problem,” he answered, a smile to match yours following shortly after. You both turned your attention back to the screen, and for the rest of the movie, you sat in comfortable, popcorn-tinged silence.

Once the movie came to an end, you’d both chatted about anything and everything until the first person let a yawn slip—that person being you. After that, you’d both tidied up the space, folded the blankets and packed the games back into their keep. Then, you’d dipped into your room to gather your old dishes, discarding the food and washing up the plates. Sam had helped pack it all away.

Once the day’s chores were wrapped up, you’d both exchanged your nightly greetings before going your separate ways. Sam retreated back to his room, though not without snagging a thick book from the shared reading shelf. You’d briefly slipped into your own room to pull out a fresh set of pyjamas and a towel before dipping your toes into a much needed shower.

Once you felt you’d scrubbed off enough of your week-long rot, you’d slunk from the shower and back to your room to call it a day. When you clicked the door closed behind you, you hovered on the spot with a hearty sigh into the dim atmosphere. You took a moment to reflect on the day, and for once, it provoked a smile—not sadness, not anger, not grief—but a genuine smile. The relief after the storm.

You flicked on the light and dressed yourself into your fresh set of clothes, teeth brushed and hair secured back before you flicked the lights off and sank into your bed with a new type of exhaustion. A fulfilling one. It wasn’t long before sleep arrived to hurl you into vivid dreams, and not unlike other times, you dreamt of Dean.

Within your bed, he had you bare and sprawled out beneath his own nude figure, his lips wandering gentle, curious trails along the side of your jaw before dipping down the ledge to trawl the arch of your neck. His elbows propped him up on either side of your head as he took his time to lovingly brand you with his wet caress, your own hands combing blissful strokes through his hair.

You sank back into your pillow, lips parting with breathy mewls as he shifted his attention down to your breasts. He moved to cup one tenderly, tongue swirling a loop around the hardened bud, his strained moan sprawling into the mix of stimulation as you tightened your hold within his hair.

“Dean,” you exhaled weakly, for no reason other than to verbalise the unorthodox way he made you feel. Your teeth found your lower lip in a restrained nibble as he acknowledged your absent-minded praise with a gentle kneading of your breast—as if he sought to gorge on it to the point of total devouring.

You felt the blood flow vigorously to your chest, spurred onward by the suctioning of his lips, and it pooled at your nipple, causing it to throb within his hold. You let slip a soft noise of discomfort, your hand collapsing from his hair to gently push him back at the collarbone.

Dean’s head lifted to yours, a slight pant wafting from his glistening lips. “All good there, sunshine?” He murmured, hand slipping from your breast to run a light, reassuring finger across your cheek. He smudged away the moisture beading along your skin before settling his thumb in the divot of your chin.

“Too much,” you breathed through a dazed grin, hand coming up to gently wrap around his wrist. “You’re like a leech,” you added with a soft giggle.

His lips thinned in a proud smirk, encouraged by your tease rather than offended. “Damn right I am—have you tasted you? Freakin’ delicious,” he praised, smacking his lips in a dramatic show and tell. It made you giggle and release his wrist to pin his lips between your thumb and index finger, and you held them captive while he mumbled noises of protest. He looked so ridiculous, it warmed your heart.

“Stop that!” You laughed, your cheeks flushing hot at the silly sight of him.

Dean wiggled his lips between your grasp until he was able to wrap his lips around a finger, nibbling your skin tenderly so that you released a light squeal and pulled away from his famished lips. “Stop what?” He mocked lightheartedly, head lowering down to you as he followed after your retreating hand with a determined grin playing his lips.

Your hands flew to your chest in a pretence of helplessness, your giggles elevating to a heartier laugh as he pretended to chase after them. His teeth acquainted the air all around them with animated chomps, but made no good on the promise. Eventually, he gave up the hunt and pressed his lips to the side of your jaw, gradually tracing his way up to the soft curve of your cheek before he drew back an inch to gaze into your eyes.

“My sunshine,” he said softly, adoringly, leaning down to nuzzle the button of your nose with his own before he placed a soft kiss there.

Your heart trilled love-struck melodies around Dean’s proud declaration, the magnitude of your smile hoisting up the apples of your cheeks until your eyes were compressed into half-moons. “Say it again,” you murmured, palms drifting up to frame his face and thumbs twiddling to soothe the humps of his cheeks.

Your touch set Dean’s composure alight, his sultry stare softening into something more pure and needy. His eyes narrowed as he gazed down at you, as though you had captured his complete and undivided attention. You found yourself getting so wrapped up in their green depths that for a second, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“You’re my sunshine,” he repeated in a voice so low and soft that it bordered a husky whisper, but the love imbued into those words carried through as clear as a shout. “I don’t care if that sounds like the title of a Jane Austen novel. You’ve got this. . . fire to you, the kind that nobody—nothin’ can gank. And you draw people into your orbit like they’d never stood a damn chance. Trust me, I sure as hell didn’t,” he laughed, both his hands coming up as a unit to brush back the hair framing your face. “And you’re warm. . .” He trailed off to place a kiss on your cheek, “—and radiant—” and then the other. “And my whole goddamn universe.”

You gazed at him as he pulled away from your proximity, his eyes brimming with love as he waited for your response. What you wanted to say was, “I knew you read Jane Austin in your free time!”, a harmless poke that would keep this tender moment elevated at meaningful heights. Then you’d both share a laugh, and melt into the night cocooned within each other’s warmth.

But deep down, something more solemn tugged at the strings of your heart—an unanswered question that slowly began to resurface despite your attempt to bury it time and time again. So instead, you said, “then how could you leave me?”

Dean’s face warped into a light frown, your question catching him off guard. For a few seconds, he did nothing but stare, his lips parting to search for an answer that you’d waited months to hear. But when he looked as though he might finally answer, no sound carried through to lay your suspense to rest. His mouth gaped and his lips moved, but they formed nonsensical words, and no matter how hard you tried to focus and decipher your most craved confession, it never came to you.

Then, the scene around you began to distort, the lights cutting out and the shapes of the room’s decor warping erratically. And when you blinked, Dean had disappeared entirely—his atoms scattered into the cosmos of your mind. You tried to call out to him, to summon him back to his rightful place beside you, but it seemed as though he were destined to be robbed from the palm of your hands—both in the waking world, and in the confines of your own mind.

And then you, in your entirety, were dissolved into a black abyss, the surroundings melting away like you’d imagined it all in a vivid episode of mania. For a moment, you floated around in a void, your mind slowly dissociating from the fantasies of its own creation. You heard nothing, saw nothing, but somehow, you felt a touch lingering upon your arm. It was warm, familiar, and even though no face materialised to claim it, you knew that it was Dean.

You prepared yourself to mourn the loss of it once you emerged into the waking world, but as your eyes fluttered open, your lids blinking frantically to clear your vision, the touch didn’t fade. If anything, it became more palpable, solid—real. And when you’d adjusted enough to the dawn haze shrouding your room, it wasn’t the image of the leather jacket that arrived first to taunt you.

It was Dean.

You blinked harder, more desperately, your heart rate skyrocketing as you attempted to rationalise whatever fucked up delusion your exhausted mind was currently displaying you. But his body didn’t vaporise into nothingness, and blinking didn’t seem to possess the same parlour trick of making the rabbit disappear, like it did in your dreams.

It was real.

There he sat, as stoic as a statue, at the edge of your mattress, and the hand you’d felt cupping your arm stroked up the curve of your shoulder to gently frame your neck. The contact sent a shiver up your spine, your lips falling open to expel a shaky breath.

It can’t be, you thought, your brows contracting in a puzzled frown. He’s dead—he’s in hell, he can’t be here.

Through the dawn gloom, you could make out the faintest stretch of his lips—an almost simper. “Good mornin’, Sunshine.” But you didn’t recognise the voice. It was low, gruff and abraded, like his vocal cords had been extracted and sent through the grinder before being forcibly shoved back into its compartment. And he sounded dull, the type of dull you’d come to embody in his absence. It was. . . anything but Dean Winchester.

Your lower lip began to quiver, your shoulder drawing into yourself as you shied away from his touch. “This isn’t real,” you choked out, hastily collecting yourself onto your elbows as you sought to put some distance between you two. “You’re not real!” You exclaimed in rising volume, which had the impersonator stretching out both his hands in a steadying motion.

“You’ll wake Sammy,” he whispered urgently—a harsh sound that came across as more of a scold.

You frowned as you inched yourself a fraction across the mattress, eager to reach the end opposite to where he sat. “Who are you?” You demanded in a tone more regulated, your hand subtly reaching behind you to grab ahold of the salt container you kept on the bedside table like a framed picture.

Dean’s eyes seemed to follow your not-so-subtle play with dry amusement. “It’s me,” he insisted gruffly, his hands coming to settle on his knees—and one of them bounced with unspoken thoughts. It was a habit you’d come to recognise since knowing him, and it did a fraction of a favour in vouching for his authenticity. “It’s Dean,” he continued, eyes straying from your hands to settle onto your face.

“No,” you refused, and behind you, your fingers grabbed ahold of the salt. “Dean Winchester died—four months ago,” you explained in a low, but no less stern voice. “So I’m going to ask you again—who are you?”

His nostrils seemed to flare with dwindling patience, his eyes flickering off to the side. “Man, paranoia’s one son o’a bitch,” he scoffed under his breath before turning to face you again. “Listen, I know you’re not gonna believe me. And I also know that you’re about to baptise me with a shit ton o’ salt to barbecue the livin’ crap outta whatever demon you think’s got his hand stuck up my ass.” He began reaching into his shirt pocket. “Now, as much as I’d love to swallow a mouthful of killer blood pressu—” his words were cut short as you tossed a handful of salt in his direction, the mound not shying away from taking a bold dip in his mouth.

The assault dealt no physical damage to his body, but it did earn a passionate look of annoyance from Dean, whose jaw slowly circumducted as his tongue began shovelling the salty hell from his mouth. You scrutinised him for a few seconds longer, not so eager to let down your guard because of one passed test.

“You’re not a demon?” You asked more than stated.

His jaw fell limp at your question, a slow blink accentuating his displeasure. “Clearly not,” he said lowly, the words slurred by his unwillingness to taste the salt with proper pronunciation.

He leaned forward, hand reaching for the box of tissues sitting atop the beside table, and yanked a few free. He brought it up to his lips, where he spat furiously to cleanse his mouth. After a rough clearing of his throat, he bundled up the tissues, tossed it onto the table and glanced over at you once more. “Listen, I’ve already been through all the tests back at Bobby’s. I was goin’ to pull out the phone and get him on the line to clear me before you decided I needed some seasonin’,” he said flatly.

You watched him suspiciously, your brow quirking in disbelief. “Fine,” you said tensely, but offered nothing further.

Dean frowned lightly, his eyes doing a brief and clueless sweep of the room as though he expected you to offer more clarity. He settled his attention back onto you, his chin lifting slightly as he uttered a cautious, “okay.” He began reaching into his pocket once more, the movement deliberately slowed. “Just gonna reach for the phone, alright? So hands off the fuckin’ salt,” he said, eyes flickering between you and the container. “Please,” he added gruffly, and then his had retracted with the phone.

You prowled after his every move like a predator, but despite your weariness, you still lowered the salt an inch. You watched as he flicked open the phone, thumb gliding across the keypad as he pulled up Bobby’s number. Then, he lifted the phone to his ear, eyes trained on you with equal caution as he waited for the line to connect him to the opposite end.

You heard the static click, and a voice blared through shortly after—Bobby’s voice. The sound soothed your heart by a slither.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted, passing his tongue along his lower lip. “Listen, I, uh. . . I need ya to do that thing I told you I’d need—you know, vouchin’ for me and all.” On the other end of the line, Bobby uttered a few, incomprehensible words. “Yeah,” Dean laughed weakly. “Yeah. . . she threw me with the salt. Just like you said.” His eyes flickered to you with subtle amusement before Bobby said something else. Then, he was handing you the phone.

You narrowed your eyes in skepticism before your free hand reached for the phone, so careful not to graze his skin as you retrieved it from his fingers. Dean seemed to notice the rejection, and his mouth gaped slightly with the hurt it evoked. You pushed aside the image, but didn’t stray from his face as you brought the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You called into the line.

“Hey, kid, it’s me,” Bobby’s static voice answered. “Listen, I know you’re goin’ through one helluva mind-fuck right ‘bout now. . . but it’s ‘im, kid. It’s Dean.” He trailed into silence after those words, providing an interval he expected you’d fill with some sort of taken aback reaction. But all you could do was choke on your stunned silence, your heart beginning to ram at your chest harder than it’d ever managed before. “Kid? Y’still there?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed all-knowingly as he watched you in patient silence. His hand shifted from his lap an inch, like he yearned to reach out to you and offer some reassurance, but you both knew it’d do little to soothe you in this current predicament—the mental debate of whether or not the man you loved was really back.

Eventually, your body hosted a response, but it wasn’t one you’d preferred to have at this instant. A tear clotted along your one eye, bundling up until it was heavy enough to slip over the edge. Dean’s expression visibly softened, his jaw clenching with the knowledge that he couldn’t exactly pull you into a tight embrace—not just yet, anyway.

Your lips loosened, a rattled breath breaking through. “I saw his body, Bobby,” you pushed out in a quiver. Another tear lined the opposite cheek. “I watched you and Sam dig that fucking hole. . . and I watched you roll his lifeless, rotting corpse over the edge before cementing him under six fucking feet of dirt.”

The phone line hissed and crackled with the silent air on Bobby’s side. You almost thought he’d given up the ruse that you were so determined to believe you’d gotten caught up in, but then his voice blared through—the most tender and sympathetic you’ve ever heard it.

“I know you’re confused,” he began. “Hell, this shit had me believin’ that my family’s history of Alzheimer’s had finally kicked the bucket out from under me. But I did all the tests, and I interrogated him over and over again. I gave him hell, kid, but in the end, it’s really him. Y’know I wouldn’t have even thought ‘bout lettin’ him get close to ya if I weren’t certain o’ it. So if ya can’t trust ‘im just yet, then trust me. I give ya my word.”

Your fingers gripped the phone a little tighter, if only to still the trembling of your hand, and you gave a large sniff as you processed his words. Your eyes still bore into Dean, as though it would keep him pinned to the spot should he think about making a run for it.

You shifted the phone against your ear an inch, taking your lower lip into a tense bite before you spoke again. “Okay,” you breathed softly. “I trust you, Bobby.”

From Bobby’s end, shuffling noises chafed your ear like sand-paper. “Alright, kid, I’ll leave the two o’ ya to it. Good luck,” he said, and then the line terminated with a beep. The call’s ending tune reached Dean’s ear, where he shifted on the mattress almost anxiously while he waited for your decision.

“So, uh,” he began, his lips stuttering on the right words as his head buckled to face the hands he’d crossed in his lap. His palms rubbed tense lines—like the scheming motion of a fly—before he glanced back up at you. “We good?” He settled on. You saw the subtle desperation in the clench of his jaw. He craved the pardon only you could give him.

Slowly, you lowered the phone from your ear, flipping it closed as your chest rattled with another, shaky breath. Your eyes began to water once more, and this time, it didn’t hold back. In a second, you were hurling yourself across the mattress, arms flailing through the air to wrap around his neck with a desperation that could have body-slammed him to the floor.

“Woah,” he steadied in a laugh that sounded all too relieved.

Your chest crashed into Dean’s, and his hands were hasty to return your hug as he wrapped himself around your waist. There, he completed the embrace, pulling you against him so tightly that it started to pinch the meat of your skin through your shirt. But you didn’t care if his grip left behind a bruise—you’d consider it a physical reminder of just how real this all was.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, all the pent up emotions you’d come to harbour over these last few months finally liberated from your clutch. The tears began to roll without practiced regulation, and you found yourself yielding all control. Because being around Dean always had you feeling safe enough to do so, and your body had utilised its muscle-memory to re-establish that foundation. To rebuild the home that his death had wrecked.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” you whispered against the stubbled skin of his neck, the sound heavy and cracked.

His palm stroked slow, comforting circles across your lower back, his own face buried against the slope of your shoulder. You felt his warm breath waft over your skin as he spoke. “Me too,” he pushed out tensely. Shakily. There were very few moments that you’d ever heard that tone on him. “I didn’t think I was ever comin’ back,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you, or Sammy—hell, even Bobby, again. But I’m not complainin’,” he added hastily. “Shit, I’ll never complain ‘bout anythin’ e’er again. I got everythin’ I need right here.”

He shifted against you, torso pulling back as though he couldn’t wait a second longer to peer into your eyes. You leaned yourself back in rhythm, your cheeks blown red with your overwhelmed state and your eyes still glistening with fresh tears. You kept your hands looped around his neck, fingers still clutching his phone, and your heart was seized by a new fist of pain as you saw Dean’s bloodshot eyes pave way for his own, sparse—but undeniably real—tears.

His hands settled at your hips, fingers subconsciously squeezing at the meat as he did a mental walkthrough of his own emotions. “I missed you so goddamn much,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling now. “God, all I could think ‘bout down there, every second of every miserable day, was you—how much I needed you. How much I missed you.” His chest jolted with a forced, but much needed exhale to steady his next words. “And how much I love you.”

You choked on your breath at that final confession, words that—up until now—had never directly admitted. You couldn’t help but huff a slight breath of disbelief, a weak grin beaming through as your eyes softened with a warmth that made you feel whole again. Dean, himself, looked slightly stunned at his declaration, his eyes widening mildly as he drank in your reaction. But as you gazed at him, there was no undertone of regret or shame mingling with his features. There was only what looked like relief, if the slight quirking of his lips and the soft sigh that followed after was any indication.

Maybe, it was relief attributed to the fact that he’d finally started to unpack—and put words to—some of his more complex emotions. It made you feel so much closer to him.

Without sparing it another thought, you blurted your own reciprocation. “I love you too, Dean.”

He smiled tenderly at that, and neither one of you moved as you shared an intense stare that circulated all sorts of emotion—love, adoration, and desire. Then, as though some unspoken agreement had been exchanged, you dove down to meet his lips in a fierce kiss, the phone you’d been clutching dropping to some surface beyond your current care.

Dean’s hands trailed up the expanse of your back as he returned your kiss hungrily, his lips feuding with yours for an advantage of the play. He wasted no time sliding his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, his warm palms massaging a determined, upward trajectory until he gained enough leverage to tug it over your head.

The kiss broke off momentarily as your arms flew up in an eager gesture to shed your layers, your chest heaving with the exertion. He managed to successfully tug the shirt over your head, the neckline the last to go and leaving behind an impression as it briefly snagged onto your hair. When he gave it one last freeing tug, your hair tie came loose amidst the commotion, your hair cascading across your bare torso in fresh, yet slightly damp strands.

Dean came forward to press two distinct kisses against your lips—hasty, but a bold statement in itself—before he leaned back to roll his shoulders and discard his own clothing. Your hands flew to his chest in aid, fingers sliding beneath the isles of his unbuttoned shirt to push it over the slopes of his shoulders. His hands twisted behind himself to pluck each sleeve from his arms with practiced speed, discarding it some place behind him before he was tugging his snugly-fitting tee over his head.

Instantly, your attention lowered down his toned torso, the glorified sight of him causing your core to pulse with desire. You didn’t get to exploit his image for long before he hogged your view with another, fierce tumble of the lips, his hands grabbing at your waist like he’d needed to remember what you felt like. Your tongues found one another with an ease that felt like its fates were tied, swirling about in a seductive dance to the death. Your hands settled at his neck, gently rubbing and kneading the skin as you allowed yourself to melt into his devouring.

When your palms wandered further down the contoured muscle of his broad shoulders, you felt the skin of his left bicep raise in a questionable pattern. The contact over that area made Dean wince into your mouth, and then he withdrew from the kiss with a feral pant, eyes shifting from an insatiable hunger to a more vulnerable uncertainty. It was enough of a reaction to tear your gaze away from him and steal a glance at the mood-killing discovery. But you almost wished you hadn’t stumbled upon it because the sight of a raised, red handprint seared into the flesh of his forearm made your eyes widen in horror.

“Dean—” you breathed, overcome with the instinctive need to trace your hand over the anomaly, but his shoulder withdrew from your curious touch, which called your attention back to him. “What happened?” You asked softly.

He shook his head lightly, taking a moment to acknowledge the marking with a newfound solemness. His chin dipped down for a second, a broken, incomplete noise dangling from his lips. You knew then, that whatever grim reminder had been imbued into this branding was something too fresh to confront at this time, so you made the silent decision not to probe him about it any further.

You moved to cradle his face, tilting it up to you. His expression looked defeated, his eyes sagging with a heavy fatigue. You didn’t doubt that hell had had its tolls—if anything, you were surprised that he’d come out of it in one piece. Physically, at least. Whatever mental deconstruction he’d undergone during his time there was knowledge beyond your grasp, and a conversation for another time. Hell had already taken enough from the both of you; you wouldn’t let it have this moment, too.

“If you want to stop, just say the word,” you told him gently, offering a hearty smile. “We can just lay here and cud—“

“No,” he answered, the hands at your waist tightening with new resolve. “We’re gonna cuddle, alright, but after we’ve had our overdue fun,” he said, a newfound smirk creeping through his evident exhaustion. “I’ve waited too damn long for this day—hell if I pass it up in a blink.”

You loved it when he took charge this way. Your teeth peered through your lips in an exhilarated grin, and then, you let out a yelp of excitement as he pushed you back onto the mattress, his frame following closely in a controlled hover as he positioned himself on top of you. His lips came crashing down onto yours, the heated dynamic between the two of you returning full-forced, as though it’d never been interrupted in the first place.

Your hands wandered messy lines up and down his neck, occasionally dipping down to glide over the curve of his pecks. The heat in your core began to build with every second you spent tumbled within the skilled warmth of his lips, his hands adding fuel to the fire with the way they staggered along your exposed torso to grace any and every inch of your skin.

He pulled away to drag his moist lower lip up your cheek, pressing a kiss to your temple before he whispered into your ear. “I need to feel you. I need to have all o’ you,” he breathed, and then he pulled away as quickly as he’d arrived, leaning back onto his knees as his fingers found firm grip at your shorts.

He tugged the material down mercilessly, pulling your underwear along with it, and you lifted your legs with a giddy laugh to allow him all the access he needed to yank it free. He tossed it to the other end of the room, his hands flying to undo his belt and jeans while his fixated you with focused eyes—like he was silently entertaining all the things he’d like to do to you.

He shed his boots at the foot of the bed to terminate his undressing, and your eyes immediately lowered to the bowing length of his manhood. It felt cheap—ogling him this way, but something about the sight felt so validating that you couldn’t help but stare. Maybe it was knowing that the mere sight of you was enough to spur him on in this manner, and god, you needed him just as much as he evidently needed you.

Your core throbbed more impatiently now, your built-up arousal taking the first of its leave through the slit of your folds. You were tempted to call out to him, to utter the first, desperate words of beckoning, but Dean seemed to clock your needs almost instantly. He leaned back down to you with a charming smirk, one hand propping himself up at the side of your waist while his other took ahold of his manhood.

“Ready, sunshine?” He murmured—low and rough and slightly dazed with his own suffocating arousal.

Your core seemed to answer before you did, the area beaming hot at the mere sound of his voice. You pushed out a needy hum, and Dean wasted no time in sliding his tip between your folds. He breached through your slicked entrance with ease, his head tilting back an inch and his eyes fluttering closed as he pushed out a gruff moan. He sank himself further into you, his length conforming to your walls in perfect unity. Instinctively, your legs propped to give him better access, and the action drew him in even further.

“Fuck,” he murmured lowly, his head then tilting forward as he gathered himself and fully leaned himself down to you. He placed a kiss onto your lips for good measure, both arms scooping beneath yours in a sure grip. His fists balled at either side of your head, and you wrapped your own arms around his neck.

“I need you, Dean,” you cooed into his ear, and he left slip a breathy sound of acknowledgment before he drilled the first thrust into you.

You both harmonised with noises of pleasure, your nails digging into the nape of his neck as his hips began swaying at a faster pace. He leaned his forehead down against yours, lips parted as he fought to steady the feral breaths of pleasure heaving his chest.

Your eyes stuttered closed as his thrusts deepened and deepened, curving against your walls and gliding to meet your sweet spot at just the right angle. Your head burrowed back into your pillow, your lips gaping with a loud moan. It made Dean lower himself onto your lips, taking them between his in a soft, chiding nibble. You breathed into him erratically, releasing noises that gradually became more and more slurred until you became a hot, panting mess.

His own control seemed to slip from his grasp as he began to grunt and whimper against your cheek, his head eventually falling past yours to graze your ear with just the right verbal performance to add to the contractions of that growing ache within.

His thrusts became firmer—but not brutal. They were passionate and needy all at once, but still laced with a sort of caution that only deep admiration could warrant. He gave a few more firm thirsts, both of you heaving against one another with the approach of your climax. Then, with a final jerk of his hips, the knot that had tethered you to one another came undone in a cascading warmth.

You felt it seep from your entrance, and for a second, Dean didn’t stir from atop you. He remained hovered over you, the point of his nose brushing your cheek methodically as he attempted to replenish his lungs and recover from his own bliss.

“Jesus,” he remarked, an impressed chuckle tickling your ear. “All this time apart, and still it doesn’t feel like I ever slipped your spell.”

You released your own breathless chuckle. “I’m usually opposed to captivity of any sort, but in this case, thank god for that.”

Finally, Dean withdrew from inside of you, collapsing to side of the mattress nearest to the door—his space. Rightfully occupied at last. He reached over to pluck some tissues from the nightstand before turning back to you, fumbling the tissue between his fingers before he began dabbing at the moisture along your forehead.

He gazed at you through loving eyes, so soft and vast that it made your heart throb—like you were falling in love all over again. Dean seemed to notice the lovesick look on your face because he smiled with an expression to match. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, and you puckered your own to receive it eagerly. And then he shifted momentarily to clean you down below.

When he came back up to you, he flicked the used tissues off to the side, and then instantly, you were pulled against his chest in a tight embrace. The skin-on-skin contact soothed you, your body relaxing almost instantly within his firm hold—a type of pressure therapy that only worked because it was him. It felt so safe and natural, so you melted further into him, and the hand he’d cupped around the back of your hair began to massage a soothing pattern into your scalp.

Everything about this moment was enough to lull you into a much needed state of relaxation, your body finally unwinding after months of being held together at the threads. Your eyes drifted close, your breathing deepening with the newfound peace.

“You know,” Dean said suddenly, beckoning to your senses. Your eyes remained closed, but you hummed softly to acknowledge him. “Down there, time works differently.” That piqued your interest enough to part you eyes in narrow slits. “You said I’ve been gone for four months? Well, for me, it’s been forty years.”

Your eyes widened fully now, your lips split with some bewildered gasp. “Dean,” you sympathised softly, hand moving from its place at his chest to stroke along his cheek. “I’m so sorry—that sounds awful.”

He shifted to place a kiss on the first part of your palm he could reach. “It ain’t your fault,” he assured you thinly, his eyes bowing under his own exhaustion—as if the mere recollection drained him. “If anythin’, you got me through it. I don’t have to tell you just how shitty things are down in Satan’s basement,” he laughed, but you knew there was no real humour behind it, only pain. “But you. . . just thinkin’ o’ you. . . rememberin’ what I’ve gotta fight for, it kept me sane. Strong.”

You smiled weakly, his words evoking a mixture of warmth and guilt all at once. You appreciated that you’d been able offer him some sort of comfort in your mere memory, but at the same time, you wished he hadn’t needed it to begin with.

Hell was no place for a good man like him.

“Well, you’re back now,” you offered softly, your hands shifting to wrap around his torso in a hug. His own arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you so tightly against him that you thought your beings might finally form a physical union to mirror the spiritual tying of your souls.

“And I’m here to stay,” he finished in a faint murmur, the words—the promise—hot against the crown of your head.

Those words lingered in your mind as you eventually drifted into a sleep, the steady sound of his breathing the last thing you needed to loosen your grip on reality. Darkness came to claim you, and this time, you welcomed it eagerly.

When you roused into the waking world, your room was fully lit with the tell of noon. The finding was indication enough that you’d stolen the sleep of a lifetime, and there was no lingering heaviness perched on your lids this time around. It filled you with a sense of satisfaction, and you blinked a few times to ground your bleary senses.

When you stirred against the sheets, you heaved a deep breath, your lungs expanding around a newfound sense of inner peace. Instinctively, your arm reached across the mattress to claim the touch of man you loved, but where you expected to feel the warmth of his skin, you felt nothing but the cool, empty space of the comforters.

With a jolt, you sat yourself up, head swivelling about the room with a sense of panic. Dean was nowhere to be found. Your mind instantly began reeling with endless possibilities, your breathing elevating with a growing sense of panic—had you imagined it all? Had he ever been here to begin with? Had you finally snapped and gone insane?

But when you took a moment to lower your head and drink in your frame, you found yourself to be as bare as when you’d fallen asleep. You shifted to the edge of the mattress, feeling some slither of relief that your clothes were where you’d left them—discarded about the room in ruthless bundles. And then, out of instinct, your eyes wandered over to your desk chair, where you expected to greet the leather jacket that had become a pivotal part of your morning routine.

Only, your heart lurched when the chair glared back at you with a bare rim—the jacket nowhere in sight.

Beyond the walls, mingled laughter brightened the atmosphere. The sound made you slip from the mattress almost instantly, where you darted about the room to gather your scattered pyjamas in a hurry before slipping it over your frame. You dashed toward the bedroom door, twisting the handle with anticipation before you practically hurled yourself into the hallway.

When you entered into the open-plan living room, you found that Dean and Sam were weaving rather chaotic ant trails around the kitchen’s floor, each brother tending to steaming dishes that you were too far away to appreciate in detail. But you weren’t paying much attention to it, anyway. You were far too focused on watching Dean, as though you’d had to solidify the mental image of his presence—to believe that he was really here, and here to stay. And the best part of it all is that he was wearing the leather jacket you’d thought would never come to crown another set of shoulders again. It was the last image you needed to place the final puzzle piece in your heart—no, you felt truly fulfilled.

Some part of you had thought—just for a second—that your reunion had been a figment of your imagination. But now, you could breathe a little easier knowing that Dean had truly returned, rooted in flesh as he drifted about the kitchen with an extra skip in his step.

Just then, he spun on his heels to nick something off the counter, his head lifting in your direction as he finally noticed your loitering figure. “Second g’mornin’ to you, sunshine,” he called to you, birthing a cheeky smirk. He flashed a quick glance at Sam before turning back to you. “In case you were wonderin’, Sammy here’s all caught up,” he said. “So let’s skip the big, mushy family reunion and get movin’ on those damn tacos. I’m starvin’”.

“Tacos?” You echoed with a light laugh.

Sam appeared at his big brother’s side, beaming so brightly, it was almost blinding. “We’re having tacos for lunch. Everything’s basically finished,” he piped in, casting a pleading glance in your direction. “Would you mind helping me plate it?”

Your heart settled as you drank the both of them in. This was the life you’d come to miss so dearly, and you couldn’t help but smile appreciatively. You jerked your chin in Dean’s direction. “Why don’t you make him do it?” You teased, padding your way over to the kitchen island.

“Call it a family discount,” Dean chuckled smugly, rounding the counter to draw up at your side. “Or, y’know, the breakin’ free from hell card.”

You shook your head lightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Isn’t it a little too soon?” You scoffed.

“You let me worry ‘bout my own shit,” he replied, gracing you with a charming wink.

You didn’t offer anything further as you turned your attention down to the prepped toppings spread out across the counter—mince, lettuce, guacamole, chilli sauce, salsa, cheese and the taco shells themselves. You reached for the empty plates and began topping each one with the hollow taco shells, moving to fill the first one with the toppings.

Dean snuck up behind you, his hands finding grip at your waist while his chin came to rest atop your shoulder. His lips grazed your ear. “Thank you for lookin’ after my jacket,” he murmured. “I didn’t think I’d be seein’ this old thing again.”

You smile at his words, hands shifting to stuff the taco with the next pick of toppings. “My reason for keeping it was more selfish than that,” you admitted. “I just couldn’t bear to move it. It would’ve felt too final.”

He hummed a noise of understanding, a soft kiss gracing the side of your neck. “The only thing that’s final is that I’m back,” he said. “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout that anymore, alright?”

“I know,” you murmured, and Dean squeezed you in a light hug, but continued to keep you tucked within his hold as you finished stuffing the taco. You lifted it over your shoulder, carefully guiding it toward his lips.

He released an approving noise before leaning forward to accept your offering in a gluttonous chomp, his lips practically smothering your fingers as though it were deemed part of the meal. You giggled at the feeling, taco fragments scattering across your shoulder as he chewed the food intently.

“How does it taste?” You asked him, turning your head to get a better view of his expression.

His eyes did a roll of appreciation, his cheeks swelled with the large bite. He hummed a string of approval, coupled with a content, repeating nod. Once he gave a hearty swallow, he cleared his throat in satisfaction.

“Tastes like sunshine.”

──────────────────────

a/n ─ can you tell i had the time of my life writing this?? can you tell?? anon i love your mind so so much please never stop your special creativity. i will be tending to my other requests soon, and i encourage you all to keep on sending them through. i appreciate you ALL and your lovely ideas, as well as the support and trust you have in me to flesh out your fantasies 🫶 now, it’s literally almost 4 am as i publish this so nighty night beautiful people!

thank you for reading! all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated

tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @fallbhind @bohemianblasphemy @figthoughts @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @floralscented

comment/message me to be added to/removed from the taglist for any future jensen ackles works!

other works ─ supernatural masterlist

© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[onlymingyus]

Deny

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader x jake sim (enhypen)

genre; smut (minor dni), mild angst, toxic themes, fluff, comedy

summary; When your boyfriend's stepbrother spends the summer with you things get a lot more interesting for you and a lot more complicated for him.

content warnings; reader is around the same age as mingyu, jake is younger, college au, stepsibling au, poly themes, "cheating" themes, teasing -- eating/drinking, alcohol, sunghoon/heeseung side characters, other cameos mentioned.

smut warnings; Dom!mingyu, sub!reader, sub!jake, mild stepcest, some mild mlm, semi-protected sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, pet play (names and degradation), fingering, oral (m & f receiving/giving), masturbation, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, purposeful exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, impact play, cum eating, praise/degradation, pet names/degrading names, dumbification, panty fetish, sub/Dom themes -- patreon bonus has it's own warnings

w/c; 27.1k and some change (34k ~ patreon) 

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and as always giving me the courage to finish something when i feel like it's going to crash and burn. this one is a lot and i didn't mean for it to be as long as it is. it's very dirty and heavy on kinks. if this isn't for you, i completely understand. i just let myself enjoy writing and getting into a story, but i do hope if you read you enjoy it!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Baby… He's lived in a fucking dorm room for half a year. He’s not gonna give a shit if his pillows are fluffed.” 

Making a face as you mock Mingyu’s words, you continue what you were doing. You didn’t care what his stepbrother Jake was used to. You were only concerned with what he was going to get while he was staying with you and Mingyu for the summer. “Gyu, can you please put extra towels in the spare bathroom like I asked?” 

Scoffing, Mingyu leans his head back and nods before turning out of the room to do as he is told. He loved you and he had a deep respect for his family; that was the only reason he was willing to deal with this shit. Getting a place with you—that was a simple decision—but you turned into hostess of the year when someone came to visit and it was even worse when you found out the guest was staying long-term. To Mingyu, the guest in question didn’t need the red carpet laid out for him—it was just his little brother; more than that, he wasn’t even that close with Jake. 

Mingyu's mother and Jake’s father had met when Mingyu was in his first year of college; Jake had been in high school so there had never really been that time to connect. It wasn’t that Mingyu didn’t want to see Jake as his brother, but it was just easier to be his friend. You, on the other hand, had been in Mingyu’s life almost as long as Jake had. You had always adored Mingyu’s stepbrother. It was all too easy for you to harbor a soft spot for the awkward teenager who seemed to have a small crush on you. 

“He’s not even getting here until later this evening…” 

You could still hear Mingyu sulking from across the hall as he folded towels and placed them in the cabinet. This was going to be an adjustment for everyone, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit excited about it all. You had finally gotten the house exactly how you wanted it and now you were going to have one more person to share it with. On top of that, you hoped that Mingyu and Jake might bond a bit over the summer before he would head back to his dorm and back to barely answering texts or calls. 

“Well, when he does get here, I’m sure he’s going to appreciate the towels and the comfy bed.” Sliding your hands around Mingyu’s waist, you smile against his back, feeling him take in a deep breath at your touch. “Thank you for letting him stay.” 

Sighing, Mingyu turns in your arms to slide his hands along your hips, taking a step towards you. "Well, he’s my family, so I don’t know why you are thanking me.” Watching your lips pull up into a smile as he leads you back towards the sink, Mingyu narrows his eyes, letting his fingers tighten on your hips over your leggings. “He’s not a kid anymore, Y/N, so don’t treat this like I’m giving you a doll to play with. I know that look.” 

“Gyu, I’m not! I know he’s not a kid.” Pouting into your words, you furrow your brows when Mingyu lifts you from the ground, placing you on the countertop next to the sink. “I never treated him like—” 

"Oh, I know exactly how you treated him. You babied the hell out of him.” Settling between your thighs, Mingyu reaches up with one hand to brush his fingers along your neck, letting you lean into his touch. “I’m not upset at you, honey. I’m just sayin’, he’s 22 years old.” 

“You were still a baby at 22.” Shrugging, you smile into your words, making Mingyu narrow his eyes playfully at you. Fingers grip your thigh tightly as he sighs your name, brushing his lips against yours before pulling away, daring you to chase him. 

“Yeah? It’s only 6 am, baby... I got two hours before I have to be at work. How about I show you how much I’ve grown up, huh?” 

Squealing in delight, you cling to your boyfriend’s shirt as he lifts you once again, this time putting you over his shoulder so that you feel the blood rush to your head with each one of his large steps towards the bedroom. “Ming—Ah! Gyu!” The sting of Mingyu’s hand coming down hard on your ass has you kicking your legs under his strong grip before he uses the back of his heel to kick the door shut. 

Resting the phone between his shoulder and his ear, Jake wrinkles his nose, doing his best to balance the bag on his arm and put in the door code he was given. “Nah, man… They both work until like 6 or something. Mingyu told me they’d bring home food at least.” 

“You got it fuckin’ made, that’s all I’m saying.” Wiping down another table, Sunghoon swipes the cash left under a plate and pockets the tip before sighing loudly. “You don’t gotta be at your folks place; you aren’t spending your money, and you get to see Y/N.” 

Glancing around as he kicks his shoes off next to the door, Jake drops his duffle bag and furrows his brows. “Yeah, whatever. I—I haven’t seen Mingyu in a year and Y/N…” Your name made Jake feel like his mouth was dry. It was stupid that he still had some ridiculous crush on his stepbrother’s girlfriend, but you had been like a sexual awakening for Jake. “I haven’t seen her in forever. She didn’t come to the house the last time he did, so it’s whatever. I gotta go. Gonna figure out this place and put my shit away.” 

Sunghoon wasn’t an idiot; he knew that Jake still had a thing for you. No matter how many times Jake tried to date or even just get his dick wet for a night—they weren’t living up to the legend that was Y/N. “Yeah, sure. Let me know how it goes later. I wanna know how fuckin’ hot Y/N is now.” 

That was enough to get Jake to hang up the phone. It wasn’t the first time that he had hung up on his best friend and it wouldn’t be the last. Shoving the phone into his jacket pocket, Jake picks his duffle bag back up and purses his lips before slowly making his way through the house. It was nice—nicer than what he would figure his stepbrother would be living in, but then again, you were living with him now and it was so obvious. It smelled good, like candles and perfume. There wasn’t shit laying around everywhere, but Mingyu had never been one to be messy either. 

Finally moving up the stairs, Jake glances to the right down the hall and then the left. Mingyu had told him that he was to the right and that his bathroom was across the hall. If that was where he was staying then—curiosity often killed the cat. Adjusting the bag on his arm, Jake glanced back down the stairs before taking a left and slowly opening the first door he came to, only to be hit with a strong wave of the perfume he had picked up on downstairs. 

The bedroom was a bit less neat than the rest of the house, as if you and Mingyu had been in a rush this morning—probably his fault Jake realizes as he looks around a picture catching his eye. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen pictures of you and Mingyu recently; he followed you both on Instagram and his stepbrother was addicted to attention, but there was something about this one and it being on the bedside table. You were gorgeous and Jake could feel the lump in his throat getting stuck as his eyes followed the way Mingyu’s arms protectively wrapped around you. He understood why... if you were his, he’d probably act the same fucking way. 

Closing the door behind him, Jake shakes his head to clear it before finally moving back down the hall and opening the doors that would belong to him for the entirety of the summer. He hadn’t expected much, just a bed and a shower, but what he found was so much more. There was no way that Mingyu had gone through all this effort to make his room look this comfortable and to stock his bathroom with this much stuff; no, this had to be your doing. 

Laying his bag on the bed, Jake runs his hand over the comforter and then pushes down on the pillow, feeling how it springs back up under his palm. This was nicer than his bed at home and a hundred times nicer than his dorm; he was already feeling spoiled. With one glance across the hall, Jake couldn’t help the way his lips pulled up into a smile before he tugged some shorts and a t-shirt from his bag and sighed in relief at the idea of a comfortable shower. 

You weren’t exactly sure what you expected when you got home. Mingyu was bound and determined that you were not going to change your routine just because Jake was staying with you and him, but you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous as soon as you stepped through the door and saw the extra pair of shoes. Taking a deep breath, you shake out your hands and nod once before dropping off your purse like you always do and jogging up the steps, only stopping long enough to glance towards Jake’s room, seeing the door closed. 

Another thing you had promised to do was not to crowd him or make him feel like anything was expected of him. If he wanted to hang out with you and Mingyu, he was welcomed to, but neither of you would force it—but as you looked at his closed door, you couldn’t help but think of the sweet boy that you had last seen before he started college. Swallowing hard, you press your lips together and work up a bit of confidence before letting out a breath as you turn towards your bedroom. “Hi, Jake! I’m home.” 

Glancing up from his laptop as he hears your voice, Jake’s eyes widen when you say his name. He has to instantly fight the urge to slide off the bed and go find you, but that wouldn’t be very chill of him and Jake Sim was a chill guy—at least that was what he was reminding himself as he steadied his breath and stared at the video on his laptop screen. “I—ok!” 

You’d take it. That was better than nothing; at least you knew he was alive behind the door. Mingyu said he wasn’t your doll, that he wasn’t a child you were taking care of, but right now he could have fooled you into thinking he was the same kid that you knew back when you first got together with Mingyu. “‘Kay…cool. Gyu will be home in like an hour; he’s bringing home some dinner. I’m gonna shower and then watch something downstairs.”

What did you want him to say? What was Jake supposed to reply to after learning that information? He already knew that his brother was picking up food, but learning that you were going to shower and watch television—did you want him to watch something with you? By the time that Jake decides that maybe that’s what you were hinting at, it’s been long enough that he’s heard the water turn on and then turn off; your shower finished before he is on his feet and pacing at his door and opening it, trying to keep his mouth closed.  

Fuck. Holy shit. No picture could do you justice. Especially not when you were standing in the hall in short cotton shorts that barely peeked out from under what was probably one of Mingyu’s shirts as you ran a towel over your head to dry off. 

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you hum in surprise and out of happiness that Jake decided to come out of his room, but it’s short lived when you see him for the first time. What happened to the awkward, almost geeky-looking kid that you knew? This wasn’t that kid; he had been replaced by someone who had grown into his features and his looks seemingly overnight—Mingyu had been right, he wasn’t a kid anymore. “Oh… Hi—hey Jake. How was the bus here?” 

Taking a breath to get over your nerves, in an attempt to push past the shock of seeing Jake all grown up, you toss the used towel into the hamper and flash him a sweet smile before heading towards the stairs, not waiting for him to answer you. It was better than staring at him like an idiot and you could hear him following behind you down the stairs, his accent a bit thicker as he swallows hard, letting his eyes travel along your backside. 

“It was alright. Uh, thanks—thanks for letting me stay here and for all the stuff in my room.” There was more that Jake wanted to say but as he worked his eyes back up your legs, moving into the living room, you turned to sit on the couch and he had just made it back to your stomach before looking away quickly.  

“No biggie. I wanted you to be comfortable while you were here with us.” You pull your legs under you as you reach for the remote on the coffee table. Tilting your head, you watch Jake stand awkwardly between the living room and the kitchen as you pat the couch beside you. “You can sit. Here, or if you want the recliner. Your brother loves the reclin—” 

“Here’s good, Y/N... Thanks.” Plopping on to the other side of the couch, Jake holds his phone tightly in his palm as you study him for a long moment before finally looking towards the television and scrolling through apps. When you finally settle on a show, Jake lets out a breath and relaxes into the cushions, biting at his bottom lip as he scrolls through his phone, seemingly not paying attention to the television in front of him. 

Jake: I’m not gonna make it dude. SOS 

Hoon: What’s up? 

Clearing his throat, Jake glances at you from the corner of his eye as he shifts on the couch so that he can rest in the corner to get more comfortable. Watching you over his phone, he carefully takes a picture of you letting out a breath before switching his phone back over to his messages, sending the picture to Sunghoon and waiting for his reaction. 

Hoon: Nothing can be done. RIP 

Hoon: Where's Mingyu? 

Jake: Not home yet. She wanted me to watch something with her. He’s gonna kill me right? Seeing her dressed like that with me here

Hoon: In the ground, 6 fuckin feet 

Jake: Worth it… 🥵

Pushing the door closed, Mingyu leans his head towards the sound of the television as he balances the takeout bags in one hand and his work bag in the other. Normally you’d be at the door saying hello to him but maybe you just hadn’t heard him come in? “Baby?” 

Jake watches, a small disappointed breath slipping from between his lips when you jump up from the couch so fast for his brother. Of course you would; it was stupid for him to think otherwise. You had been with his brother for years; his family was expecting Mingyu to put a ring on your finger at any point now, but that still didn’t make it any less disappointing to watch you whine his name as you moved through the kitchen towards him, leaving Jake behind. 

“Hi! Oh my god, the food smells so good, I’m so hungry.” Moving to your toes, you kiss Mingyu before taking the takeout from him. “I missed you.” 

Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide the grin on his face when you fawn over him. You acted like his pretty little wife already, even without a ring on your finger. He loved getting a kiss from you when he got home from work and hearing about your day, but today was already different as he followed you into the kitchen after putting his bag with yours in the foyer. Nodding to Jake on the couch, Mingyu’s brow raises as he lets out a soft breath, sliding a hand over your hip. “Hey, Jake. Hungry? I got pasta; it’s Y/N’s favorite.” 

It was clear that you and Mingyu, but mostly you, were trying to keep the vibe chill and not let any tension build, but that felt almost impossible. Swallowing hard, Jake runs his fingers through his hair, drawing your attention to the longer length ending at the nape of his neck. 

"Uh, yeah, I’m hungry. Pasta is great.” Sliding from the couch, Jake puffs up his cheeks with a deep breath before sitting at the kitchen island while you work to plate some of the pasta for each of you. “How—um, was work okay, Mingyu?” Jake wasn’t great at this, and neither was Mingyu. It wasn’t either of their fault, just a product of their mistimed relationship. 

Jake had another brother; he lived with his mother back in Australia. Mingyu’s little sister was his pride and joy, even if he rarely got to see her as she studied abroad. To you, that meant that Jake and Mingyu should have tried to make the most of their situation, but it wasn’t something you’d ever really understand. It was easier for them to talk about sports, music, chicks—nothing deep like real brothers, and that was okay for the most part in both of their opinions. 

“It was good. Same shit, different day.” Smirking a bit at his own words, Mingyu sighs when you give him a disappointed glance. He knew what it was about; he wasn’t trying hard enough. “I mean, I—it’s just a lot of office politics and shit, dude. It’d bore the fuck out of you. Tell me about school. How are your friends? How’s the girls?” 

That was more like it, and yet at the mention of girls, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Sliding a plate in front of Jake, you almost coo in appreciation when he smiles at you and thanks you under his breath. “‘Course Jakey. Eat up…” Putting a plate in front of Mingyu, you pick up your own fork, trying to keep up with their conversation, even as Jake stumbles over his words hearing you call him the nickname you used to call him before he left for college. 

“It’s—ya know, school. It’s okay.” Pushing the fettuccine around on the plate, watching the sauce spread along the ceramic. “I—my friends. They’re good. Sunghoon stayed close for the summer too. He might come by some time if you guys don’t care.” 

Before Mingyu can even speak, his mouth full of fettuccine alfredo, you wipe your lips and hum in appreciation. “Of course. It’s your house too, Jakey. As long as you are staying with us, you don’t have to ask things like that, okay?” 

That was going to be easier said than done, especially when Mingyu sighs and gives you a long look before faking a smile at Jake. “Yup, what Y/N said.” Taking another bite of pasta, Mingyu sighs out of his nose as he chews, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted. It was almost as if Jake was avoiding things and like he was embarrassed. He had never been embarrassed to talk about girls before. “Glad classes are going well, but that’s not all uni is for. Spill, dude, got a girlfriend we should be worried about you inviting over too?” 

Jake had been doing okay with the conversation. You were so sweet,besides being incredibly distracting by just existing. He was able to eat and when he had started to take a big drink of his water, that’s when Mingyu asked him that question. Coughing as he feels the water start to burn his chest, Jake shakes his head and blinks moisture from his eyes as you look at him with concern, while Mingyu just chuckles and leans over to smack him on the back hard. 

“Breathe… Jesus christ. You alright? The conversation that difficult to—” 

“No! I—no, Mingyu. I don’t have a girl—girlfriend. I wouldn’t invite a chick over here anyway. That’s not—that’d be rude to Y/N, right?” Shaking his head, Jake looks down, avoiding Mingyu’s eyes, but mostly yours as you tilt your head. 

“‘Kay, no girls. I’m picking on you, Jake.” Picking up the beer in front of him, Mingyu takes a long sip before clearing his throat and sitting back to watch his stepbrother push his food around a bit more. "But I appreciate you worrying about Y/N and if she’s comfortable with who you might bring around. You know—” Meeting your eyes, Mingyu sits forward, resting his forearms on the countertop, even though he hears you sigh, having a feeling where this is going. “This might be a good time to go over the house rules.” 

Jake should have known it wasn’t going to be as easy as just showing up and getting a room. Swallowing hard, he nods before taking another sip of his water, hoping it will calm his growing nerves. 

“Cool. First, like Y/N said, you can have guests over; we apparently don’t care, however—” 

It sounded a lot like Mingyu cared and it was making Jake wish he could crawl into a hole. 

“Just don’t have parties in our house. I know I sound like Mom and your dad, but sorry to be an asshole. You don’t pay the mortgage, and once you do pay one, you’ll get it.” 

Leaning your head back briefly, you sigh and slide off your chair, feeling full from not only the food but Mingyu’s bullshit. You loved him completely, but you knew this whole dominance act was coming and it was the one thing he asked for you not to get in the way of. It was taking everything in you not to call him an old man and to tell him it was probably getting close to him for him to take out his dentures and crawl in bed. He treated Jake more like a child than you were. 

“Two, I know you have your part-time job. I don’t expect you to pay for anything while you are here, however—” 

Oh my god. Jake was literally sinking down in his chair as his stepbrother kept saying however with each rule. Glancing towards you, he says how you were mocking Mingyu and that was the only thing keeping him sane, though it was almost causing him to crack a bit of a smile. 

“If there are special things you want to eat, buy them yourself. If you see something with my name on it, or Y/N's, use your brain.” Furrowing his brow at Jake’s shit eating grin starting to spread across his face, Mingyu glances in the direction that his brother keeps looking only to see you mouthing along with him, mocking him. “If you two are done? I’m trying to be the fucking responsible one and lay some foundational rules so this house doesn’t become chaos and my girlfriend and brother seem to think I’m a jo—” 

“No! What! No, man. I’m listening. No parties. Get my own snacks. Don’t eat shit with your name on it. See!” Sitting up quickly, Jake slides his hands over his knees and grimaces into his smile as Mingyu stares at him. 

You, on the other hand, just laugh and hold up your hands as if you are surrendering. “I’m sorry, baby. Go back to your rules. I’ll leave you and Jake to talk and finish cleaning up.” 

Watching you move out of the room with a smirk on your face, Mingyu sighs and shakes his head. “Brat… Anyway, I’m glad at least one of you was listening to me. That brings me to the most important rule, alright?” 

Jake had been watching you leave too. He couldn’t help it. You were in those little shorts and they hugged your leg right under your ass cheeks. God, how was Mingyu okay with you wearing them with him around? This was crazy! Hearing Mingyu say his name, Jake blinks and meets his brother’s eyes, nodding along with him. 

“Don’t make Y/N clean up after you, got it? She already is trying to baby you. She thinks you’re still a kid.” Waiting to see the acknowledgement in Jake’s eyes, Mingyu nods and sits back in his seat, bringing his beer to his lips and taking the last couple of sips. “If anything, I don’t know, show a little respect and appreciation and help her—us out? I like that you’re here, okay? I really do. I’m just not babysitting. I’m spending time with you.”  

The other rules had made sense to Jake, but this last one got to him. He really understood why Mingyu had needed to say it. If the situation were reversed, he probably would have done the same thing. Nodding, Jake slides off his chair and picks up his plate, using his foot to open the trash can so he can slide the last of his pasta into it. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking care of myself, Mingyu. I’m not gonna take advantage of you and Y/N. I’m thankful you all are letting me crash here, alright? Seriously. I know I’m not a kid.” 

Watching Jake move to the sink with his plate and glass, Mingyu sighs into a nod, feeling like his words made the impact he wanted them to despite your reaction. “Good, and like I said, happy you are here, man. Looking forward to the uh—what did Y/N call it?” 

Glancing over his shoulder as he opens the dishwasher, putting his dishes into it like a puzzle piece, Jake can’t help but smile as Mingyu makes a face recalling your words. 

“Our brotherly bonding time over the summer.” Shaking his head, Mingyu finally gets to his feet and starts to take care of his dishes when Jake reaches for them, muttering he’ll do it. “Thanks… You don’t have to.” 

“I don’t mind. You worked all day and like you said, ‘help out’ and shit.” 

Smirking, Mingyu ruffles the top of Jake’s hair and sighs into a long breath, feeling the length of the day weighing on him as the silence of the house starts to set in, knowing you are upstairs. “Alright. I’m heading up. I need a shower and as lame as it is, we turn in kind of early since we get up early.” 

Carefully fitting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, Jake snorts out a laugh and pulls his head away from Mingyu’s hand before glancing towards him as he gestures towards the stairs. “It is lame; you sound like our parents... but I get it. I’m pretty tired today anyway. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gyu.” 

It had been a long time since Jake had called Mingyu anything other than his name. Hearing the shorted version of his name made Mingyu’s lips pull up into a bit of a smile as he rolled his eyes at the parent comment. “Yeah, night Jake.” 

By the time that Jake made it back up to his room, it seemed like everything was pretty quiet. Either Mingyu had taken the quickest shower possible or he had changed his mind. Settling back on his bed, Jake sighs, propping the pillows under his head as he balances his laptop on his stomach, getting ready to press play on the video he had been playing earlier when his brows furrow. He had to be hearing things. There was a linen closet separating your and Mingyu’s room from his but as another moan and the sound of the headboard smacking into the wall reach his ears, Jake knows it’s not his imagination. 

Wrapping his hand around your throat, right under your jaw, Mingyu groans low against your lips as you whimper underneath him. He hadn’t taken the time to prep you, but after fucking you this morning, you didn’t need nearly as much help to take his cock as you usually did. “Being so fucking loud, baby.” 

You weren’t trying to be. It wasn’t your plan for this to happen but the moment that Mingyu had come upstairs and seen you in just his shirt and your panties laying in the center of the bed, there wasn’t much to be done. You had been a brat downstairs and though you hadn’t meant to rile him up, that was exactly what you had done. 

“Such a pretty little slut, aren’t you? Taking my cock so good.” Mingyu grins against your bottom lip as he brings his free hand under your thigh, pushing it up towards your stomach so he can bury himself into you deeper. With one hard thrust, the bed meets the wall hard and Mingyu thinks about the sound for a moment before it leaves his mind at the sound of you sobbing his name. “What, brat? Just a bratty little slut who only listens when she’s stuffed with a cock, right?” 

Staring at the ceiling, Jake takes a deep breath, realizing just how much of his stepbrother’s dirty talk he can hear and how each one of your breathy moans goes straight to his cock. It was enough that he looked at you and lusted after you; this was another level. This was so fucking wrong. Jake knew the moment he realized what he was hearing; he should have put his headphones over his ears and tried to forget about it, but then you cried out like you were seeing heaven and Jake wanted to know what you looked like right now. 

“Shit—” This wasn’t his fault. Sure, headphones, whatever, but he wasn’t the one who was fucking with a guest right down the hall. Surely both of you realized that he could probably hear... right? God, why did that make Jake’s cock twitch harder in his shorts? Biting his bottom lip, Jake considers for a split second taking his cock out and wrapping his hand around it—giving into temptation—but one loud cry of Mingyu’s name as him putting his headphones tightly over his ears. 

Not his. You weren’t his. You’d never be his. 

Goddammit, Jake wanted just one fuckin’ chance to make you scream like that. 

Closing his eyes tightly, Jake turns his movie up as loud as possible and tries to ignore how hard his cock is and how he can still hear every single time the bed hits the wall. 

“Look at this, you brute." Whining at Mingyu, you lift your dress up to your hips to show him the bruise forming on your ass cheek from where he had gripped you so hard the night before. 

With a cup of coffee in his hand, Mingyu leans against the counter and smirks at his handiwork, admiring the bruise rather than feeling bad about it. He loved seeing his marks covering your body. He knew there were more, but that one was probably the most tender at the largest for now. 

“I—sorry!” Turning around quickly, Jake averts his eyes, seeing you with your hand holding your dress up and your ass exposed to Mingyu. If he had been smarter, he would have stayed quiet and enjoyed the view for a moment longer, but panic had set in. 

Mingyu laughs and helps you smooth your dress back over your ass, purposely pressing into the tender area, watching you muffle a whine as you stumble away from him and towards the fridge. “No harm done, Jake. Why are you up so early? Work today?” 

Checking over his shoulder that you are covered, Jake hopes his face, ears, and neck aren’t turning as red as they feel. He watches how Mingyu sips at his coffee like he has no troubles in the world; he’s on top of the world, and Jake realizes that he probably is. Jake kinda knows what that feeling is like—getting some really good pussy—the kind of pussy that makes you feel like you've conquered something impossible, but Mingyu gets you anytime he wants. 

“Not until around noon. I have a short shift today and then I’m gonna hang out with Hoon for a bit." Meeting your eyes, Jake starts to shy away when you smile at him so sweetly he can’t do it. Instead, he matches your smile and takes the glass of juice from you, whispering a thank you. “You both work today, right?” 

You start to slide on to a seat, but grimace, only sitting on one side, feeling the tender spot on your right side that causes you to shift uncomfortably and glare at Mingyu. “Gyu does, but I work from home on Friday’s. So you’ll have me annoying you unfortunately, Jakey.” 

“Oh—you’d never… I mean, I don’t want to be in the way of you working, Y/N. I can go hang out in my room.” 

Stepping closer to you, Mingyu sets his empty cup on the counter so he can slide his hand along your right hip. You hear him chuckle when you jump slightly at his touch and mutter his name before meeting his eyes before his lips brush over yours. “What? I’m trying to say goodbye, beautiful. Give me a kiss?” 

Jake starts to look away, but he doesn’t fully. His eyes only glance away and back when you sigh a small fine on Mingyu’s lips before giving into the tender kiss. The air felt different than it had last night. Maybe the conversation he had with Mingyu had made a difference in their relationship—maybe Mingyu getting laid had put him into a better mood, but as Jake watched you smile into the kiss, he couldn’t help but furrow his brows curiously. 

“Love you, baby. Have a good day.” Mingyu loved leaving you breathless. He knew he was being a bit rude to Jake with all the PDA, but it wasn’t really public. It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault that Jake was in his kitchen and he wasn’t going to change his affection for you when he was madly in love with you and you made him feel insane by just existing. 

Sighing softly, Mingyu presses one more kiss to your cheek before stepping back and picking up his jacket, finally meeting Jake’s eyes, surprised to see him looking in his direction. He had half expected him to be looking away like he had when your dress had been pulled up, but no—Jake wasn’t shying away this time. Interesting. What was that about? With no time to figure it out, Mingyu smirks slightly and tilts his head, half challenging the look on his brother’s face. “Have a good day, Jakey. Remember the rules.” 

Mingyu had never called him Jakey; he could feel the lump in his throat, but Jake just nodded and muttered his goodbye. That had been weird and slightly unsettling. There was a lot of work out mentally, but Jake didn’t have time when your sweet voice brought him back to reality as you both heard the front door shut. 

“That good for breakfast?” 

Blinking a few times, Jake tilts his head and you smile into a laugh at how cute and puppylike he looks. At times like this, he really reminds you of Mingyu and it’s almost possible to see a “family” resemblance without there being any blood shared. “You are so cute, Jakey. I was asking if pancakes sounded good for breakfast. I’m craving something sweet.” 

Jake sighs, his cheeks once again heating him as he licks his lips, trying to hide how much your works effect him. “Oh. Su–sure, Y/N. Whatever you want.” 

Shaking your head, you giggle as you turn back to the fridge, taking things out for breakfast. Glancing over your shoulder, you find Jake still watching you, his eyes moving over your back and you almost swear lower, before finally he meets your eyes shyly. “Careful, don’t spoil me like that. I’ll get used to you giving me what I want and then you’ll be trapped.” 

You were kidding, right? Obviously… but Jake’s stomach was flipping and his heart was in his throat. He would; he’d give you everything you wanted. Did you want him on his knees for you? Just ask and he’d crawl for you everywhere he went. Did you want him to bring you treats from the restaurant every day? He would. He wasn’t even supposed to use his discount for shit like that—but for you… fuck management. 

“Well—” Scoffing, trying to sound nonchalant, Jake swallows hard and brushes his fingers through his hair unconsciously, drawing your attention not only back to it but also to the definition of the muscles in his arms. He wasn’t as big as Mingyu, nowhere as close, but he wasn’t the scrawny little teen that you knew before. God, you were being reminded at every turn that Jake was all grown up. Using the thin hairtie on his wrist, Jake pulls his hair up into a low bun and smirks slightly at you. “Doesn’t sound half bad. Mingyu seems to be doin’ alright.” 

Oh, you hadn’t expected an answer like that. He was teasing you back? God, why was that making you want to push your thighs together? It was because his words instantly made you start to feel wet. That was crazy. And watching him tie up his hair, you were almost salivating. You were salivating and getting wet over your boyfriend’s stepbrother in your kitchen on a Friday morning when you were supposed to be making him pancakes. This was pathetic. Or was it? He looked like a walking wet dream. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you were doing something wrong. It was just your body’s natural reaction. 

“That so?” Pouring ingredients into the bowl, you watch Jake as his eyes almost boldly move over you now until you meet his eyes and the confidence seems to falter. You see him lick his lips and how he looks down his phone on the counter, fidgeting with it. Maybe he was all talk, but he had started it. “You think Mingyu does anything I want him to? I snap my fingers, say bark, and he answers like a well-behaved dog?” 

Scrolling through Instagram as if it’s a lifeline, Jake’s eyes widen almost theatrically at your words as he glances up at you, then back down at his phone to take a deep breath. “I—what are we even talking about, Y/N? Kinda a weird way to imagine my bro—” 

“You started it, Jakey. Is it too hot in the kitchen?” 

That was fair. You had him there. Smiling as he keeps his head down towards his phone, Jake nods before finally meeting your eyes and holding up a hand as if he’s surrendering. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.” 

You laugh, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stir your pancake batter, watching Jake come to terms with his own teasing. “You weren’t. I was having fun.” Humming softly, you pout at your bowl and look up at Jake before tilting your head. “Chocolate chip pancakes, Jakey?” 

God, you were going to be the cause of his death. Jake’s head was spinning with how you could tease him and then flip the conversation back to breakfast just like that. Nodding, Jake lets out a slow breath and licks his lips, turning his attention back to his phone. “Yeah, sounds yummy.” 

Staring out at the road, Jake shakes his head as Sunghoon turns yet another song off before it finishes. That was one of Park Sunghoon’s fatal flaws and subsequently Jake’s least favorite thing about his best friend. “Dude, if you touch that phone one more fuckin—” 

“What is stuck up your ass? This is my car and my phone.” Sunghoon glances at Jake as he drove, trying to split his attention between the road and his friend. Jake could be moody, but today he had been in a weird mood all day. “You not sleep or—” 

“Sorry.” Jake’s voice was meeker than he meant it to be, but he had a lot on his mind. He was replaying his first week at his brother’s house on repeat in his brain and it was giving him a headache and other issues. “Thanks for the ride home again. Gyu keeps sayin’ that he’s gonna let me use Y/N’s or something, but that feels weird.” 

Shaking head, Sunghoon sighs as the reason for the weird mood comes to light. Jake hadn’t been less open about shit since he had gotten to his stepbrother’s house. It was starting to make Sunghoon worry. Was Jake like a live-in servant or something? Was this a cry for help? Or was something else going on? “I say use it if they are gonna let you. I mean, not like I care driving you around but you’re gonna have to dish out for gas eventually.” 

Groaning under his breath, Jake leans his head back against the headrest and nods along with Sunghoon’s words. “I’ll get you some money, asshole. I just—it’s hard to be around her and her shit, ya know?” 

Finally. The first night was the only night that Sunghoon could get Jake to talk about you and how it was being around the dream girl. It had been radio silence after that and any prodding had only made Jake mad. "Sure, but why? What happened? Did Mingyu get pissed off about something?” 

Jake wished it were that simple. It would be so much easier if his brother were biting his head off about him looking at you or saying something wrong, but no. Shaking his head, Jake knocks his head back against the headrest again and sighs loudly, finally realizing he has to talk about this or it’s going to eat him alive. “I don’t know what I expected living with them. I mean, even you know the stories about Mingyu and how much of a—” 

“Slut?” 

Snorting into a much-needed laugh, Jake nods, starting to relax in the seat even as they start to get closer to your street, knowing he would have to go inside and see you. “Yeah, a slut. He’s practically a legend at uni, but then he met Y/N and blah blah, love of his life; he’s only got eyes for her.” Seeing Sunghoon nod with a small smirk on his lips, Jake sighs and continues. “And you know how much she gets to me. It’s like being put in front of a buffet and being told, ‘Just look at it but don’t touch it.’” 

It had always been that way with you. From the moment that Mingyu had brought you home and introduced you to his family, Jake had been obsessed with you. He dreamed, wished, and prayed to find a girl like you that would take his mind off of you, but that girl so far didn’t fucking exist. “They fuck constantly, Hoon. Loudly. Excessively.” 

While Sunghoon had been paying attention and ready to listen to whatever Jake had been telling him, he hadn’t quite been ready for that. Swerving slightly as he looks at his best friend, Sunghoon opens his mouth and closes it before finally laughing at not only how he had reacted but also Jake's face. Jake looked like he wanted to die or be buried and that was so dramatic. 

“What? So… Let me get this straight.” Glancing into each mirror, Sunghoon hits his blinker and pulls off to the side of the road just outside of your house to park. “You can hear your brother and Y/N fucking on a regular basis?” 

“Almost daily. My headphones block out most of it but their fucking bed hits the wall.” Jake knows he sounds pathetic. He must also look pathetic because Sunghoon is no longer laughing; instead, his brow is raised as he looks towards the house and shakes his head. 

“Dude… It’s weird, but... the spank bank material you are gathering will keep you running for years. Can you hear her?” 

Sunghoon had to be Jake’s strangest friend, and yet he was his best friend for a reason. Jake was lying to him and himself when he gawked at him, his mouth wide in faux horror and disgust, muttering out excuses of why he couldn’t jerk off to you and his brother fucking. 

“I would. I’m just sayin’! The girl of your motherfucking dreams is screaming for more a room over and you aren’t going to picture it’s you while you can and get off to it? Missed opportunity in my humble, fucked-up opinion.” 

Fucked up was right, but correct. God, Jake wanted to scream as he glanced towards the house, seeing the porch light on for him. You always left it on for him when he was coming home for work later. 

“Text me later?” 

Sunghoon’s words bring Jake out of his daze and back to reality as he nods and mutters he will before pushing the car door open. Glancing back at the car, Jake waves before heading up the driveway and finally the steps as he digs out his key with you still on his mind. 

“Just like that. What a good girl.” Groaning under his breath, Mingyu tightens his fingers around your hair as your fingers dig into his thighs. Your throat constricts as you gag around his cock, feeling him thrust his hips up towards your mouth. This hadn’t been the plan, but being home alone with you gave you both the opportunity to enjoy each other like you used to. 

Before Jake was spending time with you and Mingyu, it didn’t matter what room it was or what time of day you might find yourself turned over and your panties around your ankles. It was kind of nice to have a moment of normalcy and to feel completely exposed and overwhelmed as you choked on your boyfriend’s cock in the living room, forgetting about the time. 

Yawning, Jake turns the corner into the kitchen, going towards the fridge to look for leftovers, when he stops in his tracks at the sight in front of him. He had maybe started getting used to hearing Mingyu fuck you, but seeing you with a cock in your mouth was a completely different story. 

“Shi—all of it. Swallow it, baby.” Groaning your name, Mingyu leans his head back as he cums into your mouth, his chest rising and falling quickly, feeling you swallow around his hard cock. He thought he had heard the front door open, but his attention had been clearly elsewhere; that had been until his eyes met Jake’s in the kitchen, seeing his brother’s eyes move from his over you and back up. 

What was there to say or do? Mingyu could move you quickly and get the slowly softening cock out of your mouth, but you were warm and wet. Why would he do that? Especially when Jake wasn’t moving. He looked stunned and something else. Smirking his eyes fixed on Jake’s, Mingyu runs his fingers over your head, whispering praises to you as you giggle, happy to have done a good job. It’s only then does Mingyu see Jake move quickly out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. 

“Pretty girl, enjoy sucking my cock?” 

It was quiet by the time that Jake came out of his bedroom the next morning. He felt a bit mortified about the entire situation. Not only did Mingyu very clearly know that Jake had seen them, but he knew that Jake had watched. The thing that was killing Jake was that Mingyu had let him watch and he hadn’t come in his room to cuss him out or to tell him to pack his shit; there was none of that.

But the worse part was that Jake had stuck to Sunghoon’s advice after the visual inspiration. He had been so hard that he had no choice. He felt like if he didn’t cum, if he didn’t think about you, his cock might fall off. So he had done just that. Jake had laid back on the bed you had set up for him and he had wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it hard and fast until he came hard, cum covering his hand and the front of his shirt as he whispered your name like a prayer. 

Now as he carried his dirty clothes in his hands, Jake glanced around the seemingly empty house timidly until he knew he was actually alone. Relief washing over him, he moved into the laundry room and opened the washer, dropping his clothes along with the freshly cum-stained shirt in. It was a dream come true to have all the amenities of home accessible to him while he was staying with you and Mingyu, especially if he was going to keep fucking up and ruining the limited amount of shit he had brought to wear. 

Pursing his lips, Jake narrows his eyes as the washer settings, hoping he’s done it right before starting to turn out of the room when his eyes land on the basket of laundry in the room near the door. A quick glance inside tells him what he already knew; clearly it was your dirty clothes mixed with Mingyu’s. If he was nice, Jake could have thrown some in with his own. He still could. 

Weighing his options, Jake carefully picks through a few of the clothes to make sure the colors match before bringing the basket closer to the washer, stopping the load he had started adding some to his own. It isn’t until he brings out a lacy pair of your panties that he stops in his tracks, almost dropping them back into the basket before stopping. 

The normal, gentlemanly thing to do would be to either figure out if he could add them to the washer or drop them back into the basket, but Jake was neither a gentleman nor normal as he stared at the lace between his fingers. Taking a breath, he glances towards the open laundry room door, listening for anyone, knowing he’s still alone, before giving into his urges and bringing the panties to his nose and closing his eyes. 

Furrowing his brows, Jake groans under his breath, leaning against the washer with the lace still against his nose even as he opens his eyes. You were perfect. This wasn’t even close to the real thing and it had Jake getting hard in his sweatpants. He didn’t want to add the panties to the washer or the basket so he didn’t. Instead, Jake closed the washer, letting it start, and pushed the basket back where it was before slipping the lace into his pocket. You’d probably wonder what happened to them at some point, but things got lost in the laundry all the time. 

“Jakey!” 

Pouting as you glance over your shoulder at your floor-length mirror, you stretch your fingers but just can’t quite reach the zipper of your dress to zip up your favorite dress. A smile quickly takes the place of your pout when the crack in your door slowly widens and Jake’s eyes meet yours in the reflection before he glances over your body, swallowing hard. 

“Yeah, Y/N? You okay?” God, what were you trying to do to him? It was supposed to be another evening where Jake was going to have the house to himself for most of the evening. You and Mingyu were going to some business dinner with Mingyu’s boss. Sunghoon was going to be over any second, and here you were with your clothes half off...

“Help me, Jakey... My fingers are too short to reach.” 

You had no idea, or maybe you did, the effect of your words on Jake. The way you phrased things, the way you smiled so innocently while looking so incredibly sexy in a dress that hugged your curves so well. Jake stiffles a groan and nods before moving into your bedroom and towards you as you turn towards the mirror. “You look—you are really nice, Y/N.” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you lower your lashes as you meet Jake’s eyes in the mirror, feeling his fingers run along your spine until he finally reaches the zipper, working it up for you. “Thank you. I was hoping I might look better than nice. Pretty maybe? Sexy?” 

Scoffing, Jake has to bite his lips in order not to make any more sound than that when he meets your eyes once again, seeing you holding a necklace up and expecting him to clasp the chain around your neck for you. “You are pretty and sexy. Beautiful even. I’m sorry I didn’t use any of those adjectives before. You make me kinda—” Shaking his head, Jake laughs and furrows his brows, focusing on the small clasp and managing to get the necklace secure for you. “Nervous.” 

Your cheeks heat up slightly at Jake’s compliments, the words reminding you of Mingyu’s and even when the two of you first got together—that new love excitement. “Oh?” Turning towards Jake, standing almost too close to him, you smile, reaching up to push his bangs from his eyes as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why? Do you still have a crush on me, Jakey?” 

Opening his mouth in surprise, Jake wants to answer you—to defend himself when he’s saved by the bell, literally. Turning his head towards the sound of the doorbell, he whispers Sunghoon’s name and you laugh sweetly, leaning to press a kiss to his cheek close to his lips. “Go on. I’ll be down in a bit. Thank you for zipping my dress and helping me with my necklace.” 

If Jake’s face hadn’t been red before, it was now. Running his fingers over the spot where your lips had been, Jake gives you a dopey smile as he takes a step backwards, hitting the end of your bed before almost tripping out of the room and towards the hall. "No—yeah, no problem.” Another ring of the doorbell has Jake moving faster even as you laugh again, enamored by him. “Yeah! Coming! Stop touching the fuckin’ bell, Hoon!” 

Surprised when the door flings open quickly, Sunghoon’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, giving Jake a once-over, seeing how flushed he is. “Were you jerking off? I don’t want to be part of it. Not without a 24-hour notice.” 

"Oh, my fucking god. If you don’t get in the house and shut your fucking mouth—” 

“Fine! But seriously, why are you—oh...” 

Holding onto the banister to keep balance so you can put on your heels, you smile at Jake and Sunghoon, feeling both sets of eyes on you. Jake made you feel a certain way, but Sunghoon was just adorable with how he was gawking at you. “Hi Hoonie! Why don’t you come over more often? You must have girls crawling all over you.” 

You were speaking but Jake couldn’t really keep up. Sunghoon, on the other hand, just smiled sideways and let out a disbelieving breath that you thought he could pull in girls like that. “You—you look hot as fuck, Y/N. Where are you off to?” 

Grabbing your coat, you slip it over your shoulders and hum in appreciation, hearing the door opening again as Mingyu slips inside, already dressed for the night. “Gyu and I have dinner with his boss. Have to make a good impression so he can keep making enough money to afford me.” 

There were a lot of people in his foyer currently, but Mingyu’s eyes quickly found you and moved over you with a mixture of lust and appreciation. “She’s expensive and worth it. Goddamn baby, you look beautiful. You ready to go?” 

Taking his hand, you smile against Mingyu’s lips, having to push him away when his free hand wraps around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss. “Apparently even more than you.” Turning back towards Jake and Sunghoon, you lift your shoulders and meet Jake’s eyes specifically. “There are leftovers in the fridge for you both.” All three watch as a slight pout forms on your lips. “You’ll probably be in bed when we get back, so night Jakey and, oh, bye Sunghoon.” 

Mingyu shakes his head letting you slip out the door before him before he turns back towards Jake barely glancing at Sunghoon. “Probably early morning before we’ll be back, but if you need us just call.” 

“Dude… I’m 22.” 

Laughing, Mingyu starts to turn towards the door before he holds up his finger and leans out the door. “Baby, I’ll be right there. I need my cuff links.” 

Jake and Sunghoon watch Mingyu jog up the stairs, both slightly dazed, before Sunghoon scoffs and pushes Jake’s shoulder. “She’s so fucking hot. Literally, no fuckin’ wonder no chick at uni meets your standards; they have to live up to Y/N? Who’s gonna do that?” 

Starting to tell him to shut up, or at least to lower his voice, Jake starts to speak to Sunghoon when he sees Mingyu back at the end of the stairs with that same smirk on his face that he had seen from the couch. The lump in his throat is hard to swallow but he manages to swallow it as his brother moves back towards him, ruffling his hair and winking at Sunghoon, telling them both to have a goodnight before closing the door behind him. 

"Oh, my... god. Do you think he heard me?” 

“Fuckin’ obviously you, moron.” 

You had enjoyed just enough wine to make you sleepy and feel that euphoric fuzzy kind of numb feeling in your brain. Mingyu’s hand was resting on your thigh as he drove back from the city towards home and you were smiling at the color of the sky. The sun wasn’t quite rising but the moon was starting to set. It was such a funny thing, but so beautiful. 

“Did you have fun, sweetheart?” Mingyu could hear your soft, sweet hums and breaths as you looked around, finally meeting his eyes briefly before he looked back at the road. Giving a gentle squeeze to your thigh, he grins when you giggle under your breath. He loved you all the time, but there was something about you when you were completely relaxed like this. He loved seeing you without a care in the world. 

“So much fun. Do you think your boss liked me? Did—” Hiccuping, you giggle again, putting your fingers to your lips and whispering an apology, finding Mingyu still smiling at you. “Did I make a good impression for you?” 

Mingyu knew what you were asking, but that was the first time in the past hour that you had made his smile fade even slightly. He never wanted you to feel like you had to put on a face or a show for him or anyone else. He knew why you might think you needed to, but that was another reason he hadn’t pulled the ring out of the top of the closet yet and gotten down on one knee. It would put even more pressure on you to perform and to be Mrs. Kim. He wanted to give you more time to just be Y/N. His sweet, precious, perfect Y/N. 

“You are perfect. I don’t care what Mr. Lee thinks of me... and I—baby, it’s not that I don’t care what he thinks about you, but I don’t value his opinion. I only value you.” 

Your lips form a pout and Mingyu can literally see the tears forming on your eyes. He knows you are an emotional drinker. He hopes the tears aren’t from disappointing you or making you sad—

“Why would you say that to me? Right now? Gyu!” 

His eyes widening, Mingyu checks his mirrors and pulls off the side to the side of the road, putting his car in park so he can cup your cheeks in his hands wiping your tears away. “I’m sorry. Baby… sweetie. Aww… no. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Weakly smacking at his chest, you sob, fat tears falling over his thumbs as you take a deep breath and let it out as you say his name. “You’re too sweet. I don’t deserve you. Oh my god.” 

Staring at you, Mingyu presses his lips together as you lean your head back dramatically and he knows you aren’t sad, but once again just overly emotional with the alcohol running through your system. "Sweetheart, you aren’t mad at me?” 

Feeling your stomach twist with anxiety, you turn your head towards Mingyu and sniff hard, seeing him smiling at you. His handsome face almost breaks your heart in that moment. “Oh my god! No!” 

That told Mingyu all he needed as he laughed through his nose on a breath, forcing himself not to let you know he was amused by you. Leaning across the center console, he presses a kiss to your warm, wet cheek, whispering that he loves you before checking his mirrors once again and pulling the car back out onto the road heading towards home. 

“I don’t know why you’d think I’m mad. I could never be mad. You are handsome and perfect and the love of my life.” Whining out the words, you feel your tears finally start to dry up even as you hold Mingyu’s hand in yours tightly, hearing him laugh under his breath. “Don’t laugh at me. ‘M serious. Why are you so pretty? How are you and Jakey so pretty? Oh my god… It’s crazy to be in the house with you both.” 

Lifting his brow at your words, Mingyu slides his thumb along your palm, hearing you sniffling once again. Jake was pretty too, huh? That was interesting. “Is it, baby? Are Jake and I too pretty to live with? Do you want me to have Jakey leave?” 

Smacking at Mingyu’s arm, you whine his name and shake your head. “No, please. I like having him around. ‘M sorry, Gyu. I won’t look anymore. I’ve been bad, right? Shouldn’t look at Jakey.” Lifting your hand, you cover your eyes and Mingyu can’t help but grin at how cute you are and how innocent it is with such an obvious sinful meaning. You were ashamed of something. He knew he should wait until you were sober to talk about this, but you were being so forthcoming now...

“Oh, you’ve been looking?” Pursing his lips, Mingyu turns at one of the last redlights that counted down the minutes until he could get you inside the house and into a warm bed. “Tell me, bad girl... how have you been looking? Elaborate.” 

Lowering your hand, you glance over at Mingyu, feeling the warmth in your stomach spreading as you think about Jake and watching him tie up his hair. You think about his fingers trailing up your back; you picture sitting over his lap. “He’s not a kid anymore.” 

That wasn’t what Mingyu had asked you. That was what Mingyu had told you several times. Narrowing his eyes at the road in front of him, Mingyu slides his hand from yours and slides it along your thigh, feeling you take in a deep breath at the contact. “I’m well aware. I told you to elaborate on how you’ve been looking at Jake.” 

Was Mingyu mad at you? He didn’t seem like it. You were enjoying how his fingertips were kneading into your flesh at the end of your dress as he urged you to talk. “Mm, like I look at you, Gyu.” 

That told Mingyu what he needed to know. “Oh. That's why you don’t want me to tell the pretty Jakey to get out of the house? You want to keep looking at him? Rubbing your thighs together while looking at him?” 

He could read you like a book and you were doing that right now—rubbing your thighs together. Whining Mingyu’s name, you nod and lick your lips, hoping he will give you something—anything that you’d want—but then the car pulls into the driveway and Mingyu’s hand slides from your lap. 

“Time for bed, darling.” 

Phone propped up against his water bottle, Jake lifts a spoon of cereal towards his mouth and sighs around the bite. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen in front of him until he sees you out of the corner of his eyes. It isn’t even just that; he sees your skin as you lean against the fridge door, taking out a bottle of water with a pout on your face. 

You couldn’t be bothered with much of anything once you woke up. You hadn’t even wanted to be awake but you had a boyfriend who, even on a Saturday morning, had a desire to stay in shape. So at 8 am, his alarm clock was going off and your head was busting. Now you found yourself standing in your kitchen with a dry mouth in one of Mingyu’s shirts that reached just under your ass and a pair of panties. It hadn’t even dawned on you that Jake was in the room or that he would be awake. You only thought was the water to wash down the ibuprofen waiting for you in your bathroom. 

“You want a picture, Jake? It’ll last longer.” 

Mingyu’s teasing voice brings you back to reality and you wince at the light shining from the window behind him as you turn around to see him and Mingyu both watching you. "Sorry, my fault. Just wanted—” Holding up the water in your hand, you don’t find it necessary to finish the sentence before you pout at Mingyu and trudge past him back towards the stairs. 

Laughing under his breath, Mingyu runs his fingers through his hair before taking out a bottle of water for himself and meeting Jake’s uncertain eyes. “She’s hungover. She’ll be fine in a couple hours.” Mingyu watches Jake nod slowly as if there is something else he is waiting for, and then it dawns on him. Jake is probably waiting to get bitched at for how he was looking at you. It probably should piss him off; honestly, he had threatened to beat someone’s ass for less, but it was something about who it was and what had been said just a few hours earlier that had Mingyu holding his tongue. “With that said... I’m headed to the gym with Jungkook. Can you check in on her in a bit? Make sure she eats something. I’d owe you.” 

Jake nods and lets his eyes follow his brother all the way to the front door until it closes behind him, leaving Jake alone in the house with you. Glancing towards the stairs, he listens for sounds of you being alive, but at first there is nothing and Jake wonders if perhaps you had gone back to sleep. Maybe that was what you needed. He had never seen you quite like that before. Yes, you had walked around in tiny little shorts, but that look on your face—Jake had never seen that one before. You didn’t give a shit because you felt like shit. 

Hangovers were something that Jake knew all too well. Mingyu wanted you to eat something and maybe, just maybe, this was where he could come in handy. Sliding off his chair, Jake cleans up his dishes and moves to the fridge to take out a few things before moving to the stove to get to work. 

Forcing yourself back out of bed, you whine at the persistent headache that clings to the back of your eyes. You could smell something from downstairs but as bad as you felt, you couldn’t even think about food right now. All you wanted was a shower and to get back in bed. Mingyu had told you to take your meds, drink your water, and eat, but his ass had gone off to pick up heavy things with his best friend so you could do whatever the fuck you wanted to do. Right now that was to stand under hot water until your skin melted off. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but at least that was how you wanted it to feel. 

Dropping clothes on your way across the hall, you leave the door to your bathroom cracked as you turn on your shower and step under the hot water, letting out a relieved sigh when the water starts to massage your sensitive skin. You always felt like you had 92 extra feeling receptors on your body when you were hungover. You didn’t care if Mingyu told you that didn’t make any sense; it made sense to you. Everything felt better or worse depending on what it was, but this shower was perfection. 

Sliding the avocado toast to a plate, Jake bites his lip and opens the fridge one last time, looking at the different juices and water you and Mingyu stocked. He had doubts that Mingyu was the one buying all of them, but then ones labeled “extra protein” made him second guess that you were the one buying them. Grabbing the coconut water, Jake pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours it 3/4ths of the way full before glancing around for how he was going to carry all of this up to you when his eyes land on a tray tucked into one of the bottom cabinets. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought of this sort of thing. 

Eyes focused on the food in front of him, Jake balances the tray on his hands as he walks up the stairs towards your room, stopping at the top when he sees clothes on the floor. Those hadn’t been there this morning. It’s only then that he hears the shower and notices the steam billowing from your cracked bathroom door. 

“Oh fuck—” You hadn’t closed the door? Glancing behind him, Jake sucks on his bottom lip, making sure his palm is firm under the breakfast tray in his hands before he starts towards your bedroom and tells himself he’s not going to look in your bathroom. He won’t disrespect your privacy like that, but then you sigh so pretty and sing under your breath. It’s like a siren’s song pulling Jake towards the door. 

Leaning your head back under the stream of water, you close your eyes and hum along with the song in your head, starting to feel the medicine kick in. You don’t notice Jake standing in the crack of the door, his eyes moving over your body through the steamed-up glass shower door. 

Jake watches for a few seconds longer, his breath quickening as his eyes walk the shape of your breasts down to your hip, where the glass is too steamed up for him to see you clearly. He wants to stay longer and watch you the entire time, but guilt sinks in when you lift your hands to your hair, squeezing water from it and Jake worries you’re going to catch him. Taking a step back, he takes a deep breath to calm himself, not realizing you had opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of him just before he is out of sight. 

Leaning his head back, Jake curses at himself under his breath for how much of a perv he is being when it comes to you. He thinks about your panties tucked safely away in his duffle bag, soiled with his cum. He considers dropping your food off on your bed and locking himself away in his room with them beating out the latest growing problem, but he’s too late. 

“Oh, Jakey! Hi…” 

Hand on your bedroom door, Jake closes his eyes and sighs before opening then and glancing back at you. What the fuck was going on today? “Y/N…” 

Tucking the towel under your arm, you smile at Jake and lean down to pick up your discarded clothes, feeling water dripping down your legs as you do. You could feel Jake’s eyes on you right up to the point that you straightened your body in front of him and his tray of food. “What’s all this?” 

Licking his lips, Jake attempts and fails to keep his eyes on your face when a bead of water rolls from behind your ear and down the side of your neck to your collarbone. “We—I thought—well… Yours. Your breakfast. Gyu told me to make sure you ate.” 

He was adorably flustered and it was going straight to your head. How much had he seen of you? God, why was it turning you on so much wanting to know? Smiling sweetly, you push your bedroom door open with the tips of your fingers. “That’s so sweet, Jakey. You made me breakfast in bed.” 

Jake takes a deep breath, a half-dopey smile on his face, feeling proud of himself as you walk in the room before him. “I—yeah. Um, he said—he said you had a hangover and I know that when I wake up feeling trashed, this kinda helps me.” 

You had glanced at the food on the tray. You could see the fatty, oily avocado toast with an egg and you had smelled the coconut water—electrolytes. You could almost picture him on the phone with Mingyu getting the after-party cure-all recipes because you had gotten similar breakfasts from your boyfriend before. 

“Mm, it looks so yummy.” Dropping your slept-in clothes into the hamper, you lift your brows as Jake stands in the doorframe of your bedroom staring at you. He really was so cute and oblivious. “You can leave it on the bed, sweetie. I gotta get some clothes on, unless you are dying to see me naked.” 

God was he... But you asking him that outright made Jake’s face flush instantly and his feet move. “Oh shit, sorry. Here you go.” Setting the tray safely on your bed, Jake shyly lifts his eyes back up to you as you rest your thumb under your arm, ready to unwrap your towel. Would you take it off? It was wrong of him to hope so. 

Biting your bottom lip, you keep your eyes locked on Jake's, almost daring him to stay where he is until he chicken’s out and whispers he’ll see you later closing your door behind him. The moment the door is closed, you let the towel drop to the floor with a pout. 

You weren’t really paying attention to the movie. You had other things on your mind as you leaned against Mingyu’s chest, feeling his fingers press into your waist. Glancing towards the end of the couch where your feet brushed against Jake’s thigh, you bit back a smirk watching him take another deep breath as you “stretched” and “got comfortable” between the two men. 

“You okay, baby?” Mingyu could tell you were a bit restless. It wasn’t like the couch was massive, but when Jake had offered to sit on the recliner, you had almost thrown a fit. Moving his eyes along your body, Mingyu purses his lips, seeing your toes tucked against Jake’s leg and Jake's hands wring with nerves. “Stretch your legs out. I’m sure Jake won’t care, right, dude? You don’t care if she puts her legs in your lap, do you?” 

Oh good, they were both trying to murder him. Slowly meeting his brother’s eyes, Jake shakes his head no and fakes a nonchalant look. “Nah, course not.” But the moment you giggle, happy to have seemingly gotten your way, able to stretch out over top of them, Jake wants to die. Resting one hand on his chest and the other on the arm of the couch, Jake hopes and prays to every god listening he won’t pop a boner from just the weight of your legs. 

“You don’t have to be so rigid, Jakey. I’ll move... You look uncomfortable. Am I making you uncomfort—” 

“What? No!” You had started pouting not even after a full minute of seeing Jake move his hands around anywhere but on you. Resting one hand on your calf and the other on your ankle, he taps your leg, showing you he’s fine. “I’m so comfortable, see?” 

Meanwhile, Mingyu smirks behind his fingers, rubbing his lips. You were causing Jake to spiral and Mingyu knew that feeling all to well. You had played him like a well-tuned instrument, and now he knew the song and dance seeing it with someone else. 

“Okay, thank you.” You giggle into your words, nuzzling against Mingyu’s chest. Sighing happily, you stretch your legs over Jake’s lap even more, causing them to drag over where he had hoped they wouldn’t. 

Leaning his head back, Jake brings one of his hands up, closing it into a tight fist as he forces himself to stop breathing until you stop wiggling. His other hand holds your calf firmly, but not so tight that you realize something is wrong. It’s Mingyu who catches on first when Jake takes that first shaky breath and he watches how his fist relaxes. 

“You good?” 

Jake wanted to lie and stay where he was, but it was like you were moving on purpose. Any hope that he had of trying to keep himself from popping a boner of his brother’s girlfriend was basically out the window as you flexed your toes and sighed at the movie, not really paying attention to either Jake or Mingyu. 

“Ye–yeah. No… I mean yes, but I have to use the bathroom. Sorry.” Carefully moving your legs, Jake doesn’t meet your eyes even when he hears your whine before he’s quickly out of the room and up the stairs. 

Mingyu’s eyes follow Jake as he keeps his arm around you, not letting you sit up too far. You had done enough damage for one night. “Stop it. Are you that needy?” 

Pouting, you pull your legs close under you, drawing invisible shapes on Mingyu’s stomach over his abs as he teases you. “I don’t know what you’re talking—” The sharp slap to the side of your thigh causes you to yelp and stop lying. “Should I apologize to him?” 

Warm fingers rub over where he had spanked you just seconds before, soothing the burn as Mingyu’s attention returns to the television and the last few moments of the movie you had barely watched. “Not tonight. He’s busy dealing with a problem you caused, I’m sure. Besides… you’re about to be busy too.” 

Your panties were beyond ruined at this point, so much so that Jake hadn’t even pulled them out of his duffle bag. Instead he had his face buried in his pillow as he rutted his hips against his bedding, his palm against the outline of his hard cock, remembering how it felt to have your legs rubbing against him. Did you really not know what you had been doing to him? Were you that naive? 

The sound of your bedroom door shutting pulls Jake back to the present and has him lifting his head for a breath of fresh air. The movie must be over. Fuck… He felt bad now. He had lied about where he was going, but there was no way he could have stayed on that couch with you and Mingyu, letting his cock get harder and harder under your pretty legs. 

Pushing his hand into his shorts, Jake wraps his fingers around his cock and grunts softly to the feeling. He had done this so many times at this point that his wrist was starting to hurt. He jacked off at school, but in the couple of weeks at your house he had done it every single day, sometimes multiple times a day. 

Giggling and then the bed hitting the wall. Fuck. Fuck his life. You and Mingyu were fucking again. Jake was going to need a wrist brace and you two were going to need to patch the fucking wall with how many times the two of you fucked. 

“Gyu, ah! Yes… I’m sorry, daddy.” 

Daddy? That was new, but it had Jake kicking his shorts across the room and him pulling one of his pillows further down in the bed between his legs so he could rest his cock against it. You were whining so loudly tonight, almost like you wanted him to hear you. Jake felt like his skin was on fire as he rolled his hips against the pillow, slowly at first enjoying the drag of his cock against the cotton. 

Groaning loudly against your folds, Mingyu pushes your legs up towards your stomach. You were so fucking wet. He knew you would be. You always were after teasing him or anyone. You had felt Jake getting hard, you knew exactly what you were doing and you had played dumb. He’d treat you just like you were acting, like a dumb little slut. His dumb little slut. 

“Taste so fucking good, baby. This is what you are good for, right?” Leaning back enough to admire your soaked pussy, Mingyu smirks before spitting right on to your folds, watching the glob of spit mix with your slick. “All dumb sluts want is to be fucked? You’d lay here like this all day and let anybody do it, wouldn’t you?” 

Shaking your head no, you sob out Mingyu’s name when he sucks hard at your clit, not letting you have any wiggle room. In the position you were in, there was no where for you to go, no getting away from him. All you could do was hold on to his hair and beg for mercy, not that you wanted him to stop. You loved it. You wanted it. “No! No, not true. Ah! Daddy… no! Just you.” 

God, what was Mingyu doing to you to have you whining and screaming like that? Grunting out your name against his arm, Jake rolls more on to his stomach and thrusts into his pillow before falling onto it. Each one of your yelps and moans has him chasing his high, humping the pillow pathetically almost like a dog. 

“Don’t lie to me." Licking your cum from his lips, Mingyu untangles your legs and pulls one over his shoulder as he lines up his cock with your clenching entrance. With one smooth motion, he buries himself completely in you, relishing in your loud moan of his name. He knew at the end of the day no one else mattered for you. He was your earth and sun, just like you were his moon and stars, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t like to play and want playthings. "But it’s cute when you try.”

You were lying and you’d keep lying if it kept Mingyu’s cock inside of you like it was now. The moment that Jake had gotten to your house, the sex had been even more mind-blowing. At first you had been convinced that it was Mingyu’s possessive nature, but now it was something else. He enjoyed watching you pursue Jake. He enjoyed watching Jake get flustered and panic over you. 

Kissing the shell of your ear as he ruts his hips against yours, Mingyu grins into his words, keeping them low. “Wish that he was in the room, hmm? Want Jakey to watch your pussy get ruined?” God, you were squeezing the life out of him. It was tempting to tell Jake to stop fisting his dick and get his ass in here, but Mingyu instead groaned loudly to the feeling. 

There was no slowing down now. Jake was panting and moaning your name with every bang of your bed against the wall until finally his cum was sticky painting his pillow and stomach. Turning over on his back, Jake tries to catch his breath listening to you scream out Mingyu’s name one more time as you cum, followed by a loud groan from his brother as he seemingly follows you over that edge. 

This was so fucked up. 

“Mm, thank you, Jakey. Mingyu hates helping me do laundry.” 

Jake smiles at you until you bend over in front of him, your tight jean shorts gripping your ass perfectly as you dig in your laundry basket. “It—it’s no biggie. I said I’d help out around the house. Wan—” Taking a deep breath, Jake has to take a step back when you stumble backwards against his hips, making him catch you, hands on your waist. “Woah, you okay?” 

Giggling, you look over your shoulder at Jake, moving from his lips to his eyes, nodding. “Yes, I got a little lightheaded bending over like that. Sorry…” You could move, you should move, but you are enjoying feeling Jake’s body against your back and his fingers pressing into your sides. 

“Oh… You wanna sit down? Are you feeling better?” 

He was so precious. He believed you no matter what you said. It was like he actually bought your innocent routine, but that is what made this so much more fun. Nodding, you slide your hand over Jake’s forearm before taking his hand and letting him lead you out of the laundry room and into the kitchen towards one of the chairs. 

“Up you go, beautiful.” 

Now Jake had your face feeling warm and flushed. He had started doing that, calling you beautiful or pretty, but never around Mingyu. “Mm, you are so sweet, Jakey. You make me feel so pretty. How many girlfriends do you really have on retainer back at school?” 

Laughing, Jake starts to step away when you turn the kitchen island chair towards him, catching him between your thighs. Fuck. Looking down at your legs resting on either side of his hips, Jake takes a steadying breath and tries to keep his cool, resting his hand on the counter beside of you. “You are pretty, the prettiest. Mingyu tells you all the time so... don’t need me to remind you.” Your sweet smile and laugh make Jake feel like he’s floating, your fingers timidly walking along his, doodling absentmindedly as you listen to him talk. “I don’t fuck around much at uni, Y/N. College girls don’t do it for me.” 

You could feel his eyes move over your face and along your neck to the v-cut of your shirt before he met your eyes again. “Oh? You breaking their hearts?” Jake laughs, rolling his eyes as he glances away from you, shaking his head as you keep prodding about his relationships. “If college girls “don’t do it for you," what kind of girl would? Just curious, what my Jakey might bring home one day.”  

Licking his lips, Jake scoffs, keeping his head turned away from you as he considers how to answer you. Your Jakey. Fuck. He wanted to be yours. In truth, in every way that he could be, he already was. He had been in bed with girls at parties before and muttered your name, leaving them crying and asking who Y/N was. If Jake had found himself in a relationship, it never lasted for more than a couple weeks before she was annoying him with how immature she was. “I’m not looking for a girl. Too whiny and—” Jake’s smirk gets wider, another scoff slipping from his lips as he lifts his free hand to brush through his hair you like so much. “Young. I want a woman. I’m not bringing anyone home.” 

Oh, that was interesting. Tilting your head, you nod along with Jake’s words, circling his knuckle with your nail before biting at your bottom lip. “I see. What am I going to do with you, huh?” You watch Jake’s brows furrow, the confusion settling in on his face as he meets your eyes once again. “I’d say it makes me sad that you aren’t getting any at school but..." Biting at your lips once again, you let your eyes move over Jake openly and he feels exposed and raw. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Jake isn’t sure if he should try to escape from between your knees or if he should step forward, but you don’t give him the option to choose. Sliding forward in your chair, you sigh his name and Jake groans quietly, feeling the warmth between your legs. “Y/N… shit. Uh… I—the laundry, I’ll switch it out.” 

Jake tugs his hand from under yours, and you watch with a smirk as he adjusts his shorts, heading back for the laundry room, muttering under his breath. 

“Thanks for the help, sweetie.” 

“She was practically on me. I’m projecting, right?” Whispering loudly into his phone, Jake paces in front of his bed as he tugs at his hair, holding his phone with his other hand. 

Sunghoon was getting to wonder if he should double major in psychology as many times as his best friend was coming to him to interpret his life lately. He should start charging him for sessions with all the great advice and therapy he was providing the motherfucker. “From what you told me... it depends. Probably. What like some hot little pre-milf is going to present her ass to you? Empty handed? I doubt it.” 

Making a face as if he tasted something sour, Jake moves to lean against his dresser, looking at himself in the mirror. Sunghoon was probably as on point as he was disgusting. Calling you a “pre-milf” was insane, but it was also insane to think that you were coming on to him. You were is stepbrother’s girlfriend. Hell, you were practically Mingyu’s wife at this point and Jake had no business looking at you like he was. “Nah—no, you’re right. I’m stupid; there’s no fuckin’ way Y/N—” 

“Yeah, Jakey? You calling for me?” 

Gasping at your voice, Jake’s eyes widen, wondering how much of his conversation with Sunghoon you had heard. Had you just come upstairs, putting things in the linen closet and just happened to hear your name? Or had you been at his door for longer? “I—no, Y/N.” 

“Dude… What is going on?” Confused, Sunghoon sits up at his desk, sliding his computer mouse away from his hand, hearing the panic in Jake’s voice and your name. 

“Oh, you sure? Can—can I… Actually, can you help me in my room? I have a bunch of laundry to fold. Some of it is your towels. I was going to just do it on my bed.” 

Now Sunghoon could hear your voice and it was making sense. “I’ll let you go.” 

“No, man! I can’t—” 

“Grow some fuckin’ balls!” 

Hearing the beeps in his ear as Sunghoon hangs up on him, Jake leans his head back and closes his eyes when you say his name again. “I—sure. I’m—yep. Coming.” Fridays were becoming the bane of Jake’s existence. You working from home consisted less of you "working," taking a phone call here or there, checking your email once or twice, and more of being around to make his head explode. 

Taking a deep breath, Jake knocks softly on your cracked bedroom door before pushing it open to see you sitting in the middle with laundry piled at the end. At least he would have a task to help you with again. He wouldn’t be staring at your tits or feeling your warmth against his half-hard cock—

“Hi! You never came back; I thought you got mad at me. Here, sit. If you can work on towels, I can work on undies and stuff for me and Gyu.” 

You were pouting at Jake again. Sitting down on the side of your bed, Jake sighs under his breath and reaches for the first towel as he watches you fold some of Mingyu’s boxers before you pick up a pair of lace that reminds him of now a few stolen pairs hidden in his room. “Could never be mad at you.” 

“That’s a relief.” Smiling, you purse your lips and shake your head as you look over your laundry before scoffing in disbelief. “I can’t believe I need to buy new panties already. I swear to god the dryer eats them worse than the socks. Meanwhile, I can’t get Mingyu to throw out his underwear.” 

Jake should feel bad seeing you pout over your missing panties, but instead the rush of knowing he had used a pretty red pair just the night before, covering them with his cum makes his heart race. “Throw them away when he’s not home.” 

“That’s really smart, Jakey.” Smirking, you pick up a faded pair of Mingyu’s boxers, tossing them into the floor. “Fun what you can get away with when Daddy’s not home, right?” The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh before you reach over and shake his shoulder playfully, getting him to laugh a bit in disbelief with you. "God, I have to get you to loosen up. You look like you’re going to throw up.” 

Jake did feel like he might throw up. He could hear you screaming Daddy through the walls and now he was sitting on the bed where Mingyu made you cum night after night after night... It was making him feel like he was going to pass out if he thought about it too hard. "No. I won’t—I’m not—I’m loose.” 

That was the biggest lie that Jake had told while he had been here. Shaking your head, you laugh under your breath as you move to your knees to grab a different bit of laundry, sliding it to you on the large bed, feeling Jake’s eyes move over your body. “Yeah, okay, Jakey.” Sitting back, you shake out one of Mingyu’s shirts you use as a nightshirt, meeting Jake’s eyes. “This is what happens when you don’t get laid every once in a while, baby boy. You get all wound up. You wait and you wait for a woman to fuck and suddenly you are made of glass.” 

This wasn’t happening. You were not saying these words to him and you did not just call him what Jake thought you called him. Blinking a few times, Jake visibly swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does while he shakily folds another towel. “N–no… what? I don’t… I’m fine.” 

“But you aren’t, are you?” Putting the shirt on your lap, you pout at Jake sympathetically. “When was the last time someone touched your cock?” Watching his mouth open to answer you, you speak first. “That wasn’t your own hand?” Jake’s mouth closes and you coo at him, feeling your panties getting wetter thinking about how needy he must be. “Jakey… I’m so sorry. Is it my fault? You can tell me.” 

Jake tries to speak again, but you are moving on the bed, your fingers pushing his hair away from his cheek as your knees press into the comforter. Every time he tries to look anywhere else, his eyes find yours or your lips; if he moves them lower, its the cut of your shirt and the peek of your breasts spilling out of your bra. “I—yeah. It’s your fault, Y/N.” 

Faking sympathy, you scoot closer to Jake, feeling a pile of your laundry fall off the bed and into the floor as you do. “Oh no… The girl’s weren’t good enough cause—” 

The shock of feeling your fingers on his thigh sliding upward causes Jake to gasp. His fingers wrap around your wrist, but he doesn’t dare stop you. “They aren’t you. Wait, Y/N—” Biting his bottom lip, Jake groans, feeling even the slightest pressure of your touch over his half-hard cock. “Shit… Mingyu will murder me.” 

Your warm, sweet breath lulls Jake as he tries to calm down, his other hand grasping at the comforter under him as if it will ground him and bring him back to reality out of this dream. “Daddy isn’t home, Jakey.” 

This wasn’t happening. Taking a shaky breath, Jake laughs in disbelief when he feels you sit over his thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. He was asleep and this was the most complex and realistic wet dream of his entire life. He would surely wake up any second now, but no… Instead of waking up, Jake feels your lips brush over his cheek as you rock your hips over his. 

“Do you want me to move? You don’t want to play with me? I thought I was what you want—” A rush of excitement runs through your veins when Jake finally gives in to your teasing. His fingers grip the back of your neck tightly as he hisses against your soft lips before claiming his first kiss from you. The kiss is urgent and messy while Jake’s free hand slides over your ass to squeeze as you feel his cock hardening between your legs. 

Jake knew he was dead. There was no fucking way that this was happening and he would survive the rest of the summer around you and come out alive. Mingyu would find out and he would murder him. Not only would he lose the girl of his dreams but his own stepbrother would bury him in the backyard and tell their parents that he moved back to Australia or something. It all starts to seem like too much, not worth it… But then you moan into Jake’s mouth and his cock literally twitches in his boxers. It was worth it. 

Yawning, Mingyu shakes his head as he shrugs his work bag off his shoulder and pushes the door closed with his elbow. He was exhausted from work and all he wanted to do was stay at home with you but dinner plans had been made and he knew you were looking forward to it. “Baby? I’m home. I talked to Wonwoo before I left the office. He said that he and Anna are gonna meet us at Luxe at 7 pm instead of 8.” 

No answer. Glancing around through the kitchen to the living room, Mingyu furrows his brows and starts to head for the stairs when you smirk at Jake rolling your hips over his one last time. “Mmkay, Gyu. I’m finishing up laundry with Jakey and then I’ll get ready.” 

Jake was freaking the fuck out. Mingyu’s voice sounded close and you were practically laughing at him as you took your time to slide off his lap and back on to the bed to pick up the discarded laundry, talking to his brother as if nothing was going on. You were too good at this; it was scary.

Meeting Jake’s eyes, you lift your brows and gesture to the towels with a nod of your head. “Unless you want to be sitting on the bed with a tent in your pants, Jakey... maybe you should take your towels to your bathroom.” 

That was a good idea, brillant actually. Nodding quickly, Jake swallows the lump in his throat and picks up the folded towels, managing to unfold half the stack as he groans under his breath, slipping out of your bedroom door and down the hall away from your bedroom before Mingyu makes it halfway up the steps. 

Lifting his brow to the door slamming on his left, Mingyu sighs and turns to his right and towards you. “He needs to stop slamming the fucking doors. I get why it used to piss my dad off now.” Mingyu takes in a deep breath as he sits on the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting you fold a shirt in your lap. 

“You are such an old man. Leave him alone. He’s had a hard day.” 

Mingyu could hear the smirk on your voice and it had him narrowing his eyes. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Just has…” 

You weren’t fooling him. Mingyu knew you better than anyone. You thought you could play coy and use word play, but Mingyu saw right through it. “So that means you have been torturing him—” 

“That’s so dramatic.” 

“It’s what you do when you get your claws in a new plaything, but remember this one comes with strings attached.” 

Turning your head to meet Mingyu’s eyes, you pout at him, letting him kiss you softly. You knew the warning was real, but you knew what you were doing. “Stop being so serious, Gyu. You said I could.” 

Sighing against your lips, Mingyu nudges his nose against yours and nods. “Play fair. Just don’t break him.”  

Glancing into the bedroom from across the hall, you look back into the mirror with a half smirk before picking up your perfume and spraying some on to your wrist. Mingyu was finishing up getting dressed, finishing touches just like you, but you weren’t done just yet. 

“We gotta get going. Are my good socks still in the laundry room?” 

Mingyu sighs, his brows furrowed as you lean your head back to tap your wrist against your neck before nodding. “I didn’t get around to bringing them up. They should be in the dryer or in one of the baskets. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

You knew that you and Mingyu might be a few minutes late, but you had heard Jake’s door open and the sound of water from down the hall. Curiosity was getting the better of you. The heat in the pit of your stomach was getting the better of you. 

It had taken close to an hour for Jake’s boner to go down and it still wasn’t what he would call gone. One stray thought about you on his lap and his cock would be right back at attention so Jake’s only saving grace was that you and Mingyu were going out. 

Humming along with the song playing through his phone on the bathroom counter, Jake sighs as he leans into his shower, turning on the tap. He had already heard Mingyu jog down the steps so it seemed a good time as any to jump in the shower and try to relax. Had Jake been avoiding you both since Mingyu had gotten home, absolutely, but how was he going to face his stepbrother with a tent in his pants? He could have gone into his room and rubbed one out, but that routine was starting to get old, especially after feeling the weight of you on his lap. 

“Jakey?” You smile at the soft sound of Jake’s humming and water hitting the shower tiles as you push open the bathroom door carefully. The water had just started running, so you hoped you might catch Jake before he got in. Tell him goodbye. Maybe see him for just a moment to ease that fire in you but you got more than you were bargaining for. “Oh, I—” 

“Shit! Y/N—I…I’m—” Turning his back to you quickly, Jake feels his heart threaten to beat out of his chest. You had already been easing back into his mind, but he hadn’t meant to practically summon you out of thin air. Any chance that he had of keeping himself from getting hard again was off the table. Jake could feel his cock coming back to life no matter how hard he willed himself to behave. “What—why? I thought you and Mingyu were going out.” 

Glancing over your shoulder to the crack in the door, you bite your bottom lip before taking a step further into Jake’s bathroom, unable to convince yourself not to. “Yeah, we’re going. I was just checking on you. ‘M sorry, Jakey. Are you okay?” 

Nope. No, Jake was not okay. How was this okay? How could he possibly be okay standing completely buck ass naked in front of you? Shaking his head, Jake glances over his shoulder at you and finds out quickly that is a mistake when he meets your eyes and sees your teeth pulling at your pretty bottom lip. “Fu—fuck, no. I’m—” 

You could tell Jake wasn’t okay. You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what you were doing and you knew you didn’t have time to do any of it—yet here you were stepping even closer and trailing your fingers along Jake’s back near his hip. “Oh no. Can I help? Since it’s my fault?” You mimic the way Jake furrows his brows, the lust and confusion mixing together. “Please, Jake. I can help and it’ll be quick.” 

“Wh—” He should say no. Jake knows that he should refuse and ask you to leave, but instead he finds himself nodding along with you. Letting out a slow, shaky breath. Jake’s brows knit together tightly when your smile turns into a smirk and you whisper his name, turning him so that his ass can rest against the bathroom counter. “This is so wrong, Y/N.” 

“Shh, Jakey. Don’t talk, just enjoy it.” Brushing your lips over his, you laugh under your breath when Jake gasps against your lips, feeling your hand wrap around his mostly hard cock. He was big—bigger than you had anticipated, and you weren’t complaining. You had been with Mingyu for so long that you were used to a man who was well endowed and knew how to use his cock so it would have almost been disappointing to know that Mingyu’s little brother couldn’t hold his own. “You are so pretty, baby. God, I’ve wanted to touch you since you got here.” 

It was taking everything in Jake to not groan as your hand moved over his cock. You knew what you were doing. It wasn’t like Jake was surprised that you knew how to handle cock; clearly you would, but assuming, hearing, and experiencing were all different. “You—please, Y/N. Can’t say that shit to me, not right now.” 

Nipping at Jake’s lips, you pull back from him just far enough that you can watch your hand move. You marvel at the amount of pre-cum oozing from his tip that you use to make the slide of your hand easier, letting you speed up your strokes. Soft, urgent grunts mixed with your name bring another smirk to your lips as Jake’s fingers claw at the counter for something to ground him. “Why, Jakey? I’m just telling you the truth. You don’t like it? Don’t want to know all the other things I want to do before summer is over?” 

Mingyu sighs, glancing around the living room and up the stairs when he doesn’t see or hear you. There was no telling what you were doing but it didn’t really matter; plans had been made and you knew that. “Baby, hurry your ass up! We are already going to be late.” 

Jake was starting to panic; he had never gotten to his climax this fast in his life. The idea of you wanting to do more with him before the end of the summer had him panting for air, but then Mingyu’s voice and the reminder that he was in the house sealed his fate. Muttering your name on a breathy groan, Jake leans his head back and thrusts his hips towards your hand until his cum drips from your fingers and on to the tile floor at his feet. 

Smirking, you lift your eyes from your fingers and to Jake’s eyes as you carefully unwrap your hand from his softening cock. “I’m coming, Gyu! Stop being so impatient.” Knowing that Jake is watching your every move, you lift your fingers to your lips and lick them clean before sighing. “I’ll miss you, Jakey. We’ll be home in the morning.” 

Jake wants to say something, anything—that he’ll miss you, thank you for the most amazing hand job he’s ever received—but instead he just gives you the same dopey smile that he always does as you wash your hands. “Uh huh… Have fun, Y/N.” 

Waving at Jake, you push his bathroom door closed and bite your lips, feeling the rush of what had happened really hit you. You were soaked, practically dripping through your panties as you made your way down the stairs, but that was the thrill of it. Meeting Mingyu’s eyes and seeing the raised brow of suspicion has you putting on a sweet, faux innocent face as you lean to put on your heels, letting him hold you steady. 

“Took you long enough, darling.” 

“Did it? I wasn’t the one who changed the time. If we were still meeting at 8 instead of—” 

Sighing to cut off your words, Mingyu helps you stand back up straight, his eyes meeting yours before he playfully narrows them and leans to kiss you gently at first. With a nip to your lips, Mingyu hums into the kiss and groans low, almost a growl as his kiss becomes more forceful. The dampness in your panties all that more apparent as your knees buckle and his hand wraps around your waist to keep you upright against him. “You taste like cum, little slut.” 

Instead of feeling shame, you rest your palm against Mingyu’s chest and smile into the kiss, causing him to groan once more. “We’re going to be late, Daddy.�� 

With one sharp slap to your ass, Mingyu rolls his eyes and opens the door for you, ushering you out towards the car. “Oh, I know, baby…” 

Hoon: LOL later? 

Jake: You know it. 

That had been the plan, but then the plan went off the rails. Jake was seconds from throwing away the plan because, while Mingyu had gone “out with the boys,” you were pouting. 

“Jakey I won’t bother you; I’ll just hang out with you while you play your games. That’s okay, right? I watch Gyu play games on his Xbox all the time…” 

So that was how Jake found himself sitting at the small desk in his temporary room, headphones halfway on his head as you lay on your side on his bed scrolling on your phone. Glancing over his shoulder, hearing you take a deep breath, Jake quickly turns his attention back to his laptop when he hears another of his and Sunghoon’s friends, Heeseung, complain in his ear that he is letting the team suffer because he’s distracted. “Sorry…” 

“We’ve barely got a chance to play since you’ve been at your brothers and now you’re dragging everyone else down, dude. Get your head straight.” 

You could see the way Jake’s shoulders were tensed up. He didn’t seem to be enjoying his game. Was it your fault? Did you make it that awkward to play or was it sitting at the desk in that shitty chair? “Jake…” Trying to keep your voice low, you sit up on your elbow and lean forward, another pout forming on your lips when Jake doesn’t seem to hear you. 

“Hee… Chill the fuck out. He’s been workin’, just like I have. You haven’t been up my ass about it.” 

Jake appreciated Sunghoon coming to his defense when it came to this. While it wasn’t just work that had him distracted, it had played a factor. “I’m doing my best, for real, but—” 

“Jakey…” 

Your voice comes through a bit louder, finally getting not only Jake’s attention but those in the party with him. Turning his head towards you with his eyes widened slightly, Jake dips his head down as if it will keep the conversation more private. “Yeah? You—You okay, Y/N?” 

“Who the fuck is—wait? Mingyu’s Y/N?” Hearing Heeseung say your name, the realization in his tone made Jake’s cheeks flush instantly and spread to his ears. Now he could hear the teasing in his friend’s voice. “What’s Y/N need, Jakey?” 

God, Jake wanted to die right there and then, but you looked so sweet and devastatingly hot all at the same time as you lay on his bed so no amount of teasing was going to make him go anywhere. 

“Oh… I’m okay. You’re so sweet.” Sitting up more, you tilt your head, letting your eyes move over Jake’s slumped shoulder and bent spine, knowing how he was leaning over his laptop just a moment before. “Your back looks like it hurts. I was just going to suggest that maybe the bed might be more comfortable? And I could see your game more. I wanted to watch... It’s hard to see all the way over here.” 

“She wants to watch him game, Hoon. That’s so cute.” 

Swallowing hard, Jake clears his throat and lets his eyes move over your body back up to your expectant eyes as Heeseung and Sunghoon both tease him. 

“I’d move to that bed so fucking fast my laptop might not even make it.” 

"Honestly, I get why you are distracted.” 

“Dude, you don’t know the half—” 

“What was that?” Nodding along as if he were listening to his friend’s explain something, Jake makes a sound like he is disappointed before putting a faux pout on his face. “Really? That’s too bad, Hoon. We can play again later.” 

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, man?” 

Watching Jake turn back around to his laptop, you lean back on the pillow as Jake mutters under his breath, hoping you can’t hear him. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll text you guys later.” Without waiting for more response than a sigh or a huff, Jake ends the party call and exits his game with an exaggerated shrug. “Hoon had to get off so...” 

You weren’t stupid; you could tell Jake was lying, but you also weren’t going to call him out on it—not this time. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jakey. What are you gonna do now? Wanna watch a movie or something?” 

Blowing out a slow breath, Jake puts his headphones on his desk and looks towards the open door. “I—sure. We could go downstairs—” 

“No! We could just use your laptop, silly goose.” Turning to sit on your butt, you pat the bed beside you before adjusting the pillows against the headboard, waiting for Jake to join you. “I love watching things in bed. Mingyu and I do it all the time; it’s so cozy and fun.” 

Fun. That’s not the word that Jake would use for something like this. Torturous would be a good word and yet he managed to force a smile and pick up his laptop to move over to the bed with you. Keeping a good distance, Jake sits back against the headboard and puts the laptop between the two of you, opening one of the many streaming apps he has borrowed from Mingyu, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

"Well, that isn’t very cozy, Jakey.” Sighing as you pick up the laptop, you wiggle closer to Jake to put the laptop on his thighs before curling against his side. Only when you are snug against him do you start to run your finger over the trackpad to scroll through the site and search for a movie. 

It was bad enough that Jake had you pressed up against him, but now he had the reminder of your hand on his lap as you slowly scrolled through movies and sighed, seemingly disappointed with every single one. “Anything is fine, Y/N.” 

“But it’s not. They are all so boring. I don’t want to be bored.” Meeting Jake’s eyes, you give him the same pout that you have had on display since Mingyu walked out the door for boy’s night. “Why are you trying to bore me?” 

Gasping in disbelief at your question, Jake furrows his brows and shifts against you. “I—what? I’m not. We can watch whatever you want. I’m not going to bore—” 

“Okay, do you just look things up on Twitter, or are you more of a pay-for-porn kinda guy?” 

Stunned once again by your question, Jake stares at you until you meet his eyes, a smirk growing on your lips until you look back at his laptop. 

“You strike me as a Twitter guy. Mingyu’s a Twitter guy too…” 

Jake’s brain is misfiring; he doesn’t remember how to function or what words are until his eyes move back to his laptop screen to see you scrolling through his Twitter. You weren’t wrong, not even close to it. He was shocked at how easily you read right through him, but the shock wears off when he sees you click on his profile and then likes. “Woah, Y/N!” 

Sliding the laptop from Jake’s lap and onto yours when he panics, you bite down on your bottom lip as you scroll. “Interesting.” Taking note of the types of videos that Jake took the time to press the like button on, you lift your legs, keeping Jake’s fingers from siding underneath the laptop. “I like seeing what you are into. Tits and thighs, typical... but you sure do like watching girls get eaten out, Jakey.” 

Clearing his throat, Jake shifts uncomfortably beside you before shrugging at your commentary. “I—what guy doesn’t.” 

“That’s fair, but isn’t eating pussy yourself better than watching someone else do it? Don’t you get bored fucking your hand? I mean, baby... You keep treating yourself like a priest; you aren’t gonna know how to handle a pussy the next time you see one. You won’t know how to go down on a girl.” You were being cruel and you could see the shift in Jake’s eyes. Finally, he looked annoyed. How long were you going to have to push and poke until he finally took? 

“I don’t just watch, Y/N. I know how to handle pussy just fucking fine; better than fine, I’ll have you know.” Who did you think he was? A virgin who had never made a girl cry on his tongue before? Jake had girls begging him to fuck them but they bored him; he had already explained this to you; maybe you just needed a demonstration. 

“Sure, okay, Jakey!” The last syllable of Jake’s name comes out an octave higher when Jake narrows his eyes at you and finally takes the laptop out of your lap before putting you on your back. “Fuck…” 

“You talk so much, Y/N. You are always teasing me and I keep telling you this is fucked up, but I can’t—” Humming into a groan, Jake grips your thighs as he kneels between them, letting his eyes move up your body. He had dreamt about this exact thing countless nights. This didn’t feel real seeing you on his bed on your back in front of him at his whim. “Tell me no.” 

Taking a deep breath, you smile at Jake’s words as you enjoy the feeling of his hands through your leggings. He was shaking slightly and you could tell he was trying to hold himself back. He wanted you to tell him no—give him any reason to walk away, but why in the fuck would you do that when you were finally getting something you wanted? “Mmm, please, Jakey? I’ll never tell you no.”  

“Fuck, Y/N.” Pushing any thoughts of Mingyu from his head, Jake slides his hands to the waistband of your leggings. You weren’t only giving him permission; you were lifting your hips; you were wiggling your hips side to side as he worked your leggings down your perfect thighs. “You are so goddamn gorgeous. You’re ruining me.” 

That was the first time that Jake made your stomach twist, but not with fear or worry but instead with desire as it mixed with pure lust. That was something that Mingyu would make you feel, but nothing that he could ever say to you. There was nothing you could do that could ruin Mingyu. He had ruined you. You had been a sweet, innocent rose until you met Kim Mingyu and now you were happily tainting something of your own. “Yeah? You want me to, Jake?” 

Pressing his lips against your thigh, Jake groans not only to the feeling of your soft skin against his lips but also to your words. He was already struggling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants, but if you kept that up, he would cum untouched. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. I want that, Angel.” 

You could get used to that, Angel. Jake was so sweet, even as he whispered curses under his breath, his fingers working their way back up from your ankles to your thighs as you spread your legs. “You are such a good boy. You gonna prove something to me?” 

Licking his lips, Jake has to force his eyes from your panties and the damp spot at the center so he can meet your eyes. “Mm, yeah. Can I? That okay?” Jake had a feeling he didn’t need permission; perhaps you didn’t even really want him to ask for it, but he wanted it. Scooting down in the bed, he groans, massaging his fingers into your soft skin and taking in a deep breath of you. He had stolen so many pairs of panties that looked just like the ones you were wearing now, but none of them had looked, smelled, or probably tasted as good as they did while you were wearing them. “Please, Angel. I’m good at it, I swear.” 

There was no doubt in your mind that Jake would be good at eating you out. You were soaked from anticipation, but meeting Jake’s puppy dog eyes from between your thighs as he begged you for permission had you clenching around nothing. “Fuck. Of course, Jakey. Show me how good you are, hm?” 

That was all Jake needed to hear. Your words were like a dinner bell and his meal had been in front of him like a puppy waiting for a treat. Burying his face against your clothed pussy, Jake groans quietly at first, his thumbs pressing hard into your thighs to keep your legs spread. You were heaven, truly his angel, and your pussy was his one gift from God. He wasn’t going to waste it. 

Just when you were about to tell Jake to do something, anything, the warmth of his tongue through the cotton of your panties rendered you silent. Instead, you sigh his name and run your fingers through Jake’s hair, furrowing your brows as he groans louder, able to taste you when your panties mold to your wet folds. 

“So sweet, fuck, angel. Trying to savor this, but—” Jake wasn’t lying; he wanted to enjoy every sensation—the taste of your panties on his tongue, your skin, your cum, your fingers in his hair—but he was already rutting his hips into his bed from just a few swipes of his tongue over your pussy and he hadn’t even seen it yet. He had to see you—really see you. Pulling the center of your panties to the side, Jake rests his cheek against your thigh, almost in awe of how perfect you are. “Unfuckingbelievable. I only get this probably one goddamn time—” 

“Better make it worth it then, huh?” Mingyu had come home probably twenty minutes ago. He had started to call out to you or Jake to see where you were, but the moans and groans told him everything he needed to know. He had been missing you. You had looked so sad when he left so he had cut his boy's night short and now he came home to find you in a much better mood with his stepbrother between your legs looking at you like a three-course meal. At least he had been, until Mingyu had spoken and all the color had drained from Jake’s face when he met his eyes as Mingyu leaned against the doorframe. 

“I—Mingyu—it’s not! I’m not tryin—I didn't mean to—I’m so sorry!” 

Jake really was the cutest boy you had ever seen in your entire life and Mingyu had the worst fucking timing you had ever seen. Leaning your head back in annoyance as Jake sits up quickly, you whine loudly before meeting Mingyu’s eyes as he smirks at you and then shifts his eyes to Jake as he tries to side back on the bed before falling off of it and having to quickly stand up. 

“Didn’t mean to what? Bury your face in my girlfriend’s cunt?" Shrugging, Mingyu looks at you again for clarification and you know he’s going to be even more annoying before this goes the way you want it to. “How does one accidentally do that? Did you trip and fall into her pussy face first? Is that what happened, sweetheart? Did Jakey stumble into your slutty little cunt?” 

Sighing loudly, you sit up in the bed and reach your hand out to Jake, who gives you a shocked, scared face, only shaking his head as if you don’t also see Mingyu in the room. “He’s being an asshole, Jake. Come back, baby…” 

“I might be being an asshole, but I’m enjoying it and I wanted to know the answer because it’s entertaining.” 

Opening his mouth, no words come out as Jake looks from you to Mingyu and back when Mingyu moves to kiss you and you slap him playfully, making him laugh. Was this some sort of joke? Was Jake the joke? “I don’t unde—I don’t get what’s happening right now.” 

Taking an exaggerated breath, Mingyu doesn’t meet Jake’s eyes as he speaks; he instead sits down beside you and slides his hand along your inner thigh. “I know, you’re behind and I told Y/N not to torture you, but she doesn’t listen well. Do you?” When a gasp slips from your lips as Mingyu’s hand comes down hard on your thigh, his lips pull up in a smirk. “I know, baby. You really are just a needy little slut, right? Can’t keep your hands to yourself?” 

If everything leading up to this moment had been a wet dream, now Jake was stuck in a fever dream. This was worse. He could run away. He could run right out the door, down the steps, and out the door and forget any of this happened, but Jake couldn’t take his eyes off Mingyu’s hand as he traced the same path he had taken earlier, leading up to where Jake wanted to be most. 

“You are soaked, darling. I know that isn’t all for me. Was Jake doing a good job?” Nodding along with you, Mingyu smirks barely pushing his fingers between your wet folds, feeling two sets of eyes on him. “And I was mean and interrupted him? Such a bad guy, huh?” 

“Yeah, that was mean. Let me have him.” You pout at Mingyu, lifting your hips towards his finger until he shakes his head, causing you to start to whine before his hand comes down hard on your thigh again, leaving it hot. “Please! ‘M sorry, daddy! Please? Please, can I play with him? He’s like a puppy.”

That made Jake’s mouth feel dry—not just your words and hearing you call him a puppy, but watching Mingyu’s hand slap your thigh over and over again. He’d never have the strength to do that to you, but seeing it be done to you... Pre-cum was dripping down his thighs and he was barely holding back his whines. 

“You want a pet that bad, sweetheart?” Looking towards Jake, Mingyu smirks, seeing him practically drooling over you. He understood why. You were perfection, especially when you were like this, all laid out and wanting. Meeting your eyes once again, Mingyu nods along with you and mocks your whines before cooing in faux sympathy and patting his hand over your wet pussy after putting your panties back in place. “Fine, but we aren’t staying in this tiny ass room and this bed. We are moving the party.”

Whining once again, you lean your head back, hearing Mingyu laugh at your reaction. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just stay where you were. You and Jake had been doing just fine, but then he had rudely interrupted. 

“You see the shit I have to deal with on a daily fucking basis?” Rolling his eyes, Mingyu moves to one knee, sliding one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, pulling you into his arms. “And this is the woman you fantasize about? A bratty little princess…” 

Nodding quickly, Jake swallows hard and moves towards you and Mingyu. “I–-you want me to carry her? I don’t mind.” He knows he sounds pathetic, too eager but the pleased look on your face makes it worth it, even as Mingyu scoffs at your reaction. 

“You have him whipped, sweetheart.” Shaking his head, Mingyu laughs under his breath as Jake waits for him to make up his mind. “Tell you what, Jake, I’ll carry her this time. Wouldn’t want to risk you dropping her. Hit the gym with me a few times and then we can talk about it.” Not waiting for Jake’s reaction, Mingyu narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lean your head back on his arm, enjoying the attention. “He’d fucking crawl to the bed if you asked him to. Are you pleased with yourself?” 

It only takes a few long strides from Mingyu for you to bed in your bedroom and to be laid on your own bed. Smirking up at him, you bite gently on your bottom lip and nod in response to his question. “Incredibly pleased. I’d love to watch him crawl. You’d never do it for me.” 

Scoffing once again at your words, Mingyu’s brows furrow. "No, I fucking wouldn’t but I’d make you crawl until your knees are sore.” You had gotten so cocky he might just make you do it and not make such an empty threat, but the sound of the wooden floor creaking reminds him that the two of you aren’t alone. “Come here, Jake.” 

This was fucking torture. You had been torturing Jake before, but Mingyu was doing something else. Jake had been ready to eat you out and then he had been ready to carry you, but then his fucking brother had taken both of those things away from him only to keep them dangling like a promise in front of his face. Biting at his cheek, Jake moves closer to the bed when Mingyu speaks to him, even as his heart beats hard in his chest, causing his head to feel heavy with each loud thump. “Y–yeah?”

Meeting Jake’s eyes, Mingyu rests his hand next to your waist, still leaning over you. “If we are doing this, you do as you are told, got it? Don’t make me fucking regret it. I don’t want to hear about you fucking my girlfriend from your horny little friends.” Jake nods, but that isn’t enough for Mingyu. You and Jake watch as he takes a deep breath and stands up straight in front of his stepbrother, tilting his head. “What did I say?” 

Had Mingyu always been that fucking tall and wide? Opening his mouth once and closing it, Jake’s eyes widen before he nods again and lifts his hands. “You said to do as I’m told and not to talk to my friends about it!” Shaking his head quickly, Jake starts to panic, his eyes moving from Mingyu to you and back. “I swear, dude.” 

Smacking Jake’s shoulder hard, Mingyu feels Jake move a good inch and a half from the force as he smirks at him and his understanding. “Good, I believe you. I know you like Y/N, but I love her. There’s a difference. That’s all I’m gonna say.” Clapping his hands together, a smile on his face, Mingyu turns to look at you, seeing a fond smile on your face even though you try to look annoyed. “Let’s fuck, huh? Jake, shirt off. Give her something to look at while you eat.” 

You wanted to keep that same look on your face but the moment that Mingyu tells Jake to take off his shirt and moves to slide the chair from the corner of the room closer to the bed, you fail. Instead of looking half annoyed, you look hungry as Jake nods, his shirt quickly being pulled over his head before he shakes his hair back out, letting it settle around his face. “God… He’s so fucking cute.” 

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu sinks into the chair beside the bed and lets out a deep breath as you ogle Jake. You were rubbing your thighs together like a cat in heat; it was pathetic and had Mingyu’s cock rock hard in his jeans. “Yeah? You like him that much? Take your panties off, sweetheart. Hand ‘em here.” Leaning forward to take the lace from your fingers, Mingyu smirks when he meets your eyes. “Good girl, now you lay back and let Jakey eat. I think he deserves a good meal after all the shit you’ve been putting him through, don’t you?” 

Falling back against the pillows, you pout at Mingyu even though you know he’s right. You had been putting Jake through it for the past few weeks and over the last few days you had only amplified your teasing. “Yes, daddy.” Spreading your legs, you attempt and fail to hide your smirk when you hear Jake curse under his breath at seeing you laid out in front of him. 

Jake wished you were completely naked, but this was pretty damn good. Your shirt was pushed up near your tits and he could see how wet you really were without your panties in the way. You were literally dripping onto the comforter and Jake’s mouth was watering so much that he was having to swallow his saliva in order to keep himself from drooling. 

“You gonna fucking stare all night or are you gonna get in there? Do you know how to—” 

“He said he knew how. Didn’t you, baby?” Lifting your hand, you gesture Jake closer to you, happy to see him follow your wishes as he crawls on to the bed, moving to his knees between your legs. “He said he was good at it. Right? Gonna show me and be a good pet?” 

Nodding quickly, Jake whispers your name, his brows furrowed. He loved this. This was better than anything else he had ever experienced in anyone’s bed. Jake could have a girl choking on his cock and he wouldn’t feel as high as he did right now with how you were looking at him and talking to him. “Fuck—mhm. So good for you, angel.” Scooting down in the bed, Jake wraps his arms around your legs, one pulling you closer at your hip and the other resting on your stomach as his mouth hovers over your pussy. “You smell so fucking good.” 

You knew that Mingyu was watching you and Jake closely. It made everything better, from running your fingers through Jake’s hair to feeling his nose nudge against your clit for the first time—Mingyu’s eyes burning your skin heightened the experience. "Ah, do I? You like it that much, Jakey?” 

Groaning so deep in his chest that his body shakes, Jake nods to answer your question before he gives in and finally uses his tongue to spread your folds apart. He knew it would be life changing but he hadn’t expected his entire body to react. From his head to his toes, Jake felt like he was standing beside a live wire and the worst part was his cock. He knew as he buried his face against your soft lips and let his tongue explore that he wasn’t stopping the inevitable. Pushing his hips hard against the mattress, Jake grunts and hisses against your pussy, listening to how you whimper his name, causing him to cum untouched. 

Mingyu knew that desperate feeling—he could see the way Jake was humping his bed and practically eating you alive. It had been a long time since Mingyu had experienced it himself, but if anyone was going to make someone cum in their fucking pants, it’d be you. “You better make her fucking cum since you didn’t wait or ask.” 

Tightening his grip around your hips, Jake leans back to take a breath. His eyes meet Mingyu’s for a split second as he acknowledges what he had said before his mouth is right back on you. Jake wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and he was dying to make you cum. You tasted too fucking good for him to stop anyway. If Jake could die between your legs, that’d be the way to fucking go. He’d go out of this world the happiest man that ever lived. 

“So good, Jake! Oh, my god…” Throwing your head back, you whine as you tighten your fingers in Jake’s hair, feeling him trying even harder than he had been after Mingyu opened his mouth. You weren’t in a rush. You were enjoying having such a handsome boy between your legs and having his mouth on you. You didn’t know why Mingyu was so insistent that you had to cum right in that moment, but Jake was on a mission now and your body was giving in. “Fuck! There! Right there, baby! Don’t stop!” 

If there was one thing that Jake had learned from other girls, it was if they told him where to go and not to stop—he kept going and he stayed where he was. Sucking hard on your clit, Jake only releases long enough to take a breath, humming in the process and sending a vibration through you that sends you barreling over the edge. Thighs close around his head and Jake slides his palms along your soft legs, enjoying the feeling, not caring that his lungs are screaming for air because the moment that he feels lightheaded, your ass falls back to the bed. 

Taking a deep breath of your own as you come down from your orgasm, you reach back between your legs to guide Jake to rest his head on your stomach. Eyes closed, you lick your lips and run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of Jake’s warm breath and wet lips against your skin. “You are so good.” 

“And as cute as watching you two cuddle is—” Mingyu smirks against his fingers as he moves his eyes over you and Jake. He wasn’t lying; he had enjoyed it all, from watching you cum on Jake’s face to wondering if Jake was going to make it from between your thighs alive, but enough was enough. “Get the rest of her clothes off, and yours.” Standing up from his chair, Mingyu stretches his neck from side to side before he tugs his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “Then look in the bedside table and grab a condom.” 

Feeling Jake slide from your hands, you pout into a whine but it’s quickly replaced by a smile when he grabs your hand, helping you sit up. 

“I’m not leaving you.” Biting his lip, Jake lets his eyes linger on your lips for a few seconds before sliding his hands along your sides, pushing your shirt up your torso. “I really want to kiss you again.” 

Lifting your arms, you let Jake slip the shirt over your head, a groan escaping his lips once he realized that was the only layer left keeping him from the rest of you. “Then why aren’t you kissing me?” 

“Because he’s supposed to be getting naked and getting rid of his cum-stained pants, Y/N. Stop fucking distracting him and get your ass over here.” Shaking his head as he kicks his pants and boxers from his foot, Mingyu sighs watching you pout at him. “Whose damn bedroom is this?” 

Crawling across the bed towards Mingyu, you glance back at Jake, feeling his eyes move along your body as his thumbs press into the top of his sweatpants. It isn’t until you are close enough to Mingyu that his hand is on your jaw, turning your face back towards him, that your attention is fully back on him. “Ah… Yours. ‘M sorry.” You weren’t scared of Mingyu. He was rough with you, but only because he knew that you liked it. You had begged for it when the two of you had first gotten together and he had teased you with the idea. Now you were spoiled with it. 

He wasn’t sure if he believed you were sorry, but Mingyu smirked anyway when you apologized. Sliding his thumb along the column of your neck, he presses ever so slightly, feeling you swallow under his grip as he takes a step towards the bed, knowing you won’t move until he tells you to. “That’s right, it is mine, and who do you belong to?” 

Swallowing hard once again as Mingyu’s hand wraps around your neck loosely like a necklace, you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You were already wet from cumming once, but you were leaking down your thighs at the feeling of his hand on your throat. "You, I belong to you.” 

Jake was swallowing hard too watching Mingyu with you like this. It was like getting whiplash. With you, Jake wanted to do everything little thing you said, but then Mingyu spoke and you were like putty, ready to be molded. Jake just watched and admired you both in awe. He’d never have the guts to talk to you like that. He wouldn’t want to. You were were precious to him and he couldn’t get off on it the way he could hearing Mingyu do it… 

“Whose bedroom is this, Jake?” 

Fuck, it was as if thinking about him had reminded Mingyu that Jake was in the room. Jake’s eyes widen at the question and he moves to the bedside table, picking up a condom as he answers. “Yours, Gyu.” Barely meeting Mingyu’s eyes, he moves back towards the bed and turns the foil square over in his fingers out of nerves. 

“Damn straight it is, and she’s mine. I’m being generous, Jake. What do you say to me?” Looking up from your eyes to meet Jake’s, Mingyu lifts his brows and waits until Jake straightens his back and nods. 

“Th—thank you.” 

Sliding his fingers back up your neck to your jaw, Mingyu tilts his head carefully, leaning your head back so he can look into your eyes. “How do you want to do this? One at a time?” He should have known you wouldn’t like that suggestion when you pout up at him and shake your head. “No? Such a slut… Fine. You want someone in this hole?” Letting go of your neck, Mingyu leans over your body to slide his hand between your asscheeks, feeling your body go slack under him. 

“Nuh, uh... not tonight. Can’t I just—both of you?” You knew what you wanted, and you knew it was a lot to ask and to handle, but the look on Mingyu’s face and the sound of Jake’s breath made it worth it. 

“Shit… Say it if that’s what you want. Gotta be able to ask for something properly like a big girl if you want something like that, sweetheart.” It wasn’t like Mingyu didn’t know exactly what you wanted and from the look on Jake’s face, he did too. In that moment, Mingyu was wondering if Jake had ever done something like that. It wasn’t like Mingyu had done it often, but for you, he had done a lot of things he never thought he would do. 

Whining Mingyu’s name, you fall on your stomach and pout as you roll to your side, looking up at him and feeling his fingers brush over your cheek. You were being a brat and not exactly acting like a “big girl,” but this was half the fun. Watching Mingyu’s brows raise and seeing the smirk on his lips has you blowing out a breath. “Fine. I want you both at the same time.” 

That wasn’t exactly what Mingyu had meant, but it was a start. His smirk growing a bit bigger, he nods along with your words before glancing up at Jake. “She wants us both at the same time. Know what that means?” When Jake doesn’t answer right away, instead he takes a breath and nods as if he might explode. Mingyu laughs, grabbing your arms and turning you on your back, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Means she wants us to stuff her pussy full of both of our cocks, Jakey, ‘cause she’s a greedy little whore tonight.” 

Jake’s eyes fall from Mingyu to you as his cock twitches almost violently at the thought. That was something else Jake wasn’t ready to do—call you degrading names; to him, you were this perfect angel. It didn’t matter how many cocks you wanted in you at the same time; you’d still be his angel, and he’d make sure you were filled to the brim. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu smirks down at you as you try to feign innocence after being called a whore. You weren't fooling him in the slightest, but he could play along for the fun of it. “Do you both need to be walked through it?” Letting out a breath, Mingyu tilts his head, watching a smile pull at your pretty lips. “My poor girl, already fucked dumb by some tongue? Can you take one cock in this cunt?” Tsking as he palms your wet pussy, he carefully pushes two fingers into you, feeling you instantly clench down on him. “How can you take two?” 

“I—oh fuck!” Rolling your hips over Mingyu’s fingers, you dig your fingers into his bicep, throwing your head back to the feeling of him finding your spot almost immediately. “Please? I can. You know I can.” 

Mingyu tilts his head to the other side, listening to the wet sounds of his fingers fucking into you almost brutally. “I know a lot of things, baby.” Glancing over his shoulder to Jake, who still looks dumbstruck, Mingyu rolls his eyes and gestures towards the bed. “Sit beside her on the bed. Once I make sure she can handle us, you can be under her. Don’t say I’ve never given you anything.” 

Watching a third finger being worked into your tight pussy, Jake groans under his breath as he quickly nods and moves to your side, swallowing hard. You were moaning so sweetly as you dripped down Mingyu’s hand. Jake was so hungry again. All he wanted to do was beg Mingyu to crawl back between your thighs and lick you clean; maybe Mingyu would even let him have what was left over on his hand, but fuck that was insane—but it seemed like such a waste to see it left on his hand. “Feel good, beautiful? You full?” 

Jake seemed shy as he spoke to you, but that made it even sexier. You could hear the slight lisp drawing out the end of his sentence that reminded you of Mingyu, and that only made you push down harder on Mingyu’s fingers. Nodding quickly, you turn your head towards Jake and whine his name as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, urging him towards you, feeling his fingers slide over your stomach towards your breast, where he timidly circles one of your nipples, enjoying the feeling of the pert bud. 

"Ah—Jakey, if you don’t kiss me right now..." Moaning, your head falls back, drawing both sets of eyes to your face. You smile and lick your lips as another wave of pleasure rips through your body, finding yourself on the edge of your orgasm. "Jake, I won’t let you fuck me if you don’t kiss me.” 

Fingers cup the side of your head, pulling you back upright as your lips are brought to Jake’s urgently, causing Mingyu to scoff in amusement. You were good at getting what you wanted when you wanted it. Jake wasn’t immune to that at all; it seemed as his tongue glided over yours and his cock leaked obscenely on his thigh to just the taste of your mouth. 

“Two sluts.” Pushing down on your thigh, Mingyu circles your clit with his thumb, making you whine loudly into Jake’s mouth. He knew you were cumming. He had felt you cum around his fingers, tongue, and cock so many times that he could almost tell when you were closer easier than he could sense his own climax. “Give it to me, Y/N—” Smirking, Mingyu quickens the thrusts of his fingers, mimicking your words back to you. “Or I won’t fuck you.” 

While you knew Mingyu was lying, there was almost no way to stop your orgasm as it hit you in waves, his fingers not slowing down until you closed your thighs around his hand. “Ah—enough, Gyu.” The feeling of Mingyu’s thumb on your clit had become almost painful as your thighs tensed and jerked at the slightest touch. 

Bringing his fingers to his lips, feeling Jake’s eyes following his every move, Mingyu smirks around his fingers as he sucks them clean. “Can’t handle it, sweetheart? You still want our cocks?” He knew the answer before you even started whining, but even if you had said no, Mingyu wouldn’t have been disappointed, and he had a feeling that Jake would have gotten over it eventually too. You were already tired, and what you were asking for was going to ruin you, but you were greedy. “Alright, baby, come here.” 

You let Mingyu lift you in his arms, taking the time to rest and have your body moved into place. You only realize that Jake is lying where you were when Mingyu ushers you onto his lap. Smiling at him, you press your lips to Jakes and slide your hips forward, furrowing your brows to the feeling of the latex against your skin before you break the kiss to pout. “Don’t need it.”

Jake groans under his breath as you trail a finger along his shaft over the condom. At first he’s confused by your words until you look back at Mingyu and continue to pout at your boyfriend, who climbs back onto the bed behind you to look between your legs. 

“It’s just a condom, Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Don’t complain; be grateful. He is…” 

That wasn’t a lie. Jake was incredibly grateful. Did he want to be inside you raw? God yes, but he was just stunned; he was still sitting under you right now, knowing he was getting to fuck you. 

Meeting Jake’s eyes, you pout at him before sighing and leaning to kiss him again. You feel your hips being lifted by Mingyu as he runs his fingers through your wet folds. “Mmm, stop teasing me, Gyu. Wanna be full. Put it in, Jakey…” Running your nails along Jake’s neck, you smile at him, staying close to his face as Mingyu smirks behind you, squeezing at your hips and watching you leak over Jake’s thighs. “You wanna fuck me, puppy? Put your cock in me.” 

“Fuc—” Hissing between his teeth, Jake squeezes the base of his cock as he looks over your shoulder, meeting Mingyu’s eyes as his stepbrother nods, giving him the okay. “Yeah, yeah, I wanna fuck you, angel.” While you were good at pushing Mingyu’s buttons, Jake was hearing his words over and over in his head and being reminded to be grateful, and as you sank down on his cock, he had never been more grateful in his life. “Oh, my fuckin’ god.” 

Resting your forehead against Jake’s, you whine as he bottoms out in you. It felt good; you could feel full if you wanted to. This would satisfy you, but you knew there was more waiting for you. You knew it was a bit insane to be sitting on a rather large cock as you had an even bigger one waiting for you. “Please—ah…” 

Mingyu wasn’t a believer in letting someone adjust. Adjusting meant you could get used to what you had, and in this situation that meant your body might just want Jake’s cock and you had asked for two. Fingers tightly holding your hip, Mingyu bites at his bottom lip as he nudges the head of his cock at your tight hole, pushing in next to Jake’s cock. At first the resistance makes him wonder if he had stretched you enough, but the moment his head slips in and you sob out his name, the rest seems like a dream. “Holy shit, baby... You are so goddamn tight like this.”

Both men knew that it wasn’t just your walls clenching around them that made it tight, but their cocks pressed together, but that was something Jake was trying very hard not to think about as Mingyu groaned low and pulled your hips down over them. It felt good—great even—but there was something that kept it from being perfect—though Jake wasn’t going to complain. Instead of Jake being the one to complain about it, first it was you; even though Mingyu’s brows furrow, feeling the latex against his cock, making the slide almost uncomfortable. 

“Gyu… It’s not—” Shaking your head, you push down over both of them, trying to push past the feeling of both of them not feeling the same inside of you. No matter how wet you were, something didn’t feel right. “The fucking condom. I told you. Why don’t you ever listen—” 

Pressing his lips against your shoulder, Mingyu rolls his eyes and thrusts up hard into you from behind, hearing you cry out in pleasure just as Jake whines to the feeling. He could make it feel good; it could work, but your complaining and the fucking feeling of that condom against him... “Fine! You fucking brat.” 

Jake hadn’t expected Mingyu to suddenly pull out of you, so when he did—bringing him with him—it not only left him wide-eyed but gasping for a deep breath. “What the—” 

“She gets everything she wants." Grumbling under his breath, Mingyu shakes his head, and with one tight stroke from base to tip, he rolls the condom from Jake’s cock and tosses it on to the floor. “There, everyone fuckin’ happy?” When Jake just stares at him in shock, Mingyu rolls his eyes and looks back down, muttering once again. “Making me regret this. Put it back in, dude.” Even though he tells Jake to do it himself, he doesn’t wait; instead he pushes forward, letting you rest on Jake’s chest as he lines Jake back up with your entrance and then himself before slowly pulling you back down over them both like a toy. “That better, princess? Everyone fuckin’ happy?” 

You were happier, but you could also tell that despite the display and dramatics that Mingyu was too. From the way he was fucking you to the groans coming from his chest, everything about this was better. “Uh huh, god, it’s so much better. Harder, daddy.” 

Meanwhile, under you, Jake was trying not to lose his mind completely. From what had just happened to feeling you on his cock like you were now, he couldn’t help but thrust up into you, matching Mingyu’s movements. He was chasing his high now as he teetered on the edge of a cliff with your name slipping from his lips like a prayer. “Plea—please, I gotta... I’m gonna cum. Can I cum?” 

You enjoyed hearing Jake begging to cum. Mingyu had never asked you before; it was always the other way around, so this was different and empowering. Gasping between moans, you nod and scratch lightly at Jake’s chest before glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, who smirks at you holding your hips tightly. "Oh, yes, baby. You can cum. Nothing stopping you now; I want you to fill me up!” Feeling Mingyu’s hand come down hard on your ass, a possessive growl slipping from between his teeth, you reach a hand back to find his as you meet Jake’s eyes. “Can you do that for me, hm?”

Mingyu hated the idea of someone else cumming inside of you, but as he linked his fingers with yours and pulled your arm behind your back, he couldn’t help but lift his brow to how this was making him feel this time. Maybe it was okay this time. He could handle it once with Jake. Maybe it was because he was inside of you too, and he could fuck the cum out of you and replace it with his own. Yeah, that had to be it. “Do it, Jake. Don’t make her wait. Don’t make me wait.” 

He didn’t want to make either of you wait, or himself at this point. The moment that Jake has permission, he lets go. Soft groans slip from his lips as he spills cum into you with each deep thrust. “So good, fuck—wait." Jake wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen once he had finished; he didn’t think he would outlast you or Mingyu, but what came next hadn’t occurred to him. All he did know was that now his cock was starting to soften inside of you and Mingyu wasn’t slowing down. With each thrust into you, Mingyu was overstimulating Jake and had him digging his heels into the mattress as he held on to your waist tightly, begging for mercy. 

“You wanted this, Jakey. Now we get to finish.” Groaning, Mingyu throws his head back and chuckles as you clench down on both of them again, your eyes closed. “You feel that? She’s gonna cum. You didn’t wanna last long enough to feel her cum around your cock? Pathetic, pup.” 

That was so far from the truth. That was all Jake wanted to feel, but now he was afraid his cock was going to fall off before he ever felt it, but as soon as the thought comes to him, you let out the hottest sound that he’s ever heard. Cum drips onto Jake’s thighs and down onto the comforter as you go limp between him and Mingyu, relying on mostly Mingyu to keep you upright as he grins against the shell of your ear. 

“Such a good fucking girl. I’m right there; keep being a good girl. Shit—ahh, baby.” Gasping into a groan, Mingyu tightens his arm around your waist as he follows you and Jake over that edge and finally makes you feel as full as you’ve wanted to be all night. 

Waking up to the feeling of fingers brushing over your cheek, you whine and lean into the touch, causing Jake to smile as he rests on his side beside of you in the bed. 

“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous. You feel okay?” Jake had been watching you sleep for a while now. After you had passed out, Mingyu had assured him that was okay and you were okay. He had helped Mingyu get you cleaned up and back into bed, and now he was tasked with keeping a close eye on you while Mingyu cooked food. 

“Mm…” Nodding, you lazily wiggle closer to Jake, burying your head against his bare chest, feeling him take a deep breath to the feeling. “”M tired. Where’s Gyu?” You weren’t lying; you were exhausted, even after your impromptu nap. You could tell that it was late, but the growl from your stomach causes you to pout. You glance up at Jake, finding him staring at you still. “Why are you looking at me like that, Jakey?” 

The entire evening had felt surreal, but this—this felt like a dream until Jake lifted his hand and ran it over your head, feeling you tuck against him once again. This was bittersweet and was sort of making Jake’s chest hurt, and yet there was nowhere else he wanted to be. “Um, Mingyu’s making some food. We got you cleaned up, did the same for ourselves, and he told me to watch over you.” Clearing his throat, Jake furrows his brows and lets out a mostly believable chuckle. “I just—I don’t know, this is different. I thought I’d get tossed out and we’d forget this happened, or he’d hate me.” 

Shifting in Jake’s arms, you sigh, having to use more strength than you’d like and that you really have to sit up so you can meet his eyes. When Jake frowns at you and moves to sit up so you can have more support, you offer him a smile before finally speaking. “First of all, weird as it is in this context, you are family, and we aren’t going to toss you out. Secondly, I enjoy you a lot. Mingyu clearly enjoyed that. We don’t do that on a whim, Jake. Yes, I was a tease, and I was playing with you, but I don’t do that with just anyone and often.” 

Swallowing hard, Jake nods and looks down at your hand before tracing your fingers with his to both distract and focus himself as he thinks before speaking. “Okay, so this wasn’t just an experimental thing? Like a one off?” 

You turn slightly against Jake, taking your hand from him to push his hair from over his eye, enjoying the way his hair has a slight curl. “Not unless you want it to be. I mean, clearly, you are going to be going back to school so you have your own life, but you are always welcome with us.” 

“Because she always gets what she wants.” Sighing loudly, Mingyu moves into the room towards the bed with the same tray that Jake had found a couple of weeks ago. Placing it on the bed, he gestures towards the food he had made—some chicken and rice with vegetables on the side—before he sits on the other side of you, offering Jake a fork. “No sense in denying her at this point. Happy wife, happy life, or whatever that saying is.” 

Taking the fork from Mingyu, Jake gives you both a confused look before laughing and shaking his head. He starts cutting into a piece of chicken as Mingyu offers you some rice. “This is fucked up, you know?” 

While you shrug, not caring about what others think, Mingyu nods, swallowing a bite of food before he wipes his mouth clean and sighs into his words. “Yes, it is. Which is why there are rules. Same that apply from before we did this. Don’t tell your stupid, horny friends or anyone else. I can take away the fun just as easy as I gave permission, got it?” 

Swallowing a bite of chicken harder than was probably necessary, Jake feels the burn in his throat as he meets Mingyu’s eyes and nods. He didn’t want to fuck this up. He wasn’t even sure what this was, but he had gotten what he wanted when you lean to kiss the corner of his lips. Where this would lead, he didn’t know, but he had a good idea it was back in your bed sooner rather than later. 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[toomanyfanficsbruh]

Hello!! Happy New Year!!

My God, I am so sorry it took so long. And it's not even fully finished 😭😭

Here you go, something better than nothing xx

Queen Of England

It was often on calm days, that something happened. And as normal, something happened.

Merlin and Gwen were walking back from their weekly Taco Tuesday meet ups - it kept them full and up to date with the other's lives.

At this time of the year, both of them were busy with work. Gwen with her new designs for Vogue and Merlin with his piling stack of assignments to mark. The both of them nearly almost never had time to talk to eachotner. Insert, Taco Tuesdays. The best idea since sliced bread and pull-out sofas.

On the way back to Gwen's apartment, she gasped loudly at her phone, "No. Way. Oh My God. Holy Fishsticks."

Merlin leaned over her shoulder to look at her phone. Damn the privacy protection screen that she used. Smart, but quite annoying when trying to snoop. "You're fake swearing again. This must be bad, what happened?"

"I just got swiped on by The Arthur Pendragon."

"Who?"

"Merlin! You know! The actor??" Gwen turned the phone around to Merlin, who was face to face with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Surely that was fake.

"Gwen! No I don't! Who?"

"Gah. Your sarcasm isn't really helping right now."

"And neither are your descriptions. Wait, let me do some research." It took Merlin all of 2 minutes to find the guy and all of 8 minutes for it to register that it was That Guy.

"You've gotta be kidding me Gwen, that's gotta be a fucking catfish."

"Ah! Swear Jar!"

"No seriously. You are drop down gorgeous. I love you to bits. But why on earth would this stuck up prick be on Tinder?! Doesn't he have enough actresses to be putting his hands all over?"

They stopped at Gwen's door, "Hmm. You make a good point. The real Arthur Pendragon would never text me."

"Excuse me? No, you are gorgeous, didn't I just say this?" Merlin tapped his chin in a moment if thought, before look at Gwen again. "But you know what would be fun?"

"I know that twinkle of mischief anywhere. And I know it's not going to end well. What is it?"

"How about…we mess with him a little…"

"Oh no."

So, in a moment of frenzy and bad argument, Merlin walked back to his apartment with Gwen's Tinder account password and a plan up his sleeve. Gwen called it Reverse Catfishing. Merlin said it was giving the guy a taste of his own medicine. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to end well.

Merlin was in the middle of reading a student's essay when he recieved a message from the so-called actor.

Arthur: If you were the letters of the alphabet, you would be A Q T.

This guy used proper sentences and grammar in his pick up lines. Merlin would have been fooled if it wasn't for the horrendous line that he'd chosen.

Gwen: is that from a book of 1001 pick up lines because that was horrible

Arthur: If you were a fruit, you'd be a Cute-cumber.

Gwen: no, I'd be a Fine-Apple.

The typing bubbles went away after a moment and Merlin went back to his marking, assuming he had scared the catfish away. Surely, nobody with common sense would start off with such a bad pick up line. There were many many others that could've been used.

Arthur: I can't say I'd disagree with that.

Gwen: left you speechless have i?

Arthur: You left me speechless when I first saw you, much less now. Seems that I can't function at all with you around.

Gwen: then leave?

Merlin felt the rejection in that reply. He also felt a little bad.

Gwen: I mean. don't leave. but like, get a speech therapist?

Merlin hit his head, not only did he reject the guy, he also had the shittiest response. Poor dude.

Arthur: Maybe I wouldn't be stuttering when I meet you then. Do you know a good speech therapist?

Gwen: if you're so ultra famous shouldn't you know one?

Arthur: Most speech therapists on set are for accents, not really for what we're talking about.

Gwen: yea right. "on set" keep up the facade and I might believe you.

Arthur: sent photo

Merlin was almost scared to open the photo, lest it was something that should not be shown to the common eye. He clicked on it while squinting, only to find the most boring thing.

Gwen: which website did you find the movie set off of?

Arthur: I'm on the set right now?

Gwen: and I'm the Queen of England

Arthur: Your Majesty?

Gwen: do you understand the word sarcasm

Arthur: Do you know how to use grammar?

Gwen: touchè

It was going to be a long night.

It had been a week. A week since Gwen had given Merlin her Tinder account details. To be honest, Gwen wasn't too fussed about it anymore, it seemed like Merlin was having much more fun with it.

Instead, over the course of the week, Gwen had gone out with a workmate, Lancelot, who was equally nice and silly and someone she knew wasn't a catfish. He was wonderful and exactly what she was looking for. Only now, she had to introduce him to Merlin. Which was the hard part.

She had tried the next Tuesday they met for Tacos, but he was so engrossed in his phone that she may as well have left and gone to bed. Whoever it was, Merlin was obsessed. And she told him as such.

"Me? Obsessed? I think you're going crazy Guinevere."

"If I'm so crazy, put down the phone Merlin."

"But we're in the middle of a conversation!"

Gwen cocked an eyebrow and threw on, what was known as, The Mother Face. Gwaine and Percival were terrified of it, Merlin knew not to get Gwen to that stage of annoyance. Well, every other time but now. Now, Merlin was fucked. (Ah, Swear Jar!)

"If that conversation is so important, then I'll go home and we can Taco Tuesday next week. Is that what you want?"

"No…?" Merlin shook his head and turned the phone screen down. "I'm so sorry Gwen, I never meant for it to get this far. It's just that…"

Gwen put her hand on his arm, beckoning him to continue talking. A soft gesture amongst the people hurrying to get their tacos.

"It's just that?"

"That, I didn't expect this guy to be so…down to earth? You'd expect a celebrity to be pompous and a tight ass, but he's not? Or at least, he doesn't seem to be that way?"

"And you believe that it's The Arthur Pendragon?"

"Gwen, he sent a picture of his birth certificate. This guy has absolutely no idea about hackers and the internet and normal people things. He's adorable." Merlin had a glint of care in his eyes, something sparkling. Something Gwen hadn't seen in a long time.

The last she had seen him this flustered was with a girl called Freya, but she had to move cities to look after her mother. She was lovely and Merlin was nearly heartbroken. The only thing that kept him from crying was Gwaine who took him out drinking every second night. Safe to say, neither of them did that again, after the reaction Gwen had when Merlin got alcohol poisoning.

"Oh yeah?" Gwen tilted her head and gave Merlin a slight smirk to show her amusement. He didn't notice.

"Yeah. He nearly gave me his social security number, it was hilarious. He knows bad puns and pick up lines to a tee and he's never seen Tangled." Merlin took a deep breath, "Gwen, I think we need to come clean."

Gwen nearly choked on her taco, "We? I think you mean, you. You need to come clean. I did nothing! I'm innocent!"

"And I'm the Queen of England."

"Right. You keep this up, Your Majesty, and you'll never get to meet the new dude who took your best friend out on a date ."

"You would never hide such a thing from me!"

"And you wouldn't look good in a gown, nice to know we agree on something."

Merlin took a bite out of his Taco, "Excuse you, I think I'd look magnificent in a gown!"

Gwen paused for a moment, thinking, the cogs in her brain started turning again, "Actually, with a cinched waist, petal sleeves and maybe a deep wine brocade… I think we could make it work!!"

Arthur Pendragon has never been left waiting. He has never been stood up and he has never in his life, had to wait for a date.

Today was the first time it happened. Arthur was not impressed.

Recently, he hadn't really been too impressed by much. His films had upsettingly bad scripts, his co-stars were not at all nice people and his father was breathing down his back almost every minute of the day.

The only time he had been able to breathe was when he was texting Gwen. She seemed lovely, although more of Morgana's type, but she had the breath of fresh air Arthur needed.

His particularly favourite conversation that he'd had with her, was about the new adaptation film he was starring in - A Farewell To Arms, by Hemingway. Arthur mentioned that he'd never read it before and almost got blocked. Gwen said that it was a favourite of hers and a literary masterpiece.

Arthur had read it in one night.

Even if he didn't necessarily agree with it being a masterpiece to the literary world, he did enjoy it. After reading it, he hated the adaptation script even more.

Now, he was left waiting in a cafe, looking for the woman who had made his days much brighter than they had been. He was close to telling Morgana that the Tinder plan, actually, wasn't the worst thing to happen.

Gwen said she'd be wearing a green shirt (emerald to be exact) and to keep an eye out. Arthur was definitely keeping an eye out.

It took 25 minutes before he saw her walk through the door and almost got up to greet her, until he realised she was wearing purple.

Now, Arthur might not know many things, but he knew that green and purple weren't the same colour. They were opposites on the colour wheel! That was a fun fact he kept in his pocket for trivia nights.

Other than that, the waiting, caffeine-less morning and now the colour change, did not sit well with Arthur at all. He was already prone to outbursts, he didn't want to mess this up.

Gwen saw him and walked over with a coffee and a chocolate slice in her hand, "Arthur Pendragon. Wow, it is a sight to see you in real life."

"And you… Are not wearing green."

"Was I meant to? Is there an issue with me wearing purple that I wasn't aware of?"

"No!"

"Right. Well."

An awkward silence fell over them, unlike what Arthur was used to when talking to her.

"Well. I spoke with my director about the scripting for A Farewell To Arms,and he said he'd change some of the lines to make it more natural to the time period." A small smile crept over Arthur’s face.

"A Farewell To Arms? Well, I'm glad it's more natural, but I really couldn't care less about Hemingway."

"I thought you said it was a literary masterpiece?"

"Not at all, Mr Pendragon. Hemingway sits in my bookshelf, getting cobwebs with how little I read it."

"And now you'll tell me you think my pickup lines are good."

"And I'm not sure what you mean by that." Gwen set her cup and plate down.

"I mean, that you're not at all what you seem to say you are. And what a great pity at that, because life isn't completely about good looks Guinevere! You need to be authentic to yourself. It's one thing to lie over an app but another to completely change your personality, and for what? You got swiped on by a celebrity? So? Forgot you're a person with your own opinions?"

Arthur wasn't entirely sure when he stood up or began raising his voice, but he was shocked by the additional presence in the conversation.

"And if you didn't have a stick up your ass, you'd know that you're falling into the common form of hypocrisy. Don't act like you don't fucking change your opinions for interviews and then over a dumb app!"

Arthur saw Gwen put an arm out to the additional voice, probably to calm it down. He needed one of those right now actually.

And to make matters worse, Arthur turned around to give the conversation intruder a piece of his mind and realised three important things.

The conversation intruder had the most vibrantly deep blue eyes. The words on Arthur's lips retreated back to the locker he had been trained to never open. Maybe this time, these eyes would hold the code and keep it closed.

The conversation intruder had a point. And that was bad. Because that meant Arthur was wrong. And that was a slim to none chance in any situation. And Arthur didn't hate it. Hmm.

The conversation intruder was wearing a green shirt. Emerald green to be exact.

"And you, must be Gwen." Arthur turned on his bright, Camera smile and was met with the most uninterested face, coupled with the gorgeous blue eyes. Arthur was done for.

"Do I look like the Queen of England?"

Arthur might have just fallen to the ground with that response, if he wasn't gripping the table like his life depended on it. Not only was this conversation intruder the handsomest person he laid eyes on, he was also the person Arthur had been thinking of for the past 3 months. This man was the reason for Arthur’s sleepless nights and calm days, the crux of his laughter and somehow also the most annoying thing that had ever happened to him.

Arthur did not know how to react.

"Your Majesty." Arthur had actually bowed. He didn't think he'd do that, but he also didn't believe in Love at First Sight and well, there's a first time for everything.

Gwen looked between the two men, intrigued, confused and held in a chuckle because what on earth was happening right now. The Arthur Pendragon, actor and millionaire, just bowed to her best friend, Merlin Emrys, humanities professor. Things like this didn't happen everyday. Things like this just didn't happen, at all.

She whispered a quick goodbye to her friend and walked to a table near the back, where Lancelot was waiting. Maybe, it wouldn't end so badly.

Let me know if you want the conversation between Arthur and Merlin, because really, this is such a sad ending from my end. I can do better, I promise lol.

I can't believe I didn't die from the second hand embarrassment.

Catfish au

Gwen gets a random text on her tinder Account by one Arthur Pendragon.

Gwen: it can't be real. THE Arthur Pendragon would never text me!!!

Merlin: I disagree. You're georgous. But you're probably right, it's a catfish

Merlin: you know what would be funny?

Gwen: oh no

Merlin: let me text with him. I'll pretend I'm you. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

That's how it begins...

...

Only that Arthur wasn't a catfish

Bonus: reveal

Merlin: this is so embarrassing, but erm... I catfished you *starts to ramble about the original situation*

Arthur: *not listening and supposed to be angry.* you're hot???!?

Merlin: what?

Arthur: *internal crisis* what?!

[blondieeu]

Water. Satoru g

satoru gojo always wants to be in the shower with you.

satoru enjoys showers with you. Even if it was sometimes cold when he had to wait for his turn under the water, or when you had the water turned too hot for his liking, or even when he was mad at you and was giving you the silent treatment. Satoru loves to shower with you.

For the first 4 months of your relationship it was cool—it was romantic. Having someone with you in a place where you can both be vulnerable and love one another, see all of each other. It was nice to have someone wash your back for you, maybe some sex some days but overall it was an intimate place for both of you.

“Man I could go for a shower right now.” “Go take one.” “Alright……….Come with me?” — satoru at least once a day, even if he already showered without you and he’s not even dirty. What a water waster!

But after a while, it was a little repetitive. Every single time you tried to shower, here came satoru ripping off all his clothes to come with you, not that you minded really. It was just something funny you noticed.

“Why can’t I take a shower with my lover?” "You can.." "So whats the problem now?"

You smiled at satoru through the shower curtain as he stood there still, shirt half off as he waited in case you were gonna kick him out of the bathroom, staring at you like a sad puppy waiting for a treat. You just stepped into the shower not too long ago, and the steam was starting to fog up the bathroom mirror.

“You’re always in here with me though satoru”

You laughed stepping under the hot water as it cascaded down your body, relaxing all your muscles. He made a fake sad face as he finished taking his shirt off, throwing it in the same pile you threw your clothes into. “I wanna be in here,” he whined playfully, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I wanna be with you baby.” He unbuckled his pants and threw down his boxers.

Satoru stepped into the shower and closed the curtain before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your wet body against his “What’s so wrong about wanting to share this intimate part of my day with my partner in crime?—hm??” He peppered kisses on your shoulders lovingly. “Why can’t I just be in love with my girlfriend?”

Blondieeu xx

[fontainexpert]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 — 𝙨𝙚-𝙢𝙞/𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 380

ᓚᘏᗢ  se-mi / player 380 x 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ᓚᘏᗢ  where it’s almost dinner time after the first game, but you are craving something else instead.

tags; lesbian sex, smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex. Se-mi! receiving it. *MUNCH is a slang commonly used in someone that really enjoys doing oral sex. it's often used by people who get pussy-drunk in oral sex, and don't care about their own pleasure, only their partner.

Throwing her head back, Se-mi loudly moaned.

As soon as she entered the bathroom, her underwear already wet with anticipation, she watched as you removed your own jacket, and then hers. The girl gave a few steps in your direction, and watched as you pulled her t-shirt, bringing her close, lips meeting with desperate kisses and wandering hands on her waist.

"Jump on the sink for me baby." You muttered, licking and sucking Se-mi's neck, giving a few hickeys she knew the you would proudly look at.

As soon as Se-mi jumped and opened her legs so you could be in the middle, it was game over. The sink was small, sure. Not to mention the tap sink that was bothering her spine. However, all discomfort went out the drain when she saw you kneeling in front of her and removing her pants and underwear in one go.

Buried nose-deep in her wet pussy, your hands gripped her thighs like a vice, digging in the meat both with your hands and tongue deep inside. The best part is that you knew that you would be the only one to see the purple bruises that would most likely form in the area. Se-mi’s skin always so sensitive, bruising easily with the smallest of efforts.

You ran your tongue over her clit, just to suck gently a second later, making Se-mi shake in an overstimulation that barely started. She tasted like heaven, god, and you thought how you would absolutely never tire of eating such a pretty pussy that always gushed so good in response to your touches and caresses.

You continued sucking her clit, giving a few stops to flatten up your tongue and roll it, watching as Se-mi twitched and moaned. You brought your tongue to the dripping hole of the pussy you were currently devouring, groaning in pleasure and pain as the woman screamed once more, grabbing your hair and shoving your face deep in her pussy, riding it slowly, a breathless smile on her face.

"I love- I love your mouth." She moaned with a smile on her face, biting her lip piercing and making movements back and forth, riding your tongue, chuckling in disbelief at you, whose face was buried in the middle of her thighs, rolled your eyes back at your head, as if you was the one receiving it. "You love when I ride your face, don't you?" She finished talking, throwing her head back with a delirious sigh. "My little *munch."

Se-mi's eyes went to the back of her head in pleasure, continuing to moan freely as the you under her continued to munch her pussy away. Arching her back, she gasped as she felt two fingers enter her, plunging back and forth.

Her hips continued to move up and down, rubbing her pretty pussy all over your nose and mouth, smearing her juices.. She continued to shamelessly ride your face, opening her legs wider, arching her back as the seconds passed and more pleasure she felt.

Oh how you wished you both were back in Se-mi's apartment, where the woman would be laying down completely naked, receiving the best oral sex she ever received from someone, playing with her nipples and teasing the girl in between her thighs with images of her squeezing her boobs and twisting her nipples. Usually, this would trigger you to continue eating her as long as she wished, no matter how many orgasms the girl would go through.

But you would be completely lying if you said that you weren’t enjoying it as it was now.

Each time Se-mi would close her thighs, you would just chuckle against her clit and force them open, enjoying how the smallest groan or pressure on the sensitive part would make her entire body quiver. You made circular movements with the tip of your tongue, appreciating the pink bundle of nerves, now angry red, asking for release and more pleasure.

A devoted munch, you were.

It truly didn’t matter how many times you ate Se-mi out, you never would tire. Ever. Her pussy tasted like heaven, the perfect taste and glistening so much it would shine against a light. If possible to one day choose how to die, you would have absolutely voted to die in between her thighs, slurping and swallowing all the release Se-mi would give to you.

You continued to lap at her clit, curling your fingers up precisely against the spot that always melted the other girl. Scissoring your fingers inside the tight hole they were in, you sensed the walls beginning to spasm around them, knowing that the girl would cum soon, and unfortunately, the fun would be cut short.

Considering that they were doing this inside the bathroom of the place they were first kidnapped, you begrudgingly knew that you wouldn’t have much time to tease Se-mi.

Broken moans left Se-mi's mouth, not a single coherent phrase or word leaving her lips. You hungrily looked up, watching as the woman who always acted so nonchalant about everything around her, was now pathetically moaning and begging for release, not even managing to form a sentence.

She whined a few weaks coming, coming, coming one after the other, broken pleas at the tip of her tongue. She was mewling, eyes rolled at the back of her head, her juices now dripping down your chin and completely soaking your skin. Lucky for you, already knowing that you liked it messy, liked to slurp it all up, make Se-mi's pussy as sloppy as possible and then bury your face deep inside; as a precaution, you removed your shirt, staying only in a bra. And now, as you lapped on the sweet pussy in your mouth, a few drops of the juice would drip from your chin, to your breasts.

Removing your face, you breathed quickly. "I need you to cum for me." Humming as you went back to suck at the clit. Grasping Se-mi's thighs and bringing them even closer, closing them around your head and burying your face once more to the wet paradise. 

Se-mi moaned your name, riding your face with gusto, tongue often touching her own lip piercing, while her hands touched your hair and continued pressing your mouth into her pussy. You moved your face, going side to side and slurping her clit and fingers plunging harder inside her wet hole. No doubt, your entire face would be smeared in her juices at this point. 

Unfortunately, you had to move back and grasp a few gulps of air, before diving back in.

"C'mon baby, make a mess of my face."

That was enough for Se-mi. She began chanting your name like a prayer, gasping in the immense pleasure she was feeling. The shock spamming through her body, thighs shaking terribly and certainly would have fallen if she was standing. She came with a loud groan, eyes closed but rolling at the back of her head.

You, however, continued sucking and slurping every juice that now fell inside your mouth. Drinking like a starved woman, and maybe you were, just not for food or actual water. 

Se-mi whined in overstimulation, pushing your head back. You obeyed and unfortunately released her clit from your lips, giving one last lick in appreciation before removing your fingers from her vagina and licking them up, maintaining eye contact with the woman.

“Thank you for the dessert before dinner, baby.”

HELLO; thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! - this smut part was taken from my fanfiction on wattpad, called "CARNAL", by the username of fontainexpert! feel free to see the entire fanfic if you'd like! <3

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ house of m - bittersweet

chapter summary: Logan wakes up in a distorted reality created by Wanda. Everything is far too perfect, including the fact you're alive and well.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: so this series, i love you, in every life, are all mainly oneshots of the lives you and logan have in the multiverse. unless i specify, they all are oneshots!

anyways, i wanted to do something a little different and this was actually my first idea for the multiverse concept between logan and reader. enjoy!

and, an extra note, thank y'all so much for 1k followers! i've truly had the most fun writing these stories and hearing your feedback!

warnings/tags: loosely based on 'house of m' story-line, mentioned heart problems, mentioned cardiac arrest, mentioned character death, not proofread

series masterlist

The early morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Xavier Academy. Logan sat up in bed, the tangled sheets barely covering the muscles of his broad chest. The warm smell of coffee and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen. For a moment, he let himself linger, staring at the peaceful room.

It felt wrong.

The woman standing at the counter—you—shouldn’t have been here. Your laugh as you scolded the toaster for burning the bread shouldn’t have existed. And yet, it did.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. You turned, a mug in hand, wearing one of his old flannel shirts that hung loosely over your frame. “Didn’t think you’d ever wake up. I was about to eat breakfast without you.”

Logan grunted, “maybe you should’ve.”

“Grumpy already?” You set the mug on the table near him. “You didn’t even try the coffee yet.”

He took the mug but didn’t drink. Instead, he studied your face—so familiar, so perfect. Your hair was tousled from sleep, your smile easy, as though you didn’t carry the weight of a dozen deaths. You didn’t remember them, but he did. And yet, you looked at him like you always had in those other lives, with affection, curiosity, and warmth.

“What?” you asked, tilting her head.

Logan shook his head and finally took a sip. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything.

---

Later that day, Logan stood outside the academy’s training grounds, watching students practice their powers under your guidance. You stood at the center of the group, gesturing with animated hands as you instructed a young telekinetic mutant on control.

“That’s it,” you encouraged, your voice carrying over the field. “Focus on the edges of what you can feel, not just the center. You’ll find more strength there.”

The student grinned as a boulder hovered unsteadily in the air, then dropped it with a soft thud.

“Good! You’re getting it!” you cheered, clapping your hands.

Logan couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t just the joy you exuded or the way you brought out the best in people. It was the fact that you seemed to belong here, as if this world had always been yours.

Except it hadn’t.

He leaned against the railing, lighting a cigar as Magneto’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind: “A world where mutants thrive is a world where we all belong, Logan. Why fight against it?”

But Logan knew better. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. And he was starting to think the cracks in this illusion were beginning to show.

Logan stubbed his cigar out on the metal railing, his jaw tight. Watching you laugh with the students made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen that smile, those bright eyes so full of life, but it still hit him like a gut punch.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

He crossed the field to where you stood, finishing up with the young telekinetic. The boulder wobbled again before thudding to the ground, earning a small cheer from the group.

“Take five, guys,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But don’t wander too far—we’re not done yet.”

The students scattered, leaving you alone with Logan as he approached. You tilted your head, giving him a curious look.

“What’s up, honey?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Logan’s lips twitched at the nickname. You’d called him that in another life, a long time ago—at least that’s what it felt like. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to find the right words, but everything felt too big to say out loud.

“You’re good with them,” he finally said, nodding toward the students.

Your smile grew, soft and pleased. “They’re easy to work with. Just need someone to believe in them.” You stepped closer, tilting your head to study him. “What’s really on your mind, Logan? You’ve been watching me like I’ve got a third eye.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Logan looked away, his gaze falling on the boulder the kid had been lifting. “This place,” he said after a beat. “Feels too good to be true, don’t it?”

You frowned, stepping closer so you could look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field, the academy, and then to you. “All of it.”

Your brows knit together, and your voice softened. “Logan, what’s going on? You’ve been acting... off.”

Logan’s eyes snapped back to yours. He wanted to tell you everything—to unload the weight he carried, to make you understand that none of this was what it seemed. But how could he, when you were at the center of it all?

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, turning to walk away.

You grabbed his arm, your touch grounding him. “Don’t do that,” you said. “Don’t shut me out. Not after everything.”

Logan froze. The sincerity in your voice cut through him like a knife. He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours. “After everything, huh?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You don’t even know the half of it, darlin’.”

You blinked, startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of Magneto’s voice interrupted him.

“Logan,” Erik called from across the yard, his tone calm but commanding. “A word.”

Logan clenched his jaw, then glanced back at you. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Logan—”

But he was already walking away.

---

Inside the academy’s briefing room, Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed as Magneto stood at the head of the table.

“You’ve been restless,” Erik said, watching him closely.

Logan snorted. “Restless? That what you’re callin’ it?”

Erik’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what you’re thinking. That this world isn’t real. That it’s an illusion.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I am,” Erik said simply. “Because it’s a better world. A world where mutants thrive, where humans no longer threaten us, and where the people we love are alive.”

Logan’s chest tightened. “It ain’t real, Erik. None of it is. And when it all comes crashin’ down, what then?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Erik said. “But you? You’re torn. I see the way you look at her, Logan. Y/N’s alive here. Isn’t that enough?”

Logan pushed off the wall, his fists clenched. “You think I don’t want this to be real? You think I don’t wanna believe that she’s really here, laughin’ and smilin’ like she used to?” He shook his head, his voice dropping. “But it ain’t real. And if I let myself believe it is... I lose her all over again.”

Erik’s expression softened, just slightly. “Sometimes, Logan, the illusion is better than the truth.”

“Not for me,” Logan growled, turning on his heel and storming out.

---

You found Logan later that night in the library, nursing a drink and staring out the window. The moonlight cast a faint glow over his rugged features, and he looked older, more tired than usual.

“Didn’t think you were the library type,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

He didn’t turn around. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You stepped closer, sliding into the chair across from him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You ever feel like somethin’ ain’t right, but you can’t put your finger on it?”

You frowned, leaning forward. “Sometimes. Why?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “This world... It’s too perfect, Y/N. Too... clean. Like it’s all been stitched together from pieces that don’t quite fit.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “What are you saying, Logan?”

“I’m sayin’...” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to his drink. “I’m sayin’ I don’t think this is real. Any of it.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan, that’s... That’s a lot to drop on…” You trailed off, almost like someone cut off your train of thought and replaced it with a new one. “But if things are better now, isn’t that good?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he leaned back in his chair, swirling the liquid in his glass. His gaze didn’t leave yours, but his expression hardened, like he was fighting to keep something buried.

“Good for who, darlin’?” His voice was low, rough, and filled with a tension that made your stomach twist.

You frowned. “For us. For the kids. For everyone.” You gestured vaguely toward the window. “Logan, this—whatever it is—it’s not perfect, but it’s better than what we’ve had before, isn’t it? You’re not running. I’m not… gone.”

His hand froze mid-motion, the glass hovering just shy of his lips. He set it down carefully, his movements deliberate, like he was holding himself back.

“That’s the problem,” he said, voice quieter now but no less intense. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You blinked, confusion knitting your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Logan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you like you held all the answers to questions he was too afraid to ask. His voice softened, tinged with something that sounded almost like guilt.

“You died,” he said, the words landing heavy between you.

Your breath caught, the room seeming to close in around you. “Logan…”

“I saw it,” he continued, his voice rough and unsteady. “You had a heart attack. Dropped dead to the ground and only survived because Jean did chest compressions until the ambulance came. You were only in the hospital for two hours before you had another one. They said it was an undiagnosed hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”

Logan’s voice cracked slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked on you. “You were too damn young for somethin’ like that.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table. “One minute, we were talkin’ about dinner plans, and the next... you were gone.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “Logan, I—” You stopped, searching his face for something, anything that would make sense of what he was saying. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m here. I’m fine.”

He exhaled sharply, the sound almost a growl. “That’s what’s wrong with all this, darlin’. You’re here, smilin’, laughin’—but you’re not supposed to be. You died.” His voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “And now you’re here, like it never happened.”

You blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “I don’t—Logan, do you hear yourself? That’s insane.” You rubbed at your temples, a headache creeping in. “I didn’t die. I’d remember if something like that happened.”

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and filled with frustration. “That’s just it. You don’t remember because this place—it’s not real.”

You froze, your hand dropping to the table. “What are you talking about?”

Logan leaned forward again, his hands clenched into fists on the table. “Wanda,” he said, his voice rough. “She made this... world. A perfect little picture where everyone’s happy, where the people we lost are back.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wanda? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s the reason you’re here, sweetheart,” Logan said, his gaze unwavering. “She did this for her own reasons, but you—she brought you back too.”

You shook your head, standing up abruptly. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Why would Wanda do something like that? And why... why me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he stood, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Because she cared about you. She couldn’t stand what happened. Hell, I couldn’t stand it either.” His voice softened, and he took a step closer. “But it ain’t real, Y/N. No matter how much I want it to be.”

You stepped back, your pulse pounding in your ears. “You’re saying this—me being here—is some kind of... illusion? Like I’m not even real?”

“No,” Logan said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re real, darlin’. But this world? It ain’t. It’s Wanda’s doin’. She twisted everything to give us what we wanted.” He paused, his expression conflicted. “And I’m guessin’ she thought I wanted you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “And do you? Want me here, I mean?”

Logan’s expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing as he stepped closer. “You think I’d ever not want you here?” His voice was low, rough with emotion. “Every time I lost you, it felt like I lost a part of myself. You think I don’t want this? That I don’t want to wake up every damn day and see you smilin’ at me?”

Your breath caught as he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch was grounding, even as everything else spun out of control.

“But it ain’t real,” he continued, his voice heavy with regret. “And if I start believin’ it is... I’ll lose you all over again when it falls apart.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Logan, if this isn’t real, then... what happens to me?”

He flinched, the question hitting him like a punch to the gut. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll be damned if I let it happen without a fight.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. The room felt too small, too overwhelming. “I need... I need to think,” you said, stepping back.

Logan let you go, his hand falling to his side. “Take all the time you need, darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Just don’t forget—no matter what happens, I’m here. Always.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to respond, and turned to leave. But as you walked away, his words echoed in your mind, filling the silence with a truth you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

---

You found Wanda standing by the edge of the mansion’s sprawling grounds, her gaze distant as if she were watching something far beyond what anyone else could see. Her crimson coat fluttered lightly in the breeze, and the energy around her felt heavier than usual—a tension you couldn’t quite place.

“Wanda?” you called, your voice trembling slightly.

She turned, her expression calm but with a faint shadow behind her eyes. “Hey,” she greeted softly. “You okay?”

You took a deep breath and stepped closer, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something feels... off. I mean, this place—everything—it’s almost too perfect, you know?”

Wanda’s lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “Too perfect? That’s not something I hear often.”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your swirling thoughts into words. “Logan said something. He said—” You stopped, your voice faltering as her gaze locked onto yours.

“What did Logan say?” she asked, her tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of something sharper.

“That this... all of this... isn’t real,” you said slowly, watching her reaction. “He thinks you... made it all up. That you brought me back somehow. Is that true?”

Wanda’s expression softened, her eyes filled with something like sorrow. “Y/N, why would he say something like that? You’re here. You’re alive. Isn’t that what matters?”

“That’s not an answer,” you countered, stepping closer. “Wanda, please. I need to know. Am I—” Your voice cracked, but you pushed on. “Am I real? Is any of this real?”

For a moment, Wanda’s face flickered with something—guilt, maybe? Or hesitation? Then she reached out, placing her hands gently on your shoulders.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “You’re overthinking this. You’ve been through so much; it’s natural to feel... disoriented.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “This isn’t just me overthinking. Logan said—”

Her eyes glowed faintly red, and the air seemed to hum around you. “Logan’s been through a lot too. Sometimes he... struggles to separate the past from the present.”

Her words made sense—or at least, they should have. But there was a nagging doubt in the back of your mind, a thread you couldn’t quite pull free.

“Wanda, I—”

“Shh,” she murmured, her hands moving to cradle your face. The red glow in her eyes intensified. “You don’t need to worry about this, Y/N. Just... let it go.”

The hum grew louder, and a sudden wave of warmth flooded your mind, like slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep. The doubts, the questions, the gnawing sense of unease—they all seemed to dissolve, leaving behind only a gentle calm.

You blinked, your thoughts fuzzy. “What was I saying?”

Wanda smiled, her hands dropping to her sides. “Nothing important. You’re just tired, that’s all. Why don’t you take a break? Go spend some time with Logan. He’s been worried about you.”

You nodded slowly, the lingering haze in your mind making it hard to argue. “Yeah... maybe you’re right.”

Wanda watched you walk away, her expression unreadable as she turned back to the horizon. The faint glow in her eyes dimmed, and the breeze carried a whisper of her voice, too soft for anyone to hear.

“I’m sorry.”

---

From the shadows, Logan watched as you disappeared into the mansion. His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He’d seen Wanda’s subtle hand movements, the faint glimmer of red that surrounded you as she spoke.

“She took it outta her head,” Logan muttered to himself, his voice rough with anger. “Dammit, Wanda.”

The truth hadn’t just been hidden—it had been stolen from you. And Logan knew he’d have to find a way to get it back.

---

Logan leaned against the doorway of your shared room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over you as you flipped through a magazine, completely at ease. Your relaxed posture, your soft smile—it all seemed so real. But Logan knew better.

You glanced up, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. “Hey,” you greeted, setting the magazine aside. “How long have you been lurking there?”

“Long enough,” Logan said, his voice rough but tinged with affection. He walked in, pulling the chair from the corner and spinning it around to sit backward, arms resting on the backrest. “We need to talk, darlin’.”

The tone of his voice caught your attention, and you straightened slightly. “That sounds serious. What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours. “It’s about Wanda. About all of this.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What about Wanda?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and his fists clenched against the chair. “This... this world we’re livin’ in? It ain’t real. She made it.”

Your brows furrowed, and you leaned forward, confusion flickering in your eyes. “Logan, what are you talking about? Of course, it’s real. We’re here. We’re together.”

“That’s the problem,” he said, his voice heavy. “It’s too perfect. Think about it. The mansion’s in one piece. No one’s fightin’. You’re here. Alive.”

You blinked, the weight of his words hitting you like a sudden gust of wind. “What do you mean, I’m alive? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Logan hesitated, the memory of losing you—your last breath, the stillness that followed—flashing behind his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “You don’t remember, do you? We had this conversation a few hours ago. You died, a few months ago.”

You stared at him, your voice steady but softer than usual. “Even if it’s not real, why can’t you just accept it?”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward in his chair. “Because it ain’t real, darlin’. You know me. I don’t do ‘perfect.’ This—” he gestured vaguely, his fingers flexing—“this whole thing? It’s like livin’ in a dream, but dreams don’t last. They break. And when this one does...” He trailed off, his throat working around unspoken words.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to break,” you said quietly, your eyes locked on his. “Maybe we could just let it be.”

“That’s not how it works, sweetheart,” Logan said, shaking his head. His voice was rough, the weight of years pressing down on each word. “I’ve seen too much, lost too much, to believe in fairy tales. And this? This is Wanda’s doing. It ain’t right.”

You exhaled slowly, sitting back on the bed. “Logan, why does it matter if it’s real or not? If it feels real—if we’re together, happy—why can’t that be enough for you?”

Logan let out a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Because you died, Y/N,” he snapped, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I held you, felt your heartbeat stop. I buried you, darlin’. That’s real. That’s what I remember.”

The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the lamp. You looked at him, your expression unreadable, before speaking softly. “And now I’m here.”

“That ain’t how it works!” Logan growled, his voice rising before he caught himself. He ran a hand through his hair, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he tried to rein in his frustration. “People don’t just come back. Not like this. You know it, Wanda knows it, and—dammit—you should know it too.”

“I know you’re hurting,” you said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm. “But what if this was her way of fixin’ things? Of givin’ us another chance?”

Logan stared at your hand on his arm, his jaw clenching tightly. “She didn’t ‘fix’ anything,” he said after a long pause, his voice low. “She twisted it. Made somethin’ up ‘cause she couldn’t face the truth. That’s not the same.”

“And what’s the truth, Logan?” you challenged, your voice firm but still gentle. “That I’m gone? That you’re supposed to just keep going, living in that pain forever? What’s wrong with her wantin’ to take some of that away?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, a storm brewing behind them. “It ain’t about me, darlin’. It’s about you. She’s playin’ with your life like it’s a toy, like it’s somethin’ she can rewrite when she feels like it.”

You hesitated, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. “If I’m here now—if I get to wake up every day and see you, talk to you, love you—then maybe it’s worth it.”

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “You don’t understand,” he said, pacing a few steps before turning back to face you. “When this falls apart—and it will—it’s gonna tear us both to pieces. Again.”

“Maybe it won’t,” you countered, standing to meet his gaze. “Maybe it can last.”

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause she made sure you’d believe it.”

“Or maybe,” you said, your voice rising slightly, “I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I want to believe it. Because I choose to.”

The weight of your words hung between you, the space between you both charged with unspoken emotions. Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving as he stared at you.

“You really think this is what you want?” he asked, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “To live in somethin’ that ain’t real, just ‘cause it feels good?”

“Yes,” you said simply, your voice unwavering. “Because being with you? It feels right.”

Logan closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders slumping slightly. When he looked at you again, there was something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. “You deserve better than some fake life, Y/N. You deserve somethin’ real.”

You stepped closer, placing your hand on his cheek. He didn’t pull away. “And maybe, for me, this is real. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all I need.”

His hand came up to cover yours, his calloused fingers rough against your skin. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly, “if I lose you again...”

“You won’t,” you whispered, your thumb brushing his cheek. “I’m here, Logan. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He didn’t respond, just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if you might disappear at any moment. The warmth of his embrace was familiar, comforting, and for a moment, it felt like maybe you could convince him. Maybe you could make him believe.

But deep down, you knew Logan’s grip on reality was stronger than your faith in this world.

---

“Hey! I was gonna ask you to explain quantum—” Peter cut himself off from his excited question, only to quickly turn his head behind him like he sensed something.

“Peter?” you asked, tilting your head as you watched him freeze mid-step. “Everything alright?”

Peter blinked rapidly, his usual boyish energy dimmed as his gaze darted between you and the empty hallway behind him. He scratched the back of his neck, forcing a sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah. Totally fine. Just thought I heard something, but, uh, guess it was nothing. Mansion’s old, you know? Creaky floors and all that.”

You narrowed your eyes, not quite buying his excuse. “Since when do creaky floors freak you out? You’re Spider-Man, Peter.”

He laughed nervously, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “True, but, you know, sometimes even Spider-Men get spooked by weird noises. Occupational hazard.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, crossing your arms. “What were you gonna ask me before you got distracted?”

“Oh, right!” Peter brightened slightly, though there was still a flicker of unease in his expression. “I was gonna ask if you could explain quantum entanglement again. I swear, I’ve read about it like a million times, but my brain just refuses to cooperate.”

Before you could answer, Logan’s voice echoed from down the hallway. “Parker. Got a minute?”

Peter turned, relief flashing across his face like Logan had just handed him a lifeline. “Uh, yeah! Sure thing, Mr. Logan. I mean, Logan. I mean, uh—”

“Just get over here,” Logan said gruffly, jerking his head toward the corner.

You frowned as Peter shot you a quick, apologetic grin before hurrying off to join Logan. Something about the exchange felt... off. Logan had been acting strange ever since your conversation earlier, and now Peter seemed jittery too.

“Logan?” you called after them, but neither turned back.

Curiosity gnawed at you as you debated whether to follow. Ultimately, you decided to let it go—for now. Whatever they were discussing, it could wait.

---

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” Logan asked, his tone low as Peter reached him. He glanced over Peter’s shoulder to make sure you hadn’t followed.

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence faltering under Logan’s intense gaze. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding... crazy, but—does something feel... wrong to you? Like, about all of this?”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You pickin’ up on that too?”

“Yeah,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s, like, Wanda. And she’s scary enough when she’s not messing with reality, but now... I don’t know, man. It’s like I can feel the edges of it. Like it’s all just... holding together by duct tape or something.”

Logan nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong. This whole thing—it ain’t real. It’s Wanda’s doin’. She created all this.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “So, what do we do? I mean, if it’s not real, we can’t just—”

“We’re not doin’ anything yet,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “First, we gotta figure out how deep this goes. She’s got Y/N wrapped up in it, convinced it’s all sunshine and rainbows.”

Peter’s face fell. “Does Y/N know?”

Logan let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “She knows what I told her, but Wanda’s got her so tied up in this illusion, she doesn’t wanna believe it. Thinks maybe this is better than the real thing.”

Peter hesitated, glancing back toward the direction you’d gone. “Do you think she’s right? About it being better, I mean.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a near growl. “No. ‘Cause when this all comes crashin’ down, it’ll hurt her worse than losin’ it the first time. And I’m not lettin’ that happen.”

Peter nodded, his usual quips forgotten in the weight of the moment. “Alright. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“For now? Keep this between us,” Logan said. “And keep an eye on her. If Wanda tries to mess with her head again, you let me know.”

“You got it,” Peter said, his tone more serious than Logan was used to hearing.

Logan clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Good. Now get outta here before she gets suspicious.”

Peter gave a quick salute and took off down the hallway, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts.

---

When Logan finally made his way back to your shared room, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he entered, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Hey. What was that about with Peter?”

“Kid just had some questions,” Logan said, brushing off the topic as he closed the door behind him.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your tone skeptical. “And you couldn’t have answered them in front of me because...?”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. “It wasn’t anything important, sweetheart. Just somethin’ about training.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze searching his face. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we talked about Wanda earlier. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Logan hesitated, his instincts warring with his desire to protect you. Finally, he let out a heavy breath. “Darlin’, I told you everything I know. This ain’t real. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop tryin’ to keep you safe.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m not scared, Logan. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

He looked at you, his heart aching with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured.

But deep down, he knew the fight was far from over.

---

The illusion Wanda created was starting to fracture, but only those closest to her could see it. To everyone else, it was as if the world had always been this way—serene, idyllic, perfect. For Logan, it was anything but. He watched carefully, taking note of small inconsistencies no one else seemed to notice: the same bird flying in the same pattern every morning, children laughing at nothing, and the way the sun never seemed to fully set, as though Wanda didn’t have the energy to finish the day.

He wasn’t the only one noticing. Erik, though far subtler in his observations, had begun pulling Wanda aside more often, his sharp gaze never leaving her. Meanwhile, the Avengers who were scattered across this fabricated utopia seemed to be... different. Thor had grown quieter, almost distant, his booming laugh no longer ringing through the mansion. Natasha occasionally paused mid-conversation, her expression going blank for a moment before she’d snap back to herself. Steve? He smiled too much, too wide, like he was trying to convince himself this world was real.

But for you, things had only grown more complicated.

---

The evening light filtered through the mansion's wide windows, painting everything in golden hues. You sat on the couch, flipping through an old book. Logan entered, his steps heavy, his expression unreadable. You glanced up, offering him a soft smile.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice low as he settled beside you.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, setting the book down. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the window. “You ever feel like somethin’ ain’t right? Like... this place, this whole damn thing, is holdin’ its breath?”

You frowned. “Logan, we’ve talked about this. I know you’re still adjusting—”

“Adjustin’?” he cut in, his tone sharper than he intended. “This ain’t about me. It’s about you. About what’s real and what ain’t.”

You stiffened slightly, your heart sinking. “Logan, we’ve been through this. I am real. I don’t know why you keep doubting that.”

“Because this world ain’t real, sweetheart,” he said, his frustration clear. “It’s Wanda’s doin’. And I think, deep down, you know that too.”

You shook your head, your voice rising slightly. “So what, you think I’m just... some figment of her imagination? That I’m not really here?”

“I think she brought you back,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. “But not like you think. And now it’s all startin’ to fall apart.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that he was wrong, but his words planted a seed of doubt that you couldn’t shake. “If this world is falling apart,” you said carefully, “then why are we still here? Why is Wanda still holding it together?”

“Maybe she’s tryin’ to keep you,” he replied. “Maybe you’re the reason she did all this in the first place.”

The air between you grew heavy, and for the first time, you found yourself unable to meet his gaze.

---

Elsewhere in the mansion, the cracks in reality were becoming impossible to ignore.

In the kitchen, Storm froze mid-motion, a glass slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor. She blinked rapidly, confusion washing over her face. “Where... where am I?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tony Stark stood in the hallway, staring at a photo on the wall. In it, he stood beside Steve, Thor, and Natasha, all of them smiling. But the faces in the photo shifted subtly, warping into something unrecognizable before snapping back to normal. “Friday,” he murmured, though his AI didn’t respond. “What the hell is going on?”

And then there was Charles. He sat in his study, his hands pressed to his temples as he tried to focus. “Wanda,” he whispered, his voice strained. “You need to stop this. It’s breaking.”

But Wanda, standing in her room, refused to listen. Her fingers trembled as she clutched a framed photo of you, her lips moving in a silent mantra. “It’s perfect. It has to stay perfect. They deserve this.”

The glow of her magic pulsed erratically around her, and for a moment, the world flickered. The colors dulled, the mansion creaked as if it were alive, and the faint sound of static buzzed in the air.

---

You found Wanda as she exited Billy and Tommy’s shared bedroom, her steps hesitant as she moved down the hall toward the library. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and her expression was distant, like she was lost in a storm of thoughts. You called out to her, your voice firm, cutting through the silence.

“Wanda.”

She froze mid-step, her shoulders tensing before she turned to face you. Her eyes darted to the floor for a moment, then back to you. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice careful. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”

You crossed your arms, holding your ground. “I could ask you the same thing. What were you doing in the boys’ room?”

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, her tone soothing. “I was just checking on them. Making sure they were okay.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, taking a step back. “Don’t try to brush me off like that. We need to talk.”

“About what?” she asked, though you could see the flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, willing yourself to stay calm. “Logan told me. About all of this. About what you’re doing. And I want the truth, Wanda—not some carefully constructed excuse. No wiping my mind, no distractions. Just tell me.”

Wanda’s lips parted as if to respond, but she faltered, her gaze dropping to the floor again. Her silence was answer enough. You took a shaky breath, pushing past the lump in your throat.

“It’s true, isn’t it? None of this is real.”

“It’s real,” she said quickly, her voice laced with desperation. “It’s real because I made it real. I did this for you, Y/N. For them.” Her hands gestured vaguely toward the hallway, where Billy and Tommy’s room was.

“And Vision,” you added quietly. The name hit her like a slap, and her expression crumpled for a brief moment before she steeled herself again.

“For all of us,” she whispered.

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “No. You didn’t do this for all of us, Wanda. You did this for you. Because you couldn’t let go.”

Her breath hitched, and she took a step closer. “You don’t understand. You—you died, Y/N. Do you remember that? How helpless I felt when you—when I couldn’t—” She broke off, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

“I know I died,” you said, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach. “Logan told me. But that doesn’t justify this.”

“You don’t understand,” she repeated, her tone defensive. “You don’t know what it was like to lose you. To lose them. It was too much, Y/N. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it.”

Your heart twisted at the pain in her voice, but you refused to let it cloud your judgment. “So you decided to rewrite the world instead? To play god and pull us all into your grief? Wanda, you can’t keep doing this. You’re hurting everyone, including yourself.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for you, but you stepped back again. Her face crumpled, and for the first time, the cracks in her façade were fully visible.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. “I just wanted us to have a chance. To have peace.”

“Then show me,” you said, your voice softer now. “Show me what happened. How I died. I need to see it, Wanda.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. I can’t do that to you. It’s too much—it’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” you said firmly. “I deserve to know. I need to know.”

Wanda hesitated, her hands clenching at her sides. “Y/N, please—”

“Please, Wanda,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “If you care about me at all, you’ll show me.”

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, with a shaky breath, she nodded. “Alright. But... I’m sorry.”

---

You and Logan were eating leftovers that Ororo had made earlier in the day—the two of you had been… preoccupied with something else during dinner time.

“We could go to that Chinese place you’ve been wantin’ to go to.” Logan said.

“After we go to the bookstore?” you asked sweetly, leaning back in your chair. “I want to see if they have that book I’ve been wanting.” You rolled your shoulders again, wincing slightly as a dull ache pulsed between your shoulder blades.

Logan, sitting across the table from you, gave you a look. “Still feelin’ that?” he asked, his tone sharp with concern.

You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s probably just from sitting weird or something. I’ll stretch later—it’ll be fine.”

“Darlin’, you’ve been complainin’ about that for days. And that stomach pain you had last night? Maybe you oughta talk to Jean, just to be safe.”

You sighed, a bit exasperated. “I will, Logan. Tomorrow morning, before we head out, okay?”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he gave a short nod. “Good. I ain’t takin’ chances with you.”

You smirked, rising from your chair with your plate in hand. “What, suddenly all cautious? Didn’t seem that way earlier when we were—”

Logan gave a low growl, his expression softening into an amused grin. “Keep talkin’, sweetheart. See where it gets ya.”

You laughed, placing the plate in the sink and rinsing it off. Over your shoulder, you teased, “Maybe I’ll save that for later. You know, give you something to look forward to.”

“You’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, shaking his head, though his lips twitched upward. You could feel his eyes on you as you moved to the fridge and grabbed two beers, popping the caps off on the counter.

“You want your usual toast to Ororo for dinner?” you joked, turning back to him with a beer in hand. “Something like ‘thanks for makin’ us look bad in the kitchen’?”

“Funny,” he deadpanned, reaching for the beer as you handed it to him. “You should quit physics and take up comedy.”

Before you could reply, a wave of dizziness washed over you, sudden and disorienting. Your vision blurred, and the edges of the room seemed to darken. The beer bottle slipped from your grasp, shattering on the floor as you staggered back.

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and alarmed.

You tried to steady yourself, but your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the floor. Your chest tightened painfully, the ache between your shoulder blades now radiating outward like fire. You could barely hear Logan as the room tilted further into darkness.

“Jean!” Logan bellowed, his voice raw with panic. He was at your side in an instant, his hands trembling as he tried to rouse you. “Darlin’, stay with me. C’mon, open your eyes!”

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and then Jean and Scott burst into the kitchen. Jean dropped to her knees beside you, her fingers immediately moving to your neck to check for a pulse.

“Her heart’s stopped,” Jean said urgently, already positioning her hands on your chest. She began compressions without hesitation, her movements precise but desperate. “Scott, call 911. Now!”

Scott fumbled for his phone, his usually steady demeanor cracking as he dialed. “We need an ambulance at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It’s an emergency—cardiac arrest.”

Logan hovered over you, his hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to intervene. “Jean, she—she just dropped. She said her back was hurtin’, her stomach—”

Jean cut him off, her tone firm. “Logan, give me space! Keep talking to her—she might still hear you.”

“Darlin’, you gotta fight this,” Logan rasped, his voice breaking. “You hear me? You ain’t quittin’ on me, not now. Not ever.”

The minutes stretched agonizingly, Jean alternating between compressions and breaths while Scott relayed information to the dispatcher. Finally, you gasped—a ragged, shallow breath that made Jean sit back in relief.

“She’s back,” Jean said, though her voice was tight with worry. “But we need to get her to the hospital. There’s something—”

Before she could finish, the sound of sirens cut through the air, and the paramedics arrived. They worked swiftly, loading you onto a stretcher and carrying you out, Logan never leaving your side until they pushed him back to allow the medics room to work.

At the hospital, hours passed in a tense blur. Jean, Scott, and Logan paced the waiting room, the latter practically wearing a groove into the floor. When a doctor finally emerged, Logan surged forward, his expression dark with worry.

“She’s stable, for now,” the doctor said carefully. “But she experienced a significant cardiac event. We’re running tests, but it appears to be hypertrophic cardiomyopathy—an undiagnosed condition.”

“And what the hell does that mean?” Logan demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“It means her heart’s working overtime. There’s thickening in the walls, and it likely led to her arrest,” the doctor explained. “She’ll need monitoring and possibly surgery to prevent future complications.”

But you never made it that far. Two hours later, as Logan sat by your side, clutching your hand in his, the monitors began to wail. Your heart stopped again. The staff rushed in, pushing Logan aside as they tried to revive you.

This time, you didn’t come back.

---

Your eyes opened with a sharp gasp, the room spinning as you met Wanda’s tear-streaked face. Her red, glowing irises flickered and dimmed as her powers pulled back, leaving her looking more broken than you’d ever seen her. The weight of what you’d just witnessed crushed your chest—it felt too real, too vivid to be anything but the truth.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Wanda whispered, her voice trembling, the Sokovian accent she’d long suppressed slipping through as her emotions bled into every word. Her hands hovered near you, like she wanted to comfort you but didn’t know if she deserved to.

You blinked rapidly, trying to steady your breathing as the memory of your death burned in your mind. The ache between your shoulder blades and the tightness in your chest felt so fresh, so real, it was hard to remember you were sitting in front of Wanda, not in a hospital bed.

But there was no time to focus on yourself. You sat up straighter, your voice trembling but firm. “Wanda, this has to stop.”

She flinched like you’d slapped her. “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that, Y/N.”

“I do,” you said, meeting her gaze, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I’m dead, Wanda. I died. And nothing you do can change that.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” she insisted, her voice rising, more desperate now. “I fixed it. I brought you back—I brought all of you back. Billy, Tommy, Vision—they’re here, Y/N. We can all be together, like it was supposed to be.”

“Wanda,” you said sharply, cutting her off. “This isn’t real. You didn’t fix anything. You’re just… avoiding it.”

“No!” she cried, her voice cracking. “I gave us a second chance. Isn’t that what you’d want? To see Logan again? To see the boys smiling and safe? Don’t you want this?”

Your heart twisted at the anguish in her words, but you couldn’t let it sway you. “Of course I want that. Of course I want to be with Logan, with all of you. But not like this. Not if it’s a lie.”

She stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breathing grew uneven. “Why does it matter if it’s a lie?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “It feels real, doesn’t it? It’s real enough.”

“It matters because it’s hurting you, Wanda,” you said, your voice softening. “And it’s hurting everyone else, too. Logan knows, doesn’t he? And Erik? They’re just as trapped as you are.”

Her lips trembled, and she looked away, unable to meet your eyes. “They don’t understand,” she muttered. “They think they do, but they don’t. Erik has lost people before. Logan… he’s lost you more times than I can count. But it’s different when it’s your children, Y/N. You don’t know what that’s like.”

You hesitated, the weight of her grief pressing down on you. “No,” you admitted quietly. “I don’t. But I know what it’s like to love someone so much it hurts. And I know that love means letting go sometimes, even when it’s the hardest thing in the world.”

Her shoulders shook, and she hugged herself, as though trying to keep from falling apart. “I can’t let go,” she said, her voice so small it was almost swallowed by the silence. “I can’t lose you again. Or them. Or Vision. I can’t.”

“Wanda,” you said, your voice firm but kind. “You already lost us. I’m gone. Vision’s gone. Billy and Tommy… they were never real to begin with.” You reached out, touching her arm gently. “This isn’t peace. This is a prison you built for yourself.”

Her tears fell freely now, and she covered her face with her hands, her sobs shaking her whole body. You stood, closing the distance between you and pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, but then she crumpled against you, clutching your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured, stroking her hair gently. “But it’s time to let go. It’s time to set things right.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression conflicted. “But if I let go… you’ll be gone.”

You smiled sadly, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’ll always be with you, Wanda. But you have to let me go. You have to let all of us go.”

Her lip quivered, and she nodded slowly, though it looked like it physically hurt her. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she admitted.

“You can,” you said firmly. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Wanda closed her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened them, they glowed red again, her powers swirling to life around her. The walls of the room seemed to shift and crack, and the sound of children laughing echoed faintly before fading away.

“I love you, Y/N,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes.

“I love you too,” you replied, squeezing her hand one last time before the world dissolved into light.

---

Logan walked to the library, his heavy boots echoing in the quiet hallways of the mansion. His hands were shoved deep in his jacket pockets, fists clenched tight. He could feel the tension in the air—a crackling weight that made his skin itch. It wasn’t just Wanda’s doing; it was him, too. He couldn’t sit back anymore. Not when he knew what was at stake.

Halfway there, Erik stepped into the hallway, his broad frame blocking Logan’s path. His expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp in his gaze.

“Outta the way, Erik,” Logan growled, his voice low and steady.

“You can’t confront her now,” Erik said, his tone just as calm, but there was a warning there. “It’s too fragile. If you push her too hard, this entire illusion could collapse violently. Do you want to hurt her more than she’s already hurting?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he stepped closer. “This illusion is hurtin’ her. Hurtin’ all of us. She’s gotta let it go. You know that as well as I do.”

Erik didn’t move. “And if she can’t? If you force her hand and she snaps? This isn’t just about you or me or even her. Think about the others—Billy, Tommy, Vision. They’re as real to her as the air she breathes.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “Don’t think I don’t know that. But I lost her once. Hell, I’ve lost her more times than I can count. I ain’t gonna lose her to some damn fantasy.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping. “She created this because she lost too. She’s clinging to what little she has left. Are you really ready to take it all away?”

Before Logan could respond, the walls around them began to tremble. The faint sound of children laughing echoed through the hallway, followed by a low hum of static. Logan’s sharp eyes flicked around, taking in the cracks spreading along the edges of the illusion.

“Looks like it ain’t up to me anymore,” Logan muttered, his voice grim. He pushed past Erik, who didn’t stop him this time.

As Logan stormed toward the library, the tremors grew stronger. The pristine walls of the mansion shimmered, flickering between their familiar design and something darker, rawer. By the time Logan reached the library doors, he could hear crying and hushed reassurances.

He opened the door to find you and Wanda kneeling on the ground, the former holding onto you tightly as her hands glowed red.

You looked over at Logan as the world around you shimmered red and mouthed “I love you” right before everything went white.

As the shining light faded away, the mansion reappeared around them, quiet and still. Wanda knelt on the floor, her arms outstretched toward the air where you had been moments before. Her hands fell limply through the space, trembling as she stared at the emptiness in front of her. The tears on her cheeks glistened faintly in the flickering light.

Logan stepped into the room, his heavy boots echoing against the hardwood floor. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes dark with fury and heartbreak as he took in the sight of Wanda. She was a shadow of herself—broken, sobbing, and clutching at nothing.

“Wanda,” Logan growled, his voice low and menacing.

She flinched at the sound, her red-glowing eyes darting up to meet his. Her lips trembled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them in three long strides, his hands grabbing Wanda by the arms and yanking her to her feet. He slammed her back against the nearest bookshelf, the impact shaking loose a few books that thudded to the ground. His claws extended with a sharp snikt, the shining adamantium glinting dangerously as he pressed them to her throat.

“Why?” he snarled, his voice rough and ragged. “Why’d you bring her back, just to tear her away from me again?”

Wanda gasped, her hands coming up instinctively to grip his wrists. “Logan,” she choked out, her voice strained. “I—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting her off. His claws twitched, close enough to graze her skin. “You don’t get to explain it away. You don’t get to justify this. You knew what you were doin’, and you did it anyway.” His voice cracked, the raw pain bleeding through. “You brought her back, Wanda. I saw her. I held her. And now she’s gone again.”

Tears streamed down Wanda’s face as she shook her head frantically. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “I just—I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what?” Logan barked, his voice rising. “Let go? Face the truth? You think you’re the only one who’s lost her? I’ve been losin’ her for centuries, Wanda. Over and over again. And every goddamn time, it breaks me. But this—” He gestured around the room with his free hand, his claws still hovering at her neck. “This was worse than any of it. This was cruel.”

Wanda sobbed openly now, her body trembling against the bookshelf. “I just wanted to fix it,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted us all to have a second chance—Billy, Tommy, Vision… you. I thought if I could bring her back, you’d be happy again. I thought it would make everything right.”

Logan let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and cutting. “Happy? You think this made me happy? Watchin’ her slip away again? Watchin’ her know what was happenin’ and still tryin’ to make you feel better?” His claws retracted suddenly with a metallic hiss, and he stepped back, releasing her roughly.

Wanda sagged against the bookshelf, her hands clutching at her chest as though trying to hold herself together. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it would fall apart.”

“You didn’t think,” Logan spat. “You didn’t care. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, you didn’t stop to think about what it’d do to the rest of us. Erik told me not to push you. Said you’d snap if I did. But guess what, Wanda? You already snapped. And you dragged us all down with you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desperation. “I just wanted her back,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I wanted all of you back.”

Logan’s face softened slightly, the anger giving way to the raw ache beneath. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he tried to steady himself. “I get it,” he said quietly. “More than you know. But what you did—it ain’t right, Wanda. It ain’t real. And it ain’t fair to her or any of us.”

Wanda nodded slowly, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’ll fix it,” she said shakily. “I’ll make it right.”

“You better,” Logan said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned on his heel, heading for the door. But before he left, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “One more thing,” he added. “Don’t ever use her like that again. Not for your pain. Not for anything.��

And then he was gone, the echo of his footsteps fading into the silence.

Wanda sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as she sobbed. She had thought she was giving everyone a gift, but now she saw it for what it was—a prison of her own making, one that had only brought more pain.

In the distance, Logan stalked down the hallway, his mind swirling with the memory of your voice, your touch, your final words. I love you.

He clenched his fists, his claws threatening to break through again as he let out a low growl. Wanda might fix the mess she’d made, but nothing would erase the weight of losing you again. Not this time. Not ever.

first, i just wanna say thank you to dr. mike for teaching me that when someone goes into cardiac arrest you should immediately start chest compressions, chest compressions, chest compressions! (iykyk)

also, i know this is not an accurate representation of the 'house of m' storyline, but it's somewhat close? right? anyways, i think the next one of these is gonna be the logan movie, so buckle up!

[snoopychris]

mermaid!reader and coastal grandson!chris' first meeting...

for as long as he could remember, chris and his brothers visited his grandparents at the beach every year. they always stayed for at least 3 weeks, and they never stayed for more than a month and a half. he wishes he could stay all year. he was always more attached to his grandmother than he was to his parents. it was an unusual connection simply due to the old lady being the exact opposite of chris. chris was quiet but confident. his grandmother, lisa, was loud but scared.

he was always more attached to the beach house than his brothers were. he looked forward to the trip every year. even after his accident he could never wait to go to the beach. the florida keys were home to him. more home to him than boston could ever be. matt and nick ridiculed him for it sometimes, but he truly didn’t care. he waited patiently. every single day. 

from a very young age, chris knew. he knew from the first time he visited the age and could comprehend what was going on around him that he’d be a marine biologist. when they were 14, matt nick and chris found a nest of sea turtles. chris refused to leave until they were all safe. his brothers didn’t speak to him for a week because of how long it took.

this trip to the florida keys was different. it was the first trip to the place without their grandfather. and this time chris would get to stay. his transfer to the college of the florida keys had finally gone through and he actually got to stay with his grandmother until he finished school. the only downside was that his brothers had to stay with him during his first semester while he settled in. 

his first week back was just… fine. in reality it was no different than what he usually experienced in the keys, but this time had such a unique feeling to it. he didn’t even know how to begin to describe it. he had been home a lot more than he usually was. by this time in a normal trip he’d have been to the beach at least 5 or 6 times. part of chris thinks it’s just cause he has so much more time here this time around. 

sitting in the room he was working on making his, completely, truly, utterly his, chris was pulled out of his thoughts when matt gently knocked on his door with two knuckles. “grandma gave me the keys to the bronco. nick and i are goin to the beach. y’comin?” matt asks, eyeing his younger brother up and down. matt knew that chris would be ready in less than 3 minutes after asking, but he also knew that after his accident he wouldn’t ever get into the ocean again. for some unknown reason, chris swallows slightly at the question. he had never been nervous about going to the beach. what was going on with him? 

“yeah just lemme change… i’ll meet you outside.” chris replies, bolting towards his closet. he grabs a pair of lululemon swim trunks his mom had gotten him and slips them on, throwing on a random tank top to match. he grabs his pre-prepped beach bag and makes his way outside, both of his brothers already waiting for him by their grandfathers beloved car. chris tosses his bag into the trunk and slides into the passenger seat, gripping onto the window sill. “which beach?” chris questions. the answer didn’t really matter to him. he wasn’t going swimming anyway.

“i… actually don’t know. i was just gonna drive.” matt replies, moving the car out of the long driveway and onto the road. chris shrugs in response and begins picking at his nails, his hair flying all over due to the wind. “y’goin swimming today?” matt mumbles even though he already knows the answer. he and nick both frown when chris shakes his head. they had worried about him for years. every time they thought it was getting better it somehow got worse. at least that’s what they gathered from the vague notes from chris’ psychiatry sessions. 

the drive to the beach was longer than chris expected. the drove something around 30 minutes, only crazy because they were surrounded by sand and water. chris could settle in with a good book anywhere on the soft beige substance. whatever, he thought. upon parking, matt and nick sprinted towards the sparkling blue water. chris settled down next to the bags his brothers had tossed under a random beach umbrella. he lays back, tucking his arms under his head. he takes nicks towel and throws it over his face in order to block out the sun just a little bit more.

he’s never felt more at peace, even with the weird feeling in his gut. it only lasts a few minutes before he hears screaming coming from his left. the towel flies off of his eyes and he looks for the source of the disturbance, and instead of seeing his brothers doing something stupid the way he expected, he sees one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever laid eyes on. butterflies. this entire time he’s been feeling butterflies. his feet carry him over before he can even process what’s happening.

chris grunts when your hand meets his chest, accidentally pushing him down to the sand. “no, stop it’s a sea turtle nest. they’re hatching. don’t touch them.” you speak sternly, meeting eyes with him shortly after. chris quickly stands up and nods, looking around for a big leaf or something big enough to help the small creatures. you’re in a state of shock when you process what he’s doing. you hadn’t realized that you weren’t the only person on the beach that knew how to help the turtles. you send him a small smile and grab one of the leaves he found, guarding the animals as much as you could. if matt and nick weren’t swimming they’d give him the silent treatment again, but he lucked out this time. 

chris glances up at you, noticing the way some of your hair sticks to your face despite the sea shell clips you have holding it back. “i’m chris.” he whispers, continuing the slow walk to the water. you look up at him and nod, licking your lips before speaking. “pearl.” you reply, smiling when the turtles make their way into the water. there’s a lot of small talk that comes naturally to chris on the journey. in the short time he learns that you’re from miami, that your dad owns a restaurant, and that your grandfather on your moms side was an olympic swimmer. 

it doesn’t go unnoticed by chris that you stay far enough from the shoreline that your feet never even touch the wet sand. the moment that chris was cherishing ends quicker than he’d like when nick emerges from the water, standing next to his brother. nick sends you a sweet smile that makes you giggle. there was two of them? when matt exits the water and stands next to you, you panic a little. not because there was now three of them, but he was dripping. you scoot away from him subtly, another action that doesn’t go unnoticed by chris. “chris who’s your friend?” matt asks, his voice laced with flirtatious intent. 

you smile over at the boy besides you, inching away from him again. the second a drop of water falls on you, there’s exactly 30 seconds for you to absolutely book it. you swallow anxiously as you eye the boy beside you, looking up to meet chris’ eyes. the same eyes that match the ocean. “i’ll see you soon, yeah?” you whisper, scrunching your face. chris sends you a nod, and as you begin to walk away you feel drops of water on your wrist. shit. 30…29…

“hey, maybe even i’ll see you again soon?” matt asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 26…25… you gulp but nod rapidly, searching around for some form of out. a big rock within running distance and an out to the ocean. 23… 22… you finally spot one and book it, finding relief when it looks like a maze of rocks. 12… 11… to an outsider, youre probably just a good hider or something. at least you hope. before you know it, your body is fully submerged in the water. the pastel yet fluorescent tail replaces your legs, and the matching top replaces the crop top you were previously wearing. you sigh to yourself but stay in place. nobody’s around anyway. 

when chris spots your seashell clip on the floor, he just knows he’s going to use it as an excuse to chase after you before matt does. he grips onto it swiftly and runs in the direction you just headed in, being met with nothing but confusion when you’re suddenly gone. you heard him running towards you just a few seconds ago and tucked behind one of the big rocks, hoping you were hidden enough. chris sighs as he throws the barrette on the ground, regretfully picking it up after a few seconds. you take the opportunity to duck under the water and swim away, scrunching your face in worry when your tail splashes louder than intended. chris looks up to find the source of the splash, seeing only the tip of your fins. dolphins? no. not this close to shore. he’s so intrigued that he’s just about to follow behind, daring so much as to swim. nick clearing his throat brings him back to reality, and he turns to his brothers. “what’d you see, kid?” nick asks, intrigued in his youngest brothers sudden interest in swimming. chris shrugs as he steps out of the few inches of water he was in, still gripping onto your hair accessory.

“you guys believe in mermaids?” chris mumbles, knowing the teasing about to ensue. matt laughs and shakes his head, patting his brothers back. “mermaids? you’re full of jokes, bud.”

a/n: i finally finally have my puter back! i hope you guys enjoy this au as much as i do. mermaids have always been something im drawn to. kiss kiss! -gen

dividers by @13hoax!!!

tags(reply or message to be added): @throatgoat4u @sturns-mermaid @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @cockettechris

[chaoticwriting]

THE FATHER 2

Part 1

After the last incident, Danny totally expects the public to be afraid of him or even persecute him for killing the Joker. He did kill in front of a live stream after all. What he doesn't expect is the public giving their full support to him. Almost every single news media paints him in a good light, saying he is just protecting his children and bringing up all his previous charity.

However, there is one big problem Danny doesn't foresee. Danny doesn't even know about the problem because his children are the one that are suffering from it.

-Gotham Academy-

Emma: *Slamming her phone on the table* For the love of god, stop making thirst trap of my dad. He is too old for some of you (He is 20).

Becky: I know right. This is like the sixth thirst trap video that I see of dad.

Carl: I hate this so much. My crush just accepted my confession but on the condition I will introduce her to dad.

Larry: And you agree?

Carl: What? No! Of course not.

Emma: Ugghhh, this is the worst. Maybe we should ask Uncle Tucker to remove all of Dad's thirst trap online. I'm so done with this.

Larry: I don't know. This is the first time girls decide to talk to me voluntarily. I really am enjoying this attention.

Carl: You're happy now until one of the girls decides to confess to you and just as you thought because she likes you, it is because she has a crush on dad.

Larry: I know you just experienced it but you don't need to curse me like that.

Carl: Hmph.

Larry: Hey, has anyone seen Colin? I haven't seen him since last night.

Becky: *Whispersing* Don't you hear? Colin got shot after he went to patrol the night before yesterday. Dad grounds him cause he tries to sneak out injured last night.

Carl: Oof. Colin really doesn't learn does he? Dad has super sense. He literally can't sneak out.

Larry: Yeah. I don't even know why he wants to be a vigilante so much. I guess he is just kind of something. Couldn't be me to be honest.

Emma: Of course he is not like you. You are not even capable of waking up by yourself in the morning.

*Riiiinngggg*

Becky: Well that is our break then. Let's go to class.

Larry: Eh, it's not like Miss Brown gonna scold me if I am a little late anyway. She has been trying to get Dad's number from me for a while now.

Carl: Does dad even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Hell, a partner? I never saw him gone on a date once so far.

Emma: Chances are probably super low. Like to say he is dense is an understatement. A woman tried to flirt with him once but he just replied to all the flirting with the straightest face possible.

The rest: *Giggles*

-Gotham Libraries-

Contrary to what his kids have been believing in, he actually knows when someone is flirting with him. It's just that he takes note from the dense anime protagonist and uses it in daily life whenever he is not interested in a person flirting with him. Which is like daily.

But here is the problem. He can respond to a flirt very easily. He learns a lot of that from when he was dating Sam. But he never actually flirts with someone first. And he isn't sure just how to approach the problem.

Having decided that he has stayed long enough, Danny picks a random book from the space section and brings it to the checkout table.

Danny: Hey Barbara.

Barbara: Hey Danny. Borrowing another book?

Danny: Yeah. I just finished the previous one last night. It is a good book. Thanks for the recommendation.

Barbara: You're welcome. How's the kids doing? Still causing trouble for you?

Danny: It's the same shenanigans everyday. Going to lectures, doing paperwork, taking care of the kids. What about you?

Barbara: It's the same with me. Barely any people come to the library these days. Usually it's only either you or my friends.

Danny: Oh. Errmm, Barbara.

Barbara: Yes?

Danny: Would you be free this weekend?

Barbara: Are you asking me on a date?

Danny: Depends. If it is, what would you say?

Barbara: Hmmm, let me think.

Danny fidgets as Barbara taps her finger on the counter. Barbara loves to tease Danny since he is so cute when he is nervous.

Barbara: I think I am free this weekend. So I am available for a date.

Danny's face beams a smile as he hears that.

Danny: So is that a yes?

Barbara: What do you think, big guy?

Danny: Then I will come pick you up at your apartment then?

Barbara: Come pick me up at my dad's house. I will be ready at 5.

Danny: Okay. Have a good day.

Barbara: You too.

Danny then walks out of the library, skipping a little. He has been gathering courage to ask Barbara out on a date for a long time now. They first met when Danny first borrowed a book from a library. It's nothing crazy. Just interaction between two people. But after meeting up a few more times, Danny realizes that he might have a crush on her. After getting convinced by Tucker and Sam, Danny decided that today is the day he asks her out. And he succeeded.

Now, it is just to make sure that the date goes well.

-Clocktower-

Batman: That's it for tonight. Everyone returns back to the cave.

Black Bat/Spoiler/Red Robin: Roger.

Oracle: Hey, B. Can I have a day off this weekend?

Batman: Why?

Oracle: I have a date that night.

Spoiler: You are dating someone?

Oracle: It's not official yet. He only just asks me out on a date this morning.

Batman: Yes. Keep your comms up. In case a breakout happens your way.

Oracle: Okay.

Red Robin: Who are you going on a date with?

Oracle: Danny.

Spoiler: As in that Danny?

Oracle: Yes.

Spoiler: Oh wow! You work fast. How do you know him?

Oracle: He always comes to the library to borrow books. I met him long before he became famous so it is not so hard to talk with him.

Black Bat: Is he nice?

Oracle: He is very nice. It's very hard to even make him mad. The only time I remember him being in a slightly bad mood is at Christmas. He doesn't like it apparently. Wait, Hood is entering the line.

Red Hood: Oracle, you betray me!

Oracle: Tough luck loser. How do you know anyway?

Red Robin: I told him just now.

Red Hood: Yeah! You dare ask him out on a date first before me? I will remember this.

Oracle: He is the one that actually asks me out. We are going on an official date this weekend. I'll take a very nice picture of us together so that you can see from afar.

Red Hood: But your status still isn't official yet. I still have a chance.

Oracle: Over my dead body.

Red Hood: Oh, I will.

Spoiler: Errr, guys. What is happening?

Red Robin: They have a bet on who will get to date Danny first. Apparently Hood gets a massive crush on this guy after what happens in the livestream. Oracle gets the news and they quarrel a little bit. After that I propose a competition between the two.

Spoiler: But both of you don't know that Oracle is already close with Danny. Girl, that's dirty.

Oracle: All is fair in love and war.

Batman: What is his background?

Red Robin: As far as I can see, he is pretty clean. There is even what I suspect some vigilante works that he might have done because he is related to the disbandment of GIW that were supported by both his parents and his godfather. But after some digging into the old GIW files, there are traces of Danny and his friends helping the local ghost hero fighting either other ghosts or the agents themselves. There was also the unexplained money that he suddenly had early on in his career as CEO but so far, it doesn't seem like anything bad.

Robin: Hmmm.

Red Robin: What is it brat?

Robin: I feel like his face is very familiar.

Batman: Explain.

Robin: I need to confirm this with mother. But I am fairly certain that his ancestors have connections with the Al Ghul.

Red Robin: As in blood related?

Robin: No. But there is a book that mother finds about a man who has a very similar appearance to him. The book tells the tale of a kind immortal who spends his lives helping others while learning stuff from them.

Spoiler: A cult of assassins teach young children to be kind?

Robin: Shut it, Brown. I am not finished. The part of the story that interests me is the tale called The Beheader of Demon.

Spoiler: I take it back. That sounds like something a cult of assassins will teach young children.

Robin: The tale tells a story of the immortal meeting a demon who kills people just to find immortality. When the demon finds out that the immortal is well, immortal, he pursues the immortal, trying to kill him and forces the immortal to give away his immortality to him.

Red Robin: What happened next?

Robin: The Demon's head is severed and the Demon's subordinates run away bringing the Demon's body to the pool of revival.

Spoiler: So is this a true story?

Robin: Mother confirms it is a true story. I do not know whether he is a true immortal or not. However, I do know that his ancestors or maybe even him, is good enough to beat grandfather even if he has backup.

Red Hood: What about the other tales?

Robin: There is nothing of note. Some mention of the immortal's supernatural ability, like summoning the dead or the ability to move mountains and divert rivers.

Red Robin: That is not something to take note of?

Robin: No. Because in those stories, the only consistent thing about him is that he is kind. Never harm someone unless provoked.

Batman: Compile all the tales into a file. Red Robin, lists out all the possible powers of target.

Oracle: Oh wow. My date is now a target. How could this get better?

Red Hood: If he is really dangerous, I volunteer to stalk monitor them while they are on the date.

Oracle & Batman: No!

Red Hood: Tsk! Party pooper.

Batman: Red Robin and Spoiler, follow them. Priority is keeping Oracle safe.

Red Robin & Spoiler: *High five* Let's go.

Oracle: Ugghhh, you all better don't mess with my date. Or else I'll make sure you regret it.

[enhaeil]

PAINT THIS HOUSE ! ☆ 박종성

"and I want these stairs, those walls, kitchen counters, and those chairs to remind you of how good it feels. and all of these floors and ceilings and every hallway, yeah. not and inch will go untouched... let's paint this house with our love.."

paint this house - brandy

c/w: suggestive, fluff, husband!jay per usual

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

you set down the last box from the moving truck, jay following behind you with another one.

"i can't believe we finally own our own home. i never would've thought..." you say breathing in the scent of fresh paint and cardboard.

"i wouldn't have chosen to do this with anyone else." he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then one on your lips. the kiss is slow and passionate, and leaves you longing for more... but you know there's work to be done, so you pull away.

"we have plenty of time to play around in our home. right now, we should focus on unpacking and decorating," you rub his arms, which had gotten buffer over the years and walk over to a box.

by the time you and jay finish unpacking, the sun sets, and before you know it, it's night.

"it looks amazing here. like home. like us."

you walk over to the pictures hanging on the wall. ones from your wedding, your honeymoon, and even your first date with jay. next to them were baby pictures of the both of you, and hopefully, soon, there would be pictures of your own child.

he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

"i swear you've gotten even more beautiful since our first date." he says, spinning you around to face him.

"impossible. i look a mess right now." you say eyeing the dried paint on your shirt and your sweat-ed out hair.

"a very sexy, attractive mess. one that i'm glad I married."

you can't help but stand on your tippy-toes and press a kiss onto your husband's lips.

the kiss quickly becomes serious, breaths and quiet moans falling in between the two of you.

what was just a kiss, quickly escalated into something more, a night full of intimate lovemaking.

the two of you blessed every part of your new home, painting every surface from the counter to the hallway, with the love you two shared.

you ended the night bare in his arms, dozing off knowing you'd repeat the same process in the morning.

[deprivedreality]

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗖𝗖𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜 𝗕𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗚𝗢?!

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠...?

Word Count: 560

Content: Fluff. Mutual Pining. 3rd year Katsuki Bakugo x gn.reader in support course.

The afternoon sun was glaring over UA’s training grounds, the warmth seeping into Katsuki Bakugo’s skin as he finished his cooldown stretches. His muscles ached in a way that felt satisfying—proof of a training session well spent. He rolled his shoulders and glanced toward the entrance of the training ground, his sharp eyes catching sight of someone he didn’t expect.

You.

You were standing a few feet away, fidgeting with a big box in your hands, your usual confident demeanor replaced by nervous energy. He scowled, not out of irritation, but because his chest felt weirdly tight every time you were around. You were a second-year in the support course—brilliant, sharp, and, in his mind, annoyingly distracting.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, voice gruff as always.

You looked up, startled, and quickly adjusted your grip on the box. “Oh! I—I came to drop off the gauntlet you asked for last week.”

Bakugo frowned. “I didn’t ask you for shit. Hatsume was—” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing something. “Wait, you did the adjustments?"

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. I thought you’d want them done faster, so I, uh… volunteered.”

There was something off about your tone, something hesitant that made him squint at you suspiciously. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not!” you blurted, your voice higher than usual.

His brows furrowed deeper. “Tch, whatever. Just give me the damn thing.”

You stepped closer, holding out his gears, but your hands were trembling slightly. He noticed, of course. He always noticed when it came to you. And before he could stop himself, he said, “Oi, are you nervous or something? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not nervous!” you insisted, but then, without warning, the words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide. “Okay, maybe I am, but it’s because I like you. Geez—”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bakugo froze, the words hitting him like one of his own explosions. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, wide with disbelief. “What?"

You blinked, your own face going pale as the weight of what you just said crashed over you. “Ah! Wait. I mean—”

“What did you just say?” he demanded, stepping closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. “Nothing! I said nothing!”

“Bullshit,” Bakugo growled, his voice lower now. “You said you like me. As in, like, like me?”

Your face flushed scarlet. “I… I didn’t mean to say that! Forget I said anything!”

Before he could say another word, you shoved the box into his hands and bolted, sprinting toward the workshop like your life depended on it.

Bakugo stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the neatly done gauntlets in his hands. You liked him. You, the same person he’d been watching from afar for months. The person he’d subtly helped out—gruffly, of course, but helped nonetheless. The person who had a laugh that made his chest feel too tight and a smile that stuck in his mind longer than he cared to admit.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, a rare, uncharacteristic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You actually like me. Holy shit.”

For the first time in a long time, Katsuki Bakugo found himself excited to chase something—someone.

And this time, he wasn’t planning to let them run too far.

Part two right here

a/n: i have part two in my drafts

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2024 | all rights reserved.

[yelenasdiary]

Hi 👋🏾 I just sent a request in not too long ago but I forgot to specify that it's a Fem!Reader it was this one :

something where everyone thinks R is treating wanda poorly bc they're polar opposites (R is kinda a brick wall + wanda isn't all perky but she's just nice and more open) and wanda hasn't come around since they've been together but in reality wanda is just so happy that she's forgotten about everyone ?

Consumed By You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader, Avengers x Fem! Reader

Summary: Wanda’s family think you don’t treat Wanda right…

Angst with Happy ending. 

Warnings: Hints of an abusive relationship? | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this. I personally don’t like how somebody can just drop or ‘forget’ about their friends/family just because they’re dating somebody so this is a little angst and Wanda kinda gets a reality check. I hope you enjoy! 

It had been months since the compound was filled with the warm smell of freshly baked muffins that Wanda would often bake for the team. At first, it was understandable. She found somebody she really liked and wanted to spend more time with them. But as days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, Wanda’s family couldn’t let the thought that her absence was against her will. 

Natasha was the one to bring the issue to Wanda’s attention, sending her a flurry of frantic texts, trying not to scare the woman away. 

“They miss me” Wanda said, her voice soft as she looked up at her phone. Sitting on the sofa beside you, her head resting against your shoulder as you were reading a new book you had recently picked up. 

“You should go see them” you replied. Wanda sighed, remembering the last time she saw them. “I don’t know, I don’t think I want to hear about how the world is in danger yet again”

You finished reading the paragraph you were on before closing your book and gently placing a hand on her knee, “I think you should see them, baby” you said softly.

“I guess I could pop in for an hour tomorrow” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

You could hear the doubt in her voice, “how about I come with you” you suggested, “I mean, if you want” you added.

Wanda’s face lit up as she lifted her head to look at you, “Really? You want to come?”

“Yeah” you smiled softly, meeting her gaze, “this if your family” 

Wanda smiled before placing a soft kiss on your lips and texting Nat the news. 

The next day, you and Wanda arrived at the compound around midday. Her family greeted her with smiles and hugs, happy to finally see her after so long. You greeted the Avengers politely, even though you noticed the surprised looks from Steve and the deep glaring gaze from Natasha, you tried to ignore it for Wanda’s sake but deep down, you didn’t feel very welcomed. 

Later, after conversations of catching up over pizza and Tony’s questionable cocktails, you watched Wanda from afar as she reconnected with those she called family. “So, Wanda tells me you’re quite the artist” Pepper smiled, taking a seat beside you, taking your attention away from Wanda. 

You chuckled lightly, “well, I wouldn’t say that. I like to make things sometimes” you turned to her. 

What you didn’t see was Wanda being whisked away by Nat, Clint and Steve. While you and Pepper spoke about your crafts and love for art, Wanda was confused by the three’s confusing words.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked sternly with a hint of worry in her voice. Wanda frowned with confusion, “yes, I’m fine” 

“Are you sure? Because you don’t have to leave with her today. We’ll keep you safe” Steve inserted, making Wanda even more confused as her eyes shifted to him. “What are you guys talking about? I’m fine?” She replied. 

“Wands, this is the first time in months we’ve seen you. You don’t come around anymore….we barely hear from you and when we do, its short and sweet” Natasha explained. 

“We’re just worried that Y/n is…well, keeping you from seeing others” Clint added. 

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous assumptions. “Y/n isn’t keeping me from seeing anybody, you can’t be serious right now” 

“We’re serious Wanda” Natasha replied, again in a stern tone. Her tone making Wanda look between the three Avengers, seeing they weren’t in the slightest joking. “Guys” she started, “Y/n is nothing but loving and supportive of me” she continues. 

“We see how she treats you and little she seems to engage. It feels a little…dismissive” Steve confessed.

Wanda’s heart clenched. “She isn’t dismissive” she defended, “it’s just she’s a little quieter than others. She’s not expressive like everybody else, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care”

“Maybe not to you…but from the outside” Clint trailed off. 

“You’ve barely seen her! You don’t know her” Wanda argued. 

Natasha stepped forward, not wanting the argument to get too heated. “We’re just worried. You seem distant and like you’ve completely forgotten about us. You met her and suddenly you were gone. I think you can see where we are coming from” 

Wanda sighed heavily, seeing how her relationship looked to her family. “I promise you, it’s not like what you’re thinking. I just, I’ve just been so happy that I didn’t want to come here and have that dawning feeling that it could be taken away from me” she started. “I didn’t mean for this to hurt you all” she added. 

“You deserve to be happy, Wanda. You deserve the world” Steve said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but the world isn’t Y/n” he added. 

“You can’t just cut everybody out, even if you are happy” Clint said, “we’re your family. We’re here for you, always. Even if you’re in a relationship. We want to know her, we want to be a part of your life too” he went on.

A wave of guilt washed over Wanda, she’d been so consumed in you and her feelings for you that she didn’t realize that her excuses for neglecting to enjoy life outside of her relationship was turning those closest to her. “I understand” she said, her voice sincere. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been fair, and I don’t want you all to keep this image that Y/n is a bad partner because she is so far from that. I want you guy to see how wonderful she is” 

Nat smiled softly at her friend, “then allow us that. We want to know how great she is but she can’t do that if you close us out” 

Wanda nodded softly, “I know….how about we start with a weekly dinner?” She offered. The three standing before her smiled, “sounds like a great start” Steve said. 

The talk wasn’t easy, and it left Wanda feeling a bit exposed, but she knew deep down they were right. She had a life beyond you, but she was so scared that life would take you from her. As she walked out with Nat, Clint & Steve behind her, she saw you laughing with Pepper. The image in front of her made her smile as she wandered over to you. 

“What did I miss?” Wanda asked softly, taking a seat beside you. 

“Y/n was just telling me a story about the two you” Pepper smiled softly, 

“Yeah, remember that time you made me try some of those ridiculous TikTok filters?” You looked to your partner, giving her a soft smile. Wanda nodded, the memory flashing through her mind, “wait until I show the others the screenshots” she chuckles. 

“Don’t you dare!” Your eyes widen. Something about her presence felt different but you didn’t want to question it. Wanda teased, pulling out her phone as she broke into a laughter you haven’t heard in a very long time. 

“Oh, come on baby, the world show see these!” She laughed. “Please, it’s the last thing the world needs!” You laughed along with her.

Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow | @jsonebraincell | @boredandneedfanfics | @red1culous | @jooseboxxe | @starrycherie | @torihobby1226 | @filmedbyharkness | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.