#i had a STROKE OF GENIUS with this ask

[vaya-writes]

Serving the Serpent - 5

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her. 

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 2500 words. Content warnings for this chapter: references to the cult-like elements of Briar's upbringing. Divider from firefly-graphics

Briar participates in Discourse for the first time.

Previous - Masterlist

The following afternoon, Briar is starting to regret her carefree comment. Learning to read is one thing. Staying seated in Lockwood’s office, trying her best not to hunch over the table, fingers pressed a little too tightly around a piece of chalk, is another. Because learning to read, means learning to write. And learning to write means the dark elf taking the time out of his day to point out letters and pronounce them.  

He’s patient. She’ll give him that. Pointing to each letter before and after she copies it, fingers cramping. He pronounces each sound slowly, then regularly. Gives an example word that the sound is in. Watches for Briar to nod her understanding.  

His face is nearly as blank as the slate she writes on. The only time irritation had flickered across his features was when he pronounced the first letter. He’d waited a beat, before she realised she was expected to copy the sound. She’d opened her mouth. Hesitated. And dropped her eyes in shame when nothing more than a stuttered breath came out.  

To Lockwood’s credit, he’d recovered quickly. Had adjusted the cadence of his lesson, and nothing else, no longer pausing for her to speak. Just waiting for her shows of attention and occasional nods. No further frustration shows on his features. But it doesn’t stop Briar from feeling intimidated. 

That night she lies awake in bed. It’s only when the room is silent, when she’s certain that everyone is either asleep or about to be when she’s able to vocalise. Fragments of sound, not complete words, as she tries her best to remember how Lockwood had spoken, and mimic each phonic. 

Somebody nearby stirs and she’s startled back into silence. She pulls her pillow over her head and sighs. Perhaps she could find some other time alone to practice. Or perhaps just mouthing the sounds would be enough.   

Despite the disadvantage, Briar wakes determined to see the day through, and learn as much as she can during her next lesson. She picks up breakfast on the way to the third floor, where she meets Emilie and assists her with the usual cleaning. The lizard chats as she works, going from room to room to strip the beds and clean the private bathrooms.  

She’s tense in anticipation of entering the lord’s chambers, but finds them empty. Arol’s too. She doesn’t think much of it until lunch time, when she parts ways with Emilie to meet with Cook. Isen and Arol’s meals are absent from the trolley. Part of her regards the change with curiosity.  

“Lockwood stopped by. He said you’re to skip your lesson with Lord Isen today, and to meet in his office early. I’ll have your lunch delivered there.” 

Briar blinks. Tilts her head to inquire why, but Cook misses the gesture as he turns back to work. Once he’s out of earshot, Briar lets the huff escape from her chest. Carries on with the rest of her duties, delivering the noble’s meals. 

Dinah is busy as per usual, buried in paper and parchment, sorting with deadly speed and precision. Her eyes flick up as Briar enters, and she inclines her chin a little as the woman places her tray on the desk corner.  

Briar finds herself faltering as she stops outside the newly occupied offices. She’d been avoiding the newcomers to the castle like the plague. The coral pink naga has a way of leering at her that makes her uncomfortable. And the scaled woman – Briar's not yet sure what she is – has an unwavering gaze; sharp and deadly. It raises the hair on the back of her neck, and has her struggling not to turn tail.  

When her job is done she waves down Emilie, fortunate enough to catch her as she returns from a break. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Briar shakes her head. Points to herself and then towards the stairs. She usually collects the floor’s dishes after her meal with Isen, but wouldn’t have the chance today. 

“You need to go?” 

Briar nods. Then points to her trolley. 

Emilie raises her scaled brows. “You want me to clean up after lunch?” 

She nods. ‘Please.’ 

Emilie hums and hars for a moment, before relaxing with a smile. “I guess I can do that. But you’ll owe me.”  

Briar gives a relieved smile. ‘Thank you so much.’ She even curtsies on the spot to show her gratitude, exaggerated and low. 

Her work taken care of, Briar hurries off to her next stop. 

When she arrives in the dimly lit office, Lockwood isn’t alone. She stiffens immediately in the doorway, eyeing Lord Isen and a lizard newcomer with apprehension.  

Isen smiles at her, gesturing for her to enter. “You’re right on time. We can start as soon as you’ve eaten.” 

Briar tries not to clip her motions, but she can’t help but be unnerved by the additional pair of eyes. ‘Start what, my lord?’ 

Isen gestures to the stranger. “This is Berron. He’s one of my translators. He’s going to teach us to sign your letters.” 

Briar didn’t realise it was possible to go tauter, but she does. It’s been... months, since she’d spoken to anyone fluent in Sign. She thought she be lost in silence forever when Stella died. 

She tries not to gape at Berron, who in turn tries to keep his appraisal light. 

There’s a silence in the room. It seems as if Lockwood and Isen await her reaction. She supposes the breach in etiquette might be warranted this once. Hesitant, she speaks to the lizard.  

‘You speak Sign?’ 

Berron gives an apologetic smile. “Just the basics, I’m afraid. I’m more fluent in the Serpentine dialect. But I can sign the common letters. They’re what you’re learning, yes?” His Common is nearly unaccented, and he gestures a sign occasionally as he speaks.  

He’s not fluent. But hope begins to bloom in her chest. ‘Do you-’ she hesitates. ‘Do you know how to say this?’ She adds a gesture. 

He winces. “No, sorry. What is it?” 

“Her name,” says Isen, who watches the interaction closely. “We still don’t know it.” 

“Ah,” the lizard frowns. “Well, with any luck, soon you’ll be able to spell it!” 

“Or write it,” murmurs Lockwood, who pulls out the chair at his side table. “Shall we begin?” 

Isen stays for the lesson. Practices signing letters as Berron instructs, and Lockwood sounds them out for Briar. She feels a little ridiculous, having a team of three trying to teach her literacy. She reassures herself that Isen is at least having his signing lesson, learning some greetings from his translator.  

All in all, it’s a learning experience for everyone in the room. Even Lockwood appears engaged for the next two hours. Before long he’s signing and pronouncing letters at the same time, before Briar dutifully copies him and writes them down. 

The novelty fades before the week passes. Isen participates long enough to learn how to sign his letters. Once Briar has passing knowledge of the signed alphabet, Berron finishes his tutoring. And her days go back to normal.  

She cleans in the mornings. Serves third floor meals at lunch and dinner. Takes her midday meal with Isen, where he insists she teach him Sign when he’s not busy with paperwork (he’s always busy, but he makes time). Starts learning how to string letters together, and what sounds they make. Gets used to writing with chalk. Then with a pen. And rinses off at the end of the day before trudging down to the common room for a fitful sleep.  

Her nightmares persist. They’re not as frequent, but are no less harrowing. And without a full night of rest, her days are draining. She’s not sure if it’s the inconsistent schedule, or the strange array of work she’s been given, but she feels busy. Like if she were just a cleaner, or if she just served meals things would be simpler.  

She wishes she could talk to Lockwood. To ask him to assign her a permanent position already. But he’s already doing so much for her. Putting aside an hour of his time every day to sit with her while she writes, and her lips form the shapes of letters– if silently. Besides, it’s not like she would be able to make herself understood.  

Still. Objectively, her life has improved. She knows her way around. Is getting used to the minutia of things. She’s still intimidated by Isen’s circle. Pryden and Fern scare her the most, but they’re rarely at the castle. She doesn’t know what they do for Isen, but whatever it is, it’s done elsewhere. 

Whatever they report back to Isen, it keeps him busy. The next time they return, Briar finds Isen awash in paperwork. Enough so that he doesn’t have time for their lunch lessons, only brief reprieves to eat. 

‘You still haven’t replaced Amos?’ 

He frowns. “I haven’t hired a new aide yet, no.” 

‘What are you waiting for?’ 

He squints. “Pardon?” 

She rewords her query. ‘Why not?’ 

Understanding spreads across his features, and he shrugs, turning back to his food. “It’ll take time to train a replacement. Unless you think I should hire somebody not qualified?” His tone turns teasing at the end. 

Briar resists the urge to roll her eyes. Gives an impassive shrug, before continuing her meal.  

Isen leans back in his chair, watching Briar with an unusual interest. “What would you do in my place?” 

It takes her a moment to realise it’s not a rhetorical question. She pauses midbite when she does. Points at herself as if to say, ‘you’re asking me?’ 

“Sure. I want your opinion.” 

She lets her features contort this time. ‘Why?’ 

He crosses his arms. “Humour me.” 

She takes a moment to think. Spends most of it composing herself, and smoothing her expression once more. ‘What type of assistant do you want?’ 

He tilts his head. “What do I want?” 

She points towards Amos’ old room. Signs ‘assistant’.  

“What kind of aide do I want?” 

Nod. 

He shrugs. “Somebody diligent. With initiative. Thoughtful. Around when I need them. On top of things like my schedule.” 

She nearly rolls her eyes again. Restrains her sigh. ‘Then hire a cleaner. What do you want your aide to know?’ 

“Do you mean their qualifications?” 

She gives an emphatic nod. 

“Oh. Well, nothing fancy. They don’t need to be a graduate of anything, I can train them myself. But they’ll need basic literacy and numeracy skills.” 

Part of her sours at the last comment. ‘And are there any schools in the Lowlands?’ 

“Is there what where?” 

‘School. A place of learning. A place of knowledge. Place. Know,’ she gestures until Isen catches her meaning.  

“A school? Here?” He pauses for a moment, speaking as an aside, “Show me that again-” copying her gesture, before, “No. We tried once, but people didn’t show up.” 

Again, she wants to roll her eyes. This time, he does wrangle a reaction out of her, and she has to take a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. When she looks back up at him, ready to start again, he’s grinning. 

“You’re cute when you get exasperated.” 

She narrows her eyes. Emphatically picks up her now empty plate and takes it to her trolley.  

“Stop, I’m sorry. You weren’t finished speaking.” 

She puts her chair away before stopping in front of his desk. Reigns in her annoyance. Makes herself the picture of a perfect servant. 

‘I would go to the city. It’d be easier to find an aide there.’ 

Isen grins. “You remind me of Arol, you know?” 

She can’t identify his tone. Quirks her brow, lets herself get sucked in to the question.  

“Polite to a fault.” 

She blinks. Hyperaware of how he watches her reaction.  

Briar laces her hands in front of her. Bites down on her lip. She knows he’s goading her. Knows he just wants a reaction. She takes a deep breath. Is about to turn and leave before- 

‘-and you’re ignorant.’ 

He tilts his head. (When she reflects back on this encounter, she’ll be thankful beyond belief that she hadn’t taught him that word yet.) Then he waits, expectant for her to continue. 

‘Why should a parent send their child to school?’ 

He takes a moment to process, understanding he’s being questioned, before giving an apologetic wince. “I don’t follow.” 

‘Why did you go to school?’  

“To learn?” 

‘Why?’ 

He shakes his head. “Uh- it was expected?’ 

‘Why?’ 

“So I could learn to read and-” 

‘Sure. Why?’ 

“My father wanted me-” 

She cuts him off with the shake of her head. ‘Why?’ 

He crosses his arms again, defensive. “It’s what I was meant to do.” 

She pauses. Uses the hiatus to hammer in her point before signing again. ‘Why should I go to school?’ 

He’s quiet for a moment. “Did your parents want-” 

She shakes her head. 

He takes another few seconds. “It’s not expected?” 

No. Again.  

“So you can read and write?” 

‘Okay. Why?’ 

“Why what?” 

‘Why should I read and write?’ 

He frowns, like it should be obvious. “So you can get a better job. So you can get paid. To help you communicate.” 

She shakes her head at each answer. ‘Women cook. Women clean. I was meant to cook and clean. Why should I go to school?’ 

He grits his teeth, confused by the roundabout conversation. It’s the first time she’s seen him visibly frustrated. “Because I want you to be my assistant.” 

The statement is enough to halt her tirade.  

They’re both silent for a moment. Isen, biting his lip, regretting his outburst. Clearly it was something he’d meant to keep to himself. Briar, compartmentalising. Trying to process that information at record speed, wondering if it’s worth dropping her point.  

It’s not. She’s nearly finished. 

After the extended pause, she straightens. Points out the window, towards the peasants in the lowlands, to make her point. ‘Why should they go to school?’ 

Isen takes a moment. Then another. Then his shoulders slump – just barely. “You’re saying they have no reason to come to school?” 

She nods.  

“Oh.” 

He doesn’t look at her, frowning down at his plate, seeming to digest the knowledge. His thoughts have changed direction.  

Eventually he notices Briar, expectant.  

“Yes?” 

‘You want to make me your assistant?’ 

He purses his lips. It looks like he hadn’t planned to tell her for a while. “Eventually. Yes.” 

She stares him down. Lets him stew in the scrutiny until Isen is the one to drop his eyes, experiencing shame, or perhaps guilt, but not quite sure why. 

She waits until he looks at her again to sign her goodbye.  

‘I can’t count either.’ 

Next

[compacflt]

okay "normie median Biden voter ice" got me. That's funny. But also so true! It prob took him a bit to vote dem too (though I believe that Ice would have never voted for Trump). Would love to hear more thoughts on Ice and Mav's politics. Also the list of who they would have voted for if you're willing to share.

i do worry that posting my extremely in-depth headcanons about some of this stuff will have the JKR “wizard shit” effect on my writing and ruin it a little, but ask and ye shall receive

copy-pasted straight from my list of “unhinged compacflt!top gun headcanons” that ive been keeping since september: on ice & mav's politics

16. Since their friendship began, Ice has always told Maverick who to vote for, since Maverick doesn't care enough to pay attention to national politics. They are begrudging ConservaDems (conservative political views, would vote conservative every election if Republicans weren’t actively sending them to war/actively promoting fascism). Ice’s voting record (and after 1988, Mav’s too) 1980-2020—note that he has always considered himself an “educated moderate”: 1980: Reagan. 1984: Reagan. 1988: Bush. 1992: Bush. 1996: Clinton (reaction to aftermath of PGW. Doesn’t care that Clinton enacted DADT because “I’m not [redacted], so it doesn’t apply to me”). 2000: Gore (refusal to vote for another Bush). 2004: Kerry (Mav votes Bush this year out of spite as he and Ice are going through their break-up). 2008: McCain (Navy loyalty). 2012: Obama (liked him as a person/worked closely with him, didn’t like his policies so much). 2016: Clinton (no other alternative). 2020: Biden (actually liked/previously worked with Biden, and now actively married to another man and therefore had to make some liberal concessions). 2024-onwards they will vote for any Democrat as long as they aren’t a “socialist.”

17. Also, Maverick didn’t vote in 2016. Partially because in my universe the TGM mission takes place that November, very near the election, and he has bigger fish to fry (something Ice will later take him to task for), and partially because I genuinely think he wouldn’t be able to stomach either mainstream candidate and probably would’ve voted for Libertarian Gary Johnson, which might have torn his relationship with Ice to shreds a few days before schedule. “Are you fucking kidding me? Johnson? Pete, this moron’s moronic party wants to abolish the driver’s license—” / “—Yeah, and then I could ride your sweet wheels with no problem whatsoever—maybe he’ll abolish pilots’ licenses, too, I’d like to see that—” / “If you vote for Gary fucking Johnson, I will very happily stop footing the bill for your piece-of-shit airplane, and you can see how useful your pilot’s license is then—” / So Mav didn’t vote in 2016. 

35. In terms of what he Tweets: I do foresee, post-retirement, Ice basically becoming a neoliberal military intellectual type on Twitter a la Mark Hertling (look him up on Twitter). Bio: “Retired @SECNAV. Advisor @WhiteHouse and @VoteVets. Contributing writer @TheAtlantic. Interested in geopolitics & modern warfare. Aviator, husband, Padres fan. [American flag emoji]” Only posts pictures of himself and Maverick at three specific annual events: 1. their wedding anniversary (“36 years with this fool and he’s still surprised to find out that I like the F-5 better than the A-4 #happyanniversary”), 2. every EAA Airventure (huge airplane convention), 3. San Francisco’s Fleet Week (which of course they MUST attend, they even headline it in 2018). Informative, analytical, highly-respected. Maybe goes on CNN or NBC all the time to talk about civil-military relations shit (aversion to FOX since the start of the Iraq War). Gonna say he had like four really viral threads about Russia and Ukraine in April or May and so has 300k followers or something like that. He has a personal website that links back to his Twitter and every essay he writes for international publications, with a pretty braggadocious bio (something along the lines of “Tom Kazansky has directly almost started global nuclear war twice in his life, and in the thirty-year gap in between, sold the Swiss half their entire goddamn Air Force and directed an entire Fleet during the Iraq War”). Lots of tweets like “Military aviation hot take: Compared to the F-22, the F-35 is a waste of money. Source: husband with 400+ hours of F-35 experience.” / “[Quote tweet of Russian Foreign Minister boasting about Su-57 production lines] Oh, so you guys finally figured out how to make more than one every other year?” / “Analysis of the failure of Russia’s Black Sea Fleet in Ukraine, from an ex-US Pacific Fleet Commander’s perspective: a short [thread emoji] [This thread gets 26k likes and 4k retweets]” / “This weekend my husband & I flew in to @EAA Oshkosh #OSH19 & took home first place for best P-51. Not to brag, but.” (A reply to this tweet: “Sir, you really know how to bury the lede that your husband is Adm. Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. I had to look it up on Wikipedia.” / @TKazansky: “What, was it not obvious? Who else could it have been?”) Also, I see him writing a whole bunch of op-eds for international political magazines a la Tom Nichols (look him up on Twitter too). Writing analyses of recent geopolitical/military events for the New York Times, the New Yorker, the Bulwark, the Navy Times, the Atlantic, Bellingcat, etc. Not so much focused on domestic issues (but VoteVets [socially progressive vets’ group] board member, and ardently pro-democracy, yay!). He’s a smart guy.

37. This is not a headcanon, just kind of a… a real-life implication. My Ice was Deputy Commander of Third Fleet in 2003, meaning he’d have been there in command of the USS Abraham Lincoln when President Bush gave his “Mission Accomplished” speech aboard that ship in May less than 2 months after the initial American invasion of Iraq. Very premature & embarrassing. Ice would’ve been in direct contact with Bush/Cheney/NSC bureaucrats many, many times during the war. I genuinely believe this is what pushed him over the edge into firm liberal territory.

[wandersee]

girl why is your blog desc. a poem. you blog shitposts and we love you for it

ASFJGSTHDG JOKES ON YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE:

it was a shitpost masquerading as a desc the whole time 😎

[erwinsvow]

I LOVEEE WIFEY READER i wanna be rafes perfect little housewifey..

girl me!!! me asf!!!!!!!!! this is the most shy reader concept i think she is very content to be a housewife and have lots of kids running around and she kind of drifts off and fantasizes about it a lot..

you often drift away into your own thoughts, something rafe has gotten used to by now. he doesn't need to snap you out of it—infact, he doesn't like to, since he thinks it's better to leave you in your thoughts than worrying about something once he brings you back to the real world.

so watching you now, perched on the chair by his window, your book abandoned on your lap and staring out the window, he doesn't know why he does it.

"kid. kid." you still don't hear him so he gets up, leaving his laptop and papers behind on the desk and getting closer to where you are. the sun coming in through the window feels warm, yet you look perfectly comfortable, perfectly content. rafe puts a hand on your knee and the other on the windowsill, boxing you in.

"what're you thinkin' about, huh?" rafe asks, and you look up at him right away. your breathing picks up when you see how close he is, feeling a little silly for not realizing this entire time.

you stay like that—staring up at him, the vision of the scene you were just daydreaming flooding back. your pretty boyfriend as your pretty husband, a house like tannyhill of your own, all the time with rafe that you could possibly imagine.

"n-nothing," you finally reply, remembering rafe had asked a question.

"nothin'? yeah?" you nod in agreement, not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. your head feels a little fuzzy still, but it doesn't take rafe long. he looks back out the window, in the direction you had been looking. there's a clear view of the neighbor's yard, little kids running around while mom and dad chase them.

rafe's not stupid, but when it comes to matters concerning you, he's something of a genius. two and two come together quickly, the flushed way you look up at him and whatever dream you were picturing coming into his own mind too.

"cute kids, huh?"

you nod again, heartbeat picking up though you're not sure why. yet. rafe leans in, his arms still surrounding you like a trap. everything feels more intense when he's like this.

"i bet ours would be cuter, right?" your lips part in surprise by themselves—staring back and blinking quickly. you nod. "like that, wouldn't you?"

rafe's hand finally leaves the window and joins his other one on your legs, stroking up and down. you turn to look down but can't help looking into his eyes again immediately after.

"i asked you a question."

"yes. yes, um, i-"

"knew you would. a whole bunch of kids and nothin' else to worry about, right?"

you look up, your own eyes melting while you stare at his, wondering when you had stopped telling rafe things, realizing he understood you even without words.

"except you. you and the kids." you don't even realize the words slipped out—still feeling like too much. your cheeks burn, thinking you just said something you shouldn't have.

"good girl. c'mon, on the bed. gotta start with one, right?"

[posh--bee]

hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.  

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.

[niningtori]

make you cry | part one

part two: beomgyu's ending | part three: hyuka's ending

pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh. 

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.” 

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 

“but still bad,” he argues. 

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

-

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?” 

“what, no!”  you say firmly. 

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 

“do you trust me?” he asks. 

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

-

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 

“you know why,” you say. 

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 

“kai, don’t —” 

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly. 

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

[stevebabey]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

[byuntrash101]

the better friend

f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez smut | mdni 7.3k a good friend lets a friend watch but a better friend lets him join nsfw tags under the cut

idol!au, dom bf!san, switch simp!mingi (rengoku hair mingi because im weak for him), a teeny tiny bit of plot, san is an evil genius in this, biting, marking, exhibitionism/voyeurism (mingi peeping at reader and san), sensory deprivation (blindfold), suspicion of dubcon but it's cleared out, masturbation (m), oral (m), fingering (f), threesome with sangi, unprotected sex (don't do that kids), praises and degradation (good girl, darling, princess... but also slut, whore, etc), lots of begging, so. much. teasing, kitty slaps <33333 (san is the kitty slapper™), finger sucking (f & m), ruined orgasm (f), dumbification (reader and mingi are fucked stupid), sloppy seconds, cum play (lots of cum), multiple orgasms (f & m), overstimulation (m), facial (f), a bit of spit kink, squirting, lowkey wholesome ending (we love to see it)

this a sequel to the good friend but it can be read as a stand alone. you just have to know san and reader have been dating for a long time and mingi has been simping for reader for almost as long.

a/n: i really went all in tbh. i dont know what happened but like. this fic is filthy and I LOVE IT. also consider this our collective manifestation prayer circle to achieve barricade tickets for the upcoming tour <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

Usually you wouldn’t watch the concert from the crowd. San said it would be too distracting to see you in the pit of faces along with the cheering crowd of entranced fans. Moreover, he could perform any song for you whenever you wanted, you simply had to ask. But you always argued it wasn’t the same looking from backstage because the angle was all wrong and the sound wasn’t as clear. And for the private concerts, they didn’t have the sparkly outfits and San didn’t have the same drive, the same aura he had on stage.

“Even with the best will in the world I can't cheer as loud and stroke your ego as good as a crowd of tens of thousands of Atinys chanting your name in unisson.” 

San only sighed. All those points were indeed valid. And he had to admit defeat.

“Just this once, ok?” and you practically jumped in his arms and kissed him all over his pretty face which traded the deep creases between his straight brows and the pout for an amused smile on his lips. “But you gotta promise me to blend in” he said sternly, momentarily getting out of the array of kisses to make sure he got his point across. You nodded firmly.

“Don’t worry too much about it Sannie~”  you said before hugging him again. 

“Yeah…” he said and you felt his cheek lifting against yours once more. An idea blossomed within him.

***

The concert was insane. You were so glad you had finally convinced your performer boyfriend. Being there in the crowd felt so much different from backstage. There you could cheer and enjoy the show in a way that was so much more intense and raw. You screamed and chanted and sang. You did everything. Yeosang even waved at you and you waved back. But it all felt and looked like a normal fan to idol interaction. So you were doing a pretty good job at keeping your promise to your boyfriend.

Speaking of the devil, that man captivated you. His aura on stage was unparalleled. His moves were sharp, his eyes focussed, his voice powerful and stable. He was incredibly professional. 

He perfectly conveyed every emotion of each act so perfectly. His delivery carried out sorrow and depth throughout the emotional songs and his moves inspired power and aplomb during the upbeat and energetic ones.

The fact that he still manages to surprise you every time with his talent and drive is incredible in itself. You were there every step of the way of his journey. You met a kid with a dream and now you stood in front of a man with passion. 

And what a man he was. You couldn’t get enough of him, enough of the way he moved so effortlessly on stage, enough of the way his presence filled the venue entirely. You couldn't take your eyes off him. The way the tight black sleeveless top hugged his frame, how his broad shoulders moved and accompanied every beat, how the sweat rolled off his temples and neck to get soaked by the black fabric, how his prominent muscles flexed and relaxed, the way the light bounced off his glossy bronzed skin. 

He was born to be on this stage of that you were convinced without the shadow of a doubt. 

But curiously when you weren’t eyeing your boyfriend like candy you found your eyes weirdly gravitating toward another member… Mingi. Well, no it wasn’t that weird, after all Mingi was your friend, a very good friend. Yeah it was only normal that you wanted to witness him in his element too. 

A friend cheering for a friend. 

Everything was perfectly normal. Everything? Even the thrill you felt when he delivered powerful and incisive rap verses with that low voice that was his signature? Even the tingle you felt in your guts when you saw him perfectly execute the body waves? Even the heat rushing to your chest and face when you saw the way his flexible hips rolled and thrusted? Even the unquenchable thirst you felt when you noticed the way his lips rounded up around the water bottle as he threw his head back and swallowed in big gulps, droplets of sweat running down the column of his throat and dripping at the soaked ends of the bright orange and red hair? Yes! Normal! Everything. Just normal…

But what was it, that you felt your eyes locked with his and you noticed he was also watching you. A fleeting second that seemed to last for a lifetime, hung in between the tensed and humid air. A second that silenced the crowd around you. And as quick as your eyes met his, the contact was broken. 

San once again smirked.

And the show went on.

***

When the show ended you waited a little for the venue to empty. Some people were still hanging around chatting excitedly about the fresh core memories they had made or taking selfies to ensure the memories stayed vivid for a long time. But you managed to sneak behind the barricades unnoticed. 

You found the members exchanging and laughing at some minor unnoticed mistakes that happened that you didn’t even catch.

“Y/n-ah!!” Wooyoung was the first one to notice you. And he wrapped his arms around your nape lovingly. “How was the show? Did you like it? Who was the most handsome back there? Was it me? Don’t say San or I will get mad! It was me, wasn’t it?”

You only laughed returning his warm embrace.

“You’re lucky Mingi isn’t here when you get this handsy with y/n” Yunho remarked, crossing his arms on his chest. You and Yeosang were the only ones that appeared remotely confused by the statement. 

“You mean San?” Yeosang asked, in an attempt to clear out the confusion but Yunho only shook his head.

“San doesn’t mind it as much.” Yunho added.

“Mingi is the one that only tolerates San being all touchy touchy with y/n” Seonghwa said, as he was removing his mic pack from his back pocket. 

You were still very much perplexed but when you went back to look at Yeosang he was just nodding knowingly in approbation. You decided to not pay more attention to the strange exchange because you only wanted to congratulate San.

“Speaking of my wonderful boyfriend. Any idea where he’s hiding?” 

Hongjoong shrugged as he looked around. 

“San and Mingi already went back to the dressing rooms, I think” Jongho said. 

“Thanks big baby” you said, ruffling his hair and fleeing instantly while you heard him complain about it in the distance. 

Once you reached the hall of individual dressing rooms you rushed to San’s door ready to barge in before you heard a muffled conversation coming from the other side. You couldn’t make much of what was being said but you recognized the voices without a doubt. You decided to knock before letting yourself in carefully.

“Oh! y/n, baby” San rushed to you as soon as you entered while Mingi stood there and gave you a silent nod and an awkward half smile (the signature business smile as Yunho liked to call it). You returned the smile, perfectly mirroring Mingi’s awkwardness. “So how was the show?” San continued paying no mind to Mingi anymore, solely focussing on you.

“I’m gonna get going” Mingi said, somewhat hurriedly before walking past you and heading towards the door. Before closing it he exchanged a knowing glance with San who returned it with a nod, you tried to decipher the unreadable expression on your boyfriend’s face but to no avail. And your tall fire haired friend disappeared promptly behind the door. Something felt strange about the whole ordeal but you couldn't pinpoint it. 

But after the tension you felt looking at Mingi during the concert you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, to bring him up. You wanted to focus on your boyfriend. That was the best thing to do… for everyone.

“So~ baby ~. Did you enjoy yourself?” San asked and he snaked his strong arm around your waist, his skin still had a light sheen of sweat about it.

“You were incredible!!” you said enthusiastically, trying your best to get rid of the outlandish feeling and the lingering guilt.

“Was I, huh? Really?” he said, curious to hear more. You knew how much San liked to be praised so you went on.

“You’re the performer of the century! Your voice was so good like baby your mic was ON!” San nestled his face in the crook of your neck.

“Go on” he said as he was planting soft kisses on your skin. His hands were now roaming your body sliding up your arms and down your spine to the small of your back and up again. He was really enjoying the praises, so much so that the atmosphere shifted again to feel a little heavier, a subtle change that you picked up on right away. After dating San for so long you knew him all too well to not know what the soft touches and gentle kisses on your neck meant. So you matched his energy. What better way to chase away Mingi’s memory than to let your boyfriend fuck you stupid until you could only remember his name and the way his cock felt inside you?

“Yes. You looked so focussed and you looked so good.'' Another kiss and another, slower, lingering, warm. “I couldn't take my eyes off you” you felt him smirk against your skin. That was a lie. He knew that but somehow that lighted a fire in him. And he threw a look to the ajar door of the dressing room.

“Fuck you smell so good baby” San huffed pushing his hardening cock onto your hip and you bit your lip to repress a moan. “It was so hard not to look at you while you were down in the pit” He breathed against your skin. “I wanted to make you step on that stage and take you right there.” He pushed his cock with more intent onto you. “I wanted everyone to see you. I wanted everyone to know what a good little slut you can be for me” This time the kiss had more teeth, you felt him bite onto your neck. “Can you imagine? All those eyes on you?” 

This mere vision had you moaning and throwing your head back. In a flash your brain played it like a movie for you: you, sprawled out onto the stage, being a good girl for your boyfriend. Your face flushed and your folds glistening with need. While he pushed into you under the roars of the crowd. Under their gaze. Under his gaze. Mingi looking at you being fucked full of cock and cum. Mingi looking at you… The thought sent a wave of arousal through your guts and you felt your panties becoming uncomfortably wet.

“Fuck” San complained in a short breath, his rumbling voice bringing you back. “I want you so fucking bad” the urgency that laced his low voice made the carnal confession that much more real. The sexual tension was almost palpable.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you said teasingly, pressing your thigh up his groin and you felt him melt into the skin of your neck with a small gasp. You smirked, satisfied.

“Fuck baby you’re so so bad” he teased and extended his hand to the clothing rack of gaudy and studded stage outfits that was next to you. “I want us to play today” his fingers interlaced with a silk scarf that you believed belonged to one of Yunho’s fits from a previous stage. “What about a little sensory deprivation play? What do you say baby?” He asked, holding the makeshift blindfold. 

You thought of it for a second. Any other time you would have jumped on the occasion but now… your goal was precisely to look at San to forget… well everything else. There’s really no telling what your imagination will run to if your eyes aren’t able to only take in the figure of your boyfriend. And that scared you a little bit. San sensed it right away.

“You know you can trust me right?” you knew that much of course you could trust him. But could you trust yourself?  

“I know what you like, baby don’t worry. Let’s try something new, okay?”

“Okay” you finally exhaled.

***

Mingi didn’t know what he was still doing there. Hunched over and peeping through the small gap of the door like a creep. He should go, he should have gone a long time ago. That was just a crazy idea. What kind of friend just agrees when he’s asked to watch his friend and his girlfriend (who also happened to be his crush) fuck? He should have declined and left but no. He said yes. And he didn’t even think twice, didn't even question it. He just blurted yes like a pathetic simp that’s been waiting for the occasion forever. (That was true unfortunately but Mingi wasn’t ready to admit that to himself). Now San probably thought he was a weird fucking pervert. A fucking freak. But he wasn't…right? Right! Yeah, of course he wasn’t! So he should leave… He should leave like now. But he couldn't.

He couldn’t when he saw your face change as San buried his face into your neck. He loved the way your eyes changed when he saw San roll his hips against yours. The whole aura about you changed, your gaze darkened but also your voice. It became lower, more sultry. He couldn’t make out what you two were saying but he didn’t have to because the non verbal language was more than enough to understand the simple primal interaction that was happening between you two. 

You were about to fuck…

When San grabbed Yunho’s silk scarf and held it to you. Mingi felt your hesitation but then an instant later San was carefully tying the silk ribbon at the back of your head. Not too tight just enough to keep you from seeing anything. And just like that in a second it was dark.

Mingi watched his friend guiding you to the vanity and you giggled playfully as his large hands snaked to your thighs and grabbed your ass to hoist you up the furniture, pushing the makeup products in the process, one lipstick rolling off the surface and on the ground. Neither of you both even realized and Mingi couldn’t care less especially now that San’s hand left your hip to turn around and signal Mingi to enter back into the room. 

His heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. Was he really about to do that? Yeah of course he was. Because his body was moving on its own, feeling the irrepressible pull, the inexplicable magnetism he felt for you from that very first day in Gang-nam. 

San’s hand moved to his lips to signal his tall friend not to make any noise. And as if he was floating Mingi found himself holding his breath and standing to your side ogling you hungrily as San focussed back on you. His hand leaving his lips to ride your skirt up your hips and revealing the black lace panties.

“Did you know we were going to do that?” your boyfriend asked and you didn’t need to see to know about the shit eating grin on his face. “Is it why you wore such easy-access clothes?”

You gasped and bit your lip. You couldn't see but you could feel. San’s warm hands on your thigh rose goosebumps on your skin. The heightened sensations made more arousal pool in your panties.

“Answer me, baby” San said, low voice taking on a commanding tone before suddenly pulling on your blouse, popping open every single one of your snap buttons and just like that your black lace bra was also on display.

And Mingi thought he was going to explode. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, he had to clench his fist so hard and only the dull pain in his palms kept him from gasping at the breathtaking view. How fucking beautiful could you be? 

San grabbed a fist full of your breasts kneading them roughly through your undergarment to urge an answer out of you 

“Yes!” you hurriedly replied. Arching your back into his touch. “I wore this skirt and blouse because I know how much you like to rip them off” 

“Good girl”

You heard your boyfriend hum in satisfaction and what you didn't hear was Mingi biting down on his lip so hard he could have drawn blood. But he couldn’t do otherwise when San’s fingers hooked themselves on the waist band of the lace and dragged the article of clothing along your thighs until it hung loosely on one of your ankles.

“Show me everything” San said in a breath, harshly tugging on your bra as your breasts jumped out and spilled to each side of your chest.

Mingi repressed a strangled gasp in the back of his throat as his dripping cock strained against the tight concert attire. 

“I said everything baby” San said and you knew exactly what he meant. Slowly you spread your legs to let the vanity light shine right onto your heat as everything remained dark on your part. 

Mingi felt like his brain was going to give out as your body was revealed. Your perfect breasts and hardened nipples and of course your dripping core. Long strings of slick linked your hole to the skin of your inner thighs. Mingi felt dizzy at the sight.

“Good girl” San praised again. “You always get wet so easily don't you?” he chuckled while you fought the urge to touch yourself. “Good little slut” he praised again, his hands dipping between your thighs and aiming right away for your clit. 

You pushed your hips onto his touch and moaned as he circled your bundle of nerves exactly how you liked it. 

“Fuck Sannie” you whined. “More please” 

“Want your cute little cunt finger fucked?” San cooed with his honey toned voice. And you nodded enthusiastically. But that only earned you a sharp slap on your exposed center. The wet clap resounded in the empty room. It seemed amplified for you. You moaned loudly at the stinging feeling, the delicious and unexpected pain made your legs tense up and shake slightly.

“You’re wearing a blindfold, not a gagball, princess. Use your words” San said sternly landing another slap on your swollen clit before gently circling it again.

“Y-yess!! Yes!!! P-please. Want your fingers inside” you replied in a strangle moaned, your hips uncontrollably following San’s every move.

Mingi’s jaw dropped to the floor he never knew you’d enjoyed such things, he never knew you’d enjoy the harsh tone of voice and the pain but there was no doubt you were actually loving every single second of this. Mingi was certain of it when he saw the way your cunt reacted to each little slap, the way you quivered, the way you rolled your hips into San’s hand, the pleasured moans that cascaded from your lips. Mingi couldn't take it anymore and without even realizing it he found himself palming his hard and leaking cock through his pants. 

“Good girl” San praised right before pushing two fingers inside your tight heat, curling them right into your sweet spot. You felt your concerns melt right away as you felt the two digits permeate you. The familiar feeling of the ring on his index made your mind go blank at the pleasure you felt radiating from your very core.

“F-fuck.. Sa-annie…” you breathed out with difficulty.

“Shhh. That’s it baby. I got you” San cooed, laying his other hand on your thigh, stroking it lightly. “You’re so good baby. You take my fingers so well”

The praises were setting your mind and body on fire, and you were giving in to the brazier. You moaned louder as San was pumping in and out of your cunt more rapidly, dragging out the wet squelching sounds that bounced off the walls and came back to your ears.

And Mingi’s too. He was completely entranced by the way your cunt was sucking in San’s fingers. You were so eager for them, your pussy clenching and throbbing around them every time he pulled out and welcoming them back when he pushed back in creating more thick and clear slick to gush out of your hungry little hole, the pull of arousal soon forming a small puddle in San’s palm. Mingi couldn’t think anymore, he could only rub his painfully hard cock as the wet precum stain became visible through his pants. 

“Baby are you going to cum?” San asked, his other hand leaving your thigh to lay flat on your stomach and drawing quick circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Yesss” you said through gritted teeth. But as you felt the familiar build up almost reach the peak it went away. San withdrew his fingers and took them out of your poor confused little cunt. Leaving you there to clench around nothing and whines slipped from your lips at the sudden loss of the fullness.

“You’re so greedy today” San said before slapping your eager little cunt again. You moaned and shook under him, fighting the urge to close your legs. “I’m not done playing with you”

San started to rub your clit again with his thumb with one hand while he lifted the other slick coated one to his tall friend. He wanted to chuckle but fought against it when Mingi looked back at him with puzzled puppy eyes. So he approached his hand closer to his face and mouthed “taste her”.

Mingi’s brain had given up a long time ago, so he was moving only on instincts when he opened his mouth and licked around his friend's digits as silently as possible. That was a dream come true never in a lifetime he would have hoped to taste you like this. Ever. You tasted so sweet and sinful, the velvety nectar slided on his tongue so smoothly and his eyes rolled back as he solely focused on your taste on his tongue and your alluring scent floating to his nose. 

Fuck that was what San had the pleasure of tasting everytime he found himself between your legs. If only he could taste more. Without even thinking Mingi wrapped both his hands around his friend’s wrist pushing his hand further into his mouth and sucked avidly on the cum coated finger and back to the pool of arousal that had gathered in his palm.

“Yeah that’s it” San praised as he circled your clit slowly, offering some kind of relief to the painfully swollen nub. But the praise was more for Mingi than for you. He smirked as he saw his friend devour your essence as if he was a parched man and the smirk only grew wider when he took back his hand and Mingi opened his eyes back looking at him with a glazed over stare. At that moment San knew his friend was done for.

“Here Princess” San said, extending to you his hand that was now coated in your own slick and Mingi’s spit. You instinctively welcomed the wet fingers into your mouth wrapping your lips around them and sucking them avidly. “How does it taste?”

“Sho- hmph… goodjf” you struggled to reply not wanting to let go of your boyfriend’s fingers.

Mingi was absolutely mesmerized by the way you were so eagerly sucking San’s fingers. Mixing your cum, your spit but also his own. His cock throbbed at the thought of cutting the middleman that was San’s hand and just lean down to kiss you. Lapping at your lips for entrance and diving into you, body and soul. He wanted it all.

“Such a good girl for me” San praised taking his fingers back, not without a quiet whine from your end and a repressed moan from Mingi. 

But the disappointment was short lived when you heard your boyfriend fidgeting with his pants and you knew what was coming up next. You prompted yourself on your elbow and spread your legs wider. San chuckled while Mingi cursed silently.

You were dying to see what San was doing. You wanted to see how he kicked off the pants and took his raging hard cock in hand to pump his fist a couple of times around it. You wanted to see him between your thighs as he rubbed his tip on your wets folds. You arched your back into him again, urging him to fill you up full of his cock.

“Fuck you’re so impatient, baby” He growled as he pushed his tip inside you earning a cry from you. “Is that what you wanted?" he huffed, his eyebrows meeting on his forehead as he felt the vice grip of your pussy around him. Even after a thousand times you still felt so good. So wet and tight for him.

“Y-yess! Oh fuck i- yes thank you Sannieee” you were barely able to say as you felt your cunt stretch around San’s girth. You lifted your face as if you could see him splitting you in two. You’d always liked to see him fill you up but sadly you couldn’t.

But Mingi, on the other hand, could see it all.

Mingi couldn’t help it anymore he pulled his pants and boxers down midthigh just enough to take his hard and leaking cock out. He didn’t take the time to undress. He didn’t have the time he needed to stroke his cock at the exact same pace as San was fucking you. 

Said pace was slow and deep. San liked to start out like that, he liked to drive you mad. You felt every inch of him leisurely pushing his thick cock inside until it touched the deepest part of you only to pull out just as slowly, enjoying the way your cunt gripped around him desperate to ever let him go. You were whimpering, whining and squirming. You were going crazy and you weren't the only one.

Mingi was struggling just as much as you were, his balled fist tightly wrapped around his aching length languidly going up and down. He was struggling to keep the hellishly slow pace, struggling to not stroke his fat cock faster but he had to if he wanted to maintain the illusion that it was him inside of you.

At some point San felt merciful and started to go faster. Not for you really he enjoyed to torture you way too much but it was more for Mingi, he noticed his tall friend pinching his lips into a thin line, sharp eyes shutting close and eyebrow digging a deep crease on his forehead. San enjoyed the anguish but he also enjoyed seeing the relief spread on his friends face when he finally fucked you harder. Your cunt became even tighter around San and he found himself moaning rhythmically along with you every time he pushed his thick cock inside you. While Mingi’s eyes didn't once leave your throbbing pretty pussy gushing out more and more translucent slick.

San gradually picked the pace to the point he was soon smashing his hips into you. Making your breasts jump with each powerful thrust. The fact that you couldn’t see your boyfriend makes you feel him that much more. You felt his strong and calloused hands on your thigh and waist and you felt his cock perfectly splitting you in two to this hellish rhythm that made you forget about anything else. Including your surroundings. You were no longer able to keep your voice down. Everything felt too strong, too good to be able to mask the loud moans of pleasure into small, controlled little whimpers. 

“F-fuck you’re really enjoying your…self” San struggled to say. “Aren’t you?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer anything back. You could only let your tongue loll out of your mouth while you moaned incoherent words.

Mingi’s eyes kept on darting between your swollen cunt and your fucked out face. He just knew that underneath the silk blindfold you were rolling your eyes. And that made his cock twitch in his hold, more precum oozing out the tip, at this point it was practically dripping onto the tiled floor.

“Fuck why are you being so fucking loud for?” San asked with a scoff. “Want people to hear you?”

“Sa-nnie” you complained but you did not become quieter for that much.

“Ohh. I get it” San said in a sarcastic tone, slowing down again. That had you squirming when you felt the tight feeling in your core slowly fading away.

“N-no, p-please Sannie, nooo” you begged shaking your hips, trying to fuck yourself back on your boyfriend’s cock to find the same rhythm.

“You want people to know what kind of good whore you are”

“Yes, yesss. Exactly-fu-... Sannie please.” You would have agreed to anything he was saying to have him fuck you exactly like he was a second ago.

“Maybe you even want my members to hear you” San said with a smirk. “Especially Mingi I bet”.

At the mention of the name you stopped moving around, your brain flooding with the images of Mingi body rolling and dancing.

“Oh you just became tighter baby.” San said with a smirk. “So you do want him to see you” San said, fucking you even slower now. 

“Pleaseeee” you said in a breath.

“I bet you wished it was him fucking you right now” San said eventually completely pulling out of you.

“Noo… P-please” you whined quietly your throbbing cunt clenching around nothing, begging for more attention.

For the first time Mingi peeled his eyes off you to look at his friend only to be met with San’s wicked smirk. San’s smirk grew wider when he saw his fiery haired friend look back at him with big round terrified eyes. He knew Mingi was panicking right now; he couldn’t even touch his cock anymore. Poor weeping thing just waited there ignored while it continued leaking more precum.

“Say it, Princess” San insisted. “Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself” San cooed, leaning over you to whisper in your ear before leaving his place between your legs and gesturing to Mingi to take his place. 

For a second Mingi was completely frozen to the side. He didn’t know how to act. His brain was almost melting out his ears and he was in complete overdrive. But he shook his head and took a silent step in your direction then a second one and found himself right between your spread legs. He could have cum with just that, just looking at you from that angle just knowing that he could take you right there. But he waited. Immobile. 

“If you want more cock. You’ll have to say it baby” San cooed again in your ear and you faced a dilemma.

You didn’t know if you could really voice out your secret fantasy that way. San never struck you to be the jealous kind but still… he required you to say that and in this second, on the brink of your orgasm, your brain only soaked in sin and lust you couldn’t think of anything else than to be rammed again. You pictured Mingi again in your mind, you imagined what he would feel like inside you, what he would sound like, what he would look like. Fuck… you did want that.

“I-I wish it was Mingi fucking me right now” you said hesitantly but pushing your hips up, spreading your legs even further pushing your soaked and desperate little cunt in the air. 

“Good girl” San whispered, satisfied and gave a nod to Mingi.

Mingi’s heart was about to burst out of chest. The frantic muscle was rattling against his ribs and jumping in his throat then diving back in the pit of his stomach. He was all over the place. He couldn't believe it. He couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe he heard you say that. Saying out loud you wished another man was inside you instead of your boyfriend. And not any man. Him. 

You wanted him.

His hands were shaking when he grabbed the base of his cock, twitching as he approached it slowly from your core while you grew more and more impatient. 

“Pleaseee” you whined again. “I said it…. now please give me cock” you pleaded. 

As soon as Mingi’s tip touched your entrance you went completely silent and Mingi struggled to do too. When he pushed himself inside you he could have passed out. You were so welcoming, so warm, so tight, so wet. So good. Oh so fucking good. He progressed inside you very slowly earning a long stretched out moan from your end. He couldn't believe he was the one making you feel this way. He was the one pulling those beautiful sounds out of your lips. When he bottomed out he swore he had died and went to heaven. There was no other explanation. The way he felt could only be explained by faith. God was a woman. And that woman was you.

Fuck he needed more of this. He needed to feel you more, to hear you more, to see you more. He wanted it all.

He started to pump himself in and out of you faster, his hand struggling to find a place to settle, finally opting to grab the edge of the vanity. Avoiding direct contact with you, fearing you would recognize him. Rapidly he found himself fucking you (and himself) senseless, rutting his hips like a dog while San watched with a little satisfied smirk, thick cock in hand stroking lazily. 

Your mouth went agape. It felt so good, so fucking good to be finally fucked that deep that rough, exactly how you wanted, the tight feeling in your gut rapidly building up again. But it also felt different. The angle was different. It felt like San’s dick wasn’t hitting the same spot as usual, it also felt slightly curved upwards. And longer. And what about the hands, the touches? San always holds you at the waist, always stuffs his fingers in your mouth? Why wasn't he touching you?

In a flash you ripped the blind fold off your eyes and opened them. At first the bright lights of the vanity behind you blinded you for a short second. The first thing you saw was the tuft of dampened fiery orange hair. Then your vision cleared out and you saw Mingi right between your legs, sharp brows deeply furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line and smashing himself into you at an unbelievable pace. 

The shock you felt tightened your stomach and you came on the spot.

To see Mingi fucking you this hard, take so much pleasure with it and struggling to keep quiet while he fucked you secretly. You didn’t need anything more. 

“F-fuc- Min-gi” you whined as your legs tensed up and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth agape.

“Y-y/n” Mingi whispered, his hands flying to your hips at that very second you opened your eyes, the many rings on his fingers digging into your skin and without a doubt marking you for the next couple of days. His strong grip grounding you into the vanity to fuck you deeper, faster, better.

You creamed around his cock, your back arched up, your pretty moans and your cunt fluttering around him took Mingi right with you to cloud 9. He couldn’t stop his hips from ramming into you while he delivered scorching hot ropes of thick cum right into your avid little hole. Spasming and twitching. To him it felt like your pussy was trying to milk him dry as he moaned your name a thousand times while bent over you until his hips became sloppy and he eventually came to a stop.

“Awww.” San said as he looked at the both of you disheveled and out of breath, both coming down from your highs. “You both came looking at each other. That's cute” But then he wrapped his hands around your jaw to turn your head to him. “But that made me a little jealous. Don't you think you need to make it up to me, darling?”

Mingi pulled out, out of breath you felt the hot cum running down your pussy and dripping onto the floor. San placed his hand on Mingi’s shoulder and he switched places to join your side.

“Look at that?” San said, crouching down, inspecting your twitching little pussy. “Eventhough you were just fucked full of cum I can tell you want more, baby”

You nodded frantically at the idea of being filled up again.

“Please yes”

San pushed his cock inside you with ease. Mingi’s load providing the perfect lube.

“I slide right in, baby. ” San grunted. After all this teasing he found himself to be closer to his breaking point then he anticipated. “You got her nice and lubed up for me, man.” He sent a cheeky wink to Mingi.

You were just right back down from cumming a short while ago but you found yourself moaning loud for your boyfriend’s cock. It felt so good and soon you were begging him to fuck you harder.

“Please Sannie faster” you said.

“Of course princess I’ll fuck Mingi’s cum right back into your hole he said with a smirk to his friend before smashing himself in. He too was moaning like you were both alone not having a care in the world of what could have been happening outside the dressing room. And soon enough Mingi was hard again.

“Baby, your new boyfriend needs help over there.” San said between moans, drawing your attention back on Mingi again, as he was standing there idle, painful cock laying heavy in his balled fist.

“Please Mingi let me suck your cock” you asked looking right back up at him as your body was jolted up with San’s every move. You didn’t even let Mingi think about it for a second. Your lips instinctively found his beet red tip and you rounded your mouth around it. 

He tasted too good, you relished in the strong flavour and aroma of his cum mixed with your own nectar. It tasted sinful but oh so fucking right. This taste and the way his cock smoothly glided in your tongue made your mind go completely blank. Your tongue focussing on his tip between every come and go around his shaft to collect the precious salty precum you earned along with every grunt, every pant, every whimper from the tall man. You couldn’t have enough of it and you kept on sucking his cock. Relentlessly trying to get another load out of him.

Mingi felt so fucking sensitive right after cumming but it also felt so good.  His strong hand flew to your hair as he grabbed a big fistfull. Instinctively pulling on it to keep you from gobbling up his cock that still felt very sensitive, his moans went up in pitch with overstimulation.

“You’re a real fucking whore for his cock, arent you, Angel?” San asked as he landed a sharp and unexpected slap on your cunt. Making you pop Mingi out of your mouth to look back at your boyfriend again. The delicious sting made you arch your back.

“A-again pleaseee” you said through gritted teeth as San smirked and made your wish come true, slapping your eager little cunt again, making you clench around him harder, making him falter ever so slightly.

Mingi was now pumping his cock over your face, you heard as clear as day the squelching sounds of his spit and cum coating his cock as he stroked it right over you.

San was rubbing tight circles on your swollen reddened clit and ramming into you with all his might. You knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Sannie I’m gonna c-” another sharp slap landed onto your sensitive clit, making you cry out a whimper.

“Not yet, whore. Make your new boyfriend cum first”. San nodded his head in Mingi’s direction.

You were so far gone, mind, body and soul only filled with cock that you didn’t even catch how San referred to Mingi. You were ready to do anything for your boyfriend to finally let you cum so you turned your attention  back to Mingi.

“Please Mingi give me your cum, pleasepleaseplease. Want your cum all over my face.”

Mingi didn’t need more. It flipped a switch inside him to see you spread open by San’s cock but getting your undivided attention to beg for his cum like it was the most precious substance on earth. 

“Fuck y/n” he said in a strangled moan. “Want my cum huh?” the grip on your hair tightened, making the veins of his forearm pop.

“Yes yes yes yes yes pleaseplease” 

“Fuck you’re so good to me. Fuckkkkk… Y/n I love you” he confessed in a breath right before letting out thick ropes of cum that split your face in two from chin to forehead. “I love you I love you I love you” he chanted, both his heart and body finally letting out what he’s been holding back for years. The pleasure made his head spin, more cum crashing onto your nose and lips which you licked hurriedly to get the chance to taste him again.

“Good girl” San said, picking up the pace as he never stopped fucking into you. “You’re so pretty with all this cum on you. Your pretty pussy full of cum and your pretty fucking face too” he said his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“Want another load, Princess?” he asked strong shoulders bulging out as he gripped your waist tighter, bruising your skin and joining Mingi’s ring marks. 

“Yes please cum inside sannie” you whined throwing your head back “Please I want your c-hmppph” your words caught in your throat when Mingi started to rub circles on your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. “Fuckkk” you cried.

“P-please… more… c-cum” you said, your brain completely tuning out to let your primal instinct take the lead. 

“Fuck baby I’m so close San said. 

“Me too.. I-” right at this moment Mingi lightly slapped your pussy and it was the last straw. You were pushed over the edge and Mingi continued to give little fast slaps to your sensitive clit, making you shake as your cum gushed out of you in translucent and powerful streams.

“Fuckkk I’m c-cumming” San said as he delivered more cum inside your hole, joining Mingi’s and mixing together. You completely lost your mind on the feeling of how full you felt while San was pumping another big load into you and Mingi was repeatedly slapping your pretty pussy then switching to quick circles again that gradually slowed down to a stop.

When San pulled out he looked at you with a warm smile that made his eyes into crescents.

“Isn’t she pretty like this?” he asked Mingi, who was looking at you with just as much love.

“Yeah, she is” he breathed out while you gradually came back to your senses.

“Should we make it official?” San asked peeling his eyes off you to look at his friend. 

“What?” Mingi asked, clueless.

“Well the three of us are together now.” San said before turning his attention to you again “Isn't that right, darling?” and you nodded.

“Well Mingi, next time if you want to confess in the middle of a fuck how about you take me out on a date before cumming on my face?” You said scraping the cum on your cheeks into your mouth and sucking on your fingers and San chuckled but Mingi protested looking affronted.

“Hey! You asked me to!”

a/n: i had so much fun writing this i hope you liked reading my babes <3

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[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ professor's pet ” : 

﹙ top uni professor male reader x bttm bratty nerd hyrbid ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . rishen 781 x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ peppy nerd  ˖  brat  ˖  mantis-moth-spider hybrid ˖ hero character﹚

you've always had a soft spot for mr herrera. boy-genius and all. but there is something about the way he looks at you. speaks to you. one day - when he corrects you rather smugly during a lecture. you cannot help but decide to remind him who's the one with the phd. 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ prof/student ˖ rough sex ˖ brat taming ˖ classroom sex ˖ oral ˖ handjob ˖ use of boypussy | wc : 1.0k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: i've been wanting to write this piece with rishen for a bit because come oonnnn

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

he’s your favourite student. but oh do you hate him. those pretty doll eyes that greet you in combination with a bright smile whenever he enters your class. earlier than anyone else, as always. the way you have to look for mistakes in his exam papers. yet most importantly - that innocent way he has at correcting you in the middle of a lecture.

you would call yourself a modest man. one who can accept criticism. but it was different when it came from him. mister herrera. the pretty, preppy nerd of uni who just had so many different ways of making your heart stutter. the brat.

“Oh, I meant no disrespect, professor.”

Those thick lashes batting will be the death of you. Combined with those glossy lips you yearn to drown in?

He’ll make you lose your job. Surely.

“Really?” Is all you can muster, leaned against the edge of your desk. Anything to sate the burning desire in your palms to wrap around his throat.

“You know me, Sir. I am the most earnest.”

Earnest indeed. Earnest in how he presses up against you. Earnest in the way his hands slide onto the desk on either side of you. In the way his head tilts up so that his curls fall from around his face and he smiles oh. So. Sweetly.

“Forgot my assignment sheet.”

His murmur is all you can imagine the sweetness of his lips before he’s off again. How unprofessional.

Like the throbbing bulge in your trousers.

“Such a pretty boy,” you tut over him. One hand yanking on his curls while the other pistons behind him. Fingers curling into spots that nurse out whimpering moans and bucks of his hips against your desk. He’s spilling all over your test papers.

you tried with all your might. but it wouldn’t take long before you have him bent over your desk in the week to come. finally feeling the soft flesh of his thighs under his skirt. finally seeing the way his maroon eyes roll back as you finger his tight little hole.

“How can you be this tight? No one treating this darling hole right?”

“P-Prof - ah - Sir-!”

you quickly found out that he loves to fuck his hips back into you. especially when you got him full of your cock. the noises he lets out. what a dedicated student he is indeed. bouncing his pretty ass back onto you.

“Can you give me the answer now, boy? Hmm? Correct me now?”

well, until you’re shoving his head into the desk. holding him down and pounding his poor thighs into your desk. murmuring rough little degradations to his ear. making him cream all over the wood.

Your cock snaps into that one spot. Rough hands pulling his soft hips back. The wet plapping of his skin fills the classroom. If it weren’t for your hand wrapped firmly around the underside of his jaw - his moans would surely spill all the way down the hallway.

“A-Angh! Ah! Hng- S-Sir - siiirr - ‘m s- so - sor- fuck -!”

You palm along his dick. Stroking it into another squirt as you sneer into his reddened ear.

“Asked you a fucking question, pretty. Where’s that smart mouth of yours?”

through further escapades, you learnt that the most satisfying thing of stuffing him full is when you have fucked him dumb. with eyes rolled back and lips parted. unable to murmur out a single thing other than spluttered drool and a whining - “p-pro-prof-s-s-si-ah!”

another thing he is so earnest at? sucking your cock. you’ve had him under your desk more times than you can count. his glossy red lips wrapped so skillfully. eyes full of tears as your flex fingers into his curls and force his head down further. choke him all the way to your balls. until he’s whimpering. crying.

you always make it up to him by letting him bounce on your dick after. leaned back into your chair as he grips onto your shoulders and shows you that he’s more than just a pretty nerd. he always takes it so well.

amongst various other acts that are sure to get you fired once someone finds out - you must say that your favourite is when he calls you in the middle of the night. grinding into his pillow and pleading that you come up to his dorm and fuck his ass full.

“H-Hngh - an- p-please sir - fuck-!”

of course you do. you’re a good professor - after all.

Your hips drive his into the sheets. Pressing him down in his favourite position: prone bone. It gives you the perfect opportunity to bruise his soft skin with your merciless thrusts.

Rishen’s face presses into the pillows. Hands tightening around the softness as the headboard slams against the wall. His moans pouring through dorm room.

“Can’t even wait for after class tomorrow,” you grunt into his ear. “Jus’ need a cock filling you constantly huh pretty boy? Yeah? Yeaah,”

You rise up if only to crush him with your hips. Slamming into his quivering form with purpose. Stress from endless marked exams taken out on his supple flesh.

“Constantly need your physics professor’s cock pounding at your pretty boypussy huh? Fuck.”

He’s so small beneath you. So full of your cum. So fucked out.

You can’t help but grip his hair. Steer his crying face more into the pillows and plough him sore. Anything to see the way he’ll prance on into class with scarlet heels and a bit of a limp.

“S-Siiir - si -hiir - I-I - I can’ttt - dios-”

His whimpers are sinful. All of this is.

But you will risk you job for it any day. Any day if it meant having the little bratty nerd under you and hiccupping your name.

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[theyhavetakenovermylife]

with what you just said omfg. please. 🙏🙏🙏

HEAD CANONS FOR THE 12 BOYS DOING THE SPIDERMAN KISS WITH THEIR GIRL?! HEHEHEHE

Spiderman Kiss (Fluff)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’ve been binging too much TwoSet, so this took me four days to make. Why? Because violins, baby!😂 And YES, I just saw the title of their latest video, and NO I don’t have guts to watch it😭

Warning: None💚

Leonardo:

The peaceful quietness of your bedroom was disturbed, when you heard light tapping against  your window, making you look up from whatever you were doing. A soft smile spread across your face, already knowing who you would find outside your window.

With a happy skip in your step, you made your way to your window, opening it and letting the cold night air of New York City enter your room. And there you found him, hanging upside down from the fire escape over yours, smiling at you with that sweet boyish smile and pretty blue eyes.

“Leo”, you smiled, feeling giddy at the sight of your turtle boyfriend hanging outside your window. “What are you doing here?”, you asked, climbing out on the fire escape. “You haven’t told me you would come by”.

“I just thought I’ll come by to say hey before patrol”, he smiled, watching as you came closer to him. Even upside down, you made his heart skip a beat. “Can’t a guy just check in on his girlfriend?”

“Of course you can”, you smiled, standing right before him.

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, before your hand came to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking his jaw.

“Will you come over after patrol?”, you asked. “My parents won’t be home before tomorrow”.

“When you ask so nicely”, Leo chuckled. “Of course I will. Anything for my girl”.

You bite your lip, feeling butterflies fly through your stomach. Something that tended to happen when Leo decided to play up his charm. And so, you softly pressed your lips to his in a soft sweet kiss. When you pulled from the kiss, you found Leo smiling from ear to ear, looking at you with pure love in his eyes.

“I love you, Leo”, you smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “See you after patrol”.

“I love you too, (Y/N)”, Leo hummed, savoring the feeling of your lips against his forehead. “See you later”.

Raphael:

You were talking down the street, returning home after a long night out. Even without your headphones, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the familiar figure coming down from above, hanging upside down in the streetlamp you were about to pass. So when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder, you turned with your fists up, ready to fight like your boyfriend had taught you. But when you then found your boyfriend, hanging upside down before you with a smirk plastered across his face, you let out a sigh of relief.

“God damn Raph, don’t do that”, you sighed. “You almost scared the shit out of me”.

“I was going for your pants, but I guess that was one way to do it”, Raph chuckled, his eyes lingering on your for a moment. “On your way home?”

“One were to think that you were the genius turtle with those detective skills”, you laughed, making Raph pull a playful grimes.

“Ha ha, very funny”, he said, reaching one hand out for you, perking his lips. “Now, come here. Gimme a kiss”.

“What if I don’t want to”, you asked, not putting any effort into hiding your smile, as you took a step backwards, getting just out of his reach. Raph gasped in an overly dramatic manner, making you giggle at his antics.

“It’s not nice to lie, (Y/N)”, Raph said, faking an angry expression. “Now, give me a kiss before I get mad”, he continued, pecking his lips once more.

You couldn’t help but giggle, giving in with a bright smile. Holding Raph’s head in your hands, you pressed your lips to his in a small peck that made him hum playfully when you pulled back.

“You look pleased”, you smiled, still holding his head in your hands.

“I am”, Raph smiled. “But I would be more pleased if you gave me another kiss”.

You let out a happy laugh, throwing your head back. Your, oh so charming teaseful boyfriend, always managed to sneak in comments like that.

“Okay, you whining baby”, you smiled, before pressing your lips to his again, feeling him pull you closer with his free hand. This kiss was longer and deeper than the first, yet still short and sweet, making both you and Raph feel tingles in your stomachs.

Raph pulled from the kiss with a very satisfied look on his face, giving you that smug smile once again. “See, that wasn’t so bad”.

“Dork”, you smiled, nudging him slightly on his shoulder.

“All me dork all you want, babe. But even I know you like it”, Raph smirked, before getting ready to climb back up the lamp pole. “And when I get back from patrol, you’ll get more”.

Donatello:

“Donnie?”, you called out, looking around Donnie’s garage lab. But with him being nowhere to see, you did a turn on the spot, taking in your surroundings once more. Where could he be? You had texted him several times, but he still hasn't answered you. And that was an hour ago! “Babe?”

“Up here!”

You looked up to the rafters of the garage, finding your turtle boyfriend on the beams above, fiddling with wirings and all sorts of strange things, that you still had no idea what their names were.

“What are you doing up there?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you smiled up at your boyfriend.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”, Donnie smiled. “I’m fixing the lights. And the electric wires… and the heat… pretty much everything”.

“Okay, but why?”

“Well…”, Donnie sighed, sitting back up on the beam, looking up as he thought. “First Leo came and asked me to fix the lights, because it wasn’t strong enough to let him read. Then Mikey came and told me he had problems with his outlets. And then Raph started yelling up about the heating in his room. And since the wires and all access points are up here, I just decided to get them all done”.

“I guess that makes sense”, you said, taking a seat in Donnie’s chair, watching as he continued to work. “Do you need any help up there?”

“No, no, I got it”, Donnie said, not taking his eyes from what he was working with.

“Okaaayyy….”, you said, not feeling fully sure about his answer. “But please be careful, babe”.

“I’m always careful, (Y/N)”, Donnie said with a smile and his eyes closed, making you uneasy straight away. “I know what I’m doing, so there’s no need to worRY!-”

And just like you had feared it would happen, Donnie fell off the beam and tumbled towards the ground beneath. But before you could even let out a sound, and before Donnie could reach the ground, he found himself tangled up the wires he had just been fiddling with, leaving him hanging upside down just before you, with a sheepish smile. "Whoops".

You stood from the chair, crossing your arms with a smug smile, as you walked towards your tangled up boyfriend. “Seems like you do”.

“This wasn’t part of the plan”, Donnie said, looking up as his lower half tangled up.

“It wasn’t?”, you asked in a teasing manner. “Well, at least I know where I can find you now”. And then, before Donnie could ask what you meant, you took his face in your hands, before pressing a kiss to his lips, making him hum in pleasant surprise. “Now, let’s get you out of all that”.

Michelangelo:

With a sigh you laid back on the bed, turning your head to watch your boyfriend on the floor, as he tinkered around with his latest action figures. That was what happened when he got his hands on a new collectible. That was just how it was. You knew better than to get in the way of Mikey’s hobbies, but damn, sometimes you would get bored just watching him, when you had hoped that day would have been all about a couple time.

“Mikey”, you said with another sigh, trying to catch the attention of your turtle boyfriend.

“Yes, babe?”, Mikey asked, still not taking his eyes off the figure in his hand as he moved its arms around.

“When will you come and cuddle?”

“Just a moment babe, I just got to look through the rest first”.

You let out another loud exacerbated sigh, spreading your arms out on Mikey’s bed like seastar. Mikey still had several boxes on all new figures to go through, and you were getting impatient. ADHD can’t spread to other people by touch, but by this point you fully believed that you had gotten it from Mikey. Ever since you had gotten together with the orange clad turtle, you had started taking on many of his mannerisms. Such as his tendency to sigh in annoyance when getting impatient. And funnily enough, Mikey never seemed to notice when you did so. Just like right now. No reaction. Not what you wanted. So you had to do something about it. And you knew just how.

You scooted yourself around the bed, until you laid with your head resting down the side of the bed, allowing you to look at Mikey with your head upside down. You pucked your lips, making loud and obscene kissing noises. But… still nothing.

Right! That’s it! And with that you grabbed a hold of Mikey’s head, pulling him towards you as he made a surprised sound. You pressed his lips to yours, kissing him while you were still laying upside down on his bed.

“What was that for?”, Mikey asked with a smile.

“Because I’m getting impatient!”, you whined, trying to hide your smile. “And you’re just sitting there looking like a snack! What do you expect me to do?”

“You know what?”, Mikey said, laying his figure down on the floor before coming to a stand, smiling at you. “You’re right. Cuddle time!”

You did not have time to move before Mikey decided to jump on to the bed, throwing himself on you, letting you scream out in laughter, when he started attacking your face with kisses. You regretted NOTHING.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[flickering-chandelier]

Full Throttle

✨ Sequel to Was Any Of It True? ✨

Pairing: Modern badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: honestly no plot, just smut and fluff. Little snapshots of life with these two cuties.

Based on this request! 🩷 And also this lol 🫶🏻

Warnings: smut, swearing, brief mention of family abuse (very vague about Az's past)

Word Count: 5.1k

Azriel smiled as he read your text.

The essay is complete! I'm all yours. 

He'd never get tired of that thought, that you were his, that he was yours. He texted back immediately:

That might be a new record, bookworm. I'll be there in 10.

“Aaaaand, he's ditching us for the girl. Again,” Cassian groaned before Azriel had even said anything.

Rhysand chuckled. “Why are you surprised?”

Azriel didn't bother to hide his grin. “What can I say, boys? She's much prettier than you.”

His friends laughed and made fun of him for a few more minutes, and by the time he was making his way to his motorcycle, you had texted back.

Maybe I just couldn't wait to see you. 

Azriel's heart swelled. He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

When he pulled up to the library, he slid off his bike and leaned against it, waiting for you to come outside.

Even from a distance, he could see that your eyes were bright as you made your way toward him, a bounce in your step that proved you were proud of the work you had accomplished today. Azriel felt pride rush through him.

He met you halfway, taking your heavy backpack from your outstretched hand, slinging it over his shoulder as you twined your fingers with his. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You grinned, tilting your chin up as you walked back to his motorcycle, silently asking for a kiss. Azriel smirked, leaning down to give you one.

Azriel handed you your helmet when you got to his bike, as you said, your smile bright, “I got so much done today, Az!”

“Proud of you, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling your body against his to kiss you again. “You are a beautiful, beautiful genius,” he said in between kisses, holding your face in his hands.

You were getting breathless, he could tell. You sighed happily, leaning into him even more. 

“Take me home,” you said into his mouth, your voice raspy.

He groaned, taking the helmet from your hands and sliding it over your head.

You laughed as he hopped onto the bike quickly, impatiently waiting for you to settle in behind him.

He was going to get you home as soon as humanly possible. 

On the short drive home, your hands may have wandered a bit.

Smiling to yourself, you laid your palms flat on his stomach, moving lower, lower…

Your hands settled on his growing bulge and he reached back, gripping your thigh hard. It was an effort not to squirm. There was no quicker way to get him going.

Azriel growled when you finally made your way into your apartment, pinning you against the door immediately, his hard body pressing into yours, kissing you with such ferocity that it made your head spin.

“You used to be such a good girl,” he teased, nipping at your neck. “Now you're getting me all riled up in public.”

A moan escaped you as he gripped your ass with one hand, while the other tangled in your hair, pulling on it to expose more of your neck to him. He continued his trail of little bites and kisses as you groaned, “It was hardly public. Nobody was around.” 

He laughed into your skin, and you went in for the kill, knowing it would set him off. “And I'm still your good girl,” you panted.

He halted his movements, his eyes darkening with need as he pulled back to look at you with a devious smile. “Prove it.”

You took a moment to give him your sweetest, most innocent smile before you dropped to your knees and unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and his boxers down his thighs. Your mouth was around him in a matter of moments.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his hands moving to gently hold the back of your head.

You hummed somewhat smugly as you took as much of him as you could down your throat, stroking the rest of his length with your hand. 

“Fuck,” he leaned his forearms against the door, pushing himself deeper down your throat, starting to thrust in and out, the back of your head now resting on the door. 

“Look at me, baby,” he grunted, and when your eyes rose to meet his, he groaned loudly, thrusting in and out a few more times before pulling out of your mouth and helping you stand up, kissing you fiercely when you were upright. 

You pushed his pants down the rest of the way and pulled his shirt over his head, desperate to feel his skin.

He smirked as he grasped your ass with both hands, lifting you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom.

As soon as he set you on your feet, you were reaching for your own clothes, but he grabbed your wrists, halting you. You looked up at him curiously and were nearly knocked off your feet at the lust in his gaze. 

Azriel moved your hands to your sides, then slowly curled his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his eyes laser focused on your body as he revealed your skin inch by inch.

“Az,” you whined. This was taking too long, you needed him now--

“Shhh,” he said as he finally lifted your shirt over your head, leaning down to kiss down your neck, over your breasts, down your stomach, as he unhooked your bra with one hand and let it slide off your form. 

He trailed his lips back up, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking hard as he slid your pants down your legs agonizingly slowly. 

When you were left in nothing but your underwear, you felt dizzy with need. “Az, please.”

Az laughed darkly before he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. You landed on your back and before you could even react, he was over you, sliding your panties down your legs.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly into your neck. 

“I want all of you,” you gasped, wrapping your arms around him, resting your hands on his back. “Now.”

He moaned, sliding fully into you in one swift movement. You gasped, clutching to him.

Azriel moved slowly at first, giving you time to adjust to him. He gazed into your eyes, twining his fingers with yours, raising your hand above your head. 

You raked your fingers through his hair, pulling his head down to meet his lips with yours. He kissed you gently, a perfect juxtaposition to him pounding into you faster now.

You moaned into his mouth and you felt him smile, his hips slapping against you harder. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmured, and you gasped, raking your nails down his back.

“I told you so,” you said breathlessly.

He laughed, kissing down your chest, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

You groaned, arching your back off the mattress.

“Mmm, I know what that means,” he growled. “You ready to come for me, bookworm?”

All you could do was moan, spurring him on to move even faster against you. 

He held your chin gently, looking into your eyes as you came undone, and he followed right after, groaning loudly.

When he had finished, he slumped on top of you, breathing hard. 

After you both caught your breath, he slid out of you with a grunt, going to your bathroom and coming back with a wet towel, cleaning you up gently before crawling back into bed with you.

Azriel kissed you softly, gently moving your hair off your face, before pulling you to his chest. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, too,” you said sleepily, listening to his heartbeat against your ear as you fell asleep.

---

Azriel groaned, tightening his arms around you as your alarm went off.

You pulled out of his reach to turn it off, but as soon as you did, his arms were around you, pulling you back against his chest. 

“It's too early,” he murmured, kissing your neck. “Stay with me.”

When you sighed sleepily, he knew you were contemplating it. 

“I need to go over my notes before class,” you grumbled.

Azriel shifted, turning you to face him, “you're the most brilliant person in the world,” he said, kissing you softly. “You can go one day without looking at your notes before class.” 

You giggled and his heart soared. “I'm not that brilliant.”

“You are,” he said, kissing you again, his hand wandering down to your hip.

“Brilliant people check their notes before class,” you smiled.

“Brilliant people stay in bed with their boyfriends for as long as possible,” he smirked. “I read a study about it yesterday.”

You rolled your eyes, and he couldn't resist kissing you again. “You've never read a study in your life,” you murmured against his lips.

He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were pressed against each other. He held your face in his hands. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours. “Just this once.”

When you bit your lip, he knew he had convinced you. “Okay,” you said quietly. 

He grinned, crushing you into his chest, and you laughed. “I love you too, but I can't breathe.”

“Oh shit,” he said, easing his hold on you.

You spent the rest of the morning in his arms. You traced your finger over the tattoo on his shoulder, trailing up his neck and down his bicep. “What do they mean?” You asked quietly.

He smiled, watching your finger trail over his body. “Luck. Cassian and Rhys have similar ones. We all got them together.”

Your eyes met his then. “Luck for what?” You asked, and he could tell you wondering if it was about his elusive family. 

“A better life,” he said quietly, leaning in to brush a soft kiss to your lips. “I guess they worked.”

You flushed, hiding your face in his chest. He laughed, grateful he could still get you flustered like that. 

“My family,” he said quietly, and you went perfectly still, your face still hidden to him. He gently stroked your hair. He cleared his throat, steeling himself to tell you what he had never told anyone else. “My family was… abusive. To me. My stepmom and step brothers hated me. They didn't see me as one of them, so… they were awful. Really, really awful,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Rhys and Cassian's upbringings weren't much better. So as soon as we turned 18, we got these tattoos and we left without looking back.”

He tilted your chin up to look at him and his heart melted when he saw the tears on your cheeks. “I'm sorry,” you whispered. “I had no idea.”

He smiled lightly, kissing the tears off your cheeks one at a time. “Nobody does,” he whispered. “Nobody, but my new family,” tears walked up in his own eyes now as he gazed at you. “My brothers… and you.”

You choked on a sob and he brought his rough hands to your cheeks, wiping the fresh tears away with his fingers as he kissed you softly. 

It was torturous to be apart from you from that moment on. 

---

You felt closer to Azriel than ever, since he had told you about his past, and had called you his family. It made butterflies flutter through your stomach every time you thought about it. 

Apparently it also showed on your face because Az slung his arm around over your shoulders and kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “What are you all smiley about?”

“You,” you smiled.

Cassian and Rhysand groaned. “You two are disgusting.”

You laughed, leaning your head on Az’s shoulder, who looked thrilled. You had been spending more time with his friends, wanting to get to know them better. It was also partly because you felt guilty that Azriel kept ditching them to spend time with you.

The doorbell rang then, and Azriel went down to get the food you all had ordered.

After he left, Rhysand turned to you, “I know we give him a lot of shit, but we are really glad that he has you.”

Cassian smiled at you genuinely for probably the first time. “You've changed him. He's never been this happy in his life.”

You flushed, and before you could reply, Azriel was back. He noticed the look on your face and raised an eyebrow, “What just happened?”

“Time to eat!” Cassian cut in, taking the bags from Az’s hands and divvying up the food.

Azriel looked to you, and you smiled, patting his shoulder. “I'll tell you later,” you whispered.

Later, the boys were playing a video game that you had tried to play with them, but you died so much that you slowed everyone down, so you opted to read a book instead.

Azriel cuddled you in every spare moment that the game allowed, sometimes accidentally letting Cassian or Rhys die while his hand was on your thigh, or when he was pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

The boys were not hesitant to show their frustration, but Azriel would just shrug, kissing you again.

You felt so unbelievably in love. 

It was well into the night when you two ended up back at Azriel's apartment. 

You were exhausted. He tossed you one of his t-shirts and you stripped down to your underwear before slipping it on over your head. He stripped down to his boxers, his eyes trailing your body with a faint smile on his face the whole time.

You both got settled in his bed, facing each other. You felt so tired, but couldn't close your eyes, couldn't peel them from Azriel’s. His hazel eyes were twinkling even in the darkness.

“What did they say while I was gone?” Az asked quietly, stroking your cheek.

You smiled. “They said they're glad that we're together. And that they've never seen you so happy.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, leaning closer to you, “I never have been this happy.”

A blissful sigh escaped from you as he gently touched his lips to yours, kissing you slowly. Lovingly.

His hand found its way to your hip, easing your body closer to his, like he had all the time in the world.

For a while, he kissed you and kissed you, tongue entwining with yours gently. 

Eventually his hands trailed down to the hem of your shirt. Well, his shirt.

His eyes were trained on yours as he gently pulled it over your head and tossed it aside.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured into your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, your stomach. 

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and he looked up at your face, smiling, like he had been waiting for it.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, brushing a lock of overgrown hair out of his face. “So are you,” you said, your eyes trailing across his broad shoulders, his massive biceps, his toned stomach. 

He chuckled, moving up your body to kiss your lips again. “Thank you, bookworm.”

Azriel took his time kissing you again, his hand trailing down to your panties, sliding them off slowly. 

You gasped as he pressed a thumb to your clit, then slipped a finger inside you.

“Az,” you moaned quietly as he started pumping his finger in and out of you. 

He smiled softly, watching your expression. “Good?”

All you could do was nod, biting your lip. His smile grew; his fingers moved faster. You gripped the bedsheets, watching him.

You whimpered and he halted his movements. "You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathed, reaching for him.

He smiled dreamily, sliding off his boxers and hovering over you, settling his elbows on either side of your head. 

His eyes bore into yours as he slid into you. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against yours.

Your hands found their way into his hair as he moved inside you, kissing you lightly on your lips, your neck, your breasts.

Azriel pulled back to look into your eyes, holding you close to him. “You're everything to me,” he murmured, his hips meeting yours in a slow, steady rhythm.

You felt your bottom lip tremble and he wiped his thumb over it gently, his eyes laser focused on you. “You're everything to me,” you admitted, breathlessly.

His mouth turned up into that half smile that you loved. “Even more than books?”

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss. “Even more than books,” you said.

He moaned, picking up speed slightly. Then he laughed. “That turned me on way more than I was expecting.”

You laughed too, and within a few minutes, the two of you were climaxing together, holding each other tightly.

After you caught your breath and cleaned up, you said, “I want your shirt back.”

Azriel laughed, delight flooding his expression as he tossed it back to you. “Good. It looks better on you than it ever could on me.”

---

When you didn’t meet Azriel for dinner, he was worried. You were always on time. Always. 

He was thankful the two of you had shared your location with each other ages ago. When he checked, you were in your apartment, and seemingly hadn’t moved in hours. 

There was no answer when he knocked. He fished the spare key you’d given him out of his pocket and went into your apartment. 

He found you in bed, fast asleep. You looked pale, a shiny gleam of sweat on your brow. He frowned, feeling your forehead, and swore. You were burning up. 

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut even tighter. “Az?”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, stroking your cheek.

Scrunching your nose, you mumbled, “I don’t feel good.”

“I can tell,” he murmured. “One second, I’ll be right back,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before he went to your kitchen.

He came back with a glass of water and ibuprofen. “Can you sit up, baby?”

You opened your eyes slowly, then reached for his wrist, laser focused on your own hand as you touched him. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I thought I was hallucinating you,” you said matter-of-factly, your eyes sleepy.

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh, despite his concern. “Oh, wow. Okay, this is worse than I thought.”

He set the water and medicine on the bedside table, then climbed into bed with you, sitting against the headboard, then gently pulling you to a sitting position, settling you between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. You groaned, leaning your head back against him, too.

“Drink this,” he said softly, holding the cup in front of you, his other hand resting on your thigh. 

“I don’t like water without ice,” you mumbled.

“I know. If you’d open your eyes, you’d see the ice in the glass.”

After a moment, you said, “Oh.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as you took the cup from his hand, taking a few sips. 

“Take this,” he said, holding two ibuprofen in front of you. 

You swallowed them without argument, leaning back against him like it took great effort just to do that.

“You wanna lay back down?” He asked.

“Please,” you said quietly. 

He shifted, easing you back against the pillows as gently as he could. “Anything else I can do?”

“I’m too hot,” you grumbled. 

He rifled through your drawers, pulling out shorts and a tank top for you before sliding your pajama pants and your t-shirt off. Getting the new clothes on you was more effort than he had anticipated. He wasn’t used to putting your clothes on.

You let out a satisfied sigh though, when you had changed. 

He refilled your water glass and set it on the table before he slid into bed next to you, holding you in his arms. 

“You don't have to stay,” you mumbled.

“Don't be stupid,” he said, brushing the hair off your face. “Of course I'm staying.”

“I love you,” you muttered, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“I love you, too,” he said, kissing your head softly. “Go to sleep.”

It was a long night, not only because it started around 7. Azriel barely slept. He was too busy feeling your forehead, bringing you cold towels, willing your fever to go down. 

By the morning, you seemed to be doing a bit better, but still not back to normal. 

You mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Hmm?” he asked, tilting your chin up so he could hear you. 

“Shower?” you asked, your eyes finally opening and focusing on him. 

He kissed the top of your head before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your bathroom. 

It was the least sexy shower he had ever taken. You were slumping over, leaning against him to stay upright. He had one arm looped around you, running the soap over your body with his other hand. 

It worried him that you could hardly hold yourself up. 

He had watched you like a hawk all morning until, a few hours later, still slumped over in your bed, you said, “What time is it?”

He checked his phone. “Almost 11.”

“Shit,” you said, sitting up, grabbing for your own phone. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You stood up, looking exhausted. “I have to go to class.”

Raising an eyebrow, he watched as you looked around for your backpack. “You’re kidding, right? You can barely sit up for fifteen minutes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, a little frantically. “This professor is strict, I can’t miss any notes.”

He stood up, crossing over to you, settling his hands on your shoulders so you’d stop and look at him. “Sweetheart, you need to stay here and rest.”

You shook your head, your eyes welling with tears. “I can’t, Az, I have to go.”

Heart breaking for you, his hands moved to your cheeks. “Baby, you can miss one class. You know you can’t go like this.”

You slumped back down on the bed, exhausted. “I know,” you said, your voice breaking. “But this class is so much work. If I miss one class, I’ll be so behind.”

Azriel sat next to you, helping you lay back down in your bed. “Do you know anybody in the class? I can go get the notes for you.”

You swallowed, then shook your head lightly. “No. I don’t know anybody who would give me the notes.”

“You sure?” He asked. “Nobody?”

Sighing, you settled back against the pillows. “Claire is the only person in the class that I know,” you said quietly. 

His stomach dropped. He hadn’t thought about Claire in a long time, hadn’t seen her in almost a year, not since the party that nearly ruined your life, and his. 

“I can ask her,” he said quietly.

“No.”

“If you’re this worried about it, I’ll ask her,” he said soothingly, running his hand back and forth on your leg.

“She won’t give them to you,” you grumbled. 

The hurt in your voice, in your eyes, made his heart crack. He knew you were remembering it all, all the hurt that he and Claire had caused last year. “Let me try? For you?”

You looked into his eyes, studying him. Finally, you said quietly, “Okay.”

Azriel would do anything for you. This proved it. Claire was the last person that he ever wanted to see. 

He would convince her to give you those notes. He didn’t know how, but he would figure it out. 

You had given Azriel the room number for your class, and he lingered outside just before it ended, waiting for class to let out. 

When Claire walked out, he cleared his throat. She turned to him, her smile positively feline. “Azriel. I haven’t seen you around this year.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said shortly. “I need a copy of the lecture notes from today.”

She raised her eyebrow. “The bookworm’s got you running errands when she skips class now?”

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped. “Are you going to give me the notes, or not?”

Claire looked at Azriel, studying him. “Why should I?”

“You owe her. This is the least you can do,” he said, not trying to hide the edge in his voice. 

She shook her head, incredulously. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, she does. And she’s half delirious with a fever right now, but she’s still stressed enough about these notes that I’m here, talking to you. So, give me the notes.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his harsh tone. She looked at him for a beat longer before, wordlessly, she took her notebook out, flipped to the most recent page, and handed it to him. 

He took a picture of it with his phone, then handed it back to her. “Thanks, Claire.”

Without another word, he turned on his heels, going back home to you. 

You were asleep when he let himself back into your apartment, and he was thankful to see a little more color in your face than when he had left. 

He closed the door behind him, and your eyes opened slowly, a faint smile spreading on your face when you saw him. 

“How’d it go?” 

Azriel smiled, showing you the picture of the notes on his phone, before texting it to you. 

You grinned, “Wow. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

He laughed, his heart thundering in his chest at your words. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “And you’re mine.”

--- 

“Fucking hell,” Azriel said, his eyes trailing down your body. “That’s what you’re wearing today?” 

“What?” you asked, looking down at your sundress. “You don’t like it?”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. He kissed down your neck, nipping lightly. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you.”

You giggled, heat running through you at his touch. “If you hadn’t made dinner reservations, I would say that we should skip date night, but…”

He groaned, threading his fingers through your hair and kissing you deeply. “Why’d I have to think ahead and be responsible?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with me,” you sighed as he continued kissing you. 

“Impossible,” he said happily, peppering kisses all over your face. 

All throughout dinner, Azriel’s eyes were boring into yours, his eyes dark with lust, his leg brushing yours under the table, his hand holding yours. 

It was maddening.

As soon as you were back in your apartment, Azriel bent you over your kitchen table, flipping your skirt up before smacking your ass lightly. 

He growled as he slid your panties down your legs, immediately putting his mouth on you, sucking hard.

You groaned, clinging to the table, focusing on keeping yourself upright just as much as you were focusing on the feel of him devouring you.

When he moaned against you, your legs started trembling. “Az, I need you inside me,” you panted. 

He stood up immediately, and you shivered as you heard him undo his belt, dropping his pants, pulling off his shirt. 

“Fuck,” he moaned through gritted teeth as he entered you completely with one powerful thrust. He pounded into you in hard, fast movements, his thighs slapping against your ass over and over again. 

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the feeling of him inside you. 

He wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling gently, his other hand gripping your waist tightly. 

You whimpered, but as he sped up his pace, slamming into you even harder, you let out an involuntary shriek. 

“That’s it, scream for me, baby,” he growled. 

So, you did.

---

You sighed, resting your head on your arms for a moment. Finals were quickly approaching and you were exhausting yourself. 

A knock on your door made your heart leap. There’s only one person who would show up without warning. 

There was a newfound energy, a bounce in your step as you opened the door to find Azriel on the other side, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled, offering the flowers to you. 

“What are these for?” you asked, your heart thundering in your chest. 

He leaned down to kiss you. “Figured you’re driving yourself insane with studying by now,” he said, smiling. “And also because I love you.”

You beamed, rising to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I love you. Thank you, Az, this is so sweet.” 

Wandering into the kitchen to get a vase, you sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming up behind you, pulling you into him once the flowers were settled on the table. 

You shrugged. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” He asked, his brow furrowed with concern. 

You couldn't help but smile, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “Not unless you want to do my homework. Or figure out what I should do this summer.”

‘What are you thinking for the summer?” He said.

“I don't know. I want to stay close by…” you trailed off, smiling at him. “There's kinda this guy I want to spend time with as much as I can.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you. “So, stay close by. What is there to figure out?”

“My lease is up at the end of the semester,” you said, sadly. “And everything in my budget is pretty much booked.”

“Well,” he said softly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “What if you moved in with me?”

Your eyes widened, your heart pounding. “Really? Do you think we're ready for that?”

“I mean, we spend all of our time together already. All of our nights,” he said, shifting to press a kiss to your forehead. “I know that I'm more in love with you than I could have ever imagined,” he smiled. “If it's not what you want, that's okay. But, I think it could be kinda great.”

You pictured it, living with Azriel, sharing your life with him in that way. “I think it would be really great,” you beamed up at him.

His face lit up, his eyes shining. “Yeah?”

“Let's do it,” you said.

He grinned, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, his deep laugh bouncing off the walls. “I love you,” he murmured, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “I can't wait for the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart soared, your knees weak. “Me either, Az.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02

Want to see more? Check out part 3!

[venusbyline]

Birthday ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 19, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x sex worker!reader x Derek Morgan x Aaron Hotchner

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: foursome FMMM

— summary: Morgan hires a prostitute to her finally take his best friend's virginity.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 19th day, female!reader, virgin!Reid, shy!Reid, foursome (female/male/male/male), oral (male receiving), loss of virginity, praise kink, cowgirl position, handjob (male giving), Moreid, age gap (older men/older woman/younger man), birthday present, prostitution, drunk sex, rough kissing, orgy, corruption kink, implied/referenced cheating, infidelity, light overstimulation, breast worship, butt worship, nipple play, minor Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner, bisexual(?)!Reid, bisexual!Morgan, married!Hotch, Lila Archer Mentioned, minor Spencer Reid x Lila Archer, ambiguous/open ending, curse words, sub!Reid, dom!Morgan, dom!Hotch, switch!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"You're gonna love your birthday present, Pretty Boy."

That's what Morgan said to Spencer after his birthday party. He was finally becoming more of an adult, gaining more respect from the team. Everything was going perfectly. Now, Spencer Reid was no longer just a shy and genius little boy, he was also proving to be a man worthy of working in the BAU, not just because of his extremely intelligent brain.

Reid was not as shy as before, he was slowly loosening up. His germophobia was also getting better and better. Everything was going well. He was maturing.

However, he still had his virginity intact.

The entire BAU was surprised when Spencer accidentally confessed about his lack of sexual experience during his birthday party. It was a shock to everyone, even though it was so obvious. The team thought he would have at least one experience or another for the roster, but the fact that he entered college as a teenager had ruined everything. Even though he was handsome as hell now, Spencer was a complex person whose brain worked too fast for anyone to even try to fully understand, no girl never had much patience to flirt with him for more than a few days, and his excessive shyness did not do much for his situation. The few kisses he had already exchanged with some girls had never gone further. The only time he felt tempted to continue had been with Lila Archer, which did not happen.

Spencer did not plan on telling anyone about his virginity. It was a shameful matter that he would rather keep secret forever. If it were not for the alcohol consumed during the night, he might never have confessed. None of his friends would know about this part of his life. If it were not for the whiskey, he would probably remain a virgin forever.

"F-Fuck. I can't..." Reid whimpered like a pathetic little boy as he squirmed in his seat, clenching his hands into fists and arching his head back, eyes closed and lips pink and already swollen from biting them. "Her mouth is so good..."

Morgan laughed at the sight of his best friend becoming a noisy mess every time you on your knees in front of him masterfully sucked on the tip of his cock. The boy's moans echoed in the room and went straight to Morgan's cock.

"How do you feel?" Morgan asked Reid, stroking his friend's brown hair as he finally opened his eyes, biting his lip again and trying to give a concentrated answer, but it went from tearful moans, which caused a chuckle from both Morgan and Hotch, who was just watching the scene. "You should try to have fun with us."

"Men aren't my thing, much less the kid one there." Hotch grumbled and Spencer pouted his lips sadly, giving his boss his puppy eyes.

It was Morgan's turn to roll his eyes, pulling Spencer's hair back a little to lick his neck, his teeth nibbling on the soft, vulnerable skin, causing Spencer to start to lift his hips desperately with his cock inside your mouth, in a desperate attempt to reach orgasm faster. "See, sweetheart? You're doing amazing."

Morgan used his free hand to stroke your hair, your eyes shining at him in confirmation, before you turned to Spencer, letting go of his cock when you noticed he was going to cum any moment ago. The big sad eyes on Reid's face caused laughter between you and the other two agents.

"Relax, kid. If you cum inside her mouth now, you won't be able to fuck her tight pussy anytime soon." It was Hotch who muttered a little grumpily, trying to hide the slightly sadistic smirk when he saw the tears of despair running down the genius' face.

Morgan gestured for you to stand up, your body covered by only a white lace panties that seemed to be tucked into your ass, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Hotch and Morgan bit their lips, while Spencer whimpered, trying to squirm in the seat so he could touch you. He had never touched a woman's breasts or ass before.

Hotch scoffed when he saw the pleading in Spencer's face. "Looks like someone is very eager."

Morgan followed Hotch's gaze, diverting his attention from your ass for a while so he could watch the younger boy's despair, enjoying it. "I guess you should stop his suffering for a bit. His brain is gonna break if you don't let him fuck you soon."

Morgan's suggestion made you laugh. "Virgins..." You rolled your eyes playfully, but it caused a sad pout from Reid, too confused and desperate to understand that it was nothing more than a teasing. As soon as you took off the lace fabric and threw it to Hotch, you heard him growl. He did not like prostitutes and had been completely against hiring one for Spencer to lose his virginity. But Morgan had convinced him. At first, he had said he would just watch, but the moment you wrapped the condom around Spencer's cock and gently fitted it in, his mind went into a frenzy.

That was one of the hottest scenes Hotch had ever seen. The youngest of the team crying with so much pleasure after having his cock stuck in a wet pussy for the first time. Your ass shaking every time you bounced on him, your own hands cupping your breasts and staring into Spencer's submissive gaze, those beautiful eyes filled with tears. The way Morgan grabbed Spencer by the neck, distracting him from watching your pretty breasts for a while, while now he felt his thin lips being crushed by Morgan's mouth with an aggressive kiss, his hand going down the older agent's pants by instinct.

Hotch had not liked that plan at all. He thought it was absurd. He did not like prostitutes. He did not like it when two BAU members got involved, even casually. This should all be disgusting and repulsive.

However, when Morgan and Spencer were still kissing, Morgan's bit heavy hand crushing your breast while Spencer's slender fingers played with your other nipple, it all became too much. Every moan that left your lips with the overstimulation caused by your breasts being used or by your wet pussy riding non-stop on Spencer's virgin cock. The whimpers that came out of Spencer at the new and incredible sensation, in addition to Morgan's intense kisses. The growls that Morgan let out while Spencer hangjob him with an inexperienced and almost stupid way, which made everything even more perfect.

Hotch should hate this and go away, go back to his wife and pretend he did not see any of it. The problem was, he knew that would be impossible. He wanted to continue, he wanted to feel everything too. Feeling his sex life a little more interesting in all the chaos that was his career and his marriage.

"I'm serious. I really don't like guys." Hotch warned again with an uncomfortable face, almost as uncomfortable as the tightness in his pants. You, Morgan, and even Spencer shared a few soft chuckles when Hotch snorted and took off his tie, unbuttoning his white dress shirt and throwing it to the floor before grabbing you by the neck, kissing your skin while you continued to ride Spencer.

"So that won't be a problem, Sir. I'm not a guy, I'm just a whore. All of you three can use me however you want." You scoffed and Hotch huffed, nodding then and licking your earlobe, his hands moving your hips to encourage you to go faster on top of Reid.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[repulsiveliquidation]

Rain || Alexia Putellas

warnings : smut (18+), somnophilia (consensual sex while asleep), anal sex, rimming, strap-on sex, choking, spanking, fingering, rough sex)

a/n : hii! just a little something i whipped up while at work today :)

There was rain pouring down outside, the sun hiding behind dark clouds. The pitter-patter of raindrops slowly begged Alexia to go back to sleep but she fought hard, the warmth beside her was way more tempting than a few more hours of sleep. 

She scooted over, arm slipping under the sheets to pull at the smaller form that was softly snoring beside her. She felt the heat of your skin, chest rising and falling steadily in your sleep. 

Soft kisses along your nape and shoulder lulled you out of your snooze, a grumpy groan already dragging through your voicebox. 

“Ale, it’s Sunday, go back to sleep…”

“Sí, sí, sleep.”

The captain wasn’t going to let you off that easily. She’d gotten back late from Sevilla last night and crashed almost immediately, staying awake just long enough to shovel food into her mouth. Now, with the whole day to waste with you, she didn’t want to miss a second of “personal time.” 

You’re snoring again, this time much louder and much clearer. Alexia sat up looking annoyed, staring at your back that faced her. Her eyes, having the mind of their own, wandered along the shape of you. There was a little skin showing along your back where your shirt was riding up, toned back teasing her intentionally. 

“Fuck mi amor, how am I supposed to resist you?” 

Alexia, in her stroke of genius, pulls the covers off gently and climbs out of bed. She tiptoes to the closet, rummaging quietly for her strap. She finds it and quietly runs back to get it on. 

Alexia stands beside you, clothes stripped off and strap hanging low from her hips. Very carefully, Alexia pulls the blanket off you, the pattering of rain now much softer as it stops. You’ve got the prettiest lace underwear on, a deep maroon that was secretly her favorite. 

You were fully on your stomach now, your snores an abbreviated version of what they were earlier, muffled by your pillows. 

Alexia lifted your matching lace top, the ruffled edges seemingly turned her on even more. There was a pause when you shifted under her and she quickly stood on her knees, taking her weight off you. You simply pushed a leg up towards your chest and sighed, nuzzling your face into the pillow. Alexia gently sat back down, softly kissing your exposed back as she fought to keep her hips from involuntarily grinding into you. 

“Mmh, you’ve always been so fucking beautiful princesa, even when you were sleeping.”

She slowly pulled your panties to the side, exposing your already soaking cunt. Her mouth waters, jaw aching as she scoots down to taste you. 

Her tongue is warm and flat against your pussy, lapping gently at your sticky folds. Her eyes make sure you’re still asleep, fingers very very gently pulling your thick thighs apart. You give Alexia no indication of knowing what she was doing, so she gets a little brave. She spreads your ass and watches your asshole pucker at her, practically asking her to have a taste. 

When she does, she watches as your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. You always were a little anal whore, the feeling of her tongue on your ass never failed to drive your arousal up. 

Alexia spat on your ass, thumb gently rubbing it in. It caught on the edge a few times and Alexia had to stop herself from clenching her own thighs together. Your pussy was dripping, the gentle throb of your heartbeat was delightfully obvious to Alexia. 

“Ale…?” 

“Bon dia, princesa,” Alexia whispered sexily, helping as you gently turned onto your back.

“Más, por favor,” you whined, legs draping wide open over her shoulders. Alexia grinned maniacally, nodding gently at your sexy request. 

A dainty finger slips into Alexia’s mouth, the noisy slurping that reaches your ears only makes the throb between your legs all the more intense.  

She pushes it into your ass gently, gorgeous eyes meeting yours as she gently fingers you open. You feel the stretch just a little more than usual, a pleasant ache plastering a satisfied grin on your face. Alexia pulls away to suck on her fingers a little more, pushing two digits into you when they’re wet enough. Your hips grind down into her slowly, fingers gathering a little spit from your mouth to use to play with your clit. Alexia audibly groans, watching as you double your pleasure. 

She gets that manic smile on her face again, pulling her fingers out of your ass before kneeling between your legs. You’re still playing with your clit when her fingers jam themselves into your mouth. You’re taken aback and gag loudly, Alexia’s eyes rolling into her head when you keen. 

Alexia fingers your mouth while you touch yourself, your fingers aching to slip into your pussy and mimic her fingers in your mouth. You can taste yourself on her fingers and that only spurs you on, your first orgasm building up hard and fast. 

She pulls her fingers away from your lips when you begin to gurgle your warning, soaking wet fingers expertly finding your pussy before slamming in to send you into your first orgasm. 

“Ale!” you moan, muscles spasming in pleasure. 

“Sí, buena chica,” Alexia praises, fingertips jabbing your sweet spot with no mercy. 

Alexia doesn’t bother to give you a little heads up, pulling away for less than a minute to prep her strap. She lubes it up and smears the rest on your asshole, pulling your thighs over hers before she’s pushing into you. 

“Taking me so well, beautiful,” she coos, thumbing softly at your swelling clit. 

“Ale,” you beg, “Ale, por favor.”

“Sí, te lo daré, cariño, I’ll give it to you.”

Give it to you she does. Her hips pound up into you, shoulders barely touching the bed. Your long manicured fingers can’t find material to hold onto. Blood rushes to your head and you can feel the world of pleasure consume you. 

Alexia bends you in half, thighs pressed tight against your chest. Her skin slaps yours, hips thrusting into your ass rough and hard. Her teeth are gritted together, eyes dark and lustrous. 

“Is this what you wanted, cariño?” 

“Fuck, yes!” 

Alexia turns you on your side, pounding right into you deeper this way. She takes a breast in her mouth, suckling hard as she fondles the other. You can barely moan, everytime you relish in a sensation she gives you a new one to drool about. 

“Hold yourself open, my pretty little slut,” Alexia leans by your ear to whisper, watching as you do as she says. She lubes her left fingers up just a touch, warming the gel up before slipping them into your pussy.

Now stuffed in two places, Alexia’s hips thrust in while her fingers pull out, repeating this sequence like a well-oiled machine. It was utterly dizzying; you were seeing stars. 

The captain, seemingly impressed by her own handiwork, now moved her freehand wherever else she could. She dragged her nails along your tummy, kneading your breasts one after the other. She gave them a few love taps that rattled them deliciously, making her eyes roll into her head just a little before they reached their final destination. 

Your neck loved Alexia’s hands. They wrapped around your throat so perfectly. Her thumb and index finger always pressed the right spot to deprive you of just enough air to give your vision a few black spots. 

“Fuck!” you choke, the tug behind your naval intensified as Alexia fucked you harder and faster. 

“Coming, my love?” 

“Can’t Ale, please–”

“Come, slut,” Alexia spat, hips pounding you into the mattress so hard the frame was shaking. 

You come and she lets go of your neck, the breath of fresh air that fills your lungs somehow intensifies your orgasm. You’re shaking and moaning her name, body trembling and twitching from the shocks. 

Alexia draws the hottest bath she can, gently climbing in with you in her arms. The steaming water soothes your aching limbs, bringing relief. 

She holds you close and leaves the softest kisses along your shoulder and neck. You giggle and settle into her arms, feeling safe and sound. 

“I missed you,” you mutter after a while, looking up at her as she smiles.

“I missed you too, princesa,” she whispers, tilting your head a little more to kiss you. It’s soft and tender, filling both your hearts with love. 

“I love you,” she whispers when she pulls away, strong arms wrapping tighter around you as the sound of more rain fills the room. 

[lovverletters]

I've been scrolling through your blog, you've got some pretty cute stuff. I loved the serial killer piece. Food for thought, just a little treat- yandere hacker. Serially online genius who falls in love with a small time content creator, and would go on revenge streaks to try and "protect" His darling from trolls

ERROR404˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

A/N : i miss 707. have some yan hacker instead.

T/W : yandere theme, mentions of doxxing, mentions of harassment, invasion of personal information

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

" Thanks for the 20 dollar donation 'L3M0NP1E' !! "

[name] thanked the donor with a grateful smile. Being a smaller content creator, receiving donation is quite a rare feat especially with the small size of audience they currently have.

They had only begun making content a few months ago out of boredom under the name of [alias name]. It started with them posting videos of gameplay commentary video, that by a stroke of luck gained traction.

Viewers find their awkward and bizarre commentary that's paired by theirㅡ admittedly horribleㅡ skills in video gaming entertaining and stucked around for more.

[name] was grateful of their supportive and positive followings, they've heard countless horror stories of small content creators being harassed by trolls due to lack of moderation.

They're thankful of the fact that they have yet to encounter any and hope that it'll stay that way.

" Chat, should I go in that room? I feel like if I do, the killer would corner me like a bully asking for my lunch money " [name] turned to read their live chat to seek for the viewer's opinion.

" I see plenty of 'Yes', if I die here it's on you okay~ " They snorted before moving their character to enter the sketchy room only to be killed by the killer the moment they step foot inside of it.

" What did I say, chat?! Like a fucking loser I not only got my lunch money stolen but I was also given a wedgies by that motherfucker! " They hysterically laughed as the chat goes crazy.

It took them a moment to settle down from their fit of laughter and resumed the game. As they were playing through it and talking to the viewers, they noticed a familiar name popping up on the fast paced chat.

edgelord404 : hello. I had a business to attend to earlier, what did I missed?

A smile bloomed on [name]'s feature seeing the message in their chat. This particular viewerㅡ edgelord404ㅡ was one of their viewer they recognized from their early days when the view count barely cracked a hundred on their postings.

" edgelord404 hey! welcome to the stream, we're trying to break into this old granny's bank account and steal her retirement funds "

" Not in real life of course. Don't be silly! " They clarified by emphasizing their words.

edgelord404 : sounds illegal.

edgelord404 : I can help. I got experiences.

[name] began wheezing from how much they laughed. True to their username, edgelord404 loves to spout the most edgy and emo things. They have to admit, it did lights up their days from edgelord404 attempt at humor.

As they were about to respond to edgelord404's comments, they noticed the chat being flooded by less than pleasant comments. They immediately recognized it as to be the work of internet trolls trying to get a rise out of the creator they're harassing.

Before they could attempt at defusing the situation, all of the comments instantly disappeared. [name] and their viewers were confused but the latter assumed that [alias name] got everything under controlled and thought nothing of it.

peachesandcrem : what just happened💀

edgelord404 : you were saying?

" Uhㅡ yeah. Anyways as I was sayingㅡ "

That was odd. Huh.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Saehoon leaned back against his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. He watches [alias name], his favourite content creator playing a random game they had interest in.

The stream went along smoothly until a minor turbulence appeared but nothing that he couldn't deal with. Although, he isn't entirely done with the trolls who had invaded his beloved's chat and tried to cause a ruckus.

He had encountered [alias name]'s page a few months ago, right when they had just started with zero following. Saehoon decided to watch them to kill some time but didn't anticipated for him to fall for them instantly.

It could've been the fact that he was the only one watching them failed at the same obstacle over and over againㅡ that it felt intimate. Their bizarre humour and commentary only adds up to their charms that made him fall even deeper.

It didn't take quite a while for Saehoon to dig up information behind the content creator whom had captivated him. Being a genius hacker himself, it is something he was used to doing on a dailyㅡ for work purposes obviously.

Within a few clicks, he has the entirety of [alias name]'s information in his palm. Such as their real name, [name]. Their location, acquaintances, friends, family, their backgrounds and even more.

" [name] .. " Saehoon uttered their name once he obtained their information. It sounded perfect, the way it rolls on his tongueㅡ they were perfect for him.

As time passes, he noticed them slowly gaining popularity and he couldn't help but feel proud of how much they had grown. Admittedly, he was somewhat responsible for pushing out their contents by messing with the algorithm.

Though, he would never take credit for their success of course, he just aided them and the rest is purely their hardwork.

Although he isn't keen on sharing [name] with others, he'd comfort himself with the thought that only he knows such intimate knowledge of [name] that none of their other viewers or fans knows.

Another annoyance that came with [name]'s success is the incessant waves of trolling that comes with it. Normally, he wouldn't care but if it involves his beloved [name]? they best count their lucky stars that he only leaked their doxxes online and not done worse.

Saehoon believed that [name] should invest in some moderator but he's aware that they couldn't afford to pay them. Perhaps he should offered himself someday, that way he could not only openly protects [name] from internet trollsㅡ he could also be closer to them.

Speaking of trolls, he contemplate on what he should do as a revenge for their pathetic attempt at harassing [name]. He'd leaked their personal information as usual of course but he's feeling quite spiteful today, perhaps he should dig up their embarassing past and posted it onlineㅡ or he could post a selfie of theirs that had never been seen before on a forum board.

They'll pay the price of crossing path with [name] and in turn him as well.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[stairain]

Brushstrokes.

You weren’t entirely sure what being Spencer’s muse meant, but it certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

Warnings: Dom Spencer, Sub Reader, vaginal penetration, foreign object penetration.

WC: 1.5K

You’re not exactly sure why you agreed to this, but you were happy to be a part of one of Spencer’s new hobbies nonetheless.

Your boyfriend had recently taken up painting, and he decided his latest subject and newest project was going to be a portrait of you.

So there you were, sprawled out on your living room couch in nothing but a barely visible slip dress.

He was deep in concentration as his deep eyes shifted back and forth from your body to the canvas. 

“Are muses allowed to talk?”

You ask, knowing he had asked you not to move, but being a human mannequin was harder than it looked.

Spencer glances up at you briefly with a small smile as he paints the curve of your jaw, seemingly in a trance as he creates the image.

“Not really.” 

He was nearly finished anyways, so it wasn’t like you were messing anything up, but he’d never pass up the opportunity to tease you.

“But I think I can make an exception for my muse.”

His gaze slowly lowers from your face as he paints, his eyes lingering on the curve of your waist for a long moment as you readjust your body. 

“For someone who's just laying there, you keep distracting me, in a dress that hardly covers a thing..”

At the teasing tone in his voice, your lips part in a baffled scoff. 

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me to wear this and you’re the one who told me to get in this position.”

His grin only broadens as he sets his brush down and lays it on the nearby table, slowly working over to you and getting right up next to you on his knees. 

Spencer reaches out a paint stained hand to touch your leg, but you jolt away before he can. 

“Hey, you’re supposed to be painting.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you jokingly scold him.

“I’m almost done, I just need to make sure I’ve got the right angles to properly capture my muse.”

He says, continuing his advancements as he runs the tips of his rough fingers along your soft thighs. The feeling has you shivering, as it never did take much for him to turn you on. 

But it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he’s not being entirely honest with his intentions, and you watch through lust lidded eyes as he reaches towards his canvas and work station.

His nimble fingers quickly grasp a clean plastic paintbrush, one with a thicker base that would be used for much larger, and broader strokes. 

With the snap of his fingers, your focus turns back to him immediately, and he grasps your chin in his fingers. 

“Now be a good muse, would you?”

Wordlessly you nod, looking his face up and down for any sign of what that might entail. 

As he lets go of your face and leans back, the hand holding the brush nudges at your knees. They were laid on top of each other as you were still in your previous position.

But that wouldn’t do any longer. As soon as he bumps his knuckles into your legs, you’re spreading them as wide as the couch allows you to.

He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly drags the tip of the paintbrush from the tops of your knees down to the folds of your uncovered sex. Your body jumps at the feeling, but you still lay there pliant for him.

The dark plastic rod swirls against your slick wetness, and despite using the opposite end, he could’ve been fooled if this was its intended use. 

He breaks your shared gaze to drag the brush downward, closer and closer. 

Your lips quiver as he inches towards your hole, and you barely manage to stutter out your words. 

“Y-You’re supposed to be painting..”

Spencer’s eyes snap up to yours immediately and it makes your throat run dry. The corners of his soft pink lips curl upwards, and he looks back down to where your cunt invites him in. 

“And you are supposed to be quiet.”

He says as he sinks the end of the paintbrush into your pussy. With the intrusion, it leaks onto the soft couch beneath you.

You throw your head back against the arm and fight the urge to entirely swallow the brush whole. 

The object, although not nearly as thick or long as your counterpart, sinks deeper into your walls, the cold plastic quickly burning hot with the tight heat that surrounds it. 

Spencer’s got his fingers gripping where metal meets bristle, and watches in a crude fascination as he begins to fuck you with the end of a paintbrush. 

As he pushes it deeper, you lift your head and look up at him, but he’s nowhere close to meeting your gaze.

Instead, his hazel eyes are trained on how every time he withdraws the brush from your soaked pussy, a thick layer of your arousal coated the dark plastic. 

He licked his lips and you could hear just how heavily he was breathing as he pushed it back into your tight slit. 

It sinks all the way into you, without any trace of resistance. He’s careful not to be too rough with it, and it becomes clear he’s not going slow to torture you, but instead to admire you. 

The way your soft walls flutter around the paintbrush as if it were second nature, and the way you’re practically leaking a puddle underneath you. It’s all too much for him to be spoiled with at once.

Under his breath, he curses out gentle profanities. And his unoccupied hand slowly reaches down towards the front of his trousers. 

There’s wet paint on his palm and it smears against light fabric as he cusps the heavy bulge filled in his pants. He gives it a hearty squeeze and lets out a strained sigh of relief. 

Your eyes dart down to his dirty hands palming his aching cock. And your soft lips twitch into a nervous smile. 

“You’re getting distracted..” 

Voice quivering and legs shaking. 

Spencer doesn’t even have to look up at you to know the smug smirk adorned on your face. He simply nods once.

You notice the shining gloss in his eyes, a shine that holds fascination and adoration. 

“Yeah.. You don’t mind, do you?”

You shake your head immediately, as if either of you possessed the immense power it would take to tear him away from you. 

He nods back and gives himself one last squeeze before he removes his hand from himself and places it on you instead.

His thumb finds solace against your inner thigh, reaching out to gently spread your glistening pussy. 

Like a true artist, he studied his subject in the most effective way possible. 

Spencer thrusts the brush in and out of you, stroking it as deep as you’ll take it. The hard tip stamps into your spot repeatedly and your entire body jolts with the intensity. 

“S-Spence..”

You moan out, feeling downright filthy and pathetic that you’re about to cum because of a paintbrush.

The tops of his fingers turn white with how tightly he’s holding the brush, and he’s biting the thin skin right off his lip. 

His thumb moves to rub gentle circles at your clit, the pressure on your sensitive button being what sends you right off the edge. 

As he shoves the tip right against that gummy spot that has you seeing stars, you’re leaking a sticky sweet substance around the rod. 

Your jaw goes slack in a silent whimper, and it’s not a moment too soon before he’s pulling the paintbrush out of you entirely and running his pink tongue along the soaked plastic. 

With pleasure drunk eyes, you watch as he swirls the muscle around until every last taste bud is coated with an essence that’s simply you.

The sight causes a spark in your stomach, feeling downright worshipped with the way he so desperately licked up your release. 

Once he’s sure he’s cleaned it thoroughly, he flips the brush around. It’s a sudden change in sensations when the bristles of the brush tap against your sensitive folds. 

An accident, you think. 

But just when you thought he’s had his fun, he drags the brush against your cunt, collecting the trails of slick that coated your plush skin. 

The substance soaks into the toe of the brush, cascading down each individual bristle like the highest quality of paint. 

And when he’s certain he’s collected enough, he brings the defiled brush to canvas and runs it along the surface, covering each square inch of his painted muse. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as he finishes the final touch of his painting. He attempts to capture the glow and shine of your person the best he could. 

It’s a disgusting and endearing act of artistry, using the essence of his beloved as a smooth varnish to his finished masterpiece that was entirely you.