#seeing her this happy and knowing what was to come

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Nadezh' Interview

Summary: After Nadezh previous identity as the Firebreather, notorious Supervillain, was revealed, she thought she’d lose everything. She’s never been so happy to be wrong.

You can read Nadezh' first story (HERE)

--------------------------.

It’s decided that Nadezh will work in the finance department of Hero Force. She hates to leave her civilian job and her coworkers seeing the success of her budget fully bloom, but the other option is wearing the power suppressors 24/7, and their power frequency vibrates through her engagement ring in a way that reminds her of a bee buzzing, and she won’t take the ring off so.

The interview is a formality but they make her do it anyway. She prepares for it over the course of seven days, making Gannon rehearse every hypothetical question with her until the last minute.

Until the last minute meaning on the drive to Hero Force for the interview.

“There is a discrepancy in the packaging budget,” Gannon reads. He’s used to her driving and doesn’t flinch when she merges too quickly, and a chorus of Chicago drivers chastise her loudly. “There is a flat rate for three different sizes of package. According to the average order value and average product mix, packaging should be $3.5k—Nadezh, Hero Force doesn’t have a commerce division, I don’t think this is necessary.”

Nadezh knows the rest of this question. What steps would you take to reconcile actual and planned? “Of course, there’s the option to conduct a forensic audit, however—”

“We do have a forensic finance department,” Gannon concedes, “but that’s not—”

“—first would be to observe the whole packaging process. While there is a flat rate for all three package sizes that doesn’t mean all orders are being packaged for efficiency—”

Gannon reaches for her knee, thinks better of it, considering her foot on the gas pedal, and diverts to her shoulder. He squeezes, and all of the tension in her back magically eases. “Babe. You’re already overqualified. You’re going to do great.”

They’ve already had this argument, so Nadezh doesn’t say Overqualified? It’s amazing they’re even letting me into a Hero Force building, I could be the President and I still wouldn’t be qualified considering my past. Instead, she says, “Right. Right, thanks. You’re right. Right.”

“Right,” Gannon says seriously.

“Right,” she says and takes the next exit.

“Riiiiiiight.”

By the time they pull into the parking garage, Nadezh is laughing at the increasingly bizarre ways Gannon says the word right. The word barely has meaning anymore, and she’s fairly certain that if anyone else heard Hero Zone sounding so goat-like, they’d send him to psych for an evaluation.

Nadezh gets out of the car first, hurrying before he can say anything else that will set her off.

“Go save the day,” she says. Her face hurts from smiling. She tosses him the keys over the roof of the car after she closes the door. “I can get the train back.”

Gannon rounds the bumper and presses them back into her hand. He kisses her forehead. “No public transport from HQ.”

She blinks, the spot his lips touched tingling. “Is that a rule?”

“Our house rule,” Gannon says. He smiles reassuringly at her. “Just a precaution. I know too many people who get made getting followed out of HQ.”

Gannon always explains himself even though she never asks. Her heart is racing at our house rules. They have house rules. They’re engaged. They’re going to get married. She lifts her chin for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses her.

Kissing Gannon is the closest she feels to her powers these days. The warmth that runs through her, the heat in her cheeks, the pounding of her heart – actually she takes it back. It’s not like her power at all. It’s better than her power.

“Break it up!” a man calls from across the parking garage.

Electricity shoots through Nadezh. She didn’t hear him come up behind her. She tries to pull away from Gannon, to turn and protect them, but his hands on her shoulders stop her. Her brain catches up a moment later. Gannon is relaxed, warm brown eyes still happy. The voice is familiar.

“It’s not goodbye yet,” another voice says grumpily. This time Nadezh recognizes the speaker. When her tension eases, Gannon lifts his hands long enough for her to turn and greet Flare. He drapes his arms over Nadezh’s shoulders. Flare’s eye twitches. “There’s, like, a whole elevator ride to go.”

“There’s cameras in the elevator,” Gannon says.

Nadezh still doesn’t know what to make of Gannon’s Hero team. Omit – the leader of the team – is decent. Fast, sound decisions on the field, always knows when to retreat, which is important when your team is made of B and C-rank heroes.  His power – to eliminate an object from the enemy’s perception during battle – makes her uneasy. Despite his openness with her, she can’t erase the suspicion that he’s using his powers on her from her mind.

She likes Flare. The woman is bright and bubbly, almost six inches shorter than Nadezh, with all the energy of a hummingbird. Though she’s stationed on Gannon’s team, she’s in high demand across the city. There aren’t many fliers out there, and although her dragonfly wings aren’t exactly subtle, she’s fast enough and strong enough to conduct recon across Lake Michigan. Flare keeps Gannon safe when he’s out saving the world. Nobody sneaks up on them with her around.

Mostly.

“Us singles are feeling left out,” Omit says and tries to drape an arm over Flare’s shoulders.

Flare flits away. “Interview today?” she asks Nadezh.

“Right,” Nadezh says.

Gannon’s burst of surprised laughter lasts all the way to Nadezh’s floor where he waves goodbye breathlessly.

Even with his mask obstructing the crow’s feet she loves, Nadezh savors the memory of his joy all the way to her interview.

----.

Agent Briston isn’t like any other agent Nadezh has ever seen. He’s in his sixties, round, bald, and wearing a sweater vest under his regulation suit jacket. She thinks there’s a reason agents like him are kept out of sight. He looks like an easy target—no. She doesn’t think about people as targets anymore. She means that he looks like the grandfather in a commercial about watches, the one who takes the vintage watch off of his own wrist to wrap it around the grandson’s with an air of gravity.

“This interview isn’t a guarantee, despite your…recommendations,” Agent Briston says the moment Nadezh sits down. His desk has nothing but a computer, a notepad, and a pen. Somehow the harried look on his face makes it seem cluttered with paper. “We don’t have the budget for many staff. We need to be selective.”

Nadezh resists the urge to pull at the Hero Force regulation mask on her face or the power suppressors around her wrists. Part of her agreement with Foresight was that she’d wear the cuffs whenever Gannon wasn’t with her. The blue glow feels ostentatious, and she hopes Agent Briston won’t turn her down based on them. “Understood, sir.”

“Briston,” Agent Briston says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Only the heroes call me sir. My staff calls me Briston.”

Nadezh nods. “I’m Nadezh Mel—”

“No last names, Nadezh,” Briston says. He pulls his glasses from a desk drawer and puts them on. He squints at his computer. “Now. Tell me.  Do you have accounting experience?”

“Yes, si—Briston.”

Briston’s thick white eyebrows raise and he abandons his computer to focus back on Nadezh. He seems skeptical. “Really?”

“I created the office budget for my last company,” Nadezh says. She has a better way to say this, she rehearsed this with Gannon— “My plan allowed for the purchase of new chairs and a copier.”

Briston stares at her. “You really have accounting experience.”

Did he not hear her? Or did she answer incorrectly? “I-I was also part of the team that allocated reinvestment funds—”

“Foresight’s recruits never have accounting experience.”

“—and payroll for over 500 employees—”

“Payroll!” Briston looks up at the ceiling. “She does payroll!”

“I—I’m sorry?” she says. She can’t read his tone. Is he disappointed or being sarcastic? She scrambles for her next interview answer. “I have a bachelor’s in accounting from Illinois State, but I plan to complete my master’s in the next five years—”

Briston makes a sound she’s only ever heard from frightened raccoons. “You’re hired,” Briston declares. He reaches over the desk to shake her hand. “I’ll draw up a counteroffer before noon.”

Confused, Nadezh shakes his hand. His grip is surprisingly strong. “Sir? The terms of my employment should already be in my file.” Foresight had made it clear she’d be starting at the bottom level of the pay scale.

“We aren’t paying my new director that,” Briston says. “We’ll start double that and see what they counter offer.”

“They? Aren’t you in charge of salary approvals?” Nadezh asks. Then, as his words sink in, “Director?!”

Briston beams at her. “Experience, a degree, and common sense! We’ll settle for 30% higher than the initial offer with a condition for an additional 10% at the next performance review.”

“Director,” Nadezh says. When Briston doesn’t answer, ignoring her in favor of typing feverishly, Nadesh says with surety, “You’re joking.”

Briston hums and doesn’t answer her.

“Right?”

----.

Briston isn’t joking.

Gannon takes a dazed Nadezh out for dinner and drinks to celebrate. The private room he reserves is in the back of a Japanese restaurant run by a former Superhero. There are flowers on the table, candles strategically placed around the room, soundproofing on the walls, and a chilled bottle of Nadezh's favorite white wine waiting. She processes all of this distantly. She makes Gannon read her employment contract between bites of sushi. Bemused, he dutifully announces her employed status and starting salary whenever she asks.

“Guess I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors about the department head,” Gannon says. Rather than surprised, his voice carries an element of relief. “You’re barely taking a salary cut with this.”

“Cut? This is a ten percent raise,” Nadezh hisses. She stares at her green tea. “Does Foresight know?” A jolt of sick fear floods with her. “I didn’t make Briston give me a raise, I swear!”

“Nadezh, of course you didn’t,” Gannon says. He reaches across the table to nudge at her clenched hands. Automatically, she unfurls them to reveal half-moon indents from her nails. He slides his palm against hers. “You deserve this.”

“But Foresight might think—”

“He won’t.” Gannon picks up his chopsticks with his left hand, content to let his right keep holding hers so that her dominant hand is free. He’s clumsier with them and frowns as he chases salmon roe around his plate. “Briston has almost unilateral say in the finance department. Nobody can sway him. He’s known for being short-tempered, cheap, and stubborn. I’m sure Foresight will just be grateful he finally hired someone.”

Nadezh narrows her eyes. ��You said you didn’t know the person interviewing me.”

“Oops?” Gannon finally catches the salmon roe under a bite of rice and pops it in his mouth. He chews innocently. “Did I?”

“Fess up.”

“It’s not like I know a lot. People say Briston fires more than he hires.” Gannon’s eyes shift to the side.  “Aaaand that he can be heard yelling whenever it’s time to calculate overtime expenses. Or whenever the armory submits their expense report. Or when the audit team comes back with city damage claims. Or when—”

Nadezh drops her head into her free hand, letting her long black hair hide her for a moment. She forgot that Hero Force accountants dealt with destroyed skyscrapers and medical leave for when you got your arms ripped off in a fight, not copiers and desk chairs. “You didn’t think to mention any of this before the interview?!”

“You were freaked out enough.” Gannon pauses in the way he does when he’s about to say what he’s really thinking so Nadezh doesn’t interrupt. She waits as he chews until he finally says, “I’m glad he bumped your salary. I was starting to feel guilty.”

Nadezh’s hand spasms around Gannon’s. “Guilty?”

“Yeah,” Gannon says. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I argued against making you leave your job. Said it made Hero Force the sort of organization everyone always accuses us of being. Overreaching and, well…cruel.”

“You didn’t tell me about that either.” Had he been thinking that this whole time? While she made him practice interview questions with her? Did he think she was forcing herself? The thought of Gannon feeling even a tenth of the gnawing guilt that lives inside her makes her want to throw up. Nadezh shakes her head and leans across the table. She’s glad for the private room and how it allows her to show him how his words affect her. “Babe, you don’t have anything—"

“I know how hard you worked for that job,” Gannon interrupts. He licks his lips. Now it’s his turn to stare at his tea. “Please, just…listen.”

Nadezh would do anything Gannon asked. She squeezes his hand again and fights the words bubbling up her throat like lava.

“We haven’t really talked since that day,” Gannon says. He’s a Hero; he makes himself look into her eyes. “I haven’t really talked. I’ve been afraid to. I know your past isn’t…isn’t good. I do. And I know that you don’t want to forget about it or pretend it doesn’t exist.”

She wants to, but she can’t. Like hunger and emptiness, she doesn’t think Gannon will ever understand the weight she carries from the harm she’s done. The screams she’d once reveled in now haunt her in ways she could never have guessed. But he’s talking to her, so she doesn’t explain. She listens.

“I feel like I’ve been making you give up everything for me,” Gannon confesses in a rush. He speaks faster as her eyes widen, like if he makes his sentences a big enough river, she won’t be able to dam it up. “Your first civilian job, your past, and your freedom to do whatever you want to do – because you could do anything, you really could – and even your powers.” He rubs his thumb over the underside of her wrist where the power suppressors sit during working hours. His face crumples. “Every morning, I will have to take you to put them on. It’s…I hate it. It feels like I’m abandoning you, or like I’m part of your punishment, or like I’m not being the partner you deserve.”

She starts, half rising from her seat. “Gannon! How could you—?”

His grip is strong on her hand, and he gestures for her to sit with a quick jerk of his chin. His eyes close tight. “Please, Nadezh.”

She quiets.

It takes him a long time to start speaking again. He remains quiet until he’s able to look her in the eyes again. “You…that day. The day you saved my and my team’s life.”

The day she thought her fairytale had come to an end. Even now, the memory of his blank eyes as she revealed the red and gold costume of the Firebreather, one of the world’s most notorious and deadly supervillains, follows her. The cold wind whipping across the ship’s deck, the pillars of ice gleaming in the sun, his team haltingly asking her if she was going to take over the boat…and his eyes. The pain that ripped through her when she realized she would lose him was worse than anything she’d ever experienced. It had made her realize that she’d been a shell for years until she met him, that she’d been nothing until he showed her a world where she could be someone. In that moment, she’d known that she’d wasted his time on a dead end. That their dream to get married would never be the same if it happened at all and she had robbed him in her greed.

But he remembers it as the day she saved his life rather than dooming his future.

“I became a hero to save people,” Gannon says. His lips thin. “How did I put it? That day at the diner? To share the relief of having the day saved.” His face twists in a way she can’t understand. “You must have thought I was so naïve.”

“No,” she says simply.

He raises their hands so he can kiss the back of hers. “Thank you. I think I was naïve. Being a hero seemed simple, looking at the world that way, like everyone wanted to be saved and, in turn, wanted to one day go on to save someone else. Every moment of salvation would get repaid. Good things would always happen to good people.”

Well, when he put it like that.

Gannon continues, “But when I saw you standing there, dressed as the Firebreather, being saved was…different. It was all different.” He swallows hard. “For the first time, I realized saving the day wasn’t so simple. You had to reveal your identity to do it. You had to put your freedom and everything you worked for on the sidelines. Even us. You were ready to do it even if it meant we never got the chance to be married. I could tell that you weren’t going to let that stop you. You were going to save the day.  Instead of being relieved, I felt afraid.”

A small noise of protest builds in Nadezh’s throat. “Afraid of me?”

“No!” Gannon’s eyes widen and he leans over the table. “No, never. Never, Nadezh. Even when that last fireball singed the toes of my boots, I didn’t flinch for a moment. I knew you would never hurt me.”

Nadezh’s laugh is watery. “So that’s why you threw out those boots.”

“Regulation is closed toe,” Gannon says gravely. He plays with her fingers. “I was afraid because I realized there was a cost that I wasn’t willing to pay, but you were.”

“I couldn’t let you die,” Nadezh says.

“I know.” Gannon clears his throat and adjusts his grip on her hand so that he can feel her pulse against his thumb. “I know. I’m not saying that’s wrong.  Just…it was hard, wasn’t it?” His brown eyes search hers. “You knew before you even left the apartment to find me that you were going to lose everything.”

“But I didn’t,” Nadezh points out.

“But that’s what you thought.”

She can’t deny that.

“Saving the day is easy when it’s just a job,” Gannon says. “That day, I realized that I’d never really been a hero. It was a job, an important one, but not one that was going to take anything I wasn’t willing to give. That same job was the reason I let myself just stand there as Hero Force took you into custody. Like a coward. I hate myself for that moment.” His voice is raw with the admission. His free hand curls into a fist. “I should have run with you then.”

Nadezh barks a disbelieving laugh. It’s inappropriate, but the idea of Hero Zone, the most honorable hero in Chicago, running away with a supervillain is ridiculous. She hides her incredulity. “That’s—”

“I’m serious, Nadezh.” Gannon’s eyes burn through her, gaze unflinching. Her pulse jumps under his thumb. “I still think that. We could run now. Settle down somewhere and be civilians. Never show up on Hero Force radar again. Like Bonnie and Clyde hiding out from the law.”

“That’s not funny.” Try as she might, Nadezh can’t find any trace of humor on Gannon’s face. Her eyes dart around the room. When she can’t find any cameras, she leans forward and hisses, “Don’t even joke about that. You love being a hero.”

“I love being with you,” Gannon says. This time when he smiles the mole under his eye disappears with the force of it. “I told you, all I want is to marry you. No job will ever be worth more than that. So…” His smile wavers for a moment before he fixes it in place. “What do you say? Will you run away with me?”

Fuck. Her mind leaps ahead. They could get a place in the mountains. She knows how much Gannon misses his hometown on the East Coast. His family has long since disappeared from those ridges and valleys, but she can see him there, facing the sun with his arms held over his head in triumph. A field sprawled out below him blooms with green and a house sits just beyond that with a gently smoking chimney. Could she belong there too? With him?

Gannon mistakes her silence. “You wouldn’t have to wear the power suppressors ever again or worry about Briston yelling or what Hero Force will make you do. It could be just you and me like we always imagined. Together.”

Is he pleading with her? Begging her to say yes?

There will always be a part of her that wants to. The greedy and selfish part that wants to keep him all to herself, like the doll in her childhood that unraveled at the seams after only a month. The part of her that could hide him away is familiar. Too familiar.

“No.”

Gannon’s face falls. “No?”

“Not because I don’t want us,” she assures. Somehow, she feels lighter. Is this what’s been sitting silently between them this whole time? She could laugh. “I do. But I think you’re misunderstanding something. You’re not the reason why I’m cooperating with Hero Force.” She thinks over her words and then rephrases. “You’re not the only reason.”

“I’m not?” Gannon backtracks. “I mean, it’s not a problem if I’m not, but I thought…well. I thought given what you said in the interrogation room…”

“You will always be the love of my life,” Nadezh says. She finds the words as she says them. She’s had a lot of time to think about this – Gannon is not the first one to think what it’d be like to run away. “That will never change. It’s just…” Private room, she reminds herself. No one will be able to hear. She confesses, “I want to change. I don’t want to be the Firebreather anymore.”

“You’re not!”

Keep him, no one can stop you, power suppressors barely work once we really get up to temperature—Nadezh stops those thoughts firmly in their tracks. “There are parts of me that still are. I was afraid when I revealed who I was, but since then look how far I’ve come. You know all of me and you’re still here.” She lets her wonder and hope leak into her voice. Some mornings she wakes up to him by her side and can’t fathom how the universe let someone with hands as stained as hers have something so good. “I have a job. I have a way to give back for all the harm I caused. I…I think confronting my past has given me a chance to grow like I haven’t done before. A year ago, I couldn’t even accept the proposal from the man I love more than life itself. Now? I know that I can walk into work every day and have those power suppressors put on me by Hero Force -not you - and I can hold my head high.”

“Not me? Nadezh, I’m your containment,” Gannon says. His expression is tortured in the candlelight. “You say it’s Hero Force, but it’s me. I’m the one holding you back. Foresight said that Firebreather was sufficiently contained by my side, he awarded me custody—”

“Are you feeling guilty over that?” Nadezh’s mouth drops open. “Gannon, seriously?”

“I feel like I’m choosing to be your captor over being your fiancé,” Gannon says.

“Just like how you knew I would never hurt you, I know you would never hurt me. I wouldn’t even have to use my powers. I know the second I didn’t want to put those cuffs on, you wouldn’t.”

“I’m still—”

“No.” Nadezh won’t allow any room for confusion here. “Gannon. Stop. I am the one choosing to do this. That day I gave you a choice, remember? I said that you could walk away and I would be—” fine is a strong word “—I would understand. I was going to keep the memory of us agreeing to get married and let you walk away.”

There’s gravel in Gannon’s voice. He reaches across the table to capture her other hand. “I would never change my mind.”

“I believe you.” He was patient with her, waiting for her to believe it. She holds his hands back. “I believe you. So here’s what I’m asking. You gave me a choice just now. Stay or run away. Please believe me when I say I want to stay.”

“Even if it means I have to be your captor?” he asks, anguished.

She nearly snaps at the question. Isn’t he listening to what she’s saying? His tone stills her. She studies him. His eyes are teary, and she can feel his hands tremble in hers. “This really bothers you.”

He nods wordlessly.

She tries to put herself in his shoes. She imagines that he’s working as a henchman who used to be a hero. She imagines putting cuffs on him before work every day, knowing that he’d be helpless if the Villain ever decided to turn on him—She winces. “Maybe we can ask Omit to put on the cuffs instead?”

“I…we could try that,” Gannon says after a long moment. He breathes in through his nose. Out through his mouth. In through his nose. Then, “I really ruined this celebration dinner, huh?”

She snorts. Both of their eyes are red and swollen despite neither of them crying. “This is about how most of my celebration dinners have gone. Better, actually. Nobody is screaming and nothing’s on fire.”

“Yet,” Gannon says.

“See? There’s still hope.” They’ve been talking for so long that her wine is warm. She grimaces as she swallows. “Hey, captor? I think it’s time you took me to a secondary location.”

“That’s not funny.” Despite his words, Gannon’s lips twitch as he stands and pushes in his chair. “I’m really upset about that.”

Nadezh follows him to the door. She caresses his shoulder, ostensibly checking him for dust, but really needing the contact. “Should I comfort you?”

Gannon drops back to put his arm around her shoulders. “Hmmm, keep talking.”

“I think I have Stockholm syndrome—”

“I change my mind. No more talking.”

Nadezh laughs. “Riiiight.”

It’s not perfect. Nadezh knows that the conversation isn’t over. There’s a guardedness in Gannon she’s never seen before when talking about Hero Force. He doesn’t believe her, not yet. But that’s okay.

She’ll be around to convince him.

(Except for 9am-5pm Monday through Friday. She somehow doesn’t think Briston would take kindly to a hero responsible for flooding the docks every other week hanging around the office.)

----

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[captain-huggy-bear]

Reader yelling at Quinn infront of the boys because he didn't give her a goodbye kiss and them making fun of him (all in good fun)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Bye, baby, I'll see you after the game," Quinn smiles at you as he says goodbye and you're already leaning your head back, lips pursed waiting for your usual goodbye kiss when he just...walks away...you blink for a minute, taken aback before your brows furrow and you cross your arms, eyes tracking him as he turns his back to you. Following him as he moves towards Garland and some of the other guys.

You let out a purposefully loud cough low in your throat in an attempt to get Quinn's attention, but he's already in an animated conversation with Conor, laughing at something Conor has said. He doesn't turn your way, doesn't even appear to have heard you. It only makes your frown grow, a pout starting to develop because there was no way you were leaving without your goodbye kiss. It simply wasn't happening.

You try one more time to get his attention politely because you are nothing if not polite in your efforts to get the goodbye kiss that you are entitled to. You were raised correctly after all. Moving a few steps closer before you cough again, louder this time, some of the other Canucks looking in your direction but not the one you want. Kiefer and Tyler both starting to grin at the pout on your lips, the fold of your arms, your clear displeasure with your boyfriend, both knowing they were about to witness a highlight of their day.

You take a deep breath in, collecting enough air so that you're next words come out as a shout, loud enough that there is no possibly way Quinn won't hear you.

"Quinitin Jerome Hughes!"

He stops, freezes, turning slowly towards you with wide eyes. He looks as if he's done something terrible, unsure why you're yelling his full government name at him when he just say goodbye to you. The rest of his team watch on with various emotions ranging from their own wide eyed fear of you to amusement, holding back a laugh. Kiefer in particular is biting his lips hard, resisting the urge with everything in him.

"Baby?" If he sounds mildly terrified that's because he is, unsure of what he's done to deserve his full name being called.

"Don't baby me! Aren't you forgetting something?" You give Quinn an expectant look because of course he'll know what he forgot, right? There's no way he'd possibly forget now.

He blinks at you slowly, once, twice before answering unsure and confused, "I love you?"

"My goodbye kiss, Quintin!" You scoff at him, arms dropping to your sides heavily at his apparent disregard for your most important of goodbye rituals.

"Shit, sorry, baby..." He's scrambling over to you despite the laughs behind him as the team watch their captain practically trip over his own feet to get to you.

Still, your upset is all but forgotten when his hands cup your cheeks, melting into his touch as he leans forward to kiss you. It's not as brief as your usual goodbye kiss, like he knows he has to make it up to you, like he knows a quick peck won't be sufficient.

You ignore the wolf whistles, the shouts, the laughs as he kisses you, smiling into the kiss as your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Because this is a goodbye kiss. Lingering, longing, firmly and insistent, the sort of kiss that leaves you a little breathless when Quinn finally pulls back, forehead pressed to your own.

"Forgive me, baby?"

"You're forgiven."

[lubdubology]

Come A Long, Long Way

SYNOPSIS: His days are long and his nights are longer. He comes to you during those hours when the rest of the world stills, lured in by something almost like fate. 

PAIRING: Old Man Logan x fem!reader 

WC: 12.2k

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni; angst; swearing; non-explicit mentions of wounds, scars and healing; gratuitous sexual tension; mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption; dirty talk; frottage; nipple play; surprise appearance by Charles; oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; sex with feelings; cowgirl; mating press; creampie; brief mentions of Laura; happy ending because I said so

A/N: The idea for this story came to me through a song--My Fair Lady by Kaleo. I was struck by this verse: I'm weary from my travels // I've come a long, long way // I haven't felt a woman // Since last that I was here // Oh, won't you bring me whisky // And run your fingers through my hair? // Oh, won't you whisper sweet words // Oh, so softly in my ear? I thought, "Wow, that's so Old Man Logan" and this is what I birthed from that. This may be one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I sincerely hope you think so too. Huge, huge thank you to @yxtkiwiyxt for betaing this for me and making the final draft what it is; you helped end this in such a beautiful way. Thank you to @saradika for the use of her graphics. And as always, I hope you enjoy this and any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

He shouldn’t care about the car pulled over on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking as the rain pours down. 

For three days, Logan’s entertained a rowdy bachelorette party, chauffeuring them from bar to bar, dinner to dinner. The scent of cheap perfume and desperation still linger inside the limo, the drunken, whispered advances still burn against his skin. 

He’s tired. Exhausted down to his very marrow and he wants nothing more than to crawl onto his sagging mattress and steal whatever amount of sleep his shattered mind will give him. 

So, no. He shouldn’t care about the car. 

But he finds himself easing off the gas, the limo starting to slow as he nears. He feels drawn, like a month to a flame, as if some unseen force has wound itself around his sternum and is pulling him forward. 

Pulling him to you. 

As the limo approaches, he spots you crouched down by the front left tire, struggling with a lug wrench, the tool slipping in your rain-soaked fingers. He can almost hear the curses spilling from your lips as you glance up and look towards where he’s sitting. 

Logan knows you can’t see him, not well anyway with the headlights shining directly upon you and the rain pouring down in sheets, but he swears you find his gaze, your eyes seeming to pierce down directly to his soul. He feels the flutter of something deep in his chest and he feels exposed, like a raw wound that hasn’t quite healed. 

For a moment, he hesitates, and wonders if you’re a siren, out here in your element to lure him to his death. Then your gaze drops and the thought dissolves but only just. Before he can talk himself out of it, Logan’s throwing the car in park and opening the door. 

The rain is frigid, the cold biting at his skin as the downpour soaks him down to the bone. You glance up at him as he approaches, your fingers loosening around the wench but still keeping it firmly in your grasp. Straightening up, you push wet strands of hair out of your face, your fingers trembling from the cold. 

“Need a lift?”

He doesn’t know why he asks. What he should do is swap out the old tire for the spare and let you go on your way. But those eyes of yours are piercing him again, the hook you’ve sunk deep in his sinew pulling taut once more and Logan feels compelled to take you home. 

For a few moments, you continue to silently assess him, your gaze flitting between your car, the limo behind him and back to his now soaked frame. Then, you stand and open the driver’s side door, tossing in the wrench and pulling your purse close to your chest. You follow him to the limo and climb into the backseat as Logan slips back in behind the wheel. 

He glances back at you through the rearview mirror, watching as you lean back into the seat, your wet clothes clinging to every curve of your body. Which is another thing he shouldn’t care about and yet…

Clearing his throat, he turns up the heat. “Where you headed?”

“North. About twenty miles or so.”

Logan nods and shifts the car into drive, heading back down the road as the rain continues to come down. Several minutes pass in silence, save for the rhythmic thump of the windshield wipers. Finally, your voice breaks through the silence, soft and lilting. 

“Got a name?”

“Who’s asking?”

A half smile tugs at your lips as you slide from the seat and slip into the row directly behind the partition. Logan can feel the damp of your skin as you lean into his space, the scent of rain flooding his nostrils almost intoxicating. You say your name and wait for him to respond in kind.

“Logan,” he answers, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Life hasn’t been kind to you, has it, Logan?” you ask, his name dripping from your lips like honey and just as sweet.

Logan stiffens, his grip tightening on the wheel as your words cut through the night. There’s no pity in your tone, which he’s silently grateful for, but an unsettling mixture of curiosity and understanding.

At the best of times, he doesn’t like anyone trying to scratch below the surface, to worm themselves into all the soft and vulnerable bits he tries so desperately to hide away. Now that he’s older and feeling every bit of his age, the weight of his bones threatening to drag him down with each step, he likes it even less.

“It’s not kind to anyone,” he answers, turning his head just enough to glance sideways at you. 

You tilt your head slightly, a wordless noise humming in your throat. “Maybe,” you concede, voice soft, like you’re mulling over his words. “Except your life has carved itself into you a little more than most.”

He wants to be annoyed, to slam his foot on the brake and send the limo careening into reverse back towards your broken down car. But something stirs in him, thrumming in time with the pulse beating in his veins—a spark of irritation mixed with that pull that’s been gnawing at him since he first saw you. 

“You a therapist or somethin’?”

You chuckle softly, the sound low and intimate, as you lean back into the seat, finally putting some space between you. “No. Just intuitive.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you through the rearview mirror with a scowl. “Intuit less. Just tell me where I’m goin’.”

A soft, chiding “tsk” falls from your lips and you shake your head, but Logan doesn’t miss the smile playing on your lips. You give him directions to your house and for moment you both sit in silence but the air remains heavy with unspoken tension. 

Logan pulls off the highway, beginning to wind through the smaller streets of the town as he gets closer to your place. The thought of this ride ending, of you leaving this car, both thrill and disappoint him. 

“You believe in fate?”

The question cuts through the silence, pulling Logan’s focus back to you. He glances at you briefly, your expression thoughtful as you wait for him to answer. 

“No,” he finally says, voice flat. 

A soft hum escapes your throat. “Unsurprising. But don’t you think, Logan,” you begin, leaning back into his space, “that maybe fate is what brought us together?”

You have that knowing look in your eye again, a sly smile tugging at your lips. As if you’re in on some cosmic secret he’s not privy to. It unnerves him. 

But it intrigues him, too. 

“I think a broken down car brought us together.”

“Or maybe life decided to be kind to you,” you challenge. “To bring me to you.”

Logan turns into a quiet subdivision as your words rattle around in his brain. The rain has mostly subsided, but is still falling in a gentle drizzle as he pulls up in front of your house, a single porch light illuminated in welcome. It looks small, yet homey, the kind of place he could have seen himself in once if life had been kinder to him. 

“You should come in,” you say as you gather your belongings. “Get out of those wet clothes.”

Your eyes meet his again through the review mirror, a mischievous glint in your gaze and an even more sinful smile on your lips. 

It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone. The thrill of finding a partner for the night having lost its luster around the time his bones started to ache. More often than not, his sexual escapades involve his own calloused hands and memories from when he was a younger man. 

“Think about it,” you offer as you open the door and slip out of the limo. “Door’ll be open.” 

Logan sits, hands gripping the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not to follow you into the house.

Your offer is tantalizing, ripe for the picking, and the baser part of himself wants to accept—follow you into sin. You’ve already injected yourself into his veins, he might as well see the high through. 

The rational part of his brain knows he should leave, throw the limo in reverse and tail it back to the life he’s carved out for himself in the desert. Experience has hardened him, left him unable to, or maybe unwilling to, open himself to others. He doesn’t need whatever it is you think you can offer him, no matter how alluring and sweet your words may be. 

The weight of his wet clothes against his skin begins to feel almost suffocating and with a low curse under his breath, Logan steps from the limo and follows the path you took up the porch and into the house.

A trail of water leads from the front door to a small laundry room just off the foyer and then damp footprints lead deeper into the house. He can hear the low rumble of a dryer as he steps further into the space, the squeak of his shoes against the hardwood doing nothing to hide his approach. 

Logan finds you in the kitchen, lights dimmed low, standing in only a pair of mismatched underwear, the damp fabric barely concealing what’s underneath as you gently swirl a glass of whiskey. A second, untouched glass sits next to your hip on the counter. 

“You seem like a whiskey man,” you say, your smile curving around the glass as you take a slow sip. “Did I get it right?”

Stopping in the doorway, he flexes his hands at his sides, and wills himself to move—forward, backward, he’s not quite sure. The muted light catches along your curves, the damp sheen of your skin enticing, the dark outline of your nipples and curls between your thighs acting like a beacon. Logan can feel himself hardening against his slacks. 

He can smell you—bright and earthy and wholly intoxicating. Your heartbeat echoes in his ears, quick, but steady, betraying no fear. 

“If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it by now,” you say and he has half a thought to wonder if you can read his mind. 

A sly smile spreads across your face as his eyes finally meet yours, a knowing edge to your expression that further sets him off balance. 

“What’s happenin’ here?” Logan finally rasps, his voice low and rough. 

You give a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders as you grab the glass next to you and take a step towards him, your movements slow yet deliberate. He doesn’t move, rooted to the spot as you approach him. 

“That’s up to you,” you reply, handing him the glass. “You can get out of those wet clothes and enjoy this whiskey with me, or,” you pause to step closer, “you can walk back out that door and pretend like you weren’t curious about what’s waiting for you here.”

Logan’s fingers grip the glass in his hands just a little too tight as you stare up at him, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary. You’re challenging him, daring him to act, and he knows the minute he breaks, he’s done for. He won’t be able to stop. 

You risk another step closer, leaving barely a breadth of space between you. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can smell the rain on your skin, as your closeness overwhelms his senses. He wants to drown in you. 

“What’s it gonna be?” you ask in a whisper, your fingers trailing along the edge of his belt buckle. 

Your touch and proximity ignites something primal in him, something he thought long extinguished. Logan can feel pure want, need, surge through his veins and lick flames along his skin. His free hand moves on instinct, wrapping around your wrist, halting your teasing fingers before they venture any further. His restraint is hanging by a thread, fraying and threatening to snap.

“You sure this is what you want?” His voice is low, all gravel and grit as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened by a hunger begging to be fed.

Your lips curve into a slow, knowing smile as you press yourself fully against him, soft and warm. Rising up onto the balls of your feet, you drop your gaze to his lips before flicking your eyes back up to his and ghosting your mouth along his jawline. “Stay with me,” you whisper, sliding your hand up his chest. “Just this once.”

Logan’s restraint snaps. The glass tumbles from his hand, shattering against the floor, but neither of you seem to notice. His hand moves to the small of your back, wanting to press you impossibly closer as his lips crash into yours, hot and demanding. 

You respond in kind, a whimper dying in your throat as your fingers tangle in his damp hair, urging him closer. A growl tumbles from his lips as he trails his mouth down your neck, nipping and tasting as he goes, his tongue finding your pulse point and sucking. His hands roam freely, his calloused fingers sliding over your smooth flesh, palming your hips and gripping you as if you’re the only thing grounding him to earth.

He feels alive. Every cell in his body hums beneath your touch, the constant aches and pains temporarily erased. You’re a balm to his very soul, smoothing the ever deepening cracks and making him feel whole. 

You gasp as he nips at a spot just below your ear and he smirks against your skin, the sound spurring him on. “Tell me where your room is, or I’m fuckin’ you right here on the table,” he husks, his voice thick with desire, breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

Pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your lips swollen and eyes dark, you reach for his hand and wordlessly lead him past the living room and down the small hallway to your room. Once inside, he pulls you back towards him, mouth slanting back over yours, stealing the very air from your lungs. 

His cock is almost painfully hard as he walks you towards the bed, only pulling his mouth away from yours as your knees hit the edge of the mattress. Instead of sitting back on the bed, you reach for the buttons on his shirt, easing them open before sliding the fabric from his shoulders. There’s an eagerness to your movements, your fingers fumbling with his belt buckle as he sheds his undershirt and tosses it somewhere behind him. 

Logan watches with a hooded gaze, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, as you shove his pants down his legs, barely getting them past his knees before you’re reaching for the waistband of his boxers.

His fingers curl around your wrist, halting your movements and you gaze up at him, licking your lips. “Slow down, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We have all night.”

A shiver runs through you and then his mouth is on you again, hungry and all-consuming. He drinks you in like a man parched, lips and teeth mapping the curve of your jaw, the solid edge of your collarbone as your pretty little moans and gasps fill the air. You tilt your head back and offer yourself to him, your hands grasping at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle to keep him close.

His hands are rough against your skin as he slides them up your sides, tracing the soft, damp skin below the band of your bra. Unfastening the clasps, he trails the fabric down your arms, his eyes darkening as he finally takes in your bare breasts.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice dripping with raw want.

Any final restraint he has evaporates and he kicks the last of his clothes off before tightening his hands around your waist and setting you down on the bed. Logan steals the gasp from your mouth as his body covers yours, easing himself between your thighs and thrusting once against your clothed cunt.

He cups your jaw, thumb stroking over your bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to wet the skin. “Last chance,” he husks, his breath fanning across your lips. “Last chance to stop before I ruin you.” 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just hard enough to elicit a growl, his teeth bared. A sinful smile spreads across your face. “Oh, Logan,” you coo, “who says I’m not going to ruin you?”

Logan lets out a deep, guttural sound, something between a growl and a groan before he slots his mouth back over yours and follows you into temptation.  

“Figured you’d try and sneak out.”

Logan whirls around at the sound of your voice, claws slowly unsheathing from between his knuckles. Blood wells up from the wounds, dripping between his fingers as he finds you dressed in an oversized shirt, the hem just concealing the edge of your panties. Your expression belies no fear as you take in the metal jutting out between his skin, your eyes alight with an acceptance he’s not use to. 

Fear, disgust, repulsion, but rarely acceptance. 

Slowly, he retracts his claws as you move further into the kitchen, stopping at the sink to grab and moisten a washcloth before coming to stand in front of him. Logan instinctively pulls away from your touch, but you’re undeterred, taking his hands in yours and wiping the blood away from his skin. Your movements are gentle, taking care to avoid the still healing slits.

Washed of blood, you finally glance up at him. “You can stay, you know.”

“I’m not the stayin’ kind, sweetheart,” he mutters.

One of those slow, knowing smiles tugs at your lips as you release his hands and Logan actually mourns the loss. “We’ll see,” you say with a shrug, stepping back just enough to put space between you. “I don’t think fate is done with us yet.”

Your words hang in the air like smoke, curling around him and pressing into his skin. He wants to argue, the words burning on his tongue, but he doesn’t. Because despite his earlier claims that he didn’t believe in fate, he can’t deny the unnatural pull you have on him. A pull Logan doesn’t necessarily dislike.

At his silence, you lean up and press the faintest of kisses to the corner of his jaw. “I’ll leave the light on for you,” you whisper into his skin.

It’s then he knows—he won’t be able to stay away. 

Logan shows up at your door again two weeks later. 

He’s been driving around some bigwig CEO, chauffeuring him from conference to conference during the day and dropping him off at random hotels during the night. When he gives Logan the address to tonight’s hotel, Logan knows instantly he’s in trouble. Just his luck the hotel is in your town. 

Pulling off the freeway, he feels that familiar tug behind his ribs. His hands itch with the want, the need, to turn the wheel towards you instead of the address on his GPS. Since that night, you’ve haunted him, your face showing up in his dreams, waking with the sensation of your softness burning into his skin. 

Logan knows he could stay at the hotel or sleep in the back of the limo like he’s done so many times before. But as he slowly inhales at his cigar and waits for Mr. CEO to stop fingering his mistress in the back seat and get the fuck out, the need to be near you only grows stronger. 

And damned if he knows why. 

He doesn’t need a relationship, or whatever the hell this is. Enough of him has been spread to others, for better or worse, and he’s already worn thin. The last remnants of any family he has are hanging off a very precarious ledge and he can’t bear the heartache of more loss if he opens himself to you. 

But as much as Logan keeps telling himself he’s closed off, fortified against anything new, he can feel himself bleeding through the cracks. 

By the time he finally turns down your street, it’s well past a respectable visiting hour. Most houses are dark for the night, but not yours. The front porch light illuminates just like it did two weeks ago and the dim lights of the kitchen shine through the pulled blinds. You’re up and a frisson of anticipation shoots through him. 

He parks the limo and stamps out the cigar before walking up your driveway. As he approaches the door, he hesitates. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. While your final words to him were open ended, did that give him the right to just show up in the middle of the night? 

You open the door as he contemplates and when his gaze finally focuses on you, he relaxes. A well worn robe is tied around your waist, your hair tied up in a messy bun, your face cleaned of makeup and yet you’re more alluring to him than you were that night in the rain. 

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he confesses, stepping just a bit closer towards you. 

A slow, soft smile spreads across your face. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,” you reply. You open the door to allow him entrance and he steps in after you. 

Logan follows you into the kitchen, where you already have a glass of whiskey ready for him. Handing him the glass, you nod your head towards the living room. “Come. Relax for a bit.”

He follows you into he living room, the single lamp casting a soft glow within the space. You settle onto the sectional, tucking your legs beneath you and turning yourself towards him as he joins you. For a moment, neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t awkward—it’s comfortable, like it always is around you. 

“You look tired,” you say, finally breaking the quiet. Your voice is soft, a sense of familiarity laced in with your words, as if you understand the magnitude of his fatigue.

Logan huffs as he swirls the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light. “Honey, I’m always tired,” he replies. “Comes with the territory.”

You give a small hum, your head tilting to the side as you assess him. “You’re in pain, too.”

Logan freezes at your words, his eyes flicking up to your face. His gaze locks with yours, sharp and guarded, like you’ve peeled back a layer he wasn’t ready to expose. And yet, you’ve been doing this since the beginning. Finding the cracks in his facade and wedging yourself in until the gap widens, uncovering the raw nerves underneath.

“What makes you say that?” he asks, his tone challenging.

You gaze remains steady and calm, holding a softness that unnerves him more than the question itself. “Because it’s written all over you,” you say simply. “I see it in your scars, in the way your hands are always clenched, as if steeling yourself against a blow that’ll never come.”

Logan exhales a low, humorless laugh before taking a long sip of whiskey, relishing the burn as it slides down his throat. “Don’t even notice it anymore,” he lies, shifting in his seat. 

Your mouth tugs into a gentle frown as you shift, crawling closer to where he sits. You pluck the glass from his fingers, swallowing down the rest of the whiskey before setting it on the coffee table. Logan watches as you swing your legs over his lap, your robe riding up to reveal the smooth expanse of your thighs. 

The weight of you against his lap sends a rush of arousal down his spine and he can feel his cock stir in his slacks. If you notice, you ignore it, instead reaching for a small bottle of lotion on the end table and squeezing a dollop into your palm. You rub your hands together twice before reaching for his right hand. 

Your thumbs dig into the meat of his palm, a low groan slipping from his throat before he can stop himself. You bite your lip, but Logan can see the sly smile beneath. 

“You help take care of everyone else,” you begin, rubbing the lotion further into his calloused palms. “Who helps care for you?”

Logan feels flayed open, that pull that spins him into your orbit only growing stronger as you see down to his very soul. Caliban swore you weren’t a mutant but Logan still couldn’t shake the idea that you were something more. 

“What are you?” he asks, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, watching you concentrate on his hand. 

You slide your fingers along the pink, puffy lines between his knuckles, a slow hiss escaping between his teeth as you massage the tender flesh. He wonders if you know how sensitive his skin is now, how each time his claws come out it hurts just a little bit more than the last time. 

“I’m human,” you reply, positioning his hand to focus on the back, tracing the fine scars there. “Same as you.”

“I ain’t human.”

Your eyes flick to his as you drop his right hand and reach for his left. “You’re human where it counts,” you say, beginning to massage his hand. 

Logan scoffs. “Yeah? And where’s that?”

You release his hand and place your palm in the center of his chest, your fingers splayed over his heart. “In here.”

He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to where your fingers are resting against him. You touch him like you’re unafraid, undeterred by the metal in his bones and the sometimes primal rage that courses through his blood. His killed—for the sake of war, self preservation, and for reasons not so innocent—but you can somehow still see past that, to some soft part of him that still lingers. 

Logan itches to touch you, to pull you closer and—

“You can touch me,” you say, as if pulling the thought from his head. “I like when you touch me.”

Logan slides his palms up your thighs and around your hips, pulling you flush against his lap, your clothed center pressing against the fly of his slacks. He doesn’t miss the gasp that falls from your lips or the shift of your hips as you try and press closer. 

That thrum of aliveness begins to churn in his veins as he slowly unties the sash of your robe, allowing the fabric to fall to the side. You’re bare underneath and Logan can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to the center of your chest. 

“You dress like this jus’ for me?” he asks, dragging his lips towards your breast and pulling a nipple into his mouth, working into a taut peak beneath his tongue.

Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, holding him close. “Yes,” you breathe, a whimper falling from your lips as he moves to your other breast. “Only for you.”

A surge of possessiveness rushes through his veins and Logan can feel the prickle between his knuckles, his claws threatening to unsheathe at the thought of you with another man. Instead, he doubles his focus onto you, his beard scraping against your skin as he licks a hot stripe across your nipple. “Damn right, only for me,” he growls. 

You shift your hips in response, seeking more friction against the hard length of his cock pressing against you. Logan groans, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips, urging you to move against him. The soft, wet heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties and his slacks sets his control on a razors edge. 

Logan leans back slightly to lock eyes with you, your pupils blown wide with want, your skin flushed with desire. You find his gaze, hazy with pleasure, but focused and then you smile at him, bottom lip pinned between your teeth. 

“And you, Logan,” you whisper, your hands sliding down the column of his neck, “you’re only for me.” 

That hook you’ve lodged in him sinks deeper and he’s too far gone to care. The mystery behind your presence in his life is one he’s willing to spend the rest of his days unraveling so long as you stay right here, continuing to bewitch him with the beauty of your soul. 

Your allure was more potent than any pheromone, more intoxicating than any aphrodisiac. In his waking moments, Logan found his thoughts drifting to you more often than not and the frequency between his visits grew shorter and shorter until he found himself lured into your embrace almost every night. 

He was good at lying to himself, writing off these visits as nothing more than comfort—the need to find warmth in a world that so seldom offered him that luxury. But that lie grew bitter, warped in the liminal space between midnight and dawn where you stripped him down to his very bones, saw through the gruff and grit he wrapped himself in. Saw him as something more than the sum of his sins. 

Logan couldn’t hide from you and he didn’t know if he wanted to. Those carefully crafted walls that surrounded him cracked and crumbled, turning to dust at his feet. In that mysterious way of yours, you always knew what he needed—a warm meal; your tender, healing touch as you helped him stitch the worst of his wounds; the soft, pliant feel of your skin on his as you kissed him deep, the kind of kiss that burned like wildfire and whiskey.

God help him as your gravity pulled him in closer, your orbits circling tighter and tighter, destined for an inevitable crash. 

“What am I to you?”

Those five words root him where he stands, flaying him down to his very marrow. Logan should have expected this question, should have known that eventually you’d ask. 

He wants to tell you the truth, speak those words that burn against his tongue, begging to be said.

He wants to tell you of his need to find you when the days are long and the nights are longer. When the weariness he feels in his bones aches more than usual and seems to bleed into his very soul. 

When he needs to feel something more than the hollowness that seems to grow inside his chest. The slow carving away of his humanity that’s been scraping closer and closer to emptiness for years. 

When he needs to be wrapped in warmth and set afire by something almost like love. Like home. 

But he says none of this as he gazes over at you sitting at the kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest. You look small sitting there, vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen before. 

And instead, he remains silent, praying you’ll let the conversation slide. But he knows better. 

You glance up at him, your gaze piercing straight through the heart of him and then you devastate him with three simple words. 

“I love you.”

The air punches from his lungs and for a moment it feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. Your words tear through him, cutting deeper than any knife, and his hands curl into fists as you slice him open. 

“Don’t,” Logan rasps, his voice rough, barely more than whisper. He avoids your eyes, knowing that if he looks and sees the sincerity in your gaze, it’ll be his undoing. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Your voice cracks with emotion as you push away from the table, your arms wrapping around yourself. “What about those words can’t you hear?”

His jaw clenches and for every step you take closer him, he takes a half step back, as if he’s trying to distance himself from the truth beginning to swirl between you. You can’t love him. Loving someone has brought him nothing but misery and pain, loss and suffering and he’ll be damned if he drags you down that road. 

So, instead he lies, the words bitter in his mouth. 

“This ain’t love, sweatheart,” he says, gesturing between the two of you, “This is fuckin’.”

You inhale sharply between your teeth and your expression twists into disbelief, the beginning of tears welling in your eyes. “Fucking?” you bite back, your voice trembling but still firm. “You think after all these months that this is just fucking?”

Logan doesn’t answer. And he doesn’t move. He simply stands there, jaw clenched so tightly he could shatter bones. He can’t say yes. If he does that, if he voices that lie into existence, he’ll have to spend the rest of his days remembering the look in your eyes right now—destroyed. 

Your breath starts to shudder as you continue to step closer towards him. And he can feel you, warm and comforting, even though you shake with barely contained anger. “Look me in the eye and tell me that’s all this is,” you demand, your voice thick with emotion. “Tell me that when you come to me in the middle of the night, broken down, bloody and bruised, it’s just fucking. Tell me that when I touch you, hold you, love you, that it means nothing.” 

He remain silent. 

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “God, for someone with heightened senses, you’re blind to what’s right in front of you.” Your trembling voice matches the shake to your hands, your fury pouring off you in waves. “You really are a coward, aren’t you?”

Logan nostrils flare at the insult and he can feel the prickle of his claws between his knuckles. He knows his rage isn’t with you, but himself. And yet he can still feel his lips curl into a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he growls. 

“Oh, fuck you, Logan,” you seethe, your voice now raw, pain bleeding through every syllable. “You can’t even look me in the eye when you lie.”

His jaw clenches impossibly harder and he swears he can taste bone. Then, he finally meets your gaze head on, eyes flashing. “You think this ends well between us? You think I get to have somethin’ like this? Like you?” Logan’s voice cracks in a way that he loathes. “I can’t—”

The crack of your palm against his face is deafening. He barely moves from the impact, but emotionally you’ve landed him on his ass. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, unblinking.

Logan stands there, immobile, as he processes the sting of your slap. It doesn’t hurt, not physically. It’s the fact that you did it, the fact that you’re standing in front of him, chest heaving from the effort of your breathing as if you just ripped yourself open for him.

“Get out of my house,” you seethe, your voice softer than before, deflated.

Your words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. They shouldn’t wreck him and make him feel like he’s been ripped apart limb from limb. He should relish them, the push, the shove. He should revel in the confirmation that you’re finally seeing him for what he truly is—something undeserving of all the warmth and love you’ve given him. A stray animal that never should have been fed.

Logan swallows, his throat tight as he gives you a small nod. And then he does the only thing he knows how to do. 

He turns. And he walks.

His legs feel like lead, each step a feat and his brain is screaming at him to turn around. To fight. To beg. To plead. To say something, anything. 

But he doesn’t.

Logan exits the house, the front door slamming shut behind him. As he steps off the front step, the porch light above him clicks off, plunging the house into darkness. Your guiding light is gone, lost in the storm of his destruction.

Of all the wounds he’s ever taken, of all the scars that mar his skin, nothing has ever bled quite like this.

Charles watches with sharp eyes as Logan enters the old water tank and shuts the door behind him. The older man is in his wheelchair, tending to his plants as Logan walks around the place, picking up random bits of trash and the tray from breakfast. 

A soft “tsk” falls from Charles’ lips and echos in the small space. “Will you ever learn, Logan?” Charles’ voice seems tired, weary. 

Logan pauses and looks over at him, irritation already prickling along his skin. “Stay outta my head,” he snaps, slamming the tray down on a nearby table. 

He doesn’t need this, doesn’t want Charles sifting through his mind, seeing those pieces of you he so deeply cherishes. Pieces he doesn’t deserve. Pieces he doesn’t know if he’ll ever have within his grasp again. 

“She loves you,” Charles continues, seeming to ignore his request. 

Logan strides over to where Charles is sitting, unable to keep the ire from boiling over. He wants to sweep all the plants to the floor, destroy the one creative outlet Charles has, retaliate for the way he presses into the fresh bruises on his mind. “I’m begging you, just—”

Charles lifts the spray bottle beside him and directs the spray in Logan’s face, showering him in a fine mist of water. Logan freezes, water dripping from his face as his lips tighten in a thin line. He grits his teeth, an ache already blooming in his jaw. 

“What the fuck was that for?” he growls. 

“Are you a cat?” Charles asks, lowering the bottle. “No? Then stop being such a pussy.”

Logan stares at Charles, the vulgarity of the of man’s words leaving him temporarily speechless. He scrubs a hand down his face, wiping the rest of the water off with the sleeve of his shirt, scowl deepening. 

“You’re pushin’ it,” Logan warns. 

Charles simply smirks, finally setting the bottle down on the table. “Someone should. God knows you won’t push yourself. Not when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Logan sucks in a sharp breath and steps back from Charles, sitting down on the bed across from him. The old metal springs groan beneath his weight. He wants a bottle of whiskey, to quiet the thoughts in his head, at least temporarily, and fall into a drunken stupor. Anything but flaying open his feelings, especially his feelings about you. 

“What are you so afraid of?” Charles asks gently. “That she’ll see all your broken pieces?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Charles raises his eyebrow. “No? Logan, she’s already seen them. She knows what you are and she’s still here.”

“That’s not the point!” Logan roars, his voice echoing off the metal walls. His breathing comes out in short gasps and he knows he needs to rein himself in. Not only for himself but for Charles. It doesn’t take much to trigger a seizure these days and he doesn’t need the stress of this conversation to become a catalyst. 

Charles remains quiet, expression calm and Logan hangs his head, his voice softening into something raw. “It’s not about what she knows. It’s about who, about what, I am. I don’t deserve her.”

Bracing his elbows on his legs, Charles leans forward, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. “She knows all that, Logan. And she chooses you. Every night you come to her, she chooses you. How can you not see that?”

Logan doesn’t respond, but the weight of Charles’ words hang heavy against his shoulders. He looks down at his hands, seeing the callouses and crisscrossing scars. His body is a physical map of violence, each faded pink line a story of pain, regret and death. 

But you’ve never seen them that way. You’ve only ever looked at them with reverence, traced your fingertips along each one and wondered about their stories. Made him feel whole instead of broken and used. 

“You have a choice to make, Logan,” Charles says, interrupting the silence. “Let her in…or keep running. Don’t make her choose for you.” 

For days, Logan’s mind is plagued by replays of his last moments with you and his conversation with Charles. His already sleepless nights are further tormented by dreams of you, the devastated expression on your face haunting him.

The memory of your face, the crack in your usually steadfast voice, the tremor in your hand after you struck him. They all play in a nauseating loop in his brain, punishing him in a way he’s never felt before.

His life reverts to autopilot—drink, fight, drive, but nothing quells the gnawing ache in his chest. He couldn’t stay in the smelting plant with both Caliban and Charles staring at him, watching his every move as if he were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Charles was running out of medications, a few days supply left at most, and Logan knew he was better off leaving Charles in Caliban’s care than his own.

Now, he sits on the edge of a dingy motel bed, the scent of cheap whiskey and cigar smoke clinging to his clothes. His eyes are dry and heavy with exhaustion and his skin is itching with that familiar want to be near you. It started as an annoying tug, but has now grown into a maddening want.

He knows he should ignore it. But he was never that strong.

Before he can talk himself out of it, convince himself that this is an astronomically stupid fucking idea, he’s on his feet, keys in hand and driving down those lonely roads towards you.

It’s late when he reaches your house, like it usually is, and he half expects the porch light to remain dark, a cold, bleak reminder of how badly he’s fucked up. Instead, he finds that single porch light illuminated, shining like a beacon of hope. Logan walks up onto the porch, but you don’t open the door like you’ve done so many times before. 

He contemplates leaving, turning around and getting back in the car and drinking himself into a semblance of sleep. But then he hears you, your heartbeat echoing beyond the wooden frame, as steady and as comforting as it’s always been. Logan pauses, wondering if he should try the knob and come inside—if you’ll even let him.

If you even should.

With a sigh, he lowers himself to the ground, his joints aching in protest as he rests his back against the door. “I’m not good at this,” he finally says, hoping you’re listening. “I’ve been alive for too long. Seen too much shit.” Logan pauses, his words burning in his throat. “I’ve lost too many people.”

He hears you shift behind him, your head thudding softly against the door as you listen. His relief is almost palpable knowing you’re there, that you’re at least willing to listen to him. Leaning back, Logan closes his eyes and exhales a heavy breath. “The only way I know how to keep people safe is to push ‘em away. And I need to keep you safe.”

The words feel foreign leaving his mouth, as if they’re uncovering a truth he’s long kept secret. He feels exposed in a way he’s not used to, raw and honest, and the truth of his words burns. Logan can still hear you on the other side of the door, your breathing slow and steady, yet laced with something—hesitation, maybe, or hurt. It makes his chest ache in a new and unfamiliar way. 

“I’m tired,” he continues, his voice softer. “I’m so fuckin’ tired, sweetheart. Tired of fightin’ when all I want—” Logan swallows hard. “All I want is you.”

The porch light hums above him, the night is alive with the chirping of crickets, but the silence that follows is almost deafening. 

Logan doesn’t deserve you, he knows that. You should turn him away, tell him to leave, to kick him back to the desert to lick his wounds alone. He doesn’t know how to be someone’s partner, their lover. He’s not sure if he ever has, really, too hung up on all the ways he paints himself as a bad man. Someone unworthy. 

Except with you, he finds himself wanting to fight. To prove he’s not as hard and unyielding as the metal bones inside him. That somewhere deep inside him there still lingers warmth and affection and the capacity to love. 

He’s bracing himself for the worst when he hears the faint sounds of the lock turning. The door creaks open and he shifts to look up at you. One of your well used blankets is wrapped around your shoulders, your hair tousled from sleep and your eyes are red and wet with unshed tears. Logan’s heart thuds heavily in his chest as you stand there and he turns to face you, pushing up onto his knees. Your expression is carefully masked, betraying little of your underlying emotions, and he carefully crawls forward, testing the waters of how close you’ll let him get.

His knees ache as he kneels on the hard concrete, but he’d crawl through glass if you asked him to. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him as he nuzzles his face into the softness and warmth of your belly. Your comforting scent floods his senses as he waits for your anger, your rejection.

Instead, you sigh, a long pent up breath released in a steady exhale and your fingers sink into the disheveled hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close to you. “You’re an asshole,” you finally say, though your tone lacks any venom or spite.

Logan feels it then, the tension slowly easing from your body as you allow him to sink further into your frame. His heart lurches his chest, the faintest flicker of hope fluttering against his ribs.

“Yes,” he mumbles into your shirt.

“You hurt me.”

He pulls back as you gently push at his shoulders and sink down to the ground in front of him. But you don’t push him away any further and instead, lace your fingers through his. “I should tell you to fuck off,” you continue, your eyes focused on where you’re touching him. “But I can’t.”

His voice comes out in a whisper. “Why?”

Your eyes meet his and your gaze pierces straight through his soul. “You know why.”

And he does. In truth, he thinks he’s always known, long before you ever spoke those three little words out loud. Words so simple, yet so profound. Words he rarely speaks, while others casually toss them around. Words he has rarely felt, but with you feel as natural as breathing, as the sun rising in east.

Words he’s still afraid to say, despite everything, despite every cell in his body screaming at him.

You look at him like you know, because of course you do. You’ve always known him, in that uncanny way of yours since he first saw you standing in the rain. So instead of ire or disappointment at his lack of response, you simply squeeze his hand, grounding him to your reality. 

“You don’t have to say it,” you whisper, your voice soft and steady. “Not yet.”

Logan looks at you, his brows furrowed. He can’t fathom what he’s done in this life to deserve you, your patience, your unwavering belief in him. “You make it hard not to,” he finally rasps, his voice rough and uneven. “Love you, I mean.”

The admission hangs heavy in the air, raw and jagged, much like him. It’s close to what you want to hear, but not quite. And yet he sees something warm and bright blossom on your face. 

You lean in, raising your free hand to lightly trace the curve of his jaw, scratching at the scruff there. “You’re a man of action, Logan,” you say, pressing in closer, your breath mingling with his. “Wanna show me instead?”

This—this is a language he’s fluent in. 

Using his lips, tongue, hands and cock to write on your body all the words he cannot say. He’s mastered your shape, the way your hips curve beneath his palm, the softness of your belly and breasts, the heat between your thighs stoked hotter only by him. He knows exactly where to press, where to nip and suck and tease to elicit all those pretty little moans and gasps of pleasure. 

Logan’s already drawn one orgasm out of you, his fingers still thrusting against you as you ride out your high, your thighs shuddering against his forearm. You’re flushed and breathy as you reach for him, urging him up from between your thighs.  

You pull him close, fingers sinking into his hair as you lick into his mouth, not caring that your slick still stains his beard and lingers against his tongue. He swallows your gasp as he knocks your knees apart and slots himself between your legs, his cock heavy against your belly. 

He wants you. In all the ways he can think of and not just like this, naked and pliant beneath him. He wants your sleepily whispered hellos each morning and your softly murmured goodnights each evening. He wants the warm, weighty press of your body against his as you sit on the couch beside him sipping whiskey. 

He wants, he wants, he wants. 

As his kisses grow more fervent, you grow impatient and push at his chest, urging him back. “Lie back,” you command softly, your breath damp against his lips, “Let me take care of you.”

He wants to protest, deny you this request. This is supposed to be about you, about using his body to show you all the things his words can’t say. He’d spend the whole night between your thighs, using his mouth, tongue and fingers to worship if you’d let him. But there’s something in your gaze that forces him to comply and he gives in, rolling onto his back. 

You straddle his thighs, your slick cunt sliding along the length of his cock. Logan groans and his hands reach for your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh as he encourages you to move. “This is s’pose to be about you,” he husks as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth. 

“Oh, it is,” you answer, licking your lips as you brace your hands on his chest. “Who else can get you hard and needy beneath them?”

A low growl escapes from his throat. “No one.”

A wicked smile curls at your lips as you drag your heat along him, the blunt head of his cock nudging your clit with every slow, deliberate rock of your hips. The sensation has his control unraveling and he slides his hands along your thighs to palm the curve of your ass. 

You press into his touch, continuing to roll your hips as you lean forward to press an open mouthed kiss to the corner of his jaw. “You see,” you murmur, “this is for me.”

Reaching between your bodies, you grasp him in your hand and line him up. Slowly, almost tortuously slow, you sink down on his cock, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. A sharp inhale escapes him as your warm, tight walls surround him and Logan knows this feels different. 

This isn’t merely fucking anymore, the melding of flesh for the pure sake of pleasure, of briefly escaping the nightmare of his life, of finding solace in sin. You’ve somehow managed to bleed yourself into him, to wrap yourself around his heart. 

You feel as if you’re a part of him, lodged deep between his ribs and that if he were to try to remove you, he’d kill himself in the process. A part of him knows this feeling has always been there, back when you first entered his limo. The feeling threatens to choke him, to fill his love soaked lungs until all he can breathe is you. 

He loves you. 

Pure and unfiltered and it terrifies him. 

“I—fuck, I,” he chokes out, the words caught in his throat. “I feel—”

Your hands run over his chest, up along his collarbones, your fingers blazing a trail over his skin. “I know, Logan,” you whisper, your hips rocking languidly against his. 

He grips your thighs, almost tight enough to bruise, helping guide your movements, but also prove to himself you’re real. Logan’s chest heaves as he watches you ride him, your hips rocking harder, faster, dragging moans out of both of you. You lean back just enough to change the angle, driving him deeper and he bucks his hips, meeting your thrusts with a force that has you crying out his name.

And yet it’s not enough. He needs to wrap himself around you, twine his fingers through your hair and hold your mouth to his until he’s completely consumed you. His hands slide up your back towards your waist and he pulls you down against him, mouth hot and insistent against your neck as he continues to fuck up into you. 

In one fluid motion, Logan grips your thighs and flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, cock still sheathed deep within your cunt. You arch beneath him as he sets a brutal, devastating pace, the raw intensity of his movements stealing short, gasps breaths from your lips with each thrust. A shiver ripples through you as he draws a nipple into his mouth, his name tumbling from you like a prayer.

“Fuck, there it is,” he growls. “I love all those little sounds you make.”

His choice of word isn’t lost on either of you and your eyes meet his as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving faint red crescents as you cling to him. “Logan,” you gasp, your voice trembling as he hits that soft spot deep inside you. “More.”

“You want more?” he rasps, gripping your thighs and pulling them higher around his waist. The new angle has you crying out, the sound echoing in the room as he continues to slam into you with a force that has the bed creaking beneath you.

“Ah, fuck, yes,” you moan, your head tipping back. 

Logan takes advantage of your offering, his lips and teeth marking a path down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin in a way that’s sure to leave a burn come the morning. There’s a possessiveness to his touch, a need to claim you, to prove to you that this is all he needs—your embrace, your warmth, your love.

“You’re so fuckin’ good to me,” he growls against your skin, his hand sliding down between your bodies and finding where you’re joined. He can feel himself pounding into you, your combined arousal coating his fingers as he finds your clit and begins to rub in tight circles. “So goddamn perfect. You were made for me, sweetheart, you know that?”

Your cunt flutters around him and he knows you’re close, your thrusts against him growing erratic. He feels his own impending release, but he needs you to come first, needs to feel you shatter against him. His fingers press more firmly against your clit and with a breathy moan, your body tenses, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashes into you.

“That’s it,” Logan groans, his own thrusts faltering as he feels you tighten around him, pulling him in deeper. “Look at you, comin’ so pretty for me.” He slows just enough to prolong your release, his thrusts deliberate as he draws out every ounces of pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him. 

It’s overwhelming—the sensation of you beneath him, around him; the cling of your fingers to his shoulders; the warm, damp breath against his neck; the absolute perfection of this moment right now. In all his years on this earth, he’s never experienced anything like this. The desire to completely consume someone, body and soul, and be consumed return. He wants his dying breath to be your name.

Something inside of Logan snaps, and as you try and catch your breath as you come down from your high, he presses your legs higher, folding you beneath him in a way that has his cock pressing deeper than before. The change has you whimpering and he looks down to find your expression as wrecked as he feels. He pauses his thrusts just long enough to grasp both your wrists and pin them above your head before he picks up his pace again, fucking into you with an almost ruthless intensity.

“I love you,” he growls, his thrusts growing erratic, his control quickly unraveling with every whimper and cry of his name. “God, I fucking love you.”

For a few moments, he doesn’t even realized what he’s said. Then he looks down at you, your gaze trained on his face and that soft, knowing smile of yours on your lips. “Logan,” you gasp, “I know. I’ve always known.”

Logan lets out a rough, shuddering breath, his entire body trembling with the weight of his confession. Any response he has dies in his throat as he presses his forehead to yours, his entire body wound tight. He’s so fucking close, can feel his orgasm coiling hot and tight in his gut, but it’s more than your warm heat drawing him in—it’s everything. 

“Tell me,” he grits out, his hips chasing, chasing, chasing that release.

You lean up as much as you can with your hands still pinned above you and lick an open mouthed kiss against his lips. “I love you, Logan.”

And that’s all it takes. He groans into your mouth as he finally lets go, his body tensing as his release crashes into him. He spills himself deep inside you, shallowly thrusting into your cunt as his rhythm slows.

Logan releases your hands, and for a long moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing, of heartbeats slowing, the two of you tangled in the aftermath.

Logan’s restless and unable to sleep despite your smaller frame tucked alongside him, the weight of your head resting against his chest. From his periphery, he can see his phone illuminating with unread texts, no doubt from Caliban urging his return. Charles has been deteriorating faster than Logan cares to admit, his mind gone more often than not, raving about new mutants. He needs drugs faster than Logan can procure them.

His mind churns, the reality of the outside world looming closer and he contemplates slipping from your grasp when you shift, curling yourself further into him. You don’t speak, not yet, but he can tell you’re alert, floating somewhere in that space between sleep and full wakefulness. Your fingers start to move of their own accord, the gentle pressure of your fingertips tracing over an old scar along his ribs, mapping out an old battle he no longer remembers. 

Beside him, his phone buzzes again and Logan sighs.

“Sounds important,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep.

He wants to keep ignoring it, stay wrapped in the quiet cocoon you’ve thrown around him, but Logan knows he can’t. It’s a cruel reminder of the chaos that plagues him beyond the sanctuary of your embrace. 

“You can go to him, Logan,” you continue, fingers never stopping their slow path along his skin. “I know you’ll be back.”

“How,” he starts, licking his dry lips, “how do you always know?”

Logan’s asked versions of this question before. You’ve always brushed him off, given a coy answer and steered the conversation towards something else. For a moment, he thinks tonight will be the same.

But then you answer.

“I can feel you,” you answer softly, your breath warm and damp against his skin. “I just—” You pause and turn to look up at him and then disentangle yourself from his embrace. “Stand up,” you urge, nudging at his side until he complies.

He blinks at you in confusion, but you just smile at him, soft and sleepy, and gently cup the side of his face. “Now, close your eyes.”

Logan does as he’s told, chasing after your touch as you step back from him, settling somewhere beyond him on the bed. “I’m going to move and you tell me where I am.”

The soft rustle of bedsheets follows and then, stillness. You’re quiet, but he can sense you, just off to his right, but too far away to touch. “My right, but farther back in the room.”

You move again, keeping your movements light. Again, he pinpoints you, this time towards his left, closer, but still too far away to grasp. “Left.”

A final movement, this time even closer, your proximity flooding his senses, sending a rush of warmth down his spine. Logan reaches out, finding the curve of your hips, hands tucking underneath the shirt you had slipped on earlier in the night, splaying his palms against your back. He opens his eyes and meets your gaze, alive in the predawn glow.

“How did you know?” you ask, looping your arms around his neck.

Understanding dawns on him, the answer so simple, yet so profound. Pinpointing where you were had nothing to do with his heightened senses and everything to do with just you—the way you’ve molded yourself to him like a second skin. “I could feel you,” he answers. “I could—I just knew.”

You lean forward, pressing the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth. Logan sighs into your mouth, his eyes fluttering close as you press your forehead to his. “It’s like that,” you whisper. “This undeniable pull, an invisible string that connects me to you and it tug, tug, tugs, until…there you are.”

His phone continues to buzz, growing more insistent as the soft blues and grays of the morning bleed into more golden hues. With a reluctance you both feel, Logan peels himself away, finally answering the phone with an irritation he doesn’t bother hiding. 

You watch him go, standing on the porch with the light casting a halo around your head. Your smile is gentle, but stained with worry and yet you remain stoic, the steady pillar holding up the fractured remains of his life.

As he drives away, he catches one last look at you in the rearview mirror and he’ll spend the next few months wishing he told you—he feels you too. 

The last one hundred miles have dragged on for eons, the road before him stretching into an almost infinite distance. Logan finds himself darting his eyes towards the dashboard clock, growing increasingly frustrated when the numbers move only a few minutes at a time, the slow passage of time seeming to taunt him. 

It’s been months since he saw you last, though no fault of his own. His memories are hazy—a swirling fog of confusion, pain and burning fever. He’s not even sure how he survived, whether it was modern medicine or sheer stubbornness. Or something more. 

You believe in fate?

Your words echo in his mind, soft and sweet, and he feels a familiar pang of longing in his chest. 

Fate or not, something kept a spark alive in him, pulsing through his veins with each sluggish beat as he slowly and painfully healed. His wounds are still pink and tender to the touch, more of his skin marred by death and destruction. 

As he turns into your subdivision, the night quiet, a cold, creeping anxiety snakes along his spine. What if you’ve given up on him? Figured this last absence was the real deal, all his idle promises of staying away finally coming to fruition. 

But as Logan drives down your street, he sees it—the single porch light illuminating in the night. Acting like the beacon it’s always been, leading him safely to land. 

To you. 

Logan pulls into the driveway and shifts the truck into park. Turning in his seat, he glances back towards the young girl curled up on the backseat. Laura’s face is relaxed in sleep, her hands tucked protectively under her chin. She fell asleep several hours ago, the soft rhythm of the tires against pavement lulling her to sleep. 

Logan’s been many things in his life. Son, brother, fighter, friend. Lover. He never thought he’d add father to that list. While he can’t quite find it in him to call himself that just yet—even though Laura readily and easily calls him dad—he no longer denies the protectiveness he feels towards her.

Easing the door to the truck open, Logan steps out and gently shuts it behind him, loathe to disturb her just yet. 

Here he is showing up at your door like he always has—late, quiet, and carrying a heavy weight he feels only he can shoulder. His hand is poised to knock, knuckles clenched, but he pauses, unsure if he even has the right to be here. 

But then there you are, the front door opening to reveal your tired but relieved face, months of worry etched into your skin, your eyes already brimming with unshed tears. 

“Logan,” you breathe, pulling him gently by the wrist and leading him inside. You don’t ask why he’s there. He suspects you already know. 

The air inside the house is just as he remembers. Warm and inviting and laced with the faint, comforting smell of you. Logan inhales deeply, letting the scent settle somewhere in the parts of him that still feel alive, that thrum with the memory of your touch. 

Your fingers still linger against his wrist and he can feel the heat radiating from your body, but you’re not close enough. And yet, he’s afraid to reach out, pull you into his arms. Afraid of the pity or obligation you’ll feel to comfort him, to allay all his fears.

As if reading his thoughts, you gently cup the side of his face, your nails scratching along his jaw. Logan flinches slightly, his body so used to pain these past months he’s almost forgotten the tenderness of your touch. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he closes his eyes, a ragged breath falling from his lips and his head dips forward. 

“C’mere,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

For a moment, he doesn’t move, but then he slides his arms along your back, pulling you against him. You feel real and solid and alive pressed this close. Never one for overt physical touch, Logan’s surprised by how much he missed this—the simple act of just holding you. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, his breath warm and damp against your skin. 

He doesn’t say anything, unsure where to even begin. The weight of his grief, his weariness, feels heavier than any burden he’s ever shouldered before and it’s almost desperate the way he clings to you. Like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth. If you were to let go, he’d fall apart. 

Logan doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels the hot trail of tears against his cheeks. You run your fingers through his hair, murmuring soft reassurances as you hold him. 

“I couldn’t feel you, Logan,” you whisper into his neck. “Several days of just…nothing. I thought that—”

The words lodge themselves in your throat, but he knows what they are just the same. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you, your eyes glistening with tears that match the ones rolling down his weathered face. Your expression is marred with pain, raw and unfiltered, but also with a bright flicker of relief. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, voice rough with emotion. “I got dragged into some bad fuckin’ shit. I almost…we—”

You quiet him with a soft brush of your fingers against his lips. “It’s okay, Logan,” you whisper. “Tell me about it later. I’m just happy you’re home.”

Home. 

Logan gaze softens at your words, but guilt gnaws at him. He doesn’t deserve this—your unwavering faith in him, the patience you’ve shown him, the light you’ve been in his dark, endless nights. But here you are, giving him everything he’s never asked for but so desperately craved. 

“C’mon,” you murmur, dragging him from his thoughts, “Let’s get you settled.”

It’s well past two in the morning by the time Logan finally carries Laura into the house, tucking her comfortably into the guest bedroom. Turning from the bed, he finds you there, leaning against the doorframe. You reach for him, in that soft, gentle way you always do, and lead him into your bedroom. 

He doesn’t protest when you sit him down at the edge of the bed and begin undressing him. Kneeling before him, you unlace his boots and peel off his socks, setting them aside. With a slight press to his knees, you force his legs wider, slotting yourself between them. 

Despite the late hour, the weariness and fatigue tugging at his bones, Logan feels his cock twitch as your fingers brush underneath the hem of his shirt. 

It’s been so long since he’s felt you. 

He dreamt of you, in those fevered moments where he didn’t know where one part of his body began or ended. When his entire existence had been boiled down to raw nerves and sluggishly knitting flesh. Through the haze of pain, he wondered if he’d ever feel your kiss again, feel the frantic press of your fingers into his shoulders, feel the warm, wet heat of your cunt stretching around him. 

You toss the shirt aside and he can feel your gaze lingering over the new scars, the pink, raised lines of flesh that are still healing. With a reverence he’s not worthy of, you trace your fingertips along the three jagged scars from where X-24 had ripped into him. 

“What happened to you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper as you move to trace more of his scars. 

Logan tells you then about Pierce and the Reavers, about Laura and the other mutant children. His throat grows tight as he continues, relaying the loss of Caliban, Charles and the Munsons, and the final confrontation between himself and his clone. 

He tells you how Laura saved him. How her and the other children brought him to safety over the Canadian border. How he spent the next months fighting with every fiber of his being to knit himself whole. 

For you. 

You lean into him as he looks away, jaw tightening as he tries to shove down the memories of everything he’s lost. Your touch is light against his face as you trace the angle of his jaw, and reach up to press the lightest of kisses against his lips. 

Logan exhales into your mouth as you kiss him again, soft and tender and warm. You seem to breathe him in, imbue life into his weary flesh and reignite the spark he’s kept alive for you. 

He wants to do more—to pull you into his arms, to taste you, to fuck into you until he can’t breathe. But exhaustion pulls heavily on his bones, threatening to sink him. 

Logan knows you can feel his hesitancy because you keep kissing him softly, punctuating each press of your lips with whispered reassurance. Your fingers card through his hair as you lean back. “Just let me hold you?” 

Your voice cracks at your request and Logan can only nod, unable to deny you. You help him shuffle out of his pants before coaxing him further into the bed. He moves slowly and he knows you don’t miss the creaking of his joints, the soft groan of discomfort. 

Coming to rest on his side, you tuck into him, throwing a leg over his hips and pulling him close. He sighs into your touch, the weight of the last few months pressing just a little bit less as you press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. 

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper into his skin, soft and damp. 

Logan feels his heart clench at your words. He’s hurt you. He knows that. Not just inadvertently with his most recent disappearance, but all the other times, too. Those times when he ran, afraid of what your words and touch meant. Afraid to accept what you’ve always so freely given. 

His hand slips under the hem of your shirt, fingers splaying across your back. “You kept the light on,” he husks, unable to keep the break out of his voice.”

Your lips quirk into a soft smile. “I always will, Logan.”

[meazalykov]

used and discarded

barcelona femeni x f!reader with features of romantic!esmee brugts x f!reader, platonic!alexia putellas x f!reader, and platonic!kika nazareth x f!reader.

warnings: abandonment, r being used, alcohol/getting drunk, r being put in a dangerous situation, angst but comforting

there was loud music, crowded spaces, or overpriced drinks in the city center of barcelona. 

one thing about you, you were never one to turn down a night out, not because you particularly enjoyed it but because you loved spending time with people. 

at least, that’s what you thought.  

your college friends had invited you out, something they didn’t do often, at least not unless they needed something from you. you didn’t think like that though. you just figured they were busy, and when they did ask you to come out, you were happy to say yes.  

so, here you were, sitting at a bar in the center of barcelona, your friends all huddled around a small table. your presence alone had drawn attention; a few people had recognized you when you walked in, whispering amongst themselves about how one of barcelona’s midfielders were in the building.

“y/n, let’s take a picture,” lee, the one who had invited you out, grinned, sliding into the seat next to you.  

“huh? oh, sure,” you said, barely processing before she was already adjusting her phone’s camera.  

you weren’t even sure what the picture was for, but you didn’t question it, simply smiling as she leaned in. after a few clicks, she was already typing away on her phone, most likely uploading it to her instagram story.  

you had barely touched your drink, still nursing your first one while everyone else was already onto their second or third. you didn’t mind, though. you were used to staying in control.  

“sooo,” lee dragged out, setting her phone down, “any chance you can get us into that club you went to with your teammates last week?”  

you blinked, recalling the team outing at a private lounge that had required special reservations. 

“oh… i don’t know. alexia was the one who set it up.”  

“you could ask, though, right?”  

“i mean, i could, but i think it was a one-time thing…”  

“come on, y/n,” another one of your friends, sophie, pouted, “you have connections. just ask.”  

you hesitated. you didn’t like using your status for favors, and you definitely didn’t like asking alexia for something that would obviously annoy her. you didn’t want to say no, either. you had a hard time with that.  

“i’ll see,” you finally said, earning a satisfied grin from sophie.  

before you could dwell on it, your phone buzzed on the table. you glanced down, seeing a text from kika.  

kika: you still out?  

you furrowed your brows, replying quickly.  

you: yeah, why?  

she read the message immediately. then, the typing bubble appeared before disappearing. a few seconds later, another message popped up.  

kika: just wondering. don’t get too drunk, bebé.  

you smiled at the nickname, a warmth settling in your chest. kika was always looking out for you, she was your best friend on the team.  

“who’s that?” sophie leaned over, glancing at your phone screen before you could lock it.  

“kika,” you answered easily.  

“ugh,” another friend, laura, groaned and rolled her eyes, “she doesn’t like us.”  

“what?” you asked, confused.  

sofía laughed, shaking her head, “y/n, you’re so oblivious. your teammates hate us.”  

your stomach twisted slightly at that. 

“they don’t hate you.”  

“they do,” laura insisted, “especially the famous one alexia. she glares at us every time she sees us with you.”  

“yeah, and your girlfriend esmee? she never even speaks to us.”  

you frowned. you had never noticed that. sure, alexia could be intimidating, but she wasn’t rude. and esmee was just… esmee. she wasn’t overly social to begin with. not since you started dating her over a year ago.

“maybe you’re imagining it,” you tried to reason.  

sophie smirked. 

“sure, y/n. keep telling yourself that.”  

the conversation moved on, but the thought lingered in your mind. was that really true? did your teammates really dislike your friends? why hadn’t they told you?  

you had no way of knowing that they had told you, just not directly. they had made snide comments, given you looks, even subtly tried to pull you away from your college friends and find better one. you, ever the optimist, had brushed it off every time. it wasn’t until you left the bar a couple of hours later to go to another one with all of your friends. 

the next club had flashing neon lights everywhere, the bass-heavy music that made your heart vibrate, and the taste of alcohol on your tongue. your friends had pulled you onto the dance floor, your laughter mixing with theirs as you all jumped to the beat of whatever song was blasting through the speakers. 

arms were thrown over shoulders, drinks raised in cheers, and cameras constantly flashing as you posed for pictures that you would probably only remember through instagram stories the next morning.  

it felt good to be carefree for once and to be normal. no football, no training schedules, no expectations…just you and your college friends, blending into the crowd. they hyped you up as you downed another shot, playfully teasing you when you scrunch your face at the burn. 

sophie had draped an arm around your shoulders at one point, grinning as she said, "this is so much better than all that football stuff, right? just us, no stress."  

you had laughed, nodding, "well i don’t knowwww this is just fun."  

now, standing in front of the mirror in the bar’s bathroom, you weren’t so sure.  

your reflection stared back at you…swollen cheeks, slightly unfocused eyes, hair a little messier than you remembered. you swallowed hard, gripping the sink as the dizziness hit you all at once.  

"shit," you mumbled, splashing cold water on your face.  

you had training tomorrow. well, later today, technically. afternoon practice, but still. your coaches always told you that recovery was just as important as training itself but here you were, drunk off your ass, wobbling slightly as you turned off the sink.  

oh well. it was one night. you barely go out anyways. so pushing the thought aside, you dried your hands and pulled out your phone, the screen nearly blinding you in the dim lighting.  

1:34 a.m

you sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket before pushing the door open and stepping back into the main part of the bar. the air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled drinks, and cheap cologne. the music pounded in your ears, and the crowd had only grown since you left.  

you expected to see your friends still dancing, still drinking, still having the time of their lives. as you looked around, scanning the room, something felt… off.  they weren’t at the table where you last saw them. they weren’t by the bar either.  

your stomach twisted slightly as you wove through the crowd, bumping into people as you checked each corner of the bar. maybe they had gone outside for fresh air? maybe they had moved to a different section?  

after ten minutes of searching, the pit in your stomach deepened.  

they were gone.  

pulling out your phone, you quickly tapped into the group chat.  

you: where did you guys go?  

no response.  

you bit your lip, stepping up to the bar counter, trying to steady yourself as you leaned in toward the bartender. 

"um, excuse me?"  

the bartender, a middle-aged woman who looked like she had seen it all with her blue hair and tired eyes, barely glanced at you as she wiped down the counter, "yeah?"  

"did you see a group of girls? they were all wearing black, and one of them had, uh, purple hair?"  

she nodded, "yeah, they left about fifteen, twenty minutes ago."  

you blinked, "oh. are you sure?"  

she finally looked at you then, raising a brow, "yeah, kid. saw them walk out together. didn’t see them come back."  

your lips parted slightly, almost offended since you were called a kid but no words came out. you stood there, frozen, gripping your phone a little tighter as the reality of the situation slowly sank in.  

they left without you and without telling you.  

quickly, you opened your messages again, typing another text.  

you: did you guys leave??  

the three dots appeared, then disappeared. your stomach dropped. another few seconds passed. then, one by one, you watched as your messages were marked as read.  

no response.  

you stared at the screen, heart pounding.  

they left you. they actually left you. 

you looked around the bar again, as if expecting them to magically reappear, to jump out and tell you it was just a joke. unfortunately, they weren’t there. the people around you were strangers, caught up in their own worlds, unaware of the sinking feeling in your chest.  

your breath hitched as you tried to reason with yourself. maybe they thought you had already left. maybe they were too drunk and forgot to text you.  deep down, you knew the truth.  

they didn’t care.  

they had used you for pictures, for attention, for the free drinks you had bought earlier in the night. they had laughed with you, danced with you, but when the time came to actually care about you, they had walked out without a second thought.  

your hands trembled slightly as you locked your phone, shoving it into your pocket. you suddenly felt so stupid for believing they were your real friends and for thinking they actually liked you. you hated yourself for letting yourself get this drunk and careless when you had training tomorrow.  

the realization hit you like a truck.  

you were alone.

your fingers trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself. deep breaths. in through your nose, out through your mouth. it wasn’t working. your chest was tight, your vision was swimming, and the realization that you were completely alone in a barcelona bar at nearly 2 a.m only made it worse.  

you swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill. you were not going to cry here. not in front of all these strangers and not where anyone could see you breaking down.  

so you did the only thing you could think of, you got up on shaky legs and pushed through the crowd, stumbling your way back to the bathroom. once inside, you locked yourself in the farthest stall and collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest as the first sob broke free.  

this wasn’t fair.  

you just wanted to feel normal, to have a life outside of football. was that too much to ask? unfortunately, this is what you got for trusting people, for believing that they actually cared about you. you frowned realizing that your teammates were right.  

you hiccupped, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, but the tears wouldn’t stop. you had never felt so stupid in your life. your phone buzzed in your lap, and for a moment, you debated ignoring it. when you sniffled and glanced down, your blurry vision barely made out the contact name ‘esmee <3’ and a tiktok link she had sent.  

your breath hitched. she was awake and without thinking, you clicked on her contact and hit call.  

it rang once.  

twice.   

“hey,” esmee’s voice came through, casual, like she hadn’t just been sent into a call unexpectedly from her girlfriend at 2 o’clock in the morning. 

“are you good?”  

the second you heard her voice, everything inside you cracked open.  

“esmee,” you choked out, your words tumbling over each other in a drunken panic, “i— i’m scared, i don’t–i-i i don’t know where i am, i was just having fun and then they.. fuck! they left me and i can’t find them and i-i- i don’t know how to get home..”  

“hey, hey, slow down” esmee’s voice sharpened, her usual laid-back tone replaced with concern and fear after hearing your cries, “where are you?”  

you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against your knee. 

“some bar. near the beach. a..um.. an old fashioned speakeasy like bar, i think? i don’t know which one.”  

“okay,” esmee said, her voice calm but urgent, “send me your location, yeah? you know how to do that?”  

you nodded quickly before realizing she couldn’t see you. 

“y-yeah,” you stammered, but when you tried to exit the call and open the app, your fingers felt clumsy, your mind sluggish from the alcohol.  

“shit, hold on,” you muttered, fumbling with your phone.  

“you got it, love?” esmee asked, softer now, but still worried.  

“i.. um? i think? wait!”  

you cursed under your breath as you clicked the wrong thing twice, your breathing getting quicker the longer it took. finally, finally, you managed to send her your live location.  

“got it,” she confirmed almost immediately, “okay, i’m coming. just stay on the phone with me, alright?”  

you sniffled, “i.. i’m so sorry, es. i didn’t mean to wake you up!”  

“you didn’t wake me,” she interrupted, “i was already up waiting for you to get home safely before i went to sleep...”  

you couldn’t stop apologizing. the shame, the embarrassment, the fear…it was all too much. it was then when another thought slammed into you like a freight train.  

alexia.  

your breath hitched, and fresh tears welled in your eyes.  

“esmee,” you whimpered, “am i gonna get in trouble?”  

she hesitated for a second. 

“what do you mean?”  

“alexia,” you choked out, “she’s gonna be so mad. i— we have training tomorrow and now i— i’m drunk and stupid and i…”  

your voice cracked as sobs overtook you again.  

“hey, hey, stop that,” esmee said quickly, “we’ll deal with that later, okay? i’ll talk to her.. right now, i just need you to breathe. i’m on my way. just hold on for me, alright?”  

you tried, you really did. however, you couldn’t stop crying.  

“it’s gonna be okay,” esmee reassured you, voice unwavering, “just stay with me. i’m coming to get you.”

esmee arrived faster than you thought possible. by the time you stepped out of the bar, still clutching your phone with shaky fingers, she was already getting out of her car, eyes scanning the drunk and hyped up crowd until they locked onto you.  

“y/n,” she breathed out in relief, rushing toward you.  

you sniffled, rubbing your arms, the cold night air making your already trembling body shake even more. esmee’s face softened as she took in your red-rimmed eyes, the way you were shivering not just from the weather but from the way the alcohol was leaving your system too fast.  

without a second thought, she shrugged off her jacket and draped it over your shoulders. 

“oh my, you’re freezing,” she muttered, rubbing your arms through the fabric. you swallowed hard, feeling your throat close up. 

“i-i didn’t know what to do,” you admitted in a small, broken voice.  

esmee sighed, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

 “it’s okay, you’re safe now,” she reassured, looping an arm around your waist. 

“come on, let’s get you to the car.”  

she guided you toward the passenger side, opening the door and helping you in before buckling your seatbelt for you when she noticed your fingers weren’t cooperating. once she was sure you were settled, she jogged around to the driver’s side, getting in and turning up the heat the second she started the engine.  

you curled into yourself, esmee’s jacket engulfing you as you tried to stop the shivers wracking your body.  

“i’m taking you to mine,” esmee announced as she pulled out of the parking lot, “i don’t feel good about leaving you alone like this.”  

you didn’t argue. you couldn’t. you just nodded, eyes unfocused as you stared at the dashboard.  

the drive was quiet, except for the occasional sniffle from you and the sound of esmee tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, deep in thought. when you arrived, esmee wasted no time guiding you inside, kicking off her shoes as she led you to the bathroom. 

“you should shower,” she told you gently, already reaching for a fresh towel from the shelf, “it’ll help you feel better.”  

you nodded numbly, taking the towel from her hands. before you could turn away, she added, “i put a t-shirt of mine and some sweatshorts on the counter for you. they’ll be warmer than what you have on.”  

you swallowed back another wave of emotion, touched by her care. 

“thank you, es. i love you.”  

she gave you a small, reassuring smile. 

“i love you too. take your time, okay?”  

you took a longer shower than you intended, letting the hot water soak into your skin and wash away the night. when you finally emerged, dressed in esmee’s warm, oversized clothes, she was waiting for you in the kitchen with a glass of water and a packet of vitamin c on the counter.  

“drink,” she instructed, sliding the glass toward you.  

you did as told, drinking slowly, your hands still trembling slightly around the cup.  

when you finished, esmee nodded approvingly and motioned toward the her bedroom. 

“come on, let’s get you to bed.”  

you followed her, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. the moment you curled up under the blankets, your body felt heavier, your eyelids drooping almost immediately.  esmee crouched beside you, tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. 

“get some sleep, yeah? we have training tomorrow.”  

your stomach clenched at the mention of training. will alexia get super mad for your irresponsibility?

esmee seemed to read your mind. 

“don’t worry about anything right now,” she said softly, “just sleep.”  

you nodded sluggishly, already halfway to unconsciousness. once your breathing evened out, esmee sat back on her heels, exhaling slowly. the dutch woman’s gaze flickered toward her phone.  

should she call alexia?  

es’ fingers hovered over the screen, debating. if she didn’t tell her, alexia would find out eventually. and if you didn’t say anything, esmee would.  

she locked her phone with a sigh.  

tomorrow. she’d deal with it tomorrow.

fourteen hours later and training felt like a nightmare. your body moved, your legs carried you through drills, your passes were sharp and physically you were fine. however you felt destroyed mentally. you were barely holding it together.  

the people you thought were your friends had left you and abandoned you in the middle of the night, drunk, alone, in a city that wasn’t really your home. yes, you’ve played at barcelona for two seasons so far but you did not grow up here. the more you thought about it, the worse it hurt and it was obvious to your team.  

you weren’t laughing at vicky’s jokes like usual. when salma hugged you, you barely hugged back.when  patri nudged you playfully at one point, expecting you to counter her with one of your usual surprise tackles, but you just stared at her blankly before looking away.  

the energy you normally carried was gone and alexia noticed, of course she did.  

she watched you closely throughout training, her brows furrowed every time she caught the vacant look in your eyes or the way your jaw clenched like you were holding something in. she had asked you once,

"you okay?" 

and you had lied to her,  

"yeah, i’m fine."

esmee, stretching beside you, visibly cringed at the words. she knew the truth. she had seen you break down in her living room hours ago, your voice cracking as you admitted how scared you had been, how stupid you felt for trusting them. she didn’t say anything, not yet, not until after training.  

when the session finally ended, you trudged off the field, heading toward the locker room before anyone could pull you aside but alexia was faster.  

“y/n,” she called, her voice leaving no room for argument.  

you turned around, your heartbeat picking up when you saw the sharp look in her eyes, “yeah?”  she stared at you for a moment, like she was waiting for you to break on your own. when you didn’t, she took a slow breath and asked again, “are you okay?”  

the same question but this time, her voice was firmer.  

you swallowed, forcing yourself to nod. 

“yeah. just tired.”  

the blonde woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, but before she could press further, esmee stepped in.  

“alexia,” esmee said, voice calm but firm.  

alexia turned to her, raising an eyebrow.  

esmee sighed, rubbing the back of her neck knowing that you would not tell alexia the truth out of embarrassment. 

“can i talk to you? privately.”  

alexia’s gaze flickered back to you briefly before she nodded. 

“of course.”  

you watched as esmee led her a few steps away, out of earshot. your stomach twisted, knowing exactly what was coming next.  

esmee exhaled deeply before starting. 

“she’s not okay,” she said flatly.  

alexia crossed her arms, “i know that. i’m just waiting for her to tell me the truth.”  

esmee shook her head. 

“she won’t.” she paused before continuing, “she went out with her college friends last night and got really drunk.”  

alexia’s jaw tightened.  

“and they left her,” esmee added, voice dropping slightly, “like…literally left her alone in a bar, drunk, with no way home.” alexia’s expression darkened immediately, “what?”  

esmee nodded grimly, “she called me in a panic at almost two in the morning. crying, scared out of her mind. she didn’t even know where she was at first. she could barely get her location to send.”  

alexia’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.  

“she is staying at my home for a while,” esmee continued, “i am making sure that she is okay, as her girlfriend and all. this morning wasn’t good at all, she is messed up about it. i mean, imagine thinking these people are your friends and then they just leave you when you’re at your most vulnerable. gosh it makes me want to tackle them and make sure that my cleat hits their shin or something..”  

alexia exhaled slowly, trying to keep her composure, “why didn’t you guys tell me this happened?”  

esmee hesitated, “because she’s embarrassed and because she didn’t want you to be disappointed in her.”  

alexia ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply, “i’m not disappointed. i’m fucking furious…not at her, at those fucking smartasses.”  

esmee nodded, “yeah. me too.”  

alexia’s gaze flickered back to where you were sitting on the bench, staring down at your hands, looking so small and tired.  

“she needs to hear it from you,” esmee said gently, “that you’re not mad at her since she won’t believe me when i tell her.”  

alexia nodded, setting her jaw, “i’ll talk to her.”  

esmee clapped a hand on her shoulder, “good. and, uh… maybe be soft about it, yeah?”  

alexia rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance there, “i can be soft, you know.”  

esmee smirked, “mm-hmm. you better be.”  

alexia took a deep breath and started walking toward you.

however, you were gone.

you didn’t bother waiting for cooldown stretches, didn’t linger in the locker room like usual, didn’t stay to laugh with the team or chat about plans for the rest of the day. the second the coach dismissed you, you grabbed your bag and sprinted out, ignoring the confused voices calling after you.  

"now what was that about?" aitana muttered, glancing at kika.  

kika frowned, her confusion mirroring the rest of the team’s. when she turned to esmee and alexia, her brows furrowed even further at the way they shared a look…one that screamed ‘we know exactly what’s wrong.’  

“what the fuck happened?” kika asked, her gaze darting between them.  

neither alexia nor esmee answered.  

instead, alexia let out a slow breath, eyes still fixed on the exit you had just bolted through. 

by the time you reached your apartment, your entire body ached…not from training, but from exhaustion, from the emotional weight sitting heavy in your chest. you barely registered the way your hands trembled as you unlocked the door, throwing your bag onto the couch before heading straight to the bathroom.  

the second the hot water hit your skin, you broke.  

sobs wracked through you, the sound bouncing off the shower tiles as you clutched your chest, feeling like you were falling apart. you had already blocked them, every single one of them on every social media platform, and on your phone, making sure that you cut them out of your life.  however, it didn’t make you feel any better because no matter how much you tried to erase them, the damage was done.  

they had left you drunk, alone, and vulnerable. you could’ve been hurt. you could’ve been taken advantage of. the more you thought about it, the more sick you felt. were they laughing about it now? did they think it was funny? did they plan to do that to you?  

you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against the shower wall, trying to drown the thoughts out with the sound of the water. however, nothing helped. by the time you ran out of tears, your chest physically ached. you dried yourself off, threw on a pair of pajamas, and crawled into bed.  

it was barely 5 p.m., but you didn’t care. last night had given you almost no sleep, and all you wanted was to escape into unconsciousness but just as your body started to relax, the doorbell rang rapidly… over and over.  

your stomach dropped.  

no. you squeezed your eyes shut, willing whoever it was to just go away but the ringing didn’t stop. with a heavy, exhausted sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed, pulling your hoodie tighter around you as you made your way to the door.  

the second you opened it, your heart nearly stopped.  

your girlfriend. alexia. kika.  

fuck.  

you swallowed, gripping the door handle tightly, too drained to even process the why behind their presence but without a word, you stepped aside, letting them in.  

you barely had time to turn before alexia was on you, wrapping you in a tight embrace, her arms locking around your shoulders.  

“why would they do this to you?” her voice cracked slightly, thick with emotion.  

your chest clenched. your breath hitched. and just like that…you broke all over again. a choked sob escaped your throat as you clung to alexia, your fingers digging into the back of her shirt as you cried into her shoulder.  

“i- i don’t know,” you hiccupped, shaking your head against her, “i don’t know what i did to them… why they hate me?”  

“they don’t hate you,” kika interrupted firmly, gently pulling you toward the couch, “they’re just terrible and evil people. and you did nothing to deserve that.”  

you let yourself sink into the cushions, your body feeling heavy from exhaustion and heartbreak.  kika sat beside you, rubbing soothing circles into your back, while esmee… who had been quiet up until now since she moved beside you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders while giving light kisses on your shoulder blade.  

“that was maybe the scariest moment of my life,” you admitted quietly, voice hoarse from crying, “i was so drunk… i didn’t know where i was… and they just left me. i should’ve just stayed my ass home.”  

esmee squeezed you tighter, her warmth comforting against your shaking body. “you’re safe now,” she murmured, “they don’t get to hurt you anymore.”  

alexia, who had taken a seat on the coffee table in front of you, reached forward, gently tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. “listen to me,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions in her eyes. “you are not trash. you are not disposable. they used you because you’re kind, because you give without expecting anything in return and that’s not a flaw, y/n. that’s what makes you, you. you just have to learn how to set boundaries..”  

you sniffled, looking down at your lap, “it doesn’t feel like a good thing right now.”  

alexia’s fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. 

you swallowed hard, more tears welling in your eyes, “but how do i stop feeling like this?”  

“time,” kika said softly, still rubbing your back, “and us. we’re not letting you go through this alone.”  

esmee kissed the top of your head, “no more shitty friends. you have the team, and you have me.”  

you exhaled shakily, nodding, even though your chest still ached.  

kika stood suddenly, stretching before heading toward the kitchen, “i’m making you tea. you need something warm in you.”  

“cabinet above the sink,” you mumbled, sniffling again.  

“got it,” kika called back.  

alexia stayed in front of you, her fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as she continued to study you, as if trying to will away all of your pain just by being there.  

“i should’ve noticed sooner,” alexia murmured, voice laced with guilt.  

you shook your head quickly. 

“it’s not your fault, alexia.”  

she clenched her jaw, clearly not convinced. but instead of arguing, she simply sighed and leaned back slightly.  

“you’re staying with esmee for while,” she decided firmly.  

“yes! you might as well move in with me at this point since we’ve been talking about it. i don’t want you to be alone right now either...” esmee interrupted before you could object. 

you nodded weakly, whispering while looking at your girlfriend, “okay.”  

masterlist

author's note: this is my 1000th post lol

[dismalflo]

intervene

Poly!marauders x reader where james is oblivious to being flirted with ✩ 875 words

cw: reader is a lil jealous, fluff, established relationship

"She's obviously flirting with him, Rem," you murmur petulantly from your place on Remus’s lap. You've nestled yourself in a cozy armchair away from the chaos of the party, the two of you being the quieter pair in comparison to your more energetic boyfriends. Sirius had wandered off a while ago to do god knows what, and James—lovely, oblivious James—is standing across the room, completely unaware that the girl next to him is flirting with him. And, of course, you can’t help but glare at her from your spot.

"I know, dove," Remus replies with a lazy smile, pausing to squeeze your waist. His tone turns teasing as he adds, "I have eyes."

You whip your head around to look at him, incredulous. "You—you know? That's it? You're not going to do anything about it?" Your dramatics earn a soft smile from him, as he gently moves his hands to cup your face.

He plants a few quick kisses over your cheeks in an effort to placate you. And it works. You melt into Remus, happy to be doted on. Despite the noisy room full of people, in this moment with him, everything feels peaceful.

"I'm not doing anything about it because he keeps looking over at us and…" Remus’s mischievous glint catches your eye, that familiar spark he and the others get whenever they’re scheming. "Just imagine what Pads will do when he comes back and sees it."” 

Your jaw drops. "Oh, you're mean when you want to be." Despite the words, you cuddle in closer to Remus, and he beams down at you, his chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

"Mean? Me?" He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your temple as he continues to hold you close. "I’m just enjoying the show."

You glance back over at James and the girl. She’s still leaning in, giggling all but ignoring James’s distracted response. A strange mix of protective instinct and possessiveness bubbles up inside you. Just as you’re about to shuffle out of Remus’s lap and go retrieve James, you spot Sirius making his way over to him

You straighten up, suddenly feeling a little more tense. Remus’s arms tighten around you as he notices the shift in your demeanor.

“Here comes trouble,” he murmurs with a knowing smile, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You can hardly hear the boys from where you’re sat but you do see the over the top fervent kiss Sirius gives James, the smitten smile on the curly haired boy afterwards, and the hardened features of Sirius’ face as he talks to the girl that was flirting a minute ago. Obviously she gets the hint, she walks off in the opposite direction and the two boys walk towards you and Remus.

Sirius arrives looking smug, bending down to give out kisses like he’s handing out gifts

"You’re welcome, poppet," he teases, and maybe your jealousy wasn’t as well hidden as you thought. Remus barks a laugh at your expense. James, still confused, looks from Sirius to you and back again, trying to process what just happened.

"Wait, what—did you—?" James stammers, blinking in surprise.

Sirius grins, savoring the moment. "Oh, I just, you know… intervened," he says with a dramatic flourish, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“She was flirting with you James.” Remus says bluntly, filling in the gaps of James’ knowledge. 

James looks at Remus with wide eyes, his face flushing a bit as the realization hits him. “What? She was? I—well, I wasn’t paying attention, was I?” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, still trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

You snicker at James’ obliviousness, then glance at Sirius, whose expression is a perfect mix of satisfaction and mischief. “Well done, siri”

James’s expression brightens with recognition, and he grins playfully. "So you sicced the dog on me, you little minx," he teases. "If you were jealous, you could’ve just said so."

You flush embarrassed to be caught and sink further into Remus’ embrace trying to hide from the teasing.

"Oi, I’m not a bloody dog," Sirius interjects, wrapping an arm around James and pulling him closer. "And you seemed to enjoy that kiss, Prongs."

James laughs, leaning into Sirius’s embrace, still a little dazed but clearly amused. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly complaining about it," he says with a wink. "And sorry for making you terribly jealous by accident, lovely."

You huff, "It wasn’t terribly—"

"It was, dove," Remus cuts in, his voice teasing as he remembers the dramatic pout you put on earlier.

"My poor baby," James exclaims, leaning over to pepper kisses all over your face, then doing the same to Remus just because he can.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. You can feel the warmth of Remus’ arms around you, his steady presence grounding you as the teasing continues. James leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and you can’t help but melt a little into him.

Sirius chuckles at the sight of you relaxing, finally breaking from your earlier pout. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teases, his smirk turning into something softer when you give him a playful shove.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! <3

[ohlookitsabluejay]

Okay so my family rented a beach house in North Carolina one time and we were walking along the beach with my dog (who was like, I think a year old. He’s turning four this year) and we came across this lady who had this big black lab. Usually this would not be a problem except for the fact that this fucking lady was SO clearly on drugs or some shit and she see’s us and is all like “oh they can play!” And stuff and we were trying to politely decline but she would not shut up and so we just turned around to avoid her and started walking the other way.

And you know what she did? SHE LET HER FUCKING DOG OFF LEASH AND HE CAME BARRELING TOWARDS US AND JUMPED AT MY DOG.

I don’t remember if the dog was being aggressive or not, but he was way too big and playing way too rough for my pup. And so my cousin grabs this dog by the collar to hold him off my puppy (who I’m pretty sure was being pinned to the ground) and holds him back while my dad picks up my dog.

Meanwhile we’re all yelling at this stupid woman to come get her dog and she’s just walking towards us taking her sweet fucking time while my cousin was literally wrestling with her dog.

Eventually she came and got him and idk what she said but she went back to her tent thing and we just walked away with my dad still carrying my dog.

Once she got back though she let him go AGAIN and thankfully he stayed with her but she’s all happy yelling at him saying “you’re allowed to have fun!!!” Like fucking hell woman that was the opposite of fun that was traumatic

We got away from her eventually and let my pup walk again. He was fine.

i wish dog owners would shut the fuck up sometimes

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Learning Curves 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: 00line+Mark x Reader ☆ WORD COUNT: 30k ★ GENRE(S): Smut, PWP, just vibes frfr ☆ SUMMARY: After spending Winter break with Jisung's family, you and Mark reignite a friendship that evolves into FWB. However, when the 00line discovers that you've been skipping out on time with them to be with Mark, they aren’t too pleased. ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. creampie, riding, dry humping, cunnilingus, bdsm, leash, use of spreader bar, iceplay, orgasm denial, fingering, voyeurism, shower sex, blowjob, lip biting which causes minor injury, switch Haechan, guided masturbation, choking, slapping, rough/forceful sex, thigh riding, slight coercion, reader gets train ran on her, free use?, MDNI ☆★ NOTES: I’m trying something new where I link the sex position im talking about because i suck at describing them so i usually try to stay away from anything other than missionary and doggy but thats lame and i want to write interesting sex scenes so if your confused on what the hell I'm talking about during a scene just click the link for the photo lmaoooo. LCpt.1 Here ao3 Link (like here before you leave TT)

You pull the blanket tighter around you, trying to warm up. Your space heater is humming in the background hard at work, but it's still not enough to fully heat up the apartment. You've been complaining about the heating system for weeks, and now it seems to have finally broken down.

You scroll through your social media feed and see videos of your friends laughing with their families, enjoying the holiday season together. Honestly, it makes you smile. You're genuinely happy for them, even if it stirs a little longing in your heart. You had opted out of going home for the holidays, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family so you were more than content with staying home. You double-tap on each post when a notification pops up. It's Jisung, he was going home today and had been begging you to come over to help him pack.

You [2:31 pm] Ji for the last time its too cold to go anywhere I finally got warm and Im not getting up again

Ji [2:32 pm] come on!!!! I dont ask you for anything plus how many favors do you owe me??? >:(

With a sigh of frustration, you toss off the blankets. The cold air instantly bites at your skin. It was a lot chillier in your apartment than you realized.

You shiver as you layer up and put on your good boots, the thought of Jisung's warmer apartment lifting your spirits for the time being.

Outside, you have to be careful with your footing. You cautiously make your way to your car and drive to his dorm. When you arrive, you knock and as soon as he opens the door, you reach out and pinch his arm.

“Oww, oww, oww!” He yelps, rubbing at the spot you’d pinched.

“Do you know how cold it is out there?!” you exclaim pushing past him into the room.

You surveyed his dorm room, your gaze taking in the chaotic scene before you. There were mountains of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, seemingly the result of Jisungs carelessness as he rushed to pack. Carefully making your way through the haphazard landscape, you navigate your way toward his bed.

Jisung ignores your complaints, bustling around the room and shoving a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Listen, I’m sorry! Can you just come sit on this for a sec?” he whines.

You huff but get up anyway. You plop down on his suitcase successfully compressing it while Jisung zips it closed. He fell back onto the floor with a satisfied sigh. You spend the next few minutes helping him straighten up before finally collapsing onto his warm bed. "So," you asked, settling back against the pillows, "is your family doing anything special for the holidays?"

“Yeah, my grandma rented a cabin for the family get-together,” he says, and suddenly looks at you in realization. “Wait, why are you still here? You’re not going home for the holidays?” He asks eyes wide in disbelief.

You shrug, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents.”

Jisung's expression shifts to concern. “Come home with me! You can’t stay by yourself over the holidays. It would be so much fun!”

You hesitate, considering his offer. You’ve always had a good relationship with Jisung’s family. They’ve welcomed you before, and his mom cooks like a dream. It feels tempting, but you worry about intruding.

“Are you sure it’s not too last minute?” you ask, biting your lip.

Jisung shakes his head vigorously, a determined look on his face. “My mom would kill me if she found out I let you spend the holidays alone. She always says her door is open for you, and I know she’d be so happy to see you. Plus, it’d make things way more fun!”

Maybe your winter break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

"You have reached the mailbox of…"

Ever since winter break, that’s all Haechan had been hearing. You’d been taking hours to respond to his texts, ignoring his and everyone's calls, and overall being pretty flaky. Whenever they pressed you an explanation, you just responded with half-hearted excuses.

I’m busy.

Sorry, can’t talk right now.

I’ll call you back later.

Finally after several failed attempts he managed to get you to come over under the pretext of a movie night with the guys. You were bundled up together under a heavy blanket, Haechan on one side and Jaemin on the other. The warmth of their bodies keeps away the night's chill. Haechan was working his hand up your thigh when your phone buzzed, casting a soft glow across your face. The smile that spread on your lips made his stomach twist with jealousy. You quickly typed something back and locked your phone before he could catch a glimpse of what had made you light up.

You let out a fake yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Sorry, guys, I think I’ll have to call it a night.”

Before he could protest, you were already gathering your things. “You don’t want to stay for a little while longer. We’ve only got an hour left of the movie,” Jeno called from his spot on the couch, looking slightly disappointed.

“Sorry pup, I can’t,” you said, walking over to him and stealing a quick peck on his lips.

As you turned to leave, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the door closes behind you he turns to his roommates. “She’s replacing us, isn’t she?” Haechan muttered.

“Dude, relax. It’s late she’s probably just tired,” Jeno replied, trying to be the logic that Haechan seemed to lack.

“Well, she could have slept over here! Nothing was stopping her before!” Haechan shot back.

“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie!” Renjun snapped, glancing at them with irritation.

“And I’m trying to fuck, so I guess we’re both out of luck!” Haechan grumbled, throwing his head back against the couch.

Jaemin, who had been quietly huddled under the blanket, suddenly yanked it away from Haechan, seemingly unwilling to share any longer now that you were gone. “Jeno’s right, she’s probably just tired. Besides, how could she replace us?”

Haechan wanted to believe Jeno, to cling to the hope that you were telling the truth and were just too busy. But as the minutes passed and the movie flickered on, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut that something else was going on.

—

You were sitting at your vanity, doing your makeup when your phone buzzed with a notification. A smile crept onto your face as you read the message. Once you slipped on your heels by the door, you left your apartment and headed to join your friends waiting in the car.

“Where is he?” Mia asked curiously.

“He’s going to meet me there,” you replied, feeling your heart flutter in excitement at the thought of seeing him.

“I can’t believe you two are talking again!” Yuna cooed, her eyes wide with playful disbelief.

The car was filled with the sound of laughter and gossip as you caught up with your friends, sharing stories about what happened over winter break. You can't help but sing along to the music that plays in the car as your friends chatted excitedly about the night ahead. You belted out the lyrics to your favorite song, your voice a little off-key but you don’t care, you were tipsy and in a great mood. You felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the uber driver to listen to your terrible singing and the all-too-detailed gossip.

Once you arrive at the party, the bass of the music has your blood rushing with excitement. The living room was packed with people on the makeshift dance floor. You and the girls quickly made your way to the kitchen, where the clinking of glass and shouts of joy sound off into the night. You grabbed a couple of drinks and toasted to a night of fun.

It wasn’t long before your friends began to scatter, each one disappeared into the sea of bodies, eyes sparkling with trouble as they searched for their one-night stands. You didn’t mind, you hadn’t come to the party for them. Your heart was set on finding the one person you had been eagerly waiting to see all night. With a determined smile, you navigated through the crowded living room.

“Mark!” you called, spotting him talking with a few friends. As soon as he heard your voice, he looked up and broke into a smile. He quickly made his way over and engulfed you in a warm hug.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over the dress you had picked out for the night.

You turn shy under his compliment. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling a timid smile tugging at your lips.

Mark turned to his friends and excused himself, allowing you to drag him away. The house was dimly lit but you could still see how excruciatingly handsome he was under the flashing lights. You navigated through the mass of people until you reached the dance floor. His hands found your waist. He pulled you against him, your back pressed firmly against his chest before swaying your hips in time with the music.

His breath fanned against your neck as he leaned in. “Pretty girl…” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down your neck. “Want me to take you home?”

You catch his gaze as you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and you can feel yourself growing wet already. You turned in his embrace until you were facing him, pressing your lips against his as you nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd, a wicked smile dancing on your face as you followed him.

Once outside, he pushed you up against his car, his lips claiming yours again. You hear the car beep as he fumbles with his keys to unlock it. Your hands tangled in his hair as he explored your body, fingers gliding up your thigh and pushing your dress dangerously high. You needed him now, you couldn’t wait. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, you pulled him into the backseat of the car, the tinted windows providing the perfect level of privacy.

Unbeknownst to you, another car had been watching you since they pulled up nearby. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin were inside, their eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before them.

Renjun had given everyone a pep talk on the drive here about finding someone to hook up with to distract from thoughts of you. Renjun had put the car in park when he saw you stumbling across the street.

“Is that Jisung’s cousin?” Renjun asked, squinting at the sight before him.

“Where?” Haechan perked up, looking up from his phone.

“So that's where she’s been?” Jaemin questioned.

“No way, maybe they’re just friends,” Jeno said, but he quickly corrected himself. “Or not,” he muttered, watching as Mark pushed you against the car and kissed you passionately.

A humorless laugh escaped Haechan’s lips. “I fucking told you guys.” He says, eyes following the way your fingers tangle in Mark's hair.

They had intended to get out of the car, but now they found themselves watching in stunned silence as the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged up. They weren’t quite sure how long they sat there until you finally slid out of the backseat, pulling your dress down haphazardly. a stupid grin plastered itself on your face as you climbed into the passenger seat.

Jaemin knew that look. You were fucked out and it was driving him up a wall that he wasn’t the one who did it.

“Don’t let this discourage you,” Renjun chimed in, forcing the most upbeat tone he could manage. “We can still have fun, right guys?” But one glance around the car told him it wasn't the right moment for another pep talk.

They had finally realized why you had been acting strange and no one was in the mood to party.

Earlier, inside the car…

Mark was lost in a haze of desire, pushing your dress up past your hips. His warm hands setting your skin ablaze against the cool night air. You straddled his waist and grind against him, the rough fabric of his jeans provided a delicious friction that left you shuddering. His lips left bruises along your collarbone, and you tugged at his hair, bringing him closer for another heated kiss. His lips were so soft, like plush clouds you could easily get lost in—they were absolutely perfect. You kissed him feverishly, your hands roaming over the skin beneath his shirt. Exploring the contours of his strong chest, your fingers trailed downward until they hovered at his waistband. You nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away.

“Are you going to let me have it?” you asked sweetly, blinking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You deserve it, baby. Take it,” he breathed, his voice filled with urgency.

With a quick motion, you unzipped his pants and positioned yourself over him, tracing his tip through your folds, soaking him in your juices. Every brush against you sent shivers up your spine.

“That’s it, baby, just like that. It’s yours, go ahead,” he encouraged, his voice a low whisper.

You sank down onto him with a moan, feeling him fill you completely. He was deep and the sensation was everything you’d craved. You lost yourself in the rhythm, pulling him to kiss you again as you rode him. His hands grip your hips harshly as you take him. His breaths were choppy and his eyes fluttered, unable to stay open from the pleasure. You circle your hips fluidly, it was a trick that you knew drove haechan crazy, you wonder if it would work on mark?

HIs hips thrust up sharply and he groaned. He spread his thighs a little wider and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hitching. “You feel so good.”

You were just getting started, you were going to drive him crazy. You slam your hips down hard, a sharp contrast of the precise movements a moment ago. You bounce on his cock roughly, grinding down hard when his hips meet yours. You leaned back on his knees for leverage and continued to ride him. His hands try to hold your hips still. He needed a moment, he didn't want to cum yet.

“Let go, baby, I got you,” you whispered, determined to push him to the brink.

He shook his head, desperation lacing his voice. “Not yet, I can’t.”

The next moment he's pulling you off of him. He was strong and despite your best efforts you couldn't stop him from switching your positions. He had pinned you down on your back, legs over his waist and lips pressed against yours. He needed a moment to catch his breath and he could tell from the look in your eyes you weren't going to give him one unless he took control.

“Be a good girl and do what I say,” he warned.

You nodded obediently. You would do whatever he wanted to get him back inside of you, you didn't care. “Keep those legs open,” he instructed, then finally pushed inside you.

You bite back a loud moan as he thrusts into you. His face was buried in your neck as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper. Your head was hitting the car door with each thrust but you were too far gone to care. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you with each thrust. You were close and with a few more sharp thrusts you were spilling all over him and dripping down the leather seats of his car.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Mark moaned, his grip tightening on your cheeks as he opened your mouth. “Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered before spitting into your mouth. His pointer and middle finger rest against your tongue as he makes sure you swallow it before hooking his fingers into your mouth. He fucks you like that, eyes glazed over as he watches you suck against his fingers

His hips grow erratic, the sight of you, saliva dripping down your face and pussy spasming around his cock in overstimulation pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside of you and watched the cum drip as he pulled out.

When you eventually slipped out of the car, a stupid smile plastered itself across your face. Clenching your legs tight, you tried to hold him inside as you settled into the passenger seat. Little did you know, four pairs of eyes were still watching from the distant shadows.

—

"So, where did you and Mark run off to last night?" Yuna asks, flanked by your other friends, Mia, Chenle, and Yang Yang, as you make your way to the library.

“A true lady never kisses and tells,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Except you’re not a lady, you’re a whore,” Mia elbows you playfully. “Now spill! What’s going on with you and Mark? Last I checked, you ghosted him.”

“You guys are so nosy,” you roll your eyes.

“Stop acting like it’s not killing you to keep this a secret,” Chenle urges.

You huff, feigning annoyance. “Fine! Since you guys won’t stop hounding me…”

A chorus of cheers and laughter erupts from the group, and you can’t help but smile shyly.

“We started talking again over winter break, during Jisung’s family vacation.”

“Wait, he was there?” Chenle asks, surprised.

“Duh, idiot. It’s called a family vacation for a reason,” Yang Yang retorts, shoving Chenle lightly.

As the group grows increasingly chaotic, you near the library. “Alright, guys, I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, shoo! I’m meeting Mark at the library.”

A chorus of teasing “ooohs” rings out as you wave them away like pesky flies.

When you arrived with Jisung to spend the holidays with his family, you were completely surprised to see Mark roll in later that day. You hadn’t expected Mark to be there. You should have anticipated it, given that they’re cousins, but it totally slipped your mind. At first, it was awkward given the fact that you had ghosted him for seemingly no reason, and now here you were at his family vacation trying to make small talk.

You eventually hashed things out and grew closer. You spent the break catching up with Mark while hanging out with Jisung and his family. After the break, you had started hanging out alone more frequently. It felt like a spark reignited between you two.The tension in your hangouts grew, conversations became flirtatious, and lingering gazes turned heated, until one of those moments finally snapped. You and Mark tangled together, exploring each other desperately while he fucked you six ways to sunday. You had agreed to keep things casual, Mark had just gotten out of a relationship a few months ago and wasn’t ready to dive back in.

That’s what led you to your current situation.

It’s not that you wanted to flake on the guys; you just happened to be really into Mark right now. You used to be so down bad for him, and now that you finally had him in your clutches, you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

You're sitting at a table in the back of the library as you flip through the pages of your textbook. You burst into a fit of giggles at something Mark says. He was seated next to you, his own reading material disgarded as he leaned over your shoulder trying to help you study. The way he leans in, his warm breath grazing your ear as he explains the lesson, sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Meanwhile, Haechan, sitting with Renjun at a nearby table, narrows his eyes as he spots you and Mark at the back of the library. “She can’t be serious,” Haechan mutters, incredulous.

Mark is unnecessarily close, his finger tracing a line in your textbook. You catch his eye and share a playful glance, and it makes your heart race. Haechan groans in annoyance at your obvious flirting. The way you're biting your lip and laughing at everything Mark says was aggravating. There's no way Mark was that funny!

“Shhh! Ms. Song already said if she has to kick us out again, we’re banned from the library,” Renjun interjects quietly, shooting Haechan a sharp look.

“Is she seriously ditching us for him? What’s so special about him, anyway?” Haechan grumbles, crossing his arms. Here he was, supposed to be studying, having begged Renjun to tutor him, only to be distracted by you.

“After what we saw last night, he’s probably some kind of sex god. I mean, did you see the look on her face when they got out of the car?!” Renjun says sarcastically. A smirk creeped onto his face, knowing the image he just painted is pushing all of Haechan’s buttons.

“I could do that! That should have been me!” Haechan waves his hands in mock frustration, his voice rising a little too high.

“Shhh!” Renjun hisses again, glancing around nervously to see if anyone is listening.

“Do you even care?” Haechan whispers furiously, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Renjun lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I care, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to let it go! Now please,” he says, placing a finger over his lips in a quieting gesture.

Haechan grumbles under his breath but sinks back into his chair, arms crossed stubbornly. However, his eyes remain glued to you and Mark. He’s acutely aware that the lines etched across his forehead are deepening, and he’s sure he’ll regret it later when wrinkles form, but right now, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of Mark’s hand dipping below the table slyly.

—

You stood on the porch, knocking on the door a little louder than necessary. The cold weather seeped into your bones, and you hoped someone would be home to let you in. You had called earlier, but no one had answered. Mark was sick, and your other friends were all busy with work or studies. Bored out of your mind, you were looking for some fun.

You knew they were likely angry with you, after all, you'd been ignoring them for most of the week. Despite that, you felt confident they'd relent and let you in once they got a look at what you had on. Under your coat you made sure to dress in the shortest silk shorts and a top that was all cleavage and no coverage. Although you were practically freezing outside, you figured it was worth it for the extra brownie points it might earn you.

As you knocked again, a messy-haired Jeno opened the door. His headphones hung from his neck, and a gaming controller was in his hand. He looked surprised to see you, and for a moment, he simply stared. You smiled sweetly and ushered yourself inside as he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your outfit.

Once you were warm and out of the cold, you looked around the quiet house for everyone else. "Where is everyone?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jeno shrugged, putting his controller down on the counter. "I don't know, they've been gone for a while." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to your cleavage again. "Who were you coming to see?"

You laughed and tilted your head, moving closer to him. "No one in particular. I was just bored and missed you guys."

"Missed us, but can't pick up the phone?" he joked, moving to sit on the couch.

You smiled and got comfortable on his lap,your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist. "Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes meeting his.

Jeno shook his head softly, his gaze locked on your lips. "Could never be mad at you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly, you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.

Jeno leaned in, his voice teasing. "Why are you acting all shy, little bird?"

You bury your face in his neck. "You're making me nervous."

Jeno's hands moved to rest on the tops of your thighs, and he massaged the skin there. "Now you see how I feel. Come on, look at me."

You finally brought your gaze back to his, and Jeno's eyes locked onto yours. His expression was soft and adoring, and you felt a flutter in your chest. "We have some time before they get back," he said. "Let me have you to myself, hmm?"

You nod and his lips cover yours in a needy kiss, your tongues and teeth in a passionate battle. You hold on to his face, returning the kiss with just as much fever. You can feel his sharp jaw flex under your fingertips as his mouth opens wider and a low moan escapes him. His hands slide lower, resting on your ass before he sits up and effortlessly lifts you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

He drops you gently on the mattress, and you look up at him as he pulls his shirt off his body. The way he gazes down at you reveals the quiet longing in his eyes. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile that makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

“Are you gonna be a big girl and take your clothes off, or do you need my help?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel playful as you brush your lips against his teasingly. “I think I can manage, but then again…” You give him a smirk. “If you’re offering your help, who am I to refuse?”

He closes the distance once more, smiling into the kiss as his hands deftly strip you of your clothes. Once he's got you naked he kicks off his jeans, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the quiet room. You reach for the waistband of his briefs, eager to take the next step, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them against the pillow.

“Let me take my time,” he warns.

He gropes your breasts, his hands warm as he teases your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body. With a swift motion, he kicks your legs open, sliding a knee between them, and your hips automatically grind down against it, seeking the friction you desperately crave. Your body is restless and all you want is to put your hands on him, to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

In your fight to keep your hands still, they slip under the pillow, where your fingers graze something cool and leather. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

“A leash?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise.

Jeno’s head pops up, his face turning beet red as he processes the leather leash and collar in your hands. He glances between the items and your face, his mouth open, fumbling with whatever sentence he's trying to form.

“Uh…I—” He stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Didn’t know you were this freaky,” you tease, arching an eyebrow as you lean in closer. “You like to leash your partners? Kinky.”

He looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “No, that’s not it…”

An inquisitive “Hmm,” escapes your lips before the realization dawns on you. “No way! Our puppy likes to be leashed?” you say excitedly. “That’s so hot!”

In an instant, he snatches the items out of your hands, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re just teasing, it’s not funny,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” you insist, grabbing his face to force him to meet your gaze. “I want to try.”

The look he gives you is one of pure puppy-dog innocence, those large, expressive eyes reflecting the desire that's swirling in his stomach. You can’t contain your excitement at the thought of slipping the collar around his neck. With careful hands, you tighten the collar and attach the leash, you smile at the dominance you now wield.

Giving an experimental tug, you pull him closer until he’s a breath away, his warm breath fanning across your skin. It’s like a light switch flips, suddenly he's looking down at you, gaze dark like a predator despite being the one leashed.

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you urge his body closer. Jeno buries his face back into your chest, grinding against you, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies. You desperately cling to each other, hips moving with need, and you realize just how wet you are when the front of his briefs quickly become soaked by your arousal. Heaving breaths fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans that you can no longer hide. Each drag of his hips sends red hot pleasure through you, but you’re growing tired of his teasing. He knows what you want, all you can think about is feeling him inside you, but he seems determined to rile you up. You might be the one holding the leash, but somehow it feels like he’s still the one in control.

Frustrated, you tighten your grip, tugging him away from your chest. His forehead rests against yours giving you his full attention. Your hand trails down his body, skimming over his toned abs until you reach the waistband of his briefs. This time, he allows you to pull them down, and his eyes widen, round and innocent, as you grip him in your hand.

A low moan escapes him, reverberating through his body as he instinctively thrusts into your grasp. His eyes screw shut, and his head falls against your shoulder in sheer ecstasy. “That’s my good boy,” you whisper, a wicked smile curling your lips as pleasure overtakes him. His soft whimper in response makes you feel powerful.

But it's fleeting. He sits back, his leash glides between your fingertips as he pulls himself away from your grasp. He was still teasing and you were growing sick of it.

“Come on puppy, be good,” you coax. “I need you.”

A playful smile creeps across his lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures, finally relenting to the irresistible pull of your legs urging him inside of you.

In the next moment, he slips between your legs and slides into you. You’re so ready for him, slick and inviting, and you moan his name like a prayer. He has missed you—every delicious inch of you. He’s right where he needs to be.

Your grip on the leash tightens as he begins to fuck you with a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you against him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. When you slide up the bed, he yanks you back down and pins you in place to make you take it.

Suddenly, he manhandles you onto your side with ease, throwing one of your legs over his hip. His strokes turn deep and slow, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You can’t help but squeeze him just right in this position, and he revels in it, those dark eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

His hands roam freely, groping and kneading your ass until he lands a harsh slap against the skin there, causing you to jolt in surprise. You glare at him playfully and in retaliation, you yank the leash roughly, asserting control. When his gaze meets yours, fire ignites behind those enticing eyes, and a wicked smirk dances across his lips.

He flips you over, twisting your body until you are on your hands and knees. He's on one knee behind you and the other is bent to keep your leg propped open. He drags his heavy cock through your wet folds, ready to take what’s his. He’s deep, you can barely catch your breath, each strong thrust knocking the air from your lungs. One of your legs is suspended over his and you're unable to do much but submit to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel your arms growing weak from holding yourself up, threatening to cave under the bliss. When Jeno notices, he deliberately drops his leg, and you collapse into a classic doggy style. Instantly, he pushes your head into the sheets, grinding into you before his hips pick up their relentless pace.

You moan loud and unashamed, surrendering completely to him as he continues to wreck you, his every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. When you look back over your shoulder, your breath hitches at the sight.

Jeno's chest heaves up and down, sweat glistening and trickling down to his happy trail. His hair, once lightly tousled, now spikes up in every direction, a testament to the way you'd run your fingers through it. The collar sits snug around his neck—a beautiful accessory that seems to belong there. The chain of the leash thrashes wildly against his chest with each powerful thrust, creating a rhythm that echoes through the room. His eyes are blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kisses shared, and he looks utterly delectable. In that moment, you can’t believe how you ever forgot just how much fun you had with him, or how stunning he was, and how he made you feel like the center of his universe.

What was a mark, anyway?

All you can think of is Jeno—crave him, worship him—as he fucks you into the sheets, your body begging for more. Each roll of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and you moan his name over and over in a chant of pure ecstasy.

You wrap your fist around his chain, tugging him down over your shoulder until your lips are just inches apart, and you kiss him as you cum. You don’t loosen your grip—you need him to look you in the eyes. You want to see every ounce of him when he fills you with his cum.

His brows furrow, and his mouth hangs open, breath coming in heavy gasps as he continues to pound into you. His eyelids flutter and he moans. “Harder,” he gasps out and you can’t help but clench around him. You tighten your hold on the leash, effectively choking him just as he reaches his peak.

He grunts loudly, head dropping between your shoulder blades as he spills into you. The sensation pushes you over the edge once more, and the two of you ride out your high together, clinging to each other as you breathe heavily. When he finally catches his breath, he spreads your ass cheeks, pulling out slowly, watching as he drips from your messy cunt.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs to himself.

As he rolls off you, he takes a moment to regain his composure, and when he does, he goes to grab a towel, gently wiping you down. The soft cloth feels soothing against your skin, and then he dresses you in one of his shirts—a perfect fit, soft, and smelling of him. You help him take off his collar, kissing and massaging the skin of his neck.

Once you’re both settled, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in warmth. It was cold outside and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

You don’t remember dozing off, but the soft sounds of movement in the house awaken you later. the guys must have finally returned. You shake Jeno awake, and he stirs, blinking sleepily as he looks up at you.

“I'm leaving, babe. I had fun,” you say softly, laying a gentle kiss on Jeno's cheek. His eyes are still barely open, and he groans something incoherent that makes you giggle before you slip on your shorts and head out of his room still wearing one of his shirts that hangs loosely around you.

As you step into the living room, you catch sight of Renjun sprawled on the couch, intently watching a show he had been raving about. Jaemin is in the kitchen, visibly busy with something that smells heavenly. You stretch and yawn, drawing their attention.

Renjun glances at you with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, look who came crawling back,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh hush,” you laugh, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him as you pass.

You walk into the kitchen and greet Jaemin, who glances over his shoulder as you approach. “Hi, baby,” he says sweetly, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

You eyed him suspiciously. Of all the guys, Jaemin is the one you were still learning to read but you knew there was something sinister behind that sweet smile. You knew better than to let your guard down. Beneath his seemingly sweet demeanor, he was likely still mad at you for ignoring him. He was the type to smile and say everything was fine while he was plotting his revenge.

“I didn’t poison it, dummy. Try it,” he insists, smiling as he lets you sample the dish. You hum appreciatively at the taste. “This is so good,” you moan, letting the flavors dance on your palate. Then you shoot him with your best pleading eyes. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

His smirk widens, and for just a moment, his mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the mischief underneath. “Not by a long shot. You've gotta get yours,” he threatens, playfully slapping your ass.

You shiver at the promise in his words but can’t help but smile at the teasing. Making your way back to Renjun, you wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

“I missed you too, Junnie,” you coo, peppering his cheeks with kisses. He chuckles, enjoying the affectionate attention.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asks.

You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin dramatically, before giving in. “Sure, I’ve been dying to see this show you keep telling me about anyway.” Truthfully, you missed spending time with them, and without an early class the next day, there was no reason not to.

Settling comfortably on the couch, you watch as Jaemin plates your food and Renjun glares when Jaemin casually tells him to fix his own plate. A few moments later, Jeno shuffles out of his room, clearly drawn by the scent of food. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen to fix a plate. You immerse yourself in Renjun’s show and it isn't until you've finished an entire episode that it hits you suddenly.

“Where’s Haechan?” you ask curiously.

“Probably working late on his project again,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “His partner got sick last minute.”

“That sucks. I really wanted to see him,” you pout, disappointment washing over you.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out he missed you,” Renjun laughs.

After watching another episode and enduring about thirty minutes of Jeno and Renjun arguing over the show's plot twist, you finally decide to call it a night. You had contemplated waiting up for Haechan, but it was getting late and you were growing sleepy.

“Alright, guys, I’m heading out,” you say, waving goodbye. They were in the middle of cleaning up from dinner, chatting amiably amongst themselves before looking up at you.

“Drive safe, and get some sleep,” Jaemin calls out while the others wave goodbye.

As you get into your car and pull out of the parking lot, a familiar car rolls in just as you’re about to drive away. Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with Haechan in the driver seat. He’s looking at you in shock, not expecting to see you at the apartment. You looked just as shocked until you burst into laughter at the coincidence.

On the drive home all you can think about is how he is so going to kill you for leaving without saying goodbye. You can already envision the annoyance etched across his features when the others tell him about impromptu the hangout you had without him.

—

Mark was over at your apartment, his smile brighter than ever now that he had finally gotten better. You were glued to his side, huddled under a blanket against the winter night's chill. After making hot cocoa topped with marshmallows, you had settled in for a movie, completely engrossed in the plot.

Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump slightly. Mark chuckled at your startled reaction before turning back to the screen, clearly unfazed. You glanced at the caller ID and noticed Jaemin's name flashing. Hesitating for just a moment, you hit the decline button and set the phone face down on the coffee table. A small pang of guilt washed over you, but you quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from Mark beside you.

You turned back to the movie, snuggling deeper into Mark’s embrace. His warm hand rested high on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shorts. A smile spread across your face, and you felt your heart warm at his touch. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to pull away slightly and meet your gaze with a smile. He then laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, trailing soft kisses down to your cheeks before finally capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, voice teasing.

“Of course! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Mark chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t live without me.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. I was really just trying to keep myself entertained while you were out of commission.”

“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, that teasing tone making your stomach do flips. “So, I’m just your favorite distraction?”

You laughed, leaning back a little. “I don’t know… this movie is pretty good. You’re not exactly doing a great job of distracting me.”

His laughter filled the room as he pulled you in for another kiss, making you forget all about the movie.

Suddenly, there was a rattling noise as your phone vibrated again on the table.

You ignored it as Mark pulled you into his lap, and the kiss began slowly — soft, and sweet. But as hands began to wander and your chests heaved, the kiss grew needier, more desperate. Finally, your phone stopped ringing, and you sighed in relief into his mouth.

The moment of joy was short-lived when your phone vibrated again. You groaned in frustration, and Mark pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Don’t you want to answer that?”

You already knew who was blowing you up, and the last thing you wanted was to break the moment with a call from Jaemin. You had finally gotten to see Mark after weeks apart, and you would not let anyone come between you.

“I’m good,” you said absentmindedly, leaning in to steal his lips in another kiss.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his words muffled against your mouth as you pressed more kisses to his lips.

You huffed in frustration. He clearly wasn't going to drop it until you answered. “Fine.”

You swiped your phone from where it lay on the coffee table and headed into your room, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“What!” you whispered-yelled in irritation when you answered.

“Renjun wanted me to ask when you were coming over for game night.” Haechan’s voice came through in amusement.

“Renjun told you to ask when I was coming over for game night? at 11:30 pm?”

"Yes"

“We haven't had game night in 2 months…” “Which is why I was trying to get that ball rolling again.”

You sign in frustration. “Did Renjun also tell Jaemin to call me or was that you?”

“You probably should have answered that. You know how he gets when you ignore his calls,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “He hates that.”

You sighed. “Haechan, what do you want?”

“I miss you. I want to know why you’re ignoring me. You stopped by the other day and didn’t even say hello.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I promise. I was waiting up, but I didn’t know how long you would be,” you replied, your voice softening as you tried to explain. “I have to go though, I’m doing something.”

“Something named Mark? We all saw you with him. You know, that night at the party when you thought no one was looking,” he laughed darkly. “I already don’t like sharing you. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”

The realization hit you hard. Jaemin had seemed off, and now you understood you might be in deeper trouble than you thought.

“Right now, I’m about to be your worst nightmare if you don’t stop blowing me up, and what I did that night is none of your business.”

“You don’t have time for me because you’re with him. I think that is my business,” Haechan pressed.

“I— I don’t have time for this, Haechan! I have to go!” Without waiting for a reply, you hung up, your mind racing. You rubbed a hand down your face, feeling the anxiety clawing at your insides. You were so screwed.

Taking a deep breath, you headed back out to the living room where Mark was waiting.

“Everything good?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

"Everything is perfect," you insisted, forcing a smile to mask your irritation. You couldn’t let the situation with Haechan ruin this moment. Not now.

Mark studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he picked up on the tension in your voice. You could see him searching your face, wanting to know what had just happened during your phone call.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently.

“Let’s just start another movie,” you suggested, getting up to grab the remote.

Mark’s hand found yours when you sat back down, squeezing gently. “Whatever you want, as long as I can hold you.”

—

Ever since that night, you and Haechan had been at odds with each other. If he hadn’t already hated Mark for leaving him with a project to complete alone, he definitely loathed him now for stealing you away.

“Don't let him get to you,” Yuna said, gliding gracefully in circles around you. She had practically dragged you out from under your blankets, ripping you away from the warmth of your heater to join her for some ice skating. Winter was her favorite time of year, but for you? The cold, the snow, and those bleak, gloomy skies felt more like a punishment than the jolliest season of the year.

You struggled to keep your balance on the ice, frowning at her as she effortlessly skated. “He’s being such an asshole right now. Acting like I’m going to just get rid of him or something!”

“Well, are you?” she teased, gliding up to you and grabbing your hands just in time to stop you from completely losing your balance.

There weren't many people at the rink tonight; the already chilly air grew frigid as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

“Of course not! I’m not getting rid of anyone. I just want to spend more time with Mark, that’s all. They’ve had their fun with me, it’s Mark’s turn,” you insisted, your voice wavering slightly as you shifted your weight.

“Our favorite little plaything,” she cooed, scratching under your chin like you were a cat.

“Stop, you’re so annoying!” you laughed, playfully shoving her away. You instantly regretted it as you lost your balance and fell.

Yuna burst into laughter, causing you to glare up at her. “I’m taking a break,” you pouted, waddling off the ice.

“Aw, come on! That was hilarious!” she called out, her voice trailing off in the distance as you moved to the safety of the bench just outside the rink.

You plopped down on the bench and let out a dramatic huff. Lifting your bag onto your lap, you dug through it in search of your phone, hoping that scrolling through some funny videos would lift your spirits. Instead, you found a text message from Haechan waiting for you.

Sunnyboy [8:00pm] miss how you feel pretty girl :(

Haechan had been torturing you for the past week in retaliation for you not making time for him. He had been bombarding you with pictures, showing himself gripping what was hidden beneath his grey sweats, videos of him stroking himself, his tip red and glistening with precum, and the worst of all—voice memos. If there was one thing you adored about Haechan other than what he could do with his mouth, it was his voice. The way he moaned drove you wild, he had a talent for begging so sweetly it made you weak and he knew it. In every voice memo he sounded like a slut and it was pushing all the right buttons. You needed him badly but he had to give you a taste of your own medicine first.

Whenever you tried to confront him, he feigned ignorance, playing coy like he had no idea what you were talking about. Over the phone, he would call just to tempt you, making you listen to him jerk off. His mic would pick up everything, the slick sounds his fingers made as he pumped himself to the sinful moans that he doesn't bother to hold back all before hanging up, leaving you wanting more. But when he was face-to-face with you, he acted like a saint, full of restraint. You had forgotten that while horny Haechan was a menace, brat Haechan was even worse.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until you came crawling to him on your knees, begging for forgiveness, and that was

Never.

Going.

To.

Happen.

You left him on read, knowing he would ignore your reply anyway, and made your way back onto the ice, hoping to escape the thoughts of him.

Later, you walked around town with Yuna, enjoying your little girls' outing. You loved hanging out with your friends, but one-on-one time felt more intimate in a way you cherished. You listened as Yuna shared stories about her winter break and showed you pictures of her dogs back home. She was eager for you to meet Menchi, the dog she had rescued from behind a froyo shop.

“You should have told me you weren’t going home for the holidays. I would have taken you with me!” she pouted. “You know my mom loves you.”

“As do they all,” you shrugged confidently. “Watch out—I might just become your stepmom.”

“Gay,” Yuna shot back, tossing a marshmallow from her cup at you. You had found a cozy late-night café to warm up before heading home.

“I’m an opportunist,” you replied, mixing your drink before taking a sip. You had gotten some wine, and the longer you stayed there, the more you loved the atmosphere. At night, the café transformed into a social club, serving up alcoholic beverages. You needed something to get your blood pumping and you were tired of hot cocoa.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sigh as you see Haechan’s name on the screen again. Sunnyboy [10:23] Video attachment

"Who is it?" Yuna asked, sipping her coffee while trying to look at your screen. You quickly locked your phone before she could catch a glimpse. You didn’t need her seeing the outrageous things Haechan sends you.

"It's Haechan; I'm sorry. Give me a moment," you replied, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Once you were safe behind a stall, you unlocked your phone and navigated back to his messages. The bathroom was empty, but you still turned the volume down, cautious as you played the video. At first, you weren't sure what you were seeing until the camera angle shifted, and you gasped.

You couldn't see much, just a girl with her head in Haechan's lap, her hair obscuring her face and most of her actions. You turn the volume up a little and from the sounds of the video, it became clear what was happening. Haechan's hand rested on the back of her head, pushing it down until she was gagging. He moaned, holding her there until he finally let her come up for air. The video is short and sweet but you're still annoyed by the end of it. You noticed a message you had missed earlier beneath it. Sunnyboy [10:24] I can have fun without you too dont worry ur still my pretty grl

You shouldn’t be upset; you knew he wanted that reaction from you. If you showed your anger, it meant he had won, but damn, were you furious. You locked your phone and stormed out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asked, concern etched on her face.

"Nothing. What were we talking about again?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. Yuna wanted to pry but saw the look in your eyes and knew now was not the time.

—

One way or another, you were going to show Haechan that you weren't the one to play with. You wouldn't fault him for going around and sleeping with other girls, you couldn’t, considering you were intimate with almost his entire friend group. However, you knew he was doing it to get under your skin, to provoke a reaction from you. And that's what infuriated you the most.

You had reached out to Renjun to see who was home, and he sent a text back letting you know it was just Jaemin and Haechan. You cursed under your breath, disappointed that Renjun wasn't home. He was the most suitable person to help you get under Haechans skin. If not him, then even Jeno would do, but you really wanted to avoid Jaemin. His punishment was not something you were looking forward to, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was a necessary evil in your quest for revenge against Haechan.

You were determined to get revenge, no matter the cost. You would walk through fire to make Haechan pay, and that included facing the punishment Jaemin was going to give you. You could only avoid it for so long. It was time to rip the band-aid off and if you could inflict some well-deserved payback on Haechan in the process, all the better. You [8:57] my prince wru doing today? Nana [9:00] well arent u sweet Im at home why? You [9:01] can i come thru? I miss you Nana [9:15] Oh now you miss me You [9:16] Please jaem im sorry Nana [9:45] You know your in trouble when you get here right?

When you knock on the door, it swings open to reveal Haechan, casually dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and shorts, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. His eyes take in your figure, and it’s clear he thinks he’s already won this round. The cute pink set you wore just for Jaemin catches his attention, and a flicker of desire ignites behind his gaze. You can tell you’ve got him hooked, but you have other plans.

With a determined stride, you walk past Haechan, refusing to give him a glance, fully aware of the heat of his gaze boring into your back. You get a rush of satisfaction the moment you catch a glimpse of his expression shifting from smug confidence to disappointment when he realizes you aren’t there for him. You can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that Jaemin's punishment is about to be so worth it. Before Haechan can react or try to get his hands on you, you slip into Jaemin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind you before locking it.

Jaemin is already perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. His relaxed posture exudes an air of dominance that sends a thrill down your spine. He's got an easy smile on his face that you know not to trust. He sports a fitted black tank top, clinging just right, and loose grey sweats that hang low on his hips as his legs spread wide. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a bedside lamp creating an intimate atmosphere.

You give him your sweetest smile, making sure to sway your hips as you close the distance. Standing between his legs, you let your hand come to rest on his jawline, your thumb grazing his cheek as he looks up at you. He’s so pretty—pretty eyes, pretty lips, and pretty lashes that frame his gaze perfectly. Behind that pretty exterior lies something dangerous but alluring.

“I love that color on you, princess. It’s my favorite,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over your figure.

You lean down, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you, Jaem. I know” you reply.

Maybe he wasn’t as mad as you thought.

“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice drips sweetly, yet the underlying bite sends a shiver through you.

Or maybe he was

You can feel the weight of your impending punishment closing in on you. Instantly, you pout and drop to your knees, resting your head against one of his thighs as you look up at him, your hand soothing the other.

“Don’t be like that, Jaem. I said I was sorry,” you plead, giving him your most pitiful puppy dog eyes.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, and you close your eyes, relishing the sweet caress. But suddenly, his grip shifts to the back of your head, yanking your hair until you’re forced to meet his glare.

“I thought I asked you a question,” he states, eyes darkening. “I know you heard me, baby. Did I say you could touch me?”

“No, sir,” you whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

“Hands behind your back,” he commands, releasing your hair.

You comply, settling back on your knees, heart racing as you await his next command.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. You know I hate being mean,” he says, standing up from the bed and moving to his closet. When he returns, it’s with a box of toys—the sight makes you clench your thighs involuntarily. “You know I treat you like a princess when you deserve it.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just—”

“Busy with Mark?” He tilts his head in question as he rummages through the box, pulling out a few toys. “I’m not mad. Just tell me one thing, does he fuck you better than I can?”

You swallow hard, biting back a whine. “No, sir,” you finally manage, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Then why does he get your attention while I get ignored?” The question hangs heavy in the air, and you know you have no answer.

“Looks like I just need to remind you who you belong to. Get undressed.”

Once you’re completely bare before him, he nods to the bed, and you get on the mattress, kneeling near the edge, obediently waiting for his instructions.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe.

“I’ve got a new toy. Can I try it with you?” He pulls out a bar with cuffs on either side and cuffs in the middle, designed to keep your legs open and your hands bound.

“What is that?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s to keep you open for me,” he explains, voice smooth as silk. “Do you want to try?

Mind racing, you nod eagerly before catching yourself. “Yes, sir,” you correct, using your words. It had been awhile since you had been with Jaemin so you had to remember his rules

“Hands and knees then precious,” he commands.

As you position yourself, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbles inside you. You had never been bound like this before. You could feel yourself dripping and you had almost forgotten this was all for your punishment. He secures the velcro cuffs around your ankles, and makes you thread your arms underneath your body, binding your wrists to the bar in the center. Face down, ass up, spread wide—completely at his mercy. A breathless gasp escapes you as you realize just how vulnerable you’ve become, the anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. You can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Jaemin,” you whine.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked. His brow furrowed, studying your reaction, waiting for any sign of discomfort.

You whined again, feeling like you were about to implode. "Do something," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he playfully slapped your ass before leaving a gentle kiss that made your breath hitch. The spreader bar dug into your skin, forcing your body to arch in a way that’s almost painfully perfect. There was something about the compromising position that left you feeling extra sensitive. You’ve never felt so open, so on display, and it’s making you melt.

He walks over to reach back into his box of toys and pulls out a blindfold. You look up at him, eyes shining in a silent beg that you hope makes him go easier on you but he just kisses your cheek and ties the blind fold, stealing your vision. The darkness is immediate, suffocating, and it only heightens every other sensation.

You let out a soft sigh as his warm hands glided down your back, kneading your ass. You tense up a little, bracing yourself for the sharp sting of a slap that never comes. Instead his hands leave your body completely, leaving you to wonder what he would do next. You were dripping and you wanted to rub your legs together. You needed to find some kind of friction to ease the ache that was building inside you but the spreader bar held you firm and it was killing you.

You heard the door open and close and you groaned in frustration. He was gone for a few moments and you're glad he came back when he did because you were about to start crying and maybe scream for Haechan to come finish you off.

You hear the faint clink of glass against wood, and then his hands are on you again, cold and wet. Ice. He must have taken a sip of water, letting it chill his lips before he pressed them to your skin.

You gasp as his cold kisses trail down your back. His lips are teasing, brushing over every inch of your skin except where you need him most. When his mouth reaches the back of your thighs, you whine, desperate and broken. He’s avoiding you, toying with you, and it’s driving you insane. You hated this, you would rather him spank you until your ass was raw and get it over with but Jaemin was hellbent on making you suffer, making you feel the longing he had to endure.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at that.” His thumb finds your clit, circling it lightly, and you moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Anything. But he just chuckles, his hand leaving you again, and you feel the sharp sting of his palm against your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and a silent “fuck” slips out as he observes you. “I always have so much fun with you, precious,” he says, leaning over you. His body is warm against your back, his hardened length pressing into you as he whispers in your ear. “I want you to myself so bad. I really hate sharing you.” Your breath hitches, and you push back against him, grinding your hips into his. “I’m yours, Nana,” you promise, your voice trembling. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rock against him, begging for relief. But just as you’re about to lose yourself in the friction, he pulls away, leaving you aching and empty. You hear the clink of the glass again, and shiver as you feel him press a cold ice cube against your pussy lips. He holds it in between his lips as it melts and drips down your cunt making you yelp. “Nana, it's cold.”

He slaps the back of your thigh, his mouth too full to speak. The ice eventually melts and you feel his tongue, cold and wet, tracing through your folds, and you whimper. It’s maddening. He’s relentless, licking and teasing, never giving you the pressure you need. You’re drenched, your thighs shaking, and all you can do is take it. You’re his to play with.

You know this isn't even the beginning of what he had in store for you.

“So fucking greedy,” he says, pulling away for just a moment. “That’s why you needed Mark, huh? We weren’t enough for you?”

“It’s not like that,” you choke out, your voice cracking with the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, baby. I like sluts. They always make the prettiest noises when I break them.”

His tongue pushes into you, deep and searching, and you scream, your face buried in the sheets. His hands grip your thighs, holding you against his face, his tongue curling and flicking until you’re seeing stars. He moves to your clit, sucking and teasing, and you’re so close. His fingers dip inside of you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure. His fingers thrust and curl up inside of you until your body is tensing up. You’re about to cum but then he pulls away and you sob.

“No! Don’t stop, please!” You hated orgasm denial and of course Jaemin found out about this little weakness of yours somehow.

“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been spoiling this pussy too much, now it's become greedy.”

He watches as silent cries and hiccups make your body shake. His hands move gently, rubbing soothing circles against your lower back until your breathing begins to steady, letting you throw your tantrum. You feel him loosen the blindfold, and you blink to bring your vision into focus. Tear-filled eyes meet his gaze, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "How’s my princess doing?" he asks, checking in on you again.

"I'm fine," you sniffle, but your voice falters as you add, "Please make me cum."

He chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not yet, love," he replies.

You hear the sound of something being pulled from his box, and then you feel it—a vibration against your clit. It’s the rose toy, and the moment he turns it on, you lose all coherence. “F—oh my god!”

He holds it against you, the low setting sending a heady rush of pleasure through your body. You’re close again, your muscles tightening, but he pulls away just as you’re about to tip over the edge. “Be a good girl just a little longer, and you can have me,” he reminds you.

Your mind is swirling, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Your brain was practically mush in your head and when he leans back down to lick up your slickness, you completely lose it. Instantly, your legs quake, heat pooling in your lower belly, and you cry out, hips pushing back against his face for more. You were close again but it’s as if Jaemin has a sixth sense and he pulls away again.

"No, no, no, no, no!" you repeat urgently, your voice rising in frustration, but also laced with desperation

"It's ok, we're almost done," Jaemin's soothing voice tries to calm you down. “Take it one more time for me," he coaxes, "and I'll let you cum."

You’re a mess, tears streaking your face, your body trembling with need. He pulls off his shirt, then his sweats and briefs, and you hear the soft sound of him stroking himself. He groans as he watches you drip onto his sheets. The tip of his cock is angry red, and the way he grips himself tells you he’s close to breaking too.

He presses the tip of his cock against you, letting it slip through your folds before he’s pushing the tip in. Your throat had grown horse from how loud you had been moaning and screaming. Your back arches deeper as he fucks you with just the tip. He picks up the vibrator again, pressing it against your clit, and you’re so close. He bites his bottom lip as he watches the way you squirm. He was driving you insane. His free hand held firm on your hip to keep you still when you tried to press back into him. You were about to cum but he pulls out, switching the vibrator off, and you sob, your legs shaking as another orgasm is ripped away from you.

Jaemin’s hands move swiftly, the velcro cuffs releasing with a soft rip as he unbinds your ankles and wrists. The spreader bar is tossed carelessly to the side, landing somewhere on the bed with a muffled thud. Before you can even process the relief of being freed, his strong hands are flipping you onto your back, and there’s no time to catch your breath before he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Jaem, wait—it’s too much,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he pushes into you, the stretch almost overwhelming after so much teasing. Your body jolts, every nerve alight with sensitivity, and your nails instinctively rake down his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He hisses, but his pace doesn’t falter, his thrusts deep and relentless.

He doesn’t hear you, only responding with a growl as his hands grip your thighs and shove them up against your chest as he continues to fuck you.

The angle is punishing. Your body arches, every muscle tensing as pleasure builds to a breaking point. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and then—you’re there. Your body convulses as you cry out, your release soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. You’re squirting, the sensation utterly overwhelming, and you hear Jaemin’s voice, rough and guttural, as he watches the mess you’ve made.

“Fuckkk,” he moans, as he gazes down at you. “So fucking good. This pussy is so fucking good.” His words are a low growl, and you can see the way his eyes flutter, his own control slipping as he gets lost in the sight of you.

But he doesn’t stop. His hips snap forward again, driving into you intensely. His hands move to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but not crushing grip. You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, and he leans down, his breath against your ear.

“You gonna answer me when I call you? Gonna text me back?” he demands, his voice low and commanding, his gaze intense as he searches your face for an answer.

“Yes, Nana!” you scream, your voice raw and ragged, your body thrumming with overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again.

“Are you going to make me punish you again?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it’s no less threatening. His hand tightens slightly around your throat, and you whimper, shaking your head frantically.

“No, Nana.”

“That’s my fucking princess, atta girl.” He says, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with pride. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and you’re mesmerized by the way he looks in this moment—utterly wild. Your juices drip down his thighs, and your eyes flicker to the claw marks decorating his biceps, a testament to how badly you’ve wanted him, how much you’ve needed him.

He’s insane, and you love it.

His thrusts grow harder, more erratic, and you can feel him teetering on the edge. His hand leaves your throat, moving to grip your hip as he drives into you one last time. He groans, his body tensing as he spills into you, his release hot and filling. You can feel him pulsing inside you, and it’s enough to send a final, weak shiver of pleasure through your body.

When he pulls out, you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Your muscles ache, your throat is sore, and you’re completely wrecked. Jaemin catches his breath above you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you swear it’s like watching a switch flip. The demon that had possessed him—the one that had pushed you to the brink over and over—it’s gone, replaced by the Jaemin you know. His eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle now, almost tender.

“Was that too much?”

“Never.”

After cleaning you up, changing the sheets, and tending to your bruises you decide to spend the night. You had no energy to get up and go home, you weren't sure you could even walk to do so. That morning you wake up in Jaemin's arms, snuggled up to his chest with your legs intertwined. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face and can't help but smile.

You kiss his nose and untangle yourself from the sheets, careful not to disturb him. He's a deep sleeper, and all he does is roll over and go back to sleep. You quietly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen to get some water.

You pour yourself a cup of water, savoring the silence of the morning. The gentle chirping of birds fills the air as you lean against the counter, relaxing with a content sigh and letting your mind wander to thoughts of nothing.

Your peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by footsteps approaching. You assume it's Jaemin coming to join you, but you freeze when Haechan rounds the corner.

In that instant, you remember the original reason you had come over—to rile him up. And boy, does he look pissed. He watches you with a fierce glare as you gulp down your cup of water, standing in front of the fridge while he remains across the kitchen, separated from you by the island.

"When you're ready to come home, I'll be right here," Haechan says.

“You're talking about what?" You inquire annoyed.

How our little Princess runs to everyone but me when she's needy." He rebuttals.

"You brought this on yourself," you shoot back. "You decided to send those photos to get a rise out of me, so forgive me if I felt inspired to do the same."

“Jaemin did a number on you, didn't he?" he says, his eyes drifting to your skin, where the bruises from Jaemin are visible.

Your face flushes as you remember the bruises that litter your skin and how loud you were with Jaemin. “Maybe he did. But that’s none of your business, Haechan.”

“Except it is. it's a little hard to ignore when you're parading around with marks from someone else."

"Maybe they could have been from you if you weren't so insufferable," you snap.

"I've wanted it to be me, but you're too busy with your new plaything," Haechan says, his jaw set in irritation.

"I wish you would stop worrying about Mark." You whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down from waking the whole house. “What's your issue with him anyway?”

"Besides him fucking me over for my last project… let me think. Maybe it's the fact that you're throwing us to the side for him."

You feel a twinge of guilt at his words, but you try to deflect it. "You're ridiculous when you're jealous, you know that right?"

"Says the girl who just screwed my roommate to get back at me," Haechan says, his voice cold. He rounds the corner of the island and closes in on you.

"Only because you never learned how to wait your turn."

"Don't like sharing," Haechan says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Not my problem, maybe one of those girls can keep you company."

He pins you against the counter, his eyes boring down on you. "Stop acting like you don't want me, if you didn't want me, you wouldn't be here right now."

You glare back at him, trying to maintain your cool. "Well, you're in my way," you say, gesturing to your current position pinned against the counter.

"Admit you want me," Haechan challenges. "Then you can go."

You refuse to answer, keeping your mouth shut as he looms over you. You can practically feel his pent-up desire and frustration as he eye-fucks you a breath away.

His hands find their way to your waist, and with a subtle firmness, he pulls you away from the counter, pinning you to the cool surface of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You find yourself face down on the marble as Haechan stands behind you. His hips pressed into your ass as he reached around to the front of your panties. The soft pads of his fingers stroke you through your panties, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Soaked just like I thought,” he murmured, his voice teasing. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Fuck you, Donghyuck,” you spit.

He chuckled, his breath huffing against your neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you clenched your jaw, determined to stay quiet. But your body betrayed you, your legs parting almost instinctively.

“That’s right, princess. Keep that damn mouth closed and let your body talk,” he said. His fingers teased your clit, and you jolted when he pinched it sharply.

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed, glaring at him over your shoulder.

His innocent expression didn’t fool you for a second. “Me? Never.” His fingers dipped deeper, stretching you open, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. His other hand slid up your shirt, his rough palm massaging your breast. You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and he rocked his hips forward, the friction maddening.

The sound of a door creaking open down the hall made you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, your body heating up with embarrassment. It wasn’t like the guys hadn’t seen you in compromising positions before, but this—bent over the kitchen island at nine in the morning, legs spread open—felt different.

Jaemin emerged from the hall and paused in the doorway, his sleepy eyes taking in the scene for a moment before he shrugged. He yawned, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl, completely unfazed. He leaned against the counter opposite you, crunching on his cereal as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Haechan didn’t stop, and didn't even acknowledge Jaemin’s presence. His fingers continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. He didn’t care about anything other than the way you were clenching down around his fingers as he scissored you open.

Haechan slipped a third finger into you, and your attention snapped back to him. “Focus on me, baby. Why can’t you ever focus on me?” he tutted, his fingers curling inside you. You whined, your body trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

Jaemin’s eyes were on you, watching intently as Haechan worked you closer and closer to the edge. The combination of Haechan’s fingers, his palm teasing your breast, and Jaemin’s gaze was overwhelming.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice breathy and desperate.

Haechan smirked, his fingers slowing just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t deserve it.”

“Jaemin,” Maybe he’d take pity on you and finish you off if Haechan wouldn’t. You plead and turn your head to look at him.

“Calling for another man when I’m right here? You just don’t learn,” Haechan sneered, his hand leaving your breast to deliver a stinging slap to your thigh.

“Sorry, princess, I can’t save you,” Jaemin said with a teasing smile. He set his bowl in the sink, pausing to press a kiss to your temple before heading back to his room, leaving you at Haechan’s mercy.

Your thighs trembled, your body begging for release. “Please, Haechan. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

You turned your body enough to pull him into a desperate kiss. You missed his lips, the way they felt against yours. It was him—only him—you wanted. He faltered for a moment, his breath stuttering before he regained his composure and pulled away. He had to stand on business.

“Uh-uh, baby. You were bad,” he said, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace. You squirmed in his grasp, your orgasm slipping further away.

“No, no, please, no!” you begged, rocking against his hand pathetically. But he didn’t relent. His fingers stopped entirely, and he pulled away, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Better go find Mark to finish you off,” he said with a bite, his tone sharp and cutting. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving you alone and seething.

You slumped against the island, your body still throbbing with need. That bastard. You wanted to scream, to chase after him and demand he finish what he started. But instead, you stayed put, your mind racing as you tried to figure out your next move.

Now more than ever you wanted to rip his head off.

—

You had been grumpy all week, and your friends were starting to notice.

Sitting around the fire pit, the crackling flames burn hot against the chilly winter night. The air was biting cold, each breath forming a small cloud of mist that vanished into the darkness. Snowflakes continued to fall gently, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white, while your friends settled in around the fire. Absent-mindedly, you burned your marshmallow to a crisp, imagining it was Haechan melting over the flames.

“You guys see that evil look in her eyes?” Jisung asked the group, bundling himself tighter in his parka and scooting a little closer to Yuna for safety.

“And no one believes me when I tell you she’s been signing me up for spam emails!” Yangyang chimed in, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, shaking his head dramatically.

“Because why would she do that?” Yuna defended you, shooting both of them a disapproving look.

You smirked at her loyalty. To be honest, you had signed him up for all those spam emails, but only after he pushed you into a lake two summers ago, right after you’d spent hours on your hair. Your favorite form of revenge came in the shape of minor inconveniences.

“She’s got you all brainwashed. I’m going to expose her. Just you wait!” Yangyang declared under his breath, plotting your demise.

You roasted another marshmallow, this one perfectly toasted, and handed it to Yuna. She smiled and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss.

A few days had passed since Haechan left you hanging in the kitchen, and your frustration was starting to build up. Mark was suddenly too busy to reply, Renjun was buried under a mountain of books, Jaemin was working overtime, and Jeno… well, Jeno was back at the gym. He had invited you numerous times, but you had been hoping for a different kind of workout.

“There’s nothing wrong, guys. I’m just cold and picturing Chenle as a marshmallow for dragging us out here,” you lied smoothly.

Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s called bonding, you ungratefuls. We haven’t had a chance to hang out in forever!”

“Yeah, maybe because it’s been negative two degrees outside,” Mia chimed in.

“I’m having a great time, Lele.” Jisung declared, flashing a warm smile despite the chill.

“Stop flirting,” Yangyang teased as he scooped up a handful of snow and crafted a perfect snowball. He hurled it over the fire pit, and it landed squarely in Jisung’s chest.

Jisung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hey! I thought you were on my side!” he shot back, throwing his own snowball in retaliation.

Laughter filled the air as Jisung and Yangyang dashed through the snow-covered field in the woods behind the campus, their shouts echoing through the trees. A stray snowball from Yangyang hit you in the back of the head, and in an instant, you shot up, declaring war.

You charged at Yangyang, who was doubled over with laughter. The others joined in, hurling snowballs at each other, blissfully caught up in the chaos. You took the opportunity to sneak up on Yangyang, aiming to smother him in the snow when no one was looking.

“I told you she was crazy! Look!” he cried, but no one seemed to pay him any mind as they all ran, slipping and tumbling in the soft snow. The laughter, the playful shouts, and the thrill you got from strangling Yangyang made you forget everything else that had been troubling you. Chenle was right, hanging out with everyone was worth it. By the end of the night, you found yourself laughing easily and feeling relaxed.

—-

Renjun had a secret.

He was at your apartment today, just like he was every Tuesday, surrounded by a mess of textbooks and scattered notes. The coffee table was a chaotic mess of highlighters and crumpled paper, a testament to your hard work during the study session. Soft music played in the background and you hummed along quietly.

His secret?

While his roommates thought you were growing distant, Renjun didn’t feel any distance at all. The truth was, he had been tutoring you for months, regularly texting you and making sure to see you once a week since winter break. So when the guys complained about your lack of attention, he just played along. Unlike them, he wasn’t worried about Mark because he didn’t have to be. Mark wasn’t taking you from him, so he couldn’t care less about the “competition.” They had no idea about the tutoring sessions, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. He enjoyed having you all to himself, and he wasn’t about to let anyone ruin that so he kept his mouth shut.

Most of the time, you two really did focus on studying and making progress, but there were occasions when things got heated. By the look in your eyes, Renjun could tell that this would be one of those times.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me when you still haven’t tackled number 7?” he teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch, closing his textbook.

“Because I can’t focus. I’m just… horny,” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Everyone’s been too busy to hook up, and this 8=D is starting to look way too much like a penis!”

Renjun picked up your paper and glanced at it, snorting with laughter. “Well, you literally just made that up, so let’s start there,” he chuckled, handing it back to you as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, trying to find some semblance of concentration.

“It was on the paper, I swear it was!” you protested, dramatically laying your head against the coffee table hoping the cold wood would cool you down.

“Need me to take care of you?” he asked sweetly.

“No, I can do this. I’m just being pathetic,” you insisted, sitting up straight and attempting to put on your best brave face, but it was getting harder by the second.

“Really? Are you sure? I’ll make it quick,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Maybe he needed it just as much as you did.

You looked at him, and your resolve just crumbled. You were starting to feel a bit like a whore, but honestly, it was hard not to be when everyone was so irresistible. Each one of them had their own charm and quirks that you couldn’t help but love. They each drew you in making it impossible for you to replace any of them. You wished they would understand that and stop worrying about Mark.

Renjun was the one who kept the balance among the chaos, never demanding too much but always there when you needed him. That’s what you liked most about him: his easygoing attitude. He could adapt to every situation, cracking jokes at the right moments while always knowing when to be serious. He was sweet but firm, guiding you without pushing. With his playful charm and sass, he kept you on your toes, making every moment fun. Renjun was your anchor, the constant in your life that you could rely on. You could talk to him about anything, and he always knew how to make you feel better. He was your always.

You finally let out a deep sigh, and the tension in your shoulders eased just a little. “Okay, I could use a little help relaxing,” you said as the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, making you think he’s going to lay you down on the mattress but he guides you to the connected bathroom instead. He turns on the shower, checking the temperature and making sure it’s warm enough before both of you start to peel away your clothes. Once under the soothing cascade of water, you let out a sigh of relief.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment, letting you rest and relax against him. Then, he gently pulls away and kisses you, his lips soft against yours. He presses you against the cold tile of the shower, and you shiver, but the warmth of the water quickly envelops you, warming your skin as the kiss deepens.

“Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself?” he whispers, laying kisses under your ear.

“I wouldn't mind” you whisper back, meeting his gaze before bringing his lips back to you.

The water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain. Renjun’s lips trailed along your jawline, his breath warm as the steam rises around you. His thigh pressed firmly between your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as you instinctively rolled your hips against him. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“God, Renjun,” you gasped, your hands sliding up his slick chest to rest on his shoulders. His skin was so smooth under your fingertips and you dug your nails in lightly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of your mouth as if he wanted to memorize it.

His hands slid down your sides to grip your hips. He lifted you slightly, shifting his thigh higher, and you gasped at the sudden pressure against your core. Your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he nipped at your neck, leaving little marks that made you squirm.

You tilted your hips forward, seeking more friction, more contact, more. Renjun chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and he reached down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist. The shift in position made you groan, the angle perfect as he pressed himself harder against you.

“Is this what you needed?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand moved between you, fingers teasing your clit, and you nodded frantically, unable to form words. All you could feel was him—his touch, his warmth, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.

Renjun’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds, and you whimpered, arching into his touch. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You really were desperate, weren’t you?”

You didn’t even try to deny it, too far gone to care about anything except the way his fingers circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked against his hand, chasing the sensation, and he let out a soft groan, his own need evident in the way his hips pressed insistently against your leg.

“Fuck, Renjun,” you moaned, your voice breaking as his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right to make your vision blur. “Don’t stop… please…” If he stopped you would just die. You couldn’t take any more teasing.

“I won’t,” he promised, his lips capturing yours again in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you expertly, plunging in and out while his thumb rubbed tight, insistent circles against your clit. The combination was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your legs trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.

“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something softer there too, something tender that made your heart stutter. You obeyed, locking eyes with him as he increased the pace of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

The command broke something inside you, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering in pleasure. Renjun held you through it, his arms strong and steady as you rode out the aftershocks, your breathing ragged and uneven.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was watching you with a smug grin, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing. “Feel better now?” he asked, his tone light but his expression still hungry.

“Much,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But we're not done.”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I know.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the tiled wall. Anticipation coursing through you as he stepped closer, his chest flush against your back.

“Ready for another?” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips. Your breath hitched as he nipped at your shoulder.

“Always,” you breathed, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled before kicking your legs open further and guiding himself to your entrance, the tip teasing at your slick folds. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

You bit your lip, your whole body quivering with need. “You,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Just you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and then he was pushing into you, filling you completely in one hard stroke. You cried out, the stretch and fullness stealing your breath as he began to move, his pace steady and relentless.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you.

“Harder,” you begged, nails digging into the tiles as he obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum with me,” he growled, his voice strained as he reached around to rub your clit, the added stimulation pushing you over the edge. You shatter, crying out his name as he follows after you, his release spilling deep inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, panting and tangled together, the water washing away the evidence of your passion. Finally, Renjun shifted, pulling you back against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Let me stay tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “No more studying, no more stress. Just us.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple and nodded, holding him tight. “Anything for you, always.”

When you step out he dries you off and helps you slip on a robe and some slippers. He’s got a towel draped around his hips, and another sits on his head as he towel-dries his damp hair. You glance at him, feeling a lazy wave wash over you; the thought of getting dressed seems pointless when you know your hands might wander again throughout the night.

—

Ringing

Ringing

Ringing

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Mark’s phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. After a few moments, you hang up with a frustrated groan. You’ve been trying to reach him all day, and it was unusual for him not to respond at all. You had spoken to him a little over the past week but it was always a quick text here or there. He’s always made time for you, so the silence feels deafening. You try to shrug it off, but something gnaws in the back of your mind.

You make your way to Jisung's door and knock. Chenle answers it, looking like he’s about to head out.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“In his room, playing video games. What’s up?” Chenle says, adjusting his shades.

“Mark’s acting weird, he hasn’t replied to my messages,” you explain.

“Ha ha! Someone's getting a taste of their own medicine!” Chenle teases, grinning. He and the others know the details of your drama with Mark and the guys, but you still haven't told Jisung everything. You didn't know how to bring up your arrangement with Mark without making it awkward. He knows the two of you talk, but you’ve kept the specifics to yourself.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Jisung’s being loud with the game, and I need silence. I’m going to go bother Yangyang and Kun.”

“Just don't go over there stressing Kun. He’s my backup husband and I don't need you raising his blood pressure.”

“Lol whatever,” Chenle laughs, closing the door behind him.

When you enter Jisungs room, you see Jisung seated at his desk, yelling into his mic while playing an online game. Big chunky headphones sit atop his head, and the RGB lights of his keyboard and mouse illuminate his dark room.

You tap his shoulder, causing him to jump and yell into the mic. You hear muffled voices coming from his headset. From Jisung's "Sorry, guys," you can assume his teammates are scolding him for almost bursting their eardrums.

“Hold on, guys, I’ve gotta go AFK real quick,” he says, muting his mic and taking off one headphone.

“You scared me! Did Lele let you in?” he asks, confused.

“Yeah, sorry,” you instantly regret barging in to ask him a dumb question now that you see he’s busy. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Mark lately? He hasn’t been picking up.” Your cheeks heat up when you realize how needy and stupid you sound. Maybe you can’t fault Haechan for the way he acted because here you are sounding the same way.

“Mark? Yeah, one sec,” he replies, pulling up Discord on his second screen. “Looks like he’s playing League with Haechan. They’ve been grinding for days. I swear, he’s addicted.”

“Mark games?” you ask, surprised. He’d never mentioned it before.

“Yeah, he joined our Discord server like a week ago. Haechan got him hooked on Overwatch and League now.”

Your mouth drops open as everything starts to click into place in your mind. That bastard.

You reach for Jisung's mouse and start scrolling through his chat. Sure enough, there are messages back and forth between Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin. It makes sense that they’d be gaming together. Before Jisung can stop you, you begin typing in the chat.

thefamousandy [9:33] Haechan you’re dead

—

Lately it's like Mark is never alone, Haechan is always right there with him. It feels like everywhere you turn, there’s Haechan.You spot them on campus, and it’s hard to miss Haechan casually hanging off Mark’s shoulder, that signature cocky smirk plastered on his face as he catches your eye for a split second. If you text Mark to hang out, his response is always “Can’t, out with Haechan already.”

Finally, you’re hanging out alone with Mark at his place, but instead of the quiet, intimate time you were hoping for, you're subjected to a marathon of Mark's League of Legends ramblings. Every sentence starts with the name "Haechan."

Haechan showed me how to…

Me and Haechan played until…

Haechan is really good at…

Haechan

Haechan

Haechan

You were starting to feel like you're stuck in some kind of bizarre, Haechan-centric vortex. You think you might just kill Haechan.

Mark mentions the others, too, but it's like they're mere background noise. All you can hear is Haechan's name echoing in your mind.

"…and then Haechan told me about this one champion, Ezreal, and how you can use his Mystic Shot to last-hit minions from a safe distance. I'm glad Jisung introduced us I’ve been wanting to get into league for forever” he says and you zone back in

"Wait, wait, Jisung introduced you to Haechan?" you ask.

“Yeah, he said they needed another person on their team,” Mark replies.

Right after Haechan, you think you might just kill Jisung too.

“You really like this game, huh? I want to see if you’re any good,” you tease, already cooking up a plan in your head to shut him up.

Mark blushes a little. “Nah, I’m not that good, really. Haechan carries the team.”

You feel a twitch in your jaw at the sound of that name.

“Well, I want to watch you play. it sounds fun! Maybe I can get good and join too,” you say, determined to keep him focused on you.

Mark beams at you, and you trail behind him to his room as he powers up his computer. Without hesitation, you settle into his lap, and he reaches around you to log in. You can’t help but think he looks adorable in his little gamer headphones.

As he dives into the game, he starts explaining the mechanics and the characters but it all sounds like blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff. Your eyes drift away from the screen and back to Mark's face, where you get lost in the sparkle in his eyes.

“Are you even listening?” Mark chuckles, his smile widening as he glances at you. You realize you’ve been staring at him for the past three minutes.

“Sorry, it’s just… you’re such a nerd, and it’s kinda hot,” you admit.

His cheeks flush a bright red, and he shakes his head, turning back to the screen to hide his embarrassment. You can’t help but smile as you watch him grow shy under your gaze. He playfully scolds you, “Pay attention!”

A notification pops up on his screen. thyluvhae is online.

You watch as Mark types out a response to Haechan’s request to play Overwatch. “Wanna watch me play a quick match?” he asks.

“Of course!” you smile.

Mark turns on his mic and greets the guys, while you settle back into his lap, content to watch for a little while. He finishes a round, glancing over to check if it’s okay to boot up another.

About halfway through his second round, you shift in his lap and push yourself off, kneeling between his legs. Mark’s eyes flicked down to you, wide with surprise, but before he could say anything, someone on his team started shouting instructions, pulling his attention back to the game.

His hands stayed glued to the mouse and keyboard, but you could see the tension in his body as you began to glide your hands up and down his thighs. Your touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. He stuttered a little on his sentences when he responded to something that was said, his voice trembling slightly.

You decided to escalate, pulling him from his sweats. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you heard it. He covered it with a cough, his cheeks flushing as he tried to maintain his composure. You spit on his tip, the wetness glistening in the dim light, and began to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue deviously around his tip before you trail teasing kisses down the side of his cock,

Mark’s hand shot up to mute his mic, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked torn between wanting to tangle his hands in your hair and needing to keep playing the game. The team was too close to victory, and they had been trying all day to secure a win. His moans were quiet and breathy, still afraid someone might hear him.

You paused for a moment, looking up at him deviously. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t be shy,” you whispered. With that you took him back into your mouth and down your throat.

Mark’s moans picked up in volume, his legs spreading wider as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. The sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking filled the room, but you could tell he was struggling to focus. It wasn’t long before his fingers suddenly stopped moving, and he froze. A long, shaky inhale escaped his lips, and his hips twitched upward involuntarily.

You knew you were doing a good job when he let out a low groan, and his fingers flexed on the keyboard. He jolted as someone on his team snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to the game. Quickly, he unmuted himself. “I’m here, I’m here. I—my eyes are just tired. I’m sorry,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to cover up his gasps.

You continued to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, and Mark leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Fuck,” he groaned into the mic, his voice trembling. “F-fuck, I almost died,” he said quickly, trying to cover up his moans.

The match dragged on, and you could feel Mark’s frustration building. His body taut with tension as you continued to work him. Finally, the match ended, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling as he watched you.

Without a word, he reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it as a makeshift handle to control you. “That’s right, open that throat up,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. He pushed your head down, forcing you to take him into the back of your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.

Mark’s head leaned back against the headrest of his gaming chair, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling before pulling you off of him. He shivers with a groan. “Just like that.”

You stare up at him with doe eyes as your lips shine with a mixture of his precum and your saliva. You pump him faster wanting nothing more than to have him paint your face.

Mark bites his lip before pushing you back down on him. You bob your head up and down sloppily just like he liked it until he was releasing down your throat. “Shit,” he groaned, his voice trembling as he moaned your name. You pull away continuing to pump him and the last of his release lands on your face.

He released your hair, and you pulled away, making a show of licking your lips and swallowing. Mark’s eyes were dark with desire, and he reached down to pull you into a kiss. You moaned at the prospect of him tasting himself on your lips, but before the kiss could deepen, he turned off the game and powered down his computer. With a swift motion, he picked you up and threw you into his sheets, his body covering yours, prepared to return the favor.

When you get home, you decide to FaceTime Jisung. He picks up and props his phone up, grabbing a bowl of food. Dressed comfortably in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, he sits at his desk and slurps his dinner.

“What’s up?” he mumbles around a mouthful.

“You were the one who introduced Mark to Haechan!?” you exclaim.

“Yeah, he asked me to! We needed another teammate, so I told them about Mark. How was I supposed to know you were… together?”

“Together? Together in what way?” You roll over onto your stomach in bed, your expression turning serious. Did he mean together together or together together.

“He forgot to mute his mic, and I heard a little too much,” Jisung admits, his face turning red as he looks away from the camera.

You cringe at the thought of what Jisung could have heard. “Are you mad?” you ask, genuinely concerned, your voice softening as you try to gauge his reaction.

“Ew, no! You’re like my sister,” he replies, dismissively.

"I meant about me fucking your cousin, asshat. I said mad, not jealous, genius," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at the screen.

“Why would I be?” he says, taking another bite of his food.

“I don’t know, some people have those boundaries about their family. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t cross any lines,” you explain.

“It’s a little weird, yeah, but that’s probably because I had to listen to him moan in my ear,” Jisung says, shivering slightly at the memory.

“Sorry!” you reply, trying to stifle a laugh. If Jisung had heard that meant Haechan probably had too and you were a little happy to exact a little revenge on him even if you couldn’t see his reaction.

—

As you walk into Mark's house, you're greeted by the sight of Haechan already lounging on the couch, looking like he's made himself right at home. Your face falls, and you shoot Mark a disgruntled glare.

"Seriously?!" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down.

Mark looks apologetic, whispering back, "I'm sorry! He just showed up. I didn't want to be rude."

Haechan, sensing the tension, looks up from his phone with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Hey there! Ready for some fun?"

You force a smile, trying to play it cool, and sit down next to him on the couch. "Can't wait."

Haechan leans back, still grinning, clearly enjoying the fact that he's inserted himself into your plans.

Mark tries to diffuse the situation, saying, "Yeah, we were just about to load up some Mario Kart, actually." He starts rummaging for extra controllers near the TV and turns it on.

“I'm down” You say. It did sound fun but you weren't over here for Mario you were here for Mark and you were trying to play with his other joystick. Mark plops down on the other side of Haechan and passes over the remotes. As the game starts, you quickly take the lead, using your knowledge of the shortcuts and boosts to secure first place. Mark is second, and Haechan is fourth.

As you speed ahead, Haechan tries to take you down with a banana peel, but you dodge it effortlessly. "Too slow," you tease.

The race is heating up, and the three of you are getting increasingly competitive. Mark’s laughter drowns out the sound of the game, and for a moment, you almost forget about Haechan's ever-looming presence. But as the race comes down to the wire, Haechan and Mark make a alliance against you.

“Just let her have it, Mark. I’ll take care of her next round!” Haechan goads.

“Hey! No teaming up!” you yell, half-amused.

Mark just shrugs, a grin plastered to his face as you get blasted with a blue shell that causes you to cross the finish line in second, Haechan gleefully taking first place.

“Cheater” you mumble under your breath.

As the night winds down, Mark puts on a movie and you go grab some blankets while Haechan makes popcorn.

“Wanna share a blanket” You say, trying to snuggle up close to Mark on the couch.

But before Mark can respond, Haechan is back with popcorn and plops down right between you again, acting like a natural cockblock. “Share some with me too.” He hands off the bowl to Mark and throws the cover over all three of you

For whatever reason, Haechan picked a three-hour-long movie, and you're bored out of your mind. You grab your phone and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You [9:45] Come get your roommate hes being a nuisance

You text out an sos to Renjun.

RJ [10:20] Lol which one

You [10:21] The annoying one

RJ [10:23] Jaemin?

You [10:23] annoyingerrrrr

RJ [10:24] Haechan lmaooo What did he do

You [10:25] Cockblockingggggg hes everywhere he wont leave me alone

RJ [10:28] Just fuck him already

Before you can even think of a reply, the bathroom door creaks open, and you jump in surprise. Haechan pokes his head in.

"What the…?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down. “What are you doing?”

Haechan shuts the door behind him and locks it, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were taking too long to come back," he whispers.

"What about Mark?" you ask, trying to keep your cool.

“He fell asleep.”

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "So?"

Haechan chuckles and takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "So I'm bored and I knew you'd be in here, trying to escape."

You poke a finger into his chest, trying to assert your dominance. "You know what you're doing," you hissed.

Haechan's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what's that, princess?"

"You’re cockblocking. Stop getting in my way."

“Or what?” he teases.

Anger boils up in your chest, and you grab Haechan by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're face-to-face, your grip unrelenting. The harsh words you intended to unleash fade away, caught in your throat. Instead, you slam your lips against his, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Haechan hisses in pain, but rather than pulling away, he leans into the kiss. He's been wanting this for too long, and now that it's finally happening, he's not about to let go.

He tries to push you up against the bathroom counter but with a swift move, you flip your positions around, pinning Haechan up against the counter instead.

Your eyes blaze with fury as you pull away from the kiss. "You think you're clever, stealing Mark away from me like that?" you hiss.

"Someones jealous," he says. His lip is slightly bleeding from the harsh bite, but he's not bothered, instead, he licks at it cockily.

Your anger only grows, and you reach forward, hands tangling in the back of his head, tugging hard enough to make Haechan whine. "You want me?" you say, your breath hot against his lips, your knee pressing up between his legs, making him shudder.

You've taken a few pages from Jaemin's playbook, it seems, learning how to put someone in their place, how to make them feel submission and powerlessness. And from the look on Haechan's face, it's working. He doesn't look so cocky anymore, instead, he looks…vulnerable. Helpless.

Haechan's head nods as best as he can in your grip, the defiance in his earlier demeanor fading.

"When have you ever been afraid to run that mouth?" you say. “Speak up.”

The way he’s pressed up against your knee, you can see a change in his gaze. He’s Hard against your thigh and his body is pressed impossibly close to yours, like you were his only lifeline.

"I want you. I need you so bad," he admits, his voice small.

You can't help but pat his cheek, a smirk forming on your lips. "Good boy."

He whines, reaching out to pull you close, eager to reconnect your lips, but you simply pull away entirely, enjoying the way he falls, eyes swirling with confusion and longing.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Hands behind your back," you instruct. "You have to earn it if you want to touch me."

He complies without hesitation, his eyes innocent and docile, and something wicked stirs within you; you want to ruin him, to break him. You think you will.

Pressing yourself back against him, you slot your leg between his thighs again, "Go ahead, grind against me. Show me how pathetic you are, and maybe I’ll take pity on you."

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers gripping tightly against the cool marble counter of Mark's bathroom. "I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

“Don't make me tell you again.”

Haechan swallows hard, his breath hitching at your authority. You can see the conflict in his eyes—part of him wants to push back and be a brat, but the other part, the one craving you, is ready to surrender completely.

Haechan whines softly as he grinds against your thigh, his gaze locked onto yours. Your fingers grip the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, frustration evident as he aches to reach out and grab you, to pull you closer, but he holds himself back, wanting to please you, to be good for you.

As your hands sneak under his shirt, you feel the warmth of his skin. You rake your nails down his stomach, teasingly, before pinching his nipples. The sound that escapes him is a soft moan, and you swallow his noises pressing your lips together until they are sure to bruise.

Your hands continue their exploration, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. You tug at the fabric, freeing him from its confines, your grip finding the base of him. You hold him firmly, feeling the way he twitches under your touch, and you look at him with a smile.

“Spit on it,” you instruct him sweetly.

Haechan gazes at you with a hazy expression and rosy cheeks as he collects his saliva in his mouth. The spit drips down onto the head of his cock, and he sighs at the way it trickles down. His breath hitches as you tighten your grip just slightly.

“You listen so well, why can't you be like this all the time?” you say in a whisper.

You stroke him slowly, ensuring to twist your wrist around the head as you move up. Your movements are deliberate, slow, and drawn out to drive him crazy.

His hips buck up into your grasp.. You make a ring around the head of his cock with your fist and watch as he fucks into it. His breath is choppy, and his noises are high-pitched as he throws his head back.

“You make me feel so fucking good, I can't take this,” he cries. “I need you.”

“Shut up before you wake up Mark,” you say cruelly. Your hand stops at the base of his cock and squeezes punishingly causing him to curse and shudder.

Your hand starts moving again, and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking a pretty bruise into the skin there. You nip at the skin meanly before pulling away. You release him and the noise he makes is devastating. You laugh in his face and mock him.

“Grip it, you think I'm going to do all the work for you?”

Both hands lift off the counter, but you stop him. “Keep one hand on the counter and don't move it.”

He follows your instructions, gripping himself firmly. He doesn't move, just looks at you waiting for your next command.

“Look at you catching on fast,” you commend him. “Show me how you like it.”

A broken whine leaves his lips as he starts fisting his cock in front of you. His cheeks are red, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doesn't stop.

His pace is fast and rough, and he bites his lip to silence his moans. “Slow down,” you instruct.

He shakes his head stubbornly. “Can’t, so close.” He says, words coming out broken.

“You want to finish like that? Be my guest, but you’re not fucking me.”

He whines, but finally stops, his chest heaving as he fights back his orgasm.

“You’re hard headed, so don’t think you’ll be rewarded.” You lean over the counter, pulling your bottoms down but leaving your underwear on. “Fuck my thighs, that's all you get.”

Haechan is behind you in seconds, pushing into the tight space between your thighs. He leans over you, his hips slapping noisily against your ass as he chases his high. His fingers dip into your underwear, playing with your slickness before plunging deep inside you. His fingers match the rhythm of his thrusts, and he imagines it’s his cock filling you.

“Wanna fuck this pussy so bad. You’re so fucking selfish.” He moans in your ear, slowly transforming back into the brat you know and love.

“You’re always doing me dirty, but I still worship this pussy.” His free hand grips your hip, his fingernails biting into your skin. “I’d fill you up, stretch you out like you need, but you won’t let me.”

You moan at his words, grinding back against him as his fingers plunge deeper. “I should fucking break you. I’m too nice to you.”

You’re not sure when the tables turned, but you’re soaking his fingers. He curls his digits deep inside you, and suddenly you’re cumming. He pulls his fingers out and slides your panties to the side, lining up at your entrance. He splits you open and moans at how wet you feel. Wet squelching fills the bathroom as he begins to fuck you. You want to protest but he feels so good you can’t. You hadn’t felt him in so long you would be insane to stop him now.

He had needed this for so long but he's frustrated beyond belief because he's already so close. This was not how he’d envisioned having you after so long. But it was alright, there would always be a next time, and next time, you would be his good girl.

He grips your hair roughly pulling you back to meet his lips and after a few more deep thrusts he's cumming inside you, groaning in frustration. He pulls out, and your panties slip back into place, trapping his cum inside of you. You both clean up and fix your appearances. Honestly, you had forgotten whose house you were at, and you cringe at the thought of how loud you must have been.

You both try to make your way back to the living room as inconspicuous as possible. When you enter the room, Mark is sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep. You sigh in relief; he’s always been a heavy sleeper, and you thank the lord for that.

“Wanna go fuck on his bed?” Haechan jokes.

You punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up”

—

Jeno had finally convinced you to come with him to the gym. The cold air nipped at your skin as you approached the entrance, and it was late, making you question how he managed to get you here. Maybe it was the fact that you had been missing him more than you cared to admit.

“One more rep, you got this!” he motivates from behind you, his chest pressed warmly against your back, closer than what was probably necessary. The 10-pound dumbbells in your hands were starting to feel like they weighed a ton, and you could feel the burn in your muscles as you struggled through the sets of butterflies. “Come on, don’t stop. Almost there!”

His hands ghost beneath your arms, providing just the right amount of support to help you finish your last rep. You exhale a heavy sigh when you’re finally done, sweat slick against your forehead and trickling down the sides of your face.

“Good girl,” he coos, a playful glint in his eye as he hands you your water bottle.

“I’m never coming back here,” you declare, plopping down on a nearby bench, your legs feeling like jelly. The gym had already long closed for the night, leaving the two of you alone. Jeno had started working part-time at the gym and had gained free access to the equipment during off hours. You spent the first hour there helping him tidy up, wiping down machines and stacking weights, before he finally dragged you onto the floor for a workout. Once he noticed how bad your form was, he stepped right in, transforming into your personal trainer.

“Don’t be like that, it’s not so bad! Besides, who else is going to keep me company?” he pouts cutely.

“I don’t know… how about you bring the other musclehead?” you say.

“It’s easier to work out when I’m looking at something pretty,” he replies.

“Since when isn’t Jaemin pretty?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he counters, sitting down beside you on the bench. You can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders fill out his tank top. He hands you his sports water bottle, and you shoot a mouthful of water down your throat.

“Have you had enough fun torturing me yet? Can we leave now?” You yawn, stretching your arms above your head and feeling the pleasant release in your muscles.

He takes the water bottle back and drinks from it before he stands to find his bag. “Yeah, want to shower first?”

You try to follow him into the men’s locker room but he stops you abruptly, a serious look crossing his face. You quirk an eyebrow, and he gives you a stern look in return. “Cameras, dummy,” he reminds you, then dramatically gestures toward the women’s bathroom, his playful tone returning. With a chuckle, you head in the opposite direction, hoping anyone monitoring the footage later would see you as merely lost.

After you freshen up, you meet him in the office, where he’s already sitting at his desk. “I just need to finish up a few more things, and then we can go,” he says.

You take a seat on the edge of the desk, watching him as he focuses intently on the screen. He logs something on the computer, brows furrowed as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. He looks so good, especially with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, beads of water clinging to the ends.

Reaching over, you grab the towel draped around his neck and gently use it to dry his hair a little further. When you pull away, he instinctively reaches out without looking and kisses the back of your hand in thanks, his lips brushing against your skin softly. The warmth of his gesture sends a flutter through you.

You need him bad.

Your eyes dart around the room, scanning every high corner and every hidden nook, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, Jen, are there any cameras in here?” you ask.

“No,” he responds absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the computer screen, focused on the task at hand.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“Anything you want, sweet girl, just shut the door,” he replies. You shut the office door, the soft click of the latch resonating in the otherwise quiet space, effectively sealing the two of you inside.

Jeno scoots back in his chair, giving you ample room to settle down on his lap. You straddle his waist, positioning yourself so that you’re facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he resumes his work.

After a few moments, he hits the last key of the keyboard with a sound of finality, and then the soft whirring of the computer comes to a stop as he shuts it down. You pull back slightly to look at him

“I’m done, baby. You ready?” he asks

You shake your head no, your eyes glazing over and you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips against his in a kiss.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then his body responds instinctively; his hands slide up your thighs to grip your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepens as all the air in the room seems to disappear, his tongue brushing against yours in a slow waltz.

You break away from the kiss just enough to whisper, “There’s one more workout I want to try before we leave.”

Jeno snorts a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Corny,” he teases.

You give his shoulder a playful slap, pouting slightly. “Stop! I’m trying to be sexy!”

He just shakes his head at you in amusement before bringing your lips back together.He shifts in the chair, his hands guiding you to adjust your position. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your gym clothes, his body pressed against yours, hard and throbbing.

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he lifts you slightly, guiding you to grind against him. The friction is everything, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you gasp into his mouth. He chuckles, the sound vibrates against your lips. “You like that?”

You nod, unable to form words as his hands move to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel a flush of heat as his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands fumble with the tie of his sweats, eager to feel him. He helps you, shoving his bottoms down just enough to free himself, and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the sight of him.

You shift back slightly, lining yourself up with him, and then you’re sinking down, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, it's a fullness that makes your head spin. You let out a shaky breath and your hands grip his shoulders for support as you adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jeno groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helps you move. You start slow, rocking against him, testing the rhythm, but it’s not enough. You need more.

You lift yourself up slightly before sinking back down, harder this time, and the moan that escapes Jeno’s lips is enough to spur you on. You set a steady pace, riding him with a growing urgency. He matches your fire as his hips snap up to meet you halfway. His hands roam over your body,the pads of his fingers touching and teasing to drive you wild.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in praise. “Just like that.”

His words fuel you, and you move faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect angle. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, building and building until you’re teetering on the edge.

“Jeno,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you cling to him. “I’m so close.”

He tightens his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Come for me sweetie, ” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you shatter, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. He follows you with a low groan, his hips jerking up as he spills himself inside you, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his own climax.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the two of you clinging to each other as you come down from the high. Jeno’s hands move up your back, pulling you close, and you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling.

“I’m ready now,” you say with a breathy laugh.

As you drive back, Jeno’s hands are interlocked with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your palm lovingly. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, a soft smile on his lips as he hums along to the melody playing on the radio.

In moments like this, you feel a flicker of guilt. He’s so loving, so affectionate, and you absolutely cherish it, but a nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind. You know he likes you, and your heart aches every time you consider it because you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship. The last thing you want to do is break his heart.

You can’t keep putting it off forever.

“Jeno, can I ask you a question?” you say.

He hums in response, granting you permission to go on, his attention still largely on the road.

“How do you feel about me?” you ask shakily.

A look of surprise crosses his face, and he stutters for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally says, “Honestly, at first, I had a crush on you. I kind of still do, but I know casual is your thing, and I don’t want to ruin what we have now,” he confesses.

“Jeno, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you want, we can stop. I don’t want to keep trampling on your heart like this.” You knew friends with benefits could become a dangerous game once feelings got involved. You wish you could return his feelings fully, envisioning a future together, but the timing isn’t right for you.

Jeno shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face as he squeezes your hand tighter. “No, really, it’s not like that. It’s not some undying love, and I’m not heartbroken that you don’t feel the same way. I’m a grown-up, I can handle it,” he laughs lightly, dispelling some of the heaviness in the air.

You sigh a little in relief and you can see in his eyes that he means it. You could kind of feel the shift as well. Before he was more like a love sick puppy but now he's more….content? Mature? It feels like you’re connecting on a different level, almost like best friends, similar to how you feel with Renjun.

Your heart blooms at the thought. Maybe when you’re ready, Jeno will be the first place you look.

—

Sunnyboy [9:00] jun forgot to pay for the wifi can i come over and use yours? library closed and have a paper due at 12

You read the message, a small smirk playing on your lips as you consider the true intention behind it. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine he’s just making up an excuse to end up at your place, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy his company. When he arrives, though, it becomes clear he wasn’t lying.

Haechan sits on your couch, furiously typing away at his laptop, his face stone serious as he races against the clock. Classic him—procrastinating until the last possible minute to whip up something to submit for an assignment he had weeks to complete.

You quietly make him some tea, settling down by the window with a book you had been eagerly waiting to dive into. The storm outside intensifies, rain pounding against the glass, setting the perfect atmosphere for a cozy read while Haechan works alongside you. After about an hour of reading the thunder was becoming too distracting, striking down hard and scaring you away from the window and onto the couch next to haechan.

“Scaredy cat,” Haechan teases without taking his eyes off the screen.

You roll your eyes playfully, closing your book and propping your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment to watch him focus. It’s five minutes to twelve, and he’s typing furiously, powering through the conclusion. Just as he finishes and hits the submit button, the storm roars louder, and suddenly the power cuts out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Shit!… YES!” he cries in triumph as he realizes the submission page went through just in time.

You laugh beside him. “Your luck scares me sometimes.”

He turns to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, and he leans over to kiss you in celebration. “Thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver,” he says.

“Anytime.”

Finally catching sight of the storm outside, his eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, when did it get that bad? I don’t think I can drive in that,” he worries.

“Did you think I was going to make you? You’re staying over.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Me and you all alone in the dark? Does that mean I finally got you all to myself?”

With a teasing smile, you stand up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom. “How will we possibly pass the time?” you ask, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

He closes his laptop, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he follows. “I have a couple ideas.”

Once you cross the threshold of your bedroom door you turn to face him, a playful grin dancing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you begin to strip, giving him a show as you remove each piece of clothing, throwing them at him tauntingly.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” you tease as you toss your shirt in his direction and he catches it before it can land on his head. His eyes roam up and down your body hungrily, and you could sense the dominant headspace he was slipping into. You realize it wouldn’t be like last time, you wouldn’t be in control.

“You will be,” he states firmly, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling it above his head as he strides towards you.

"I'm so scared," you taunt, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as you saunter backward towards the bed, your hips swaying with every step. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you?” He says finally standing in front of you.

You smirk, as your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.” In an instant he's pushing you down and climbing on top of you. His lips crash against yours and his tongue seeks entrance eagerly. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. But he swiftly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trails down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He spreads your legs open roughly, forcing his way between them and grinding his hips down sharply against you.

“Feel me, baby? That’s what you do to me,” he moans against your skin.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”

“Begging already?” he teases, his fingers slipping between your bodies and dipping inside you. “I haven’t even started yet.”

He collects your juices on his fingers before he pulls them out, savoring the taste of you on his tongue when he licks them clean. “Sweet.” He groans before connecting your lips again. You chase the taste, but he pulls back, sitting up to strip off the rest of his clothes. Breathless, you watch as he reveals himself, his hard cock standing at attention.

He slips off the bed, positioning you how he wants. You find yourself lying on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Tap if you need air,” is the only warning you get before he slips his cock past your lips.

One hand grips the back of your neck while the other trails down your body, teasing your nipples before he’s leaning down to kiss your navel.

You relax your throat, taking him deeper with every thrust. There’s little for you to do other than lay there and be his toy. His movements are gentle at first, but then he picks up the pace, thrusting harder as he watches the way he bulges in your throat.

Suddenly, he spreads your legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to your cunt, making you jump. He circles your clit expertly before opening you up again with his fingers. You moan around his cock, and he shivers at the vibrations the sound makes.

His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more forceful as he fucks your mouth. You choke, and he moans, pushing himself down your throat and holding himself there despite your struggles for breath. You hold on until tears prick your eyes and he finally pulls back to allow you to gasp for air.

“So good,” he whispers as you catch your breath, focusing now on fucking you with his fingers.

You clench around his fingers and he pulls out delivering a wet slap to the inside of your thigh. “Not yet”

Using the juices that coat his fingers, he strokes his cock, covering himself in you before he thrusts back down your throat. The wet, gargled sounds echo in the room, and his balls slap against your forehead as he pushes into your mouth.

With a light grip around your throat, he wanted to feel the way he moved inside of you, his thrusts quickening. You can sense he’s close, but after a few long, slow strokes, he pulls out, not wanting to finish yet. He helps you sit up, and you know your throat will be sore tomorrow.

You crawl further up the bed and get on your hands and knees, but as he joins you, he delivers a slap to your ass, shaking his head. “No, I want to see you. Turn over.”

You follow his command, spreading your legs wide for him, a desperate need coursing through you.

He lines himself up at your entrance, teasingly gliding his tip through your folds. “Tell me you want me,” he says, his free hand gripping your throat tightly.

“I want you so bad,” you say struggling to breathe.

He slips inside, just barely giving you the tip, teasing you as he pushes in and out. “Tell me you missed me.”

You nod pathetically. “I missed you, bear.”

A low moan escapes his lips at the nickname, and he responds by giving you another inch. “Now apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ll think twice before I do it again,” you reply slyly.

He smiles. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I get it from you,” you tease, rolling your hips up daringly with a soft moan.

Without a word, he tightens his grip on your throat, thrusting into you hard. His hips slap against yours loudly, your back arching at the intensity. He doesn’t hold back or let you ease into it, he starts fucking you into the mattress.

“Not so funny now, is it?” he breathes, his movements relentless.

Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked together to keep him close. “Fuck!” you moan, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He leans down, connecting his lips with yours, moaning into your mouth as he lets go of your throat. His hand moves down to grip your hips instead, leaning until your chests touch. Buried in your neck, his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as he lifts your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He fills you completely, stretching you in all the ways you love, and the sounds he makes in your ear has you clenching tight around him.

Suddenly, he pulls out, manhandling you into a new position. He grips your ankles, yanking your legs from around his waist and pushing them above your head. Your hamstrings stretch to the limit, but he pins you down, making sure you take every bit of him. He pounds into you from above, and you claw at his skin, all you could think about was how he feels inside you.

“Look at you,” he says, his eyes locked on where he’s plunging deep inside you. “Spread open like this, pussy swallowing me so easily. We trained you well, huh? You’re a fucking pro.”

One of his hands releases your ankle, dropping down to rub your clit with urgency. His fingers move in a blur, pushing you to the edge as he strikes that perfect depth. You squirm in his grasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure building inside you. It’s almost too much, and every thrust makes it harder to hold on.

“Come on, baby, you know what I want. Don’t fight it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your chest.

Your body tenses and you're practically showering him with how hard you squirt. Your walls force him out and he just sits back and watches you convulse and make a mess.

He smiles wickedly at you “look at the mess you made.” Your juices drip down his chest and stomach.

Your cheeks heat up, and you watch, frozen, as he takes in the sight of you. “Don't get shy now,” he teases, before plunging back into you.

You're drenched, so wet that he slips in and out of you with ease. He loses all sense of control, the grip of his hands is bruising as his hips grind down hard. His moans are loud and primal, and he gets rougher the closer he gets to the edge. He slaps your thigh harshly, trying to keep you still and open for him as you squirm, trying to close your legs from the overstimulation.

“I know you can take it big girl come on,” he coos.

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you plead.

He slaps your cheek, the shock of the pain sending a jolt through your body. Then, he grips your face, his eyes boring into yours as he chants, “Take it. Take it. Take it,” with each thrust.

“Yes! Haechan!” You moan.

He uses extra strength to keep your hips pinned down as he uses you. His eyes flutter and his brows furrow and he finally cums deep inside of you. “Fuuck” he moans drawn out. His hips continue to move, fucking you through his high. He didn't want to stop, his thrusts turning pathetic as he finally succumbs to his overstimulation and locks up, unable to move.

When he finally pulls away, everything is sticky and wet, and you're left lying, exhausted, on the bed. The wet sheets stick to your body as you peel yourself off.

“Ew, who made this mess?” Haechan teases, as he changes the sheets, and you throw a pillow at him, leaving to take a shower.

Once he's finished cleaning up, he joins you in the shower for round two.

—

Chenle had rented a cozy cabin for the weekend, and you and your friends sat in front of the fireplace, laughing and sharing stories as the night wore on. Some movie flickered on the screen behind you, mostly forgotten as you all munched on snacks, wrapped up in blankets scattered across the floor.

Jisung was the only one still watching the movie, completely engrossed given the fact he picked it. It was some old alien abduction movie that the internet told him had “real alien footage” in it.

Meanwhile, Yangyang was sprawled on the couch, completely passed out, a half-spilled bag of Cheeto puffs resting on his chest.

You, Mia, Yuna, and Chenle were deep into your usual gossip session.

“Guys, I can’t hear anything! It’s getting good!” Jisung complained, shooting you an exasperated look.

“That’s what captions are for!” Yuna shot back.

“Spoiler, the aliens are fake,” you added.

“Shut up bro. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung hissed back in annoyance

“Can you all ignore him like I do and focus?” Chenle scolded, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m trying to find out what happened next!”

The group pressed you for the juicy details of your sex life, eager to hear what had happened since you last caught them up. You had spent the day playing drinking games, chatting, and even sledding outside. But now, with the moon high in the sky, it was the perfect time for some dirty gossip.

“Basically, he had my legs up like this,” you said, using Mia as a demonstration dummy. Your friends were nosy, they wanted explicit details and you were more than happy to share with the table.

Mia started moaning dramatically, adding to the theatrics, and you playfully smacked her butt before pushing off.

“Omggggg, where do you find these guys?” Yuna squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mia sits up and grabs her snack, throwing some trail mix in her mouth. “Literally, it’s not fair! You’re hogging all the good dick!”

“Sorry, guys, find your own.” you retorted.

“So, what are you going to do next?” Chenle asked, his tone turning more serious.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to gauge where he was going with this.

“In the long run—are you going to pick one or…?” he left the question hanging.

“Yeah, whoever you don’t pick, I call dibs,” Mia chimed in jokingly.

You felt a weight settle in your chest as reality hit you. You hadn’t truly confronted the question. The thought of the "what ifs" and "whens" sent a shiver of fear through you and whenever your mind would wander to those questions you ran away.

“I really don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I guess I’m just scared. I don’t think I can handle being thrown away again. I’m not ready to open my heart up yet,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s understandable,” Yuna replied gently. “But what about them? Are you sure they haven’t caught feelings?”

“I talked to Jeno about his feelings, and we came to an understanding,” you shared. “But for the others, as far as I know, it’s been strictly casual.”

“Just have five boyfriends,” Chenle suggested with a shrug. “That way, if one dumps you, you have a backup.”

“That’s the kind of greed they warn about in the Bible,” you laughed. “You know your ideas are always terrible, right?”

“I say don’t worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy yourself.” Mia advised with a wink.

“Be young and turnt!” Yuna added, throwing her hands up in a playful cheer.

You laugh and the talk lifts a weight off your shoulders. They were right. You should just enjoy what life threw your way and accept things for what they were.

“Glad we had this chat. Now can we watch the movie? The aliens are about to have an orgy!” Jisung exclaimed.

All heads whip towards the screen.

“Got your dumb ass now, watch the movie,” he scolded, a triumphant grin on his face.

—

Mark invited you over for game night with the guys, and you were a bundle of nerves. The last time all of you were together, things got a bit… wild. Mark had really bonded with the others outside of gaming, and they all hung out often now. You never knew who you'd run into when you arrived - sometimes it was Haechan, but other times you'd catch Jaemin just as he was slipping out the door, sending you a sly wink as he left. On occasion, you'd find Jeno sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in animal crossing on Mark's Switch while you and Mark would sneak off to his room for a quickie. Essentially, Mark’s house had become the new hangout spot.

When you got there, the kickback was already in full swing. The guys were all over the house. You could smell food, and you were already feeling better about being there. Jaemin and Jeno were locked in a Mario Kart battle, while Mark and Haechan were in the kitchen watching Renjun carefully arrange the food as they rambled about some MMORPG. Your stomach growled at the sight of the spread. Ducking past the TV, you slipped into the kitchen, offering greetings as you passed.

You walk up behind Renjun, swiping a nacho while he adjusts a bowl of salsa, tilting it ever so slightly for the perfect angle, everything had to be perfect for maximum snacking efficiency. It's the second time he's done so since you walked up. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers the placement. "I wasn't done yet," he grumbles, not looking up, his focus solely on the geometric harmony of the snack arrangement. You kiss his cheek with a laugh and turn to Mark and Haechan.

"What are you geeks talking about?" you tease.

"Don't listen to her babe, she just doesn't get us," Haechan jokingly reassures Mark.

Mark laughs, nudging him in the arm. "Dude, shut up."

Renjun straightens, pleased with his organization of the snacks. "We were waiting for you to get here so we could actually eat before the game," he says, gesturing towards Haechan. "He's been trying to sneak chips since we got here."

"Not sorry," Haechan shrugs, already reaching for the salsa.

"Okay, I'm starving," you say. Everyone piles into the kitchen, assembling their own plates before heading back out into the living room. Conversation flows easily as you all eat, enjoying the food Renjun brought for everyone.

Once the food is gone and the cleanup is finished, you collapse onto the couch. "So, what game are we thinking?" you ask innocently.

You hadn't yet realized you had walked into a wolf den.

"Well, before you got here, we were having a nice little chat with Mark," Jaemin says, his tone giving away exactly what that chat entailed. He's sitting to your left on the couch, too close for comfort. “We thought of the perfect game.”

"Oh," you laugh nervously. "…Really? And what's that?"

"Mark here thinks he's the best you've ever had, but clearly he hasn't met me," Haechan chimes in from his spot on the floor, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.

"This was their idea," Renjun says, gesturing to Haechan and Jaemin. He's standing near the TV, having just returned from throwing something away in the kitchen.

"Hear them out, though. It will be fun I promise," Jeno adds from beside Haechan.

Your head whips back and forth, searching for someone, anyone, who'll give you a straight answer. What the hell was going on.

"I thought I was special, baby. You should have told me you were fucking around," Mark says, his voice laced with a teasing possessiveness. "I don't mind, though, as long as they know I fuck you the best." He's on your right, effectively boxing you in.

Your face heats up instantly, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

"W-what are you guys talking about?" you stammer.

Finally, Renjun takes pity on you. "They want to see who can make you cum the fastest."

You knew nothing good would come of having them all together in one room. "And what does the winner get?" you ask, swallowing hard.

"The winner gets you all to themselves for a week," Haechan says, his smile predatory. Definitely his idea.

Jaemin pulls something from his pocket and hands it to you. "We're gonna roll this die, and that will decide how we try to make you cum" he says. It was a sexy die. Of course, Jaemin’s freaky ass had a sexy die. Written on its sides were “Fingers,” “Thigh,” “Dick,” “Dry Hump,” “Tongue,” and a Free Space.

"Some of these aren't very advantageous," you point out.

Mark shrugs, a confident smirk on his face. "That's the fun of it."

They were the players, and you were their board.

"You down? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course," Mark adds.

You take a deep breath. "I’m down." If you were honest with yourself, you were more than down. "How are we doing this?"

"You'll be the timekeeper to make sure it’s fair, and we'll start oldest to youngest," Renjun informs you, inching closer to the couch as the game is about to begin.

You nod, your heart racing as you contemplate what’s coming. You can already feel yourself growing wet despite them not having done anything yet.

"I’m first," Mark says, his voice a low rumble beside you. He pulls you to straddle him, his eyelids heavy as he takes in how pretty you look perched up on his lap. He leans back lazily on the couch and he reaches up to grab the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer for a kiss. His hands are busy stripping you while your lips move against each other. his touch drags teasingly over your body as he removes your clothes. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you gasp, and his hips grind into you from below as he helps you adjust your position after removing your panties.

"He's cheating lowkey," Renjun complains.

"Literally," Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“Yea! you're getting a head start, hands off.” Haechan chimes in.

“I'm just helping her undress to make it easier," he smirks, raising his hands in defeat.

He takes the die from your hands, his fingers lingering against your palm, sending a shiver down your spine. He tosses it onto the coffee table in front of you, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes turn towards it, anticipation thick in the air, to see what it lands on.

THIGH

Mark groans at the fate that's been dealt to him, while the others snicker.

"That's what you get," Haechan teases.

Renjun quickly hands over his phone, the timer already pulled up.

"You ready?" you ask Mark, a sly smirk on your face, finding amusement in the choice he got.

His hands gripping your waist firmly as he positions you over his jean-clad thigh. His face showed nothing but determination. "I'm ready, baby."

You start the timer and Mark doesn't waste any time. His mouth descends upon your breasts, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin as he bounces you on his thigh, the friction creates a delicious sensation, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You're already wet, and the way he's handling you, dragging you over his thigh wasn’t helping the wet patch forming on his jeans. He slaps your ass before gripping it roughly, "just like that, baby, give it to me," he breathes against your skin, words muffled against the nipple in his mouth.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You love when he talks dirty, the sound of his voice doing something primal to you. You grind down roughly against his thigh, chasing your orgasm, wanting to be good for him. His hand finds your breast, joining the insistent tug of his lips as he expertly works you up. You tremble, a live wire under his ministrations. You were surprised at yourself. You didn't think you could come from a little thigh riding, but the rough pads of Mark's fingers, the way they pinch and tug at your nipples as you grind against him… it's only a matter of time now.

A hand reaches out for your face. You expect it to be Mark's, but his hands are fully occupied. It's Jaemin's face that greets you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulls you into a searing kiss. Your surprise breaks way to pleasure as you let him take control.

His kiss melts you, and a whimper tumbles from your lips. You kiss him back feverishly and he matches your passion as his tongue slides into your mouth. Mark's hands tighten on your waist, his movements becoming rougher, pressing you down harder against his thigh. Mark's mouth, his hands, and his thigh, along with Jaemin's hot wet tongue, drives you over the edge.

You cum against Mark's thigh with a shuddering gasp, the phone almost slipping from your grasp before you realize you have to stop the timer.

8 minutes 19 seconds

Haechan groans dramatically when you show everyone the time. “You fucking helped him, dumbass! He could’ve gotten to 10 minutes,” Haechan complains, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Jaemin shrugs, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, "I don't care."

"I'm next," Renjun pipes up from his spot on the floor, a gleam in his eye. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch, Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno all sat crowded at your feet on the floor ensuring they had the best view of the show.

You climb off Mark's lap, and Renjun takes his place on the couch, settling in comfortably. "You're literally last, trade places with me," Haechan tells Jaemin.

Jaemin just rolls his eyes and scoots down on the couch, allowing Haechan to take his place and sit on the other side of you. Mark situates himself on the floor beside your leg.

Once everyone is settled and comfortable, Renjun rolls the die. Everyone holds their breath as it rolls to a stop.

DICK

"Fuck yes!" he shouts in triumph.

Everyone else groans in unison, but you can't help but smile. You didn't care who did it; you were just happy that you're finally getting filled up.

"It's rigged," Jeno huffs.

"Shut up, dog boy," Renjun smiles, unbuckling his pants.

Renjun pulls himself from his confines and strokes himself a few times before helping you over his lap. "Take all the time you need, baby, I don't mind," he winks.

He didn't care about winning, not when he still had his Tuesdays with you. Also why would he rush you, if you were riding his dick he was winning either way. He helps you sink down on his cock, and you start the timer, biting your lip at the stretch.

You could feel their eyes burning into you as you ride Renjun, other moans accompanying yours as you bounce on his hips. You look over and see Haechan already pulled himself free, stroking himself lazily while watching you intently. One of his hands reaches out to grab your wrist, resting your hand in his lap,and you grip him. Jeno is a little more conscious, only palming himself through his sweats, while Mark does the same. Jaemin sits beside Haechan, leaning back cockily, waiting for his turn.

You're so turned on it's driving you crazy; Renjun's hips kick up, fucking up into you roughly. "God damn," he moans, his eyes locked on yours.

You bounce on him with everything you have while trying to stimulate Haechan. Renjun feels amazing and with everyone watching, you feel twice as sensitive. You press your lips against his, and you kiss him desperately. "I'm close," you moan.

He grips your waist, stilling your movements, before grinding you down against him. He spreads his legs a little wider, then jackhammers up into you, jostling you around in his lap. You grip his phone with one hand and release Haechan from your other. All you could focus on at the moment was Renjun.

"Hold it, baby, there's no rush," he says, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. You throw your head back, and a loud moan escapes your throat.

You take it, savoring every second as he fucks you. You feel yourself tightening down around him, close to cumming, but he slows almost to a stop.

"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but hurry up!" Jeno groans, his impatience growing.

Renjun throws his head back, his hands gripping your waist tight as he guides you up and down his cock. He makes you ride him slow, enjoying every moment of being inside of you as he drags out his time.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans out. You could tell by the lazy look in his eyes he was enjoying this. He looked like he was floating on a cloud, high off the feeling he got when he was 6 inches deep in your warm cunt.

His hips pick up their pace, and you can tell he's close. He pulls you down into a kiss, smacking your ass as you ride him. You can feel your orgasm building back up quickly, and with one well-placed deep thrust, he's cumming deep inside you. You shiver as he fills you up and spill over the edge with him, clamping down hard as you cum together.

10 minutes 22 seconds

The others look at the two of you, unsure if they should be happy or mad that Renjun just lost, because from the blissed out look on his face did he really?

Renjun helps you off his lap and you sit down on the couch, your legs still gently shaking. You can feel your wetness dripping onto Mark’s couch, and you cringe a little at the thought.

Renjun stands up and zips his pants again while Jeno takes his spot. Die already in hand, he rolls it on the coffee table eagerly.

FREE

The gods must have been looking down on Jeno, because he rolled a free space, and he was about to use the hell out of it. Jeno was in it to win it.

His eyes lock onto Haechan and Jaemin. "Get off the couch," he commands.

Haechan groaned, his hand still wrapped around his hardness, but he obeyed, sliding off the couch with a reluctant sigh. Jaemin, however, didn’t move. Not an inch. Jeno’s glare sharpened, but Jaemin simply raised a cocky brow, his expression daring Jeno to make him. Jeno rolls his eyes but doesn't push any further. He had other priorities.

Jeno tugged his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. His muscles flexed as he tossed the fabric aside. “Lay down,” he ordered. You obeyed instantly and sank into the couch cushions.

Jaemin shifted slightly, settling your head into his lap with a handsome smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he caressed your face. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, he always looked good from above you.

Jeno noticed, his jaw tightened and a flicker of irritation crossing his features. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He freed himself, thick and heavy, and positioned himself between your legs. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to him. “Pay attention, baby,” he reprimands you. “Start the timer.”

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the phone, your breath hitching as Jeno’s free hand caressed your thighs. The moment the timer started, Jeno didn’t waste a second. He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and bottoms out instantly. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching slightly off the couch. Jeno’s thrusts were sharp, precise, and calculated, each one driving deeper, harder, you could feel him all the way to the tips of your toes.

You moaned embarrassingly loud, your free hand gripping the couch cushions for support. Jeno’s rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and the occasional grunt from Jeno.

From his new spot on the coffee table, Haechan moaned, “Shit,” his hand moving faster now as he watched you get fucked. His face was twisted in pleasure, his eyes locked on where Jeno was buried deep inside you. Mark had grown a little bolder. His hand now down his pants, his strokes slow but deliberate, his breaths quickening as he watched. Renjun, still sprawled on the floor, was too spent to join in, but his eyes watched as your chest bounced with each thrust.

Jaemin pets your hair as he looks down at you, stealing your attention away from Jeno again. “Look how well our pretty girl takes it.” He coos.

Jeno brows furrowed in frustration once he realizes you had taken your eyes off of him again. His hips grew rougher, his thrusts harder, until the springs of the couch groaned in protest. His hand moved to your clit, fingers pinching it meanly before rubbing soothing circles. Your eyes were on him again and he was going to keep it that way. He leans down, crashes his lips to yours and swallows your moans, keeping them all to himself.

The phone slipped from your grasp but you didn’t care. You couldn’t think about anything except the orgasm building in your lower belly. Jeno’s rhythm was unrelenting, each movement driving you closer to insanity. A particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot just right sends you over and you shattered.

Your thighs trembled as you came, your mouth wide open in a silent scream. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Jeno didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, forcing both your thighs to your chest as he chased his own release. His breaths were ragged, his muscles taut as he pushed himself over the edge. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you.

“7 Minutes 43 seconds” Jaemin calls out showing everyone the time posted. Somewhere in all the chaos he found Renjun's phone.

Jeno didn’t pull out immediately, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath. “Good girl,” he murmured loud enough for only you to hear.

Jeno finally pulled out with a grumble, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Someone didn’t stop the clock in time,” he muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jaemin, who only shrugged. You were too spent to sit up, laying still on the couch as your chest rose and fell with your labored breaths. Jaemin leaned down, stroking your cheek gently. “Good?” he asked, voice tender as he checked in on you.

You nodded weakly, your mind hazy and body still buzzing. Haechan took Jeno’s place and rolled the dice.

MOUTH

The others laughed at his luck but he only smiled wickedly. A shiver ran down your spine. They didn’t know the things Haechan could do with his mouth when he wasn’t running it.

Jaemin handed you back the timer and Haechan laid down between your legs on the couch, his face inches away from your used cunt. He blew air on your core teasingly causing your breath to hitch, you were still so sensitive. Haechan chuckles darkly, eyes boring into yours. “You ready baby?”

“Yes,” you whispered, starting the timer.

Haechan isn’t shy and he's not afraid of being a messy eater. Combine that with his competitive nature and you're in for it. He shoved his tongue deep inside you, curling it upward and tasting you with a satisfied hum. He didn’t care that he was eating his roommate’s cum from your pussy—if anything, it seemed to spur him on. He slurped away at the mix of your fluids like a whore. He was so nasty, so unapologetically filthy, and it was turning you on more than you cared to admit. You were already close and you couldn’t help the way you rocked your hips shamelessly against his face, clit bumping up against his nose deliciously. It was becoming too much and your thighs clamp down instinctively, trying to escape the growing overstimulation.

His arms pryed your thighs apart and pinned you down quickly. “None of that.” he tsked.

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep inside you as he sucked harshly against your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, scissoring you open with his fingers. The look in his eye was deadly. You couldn’t stop your hand from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode his fingers. Your hips trembled, your body tensing up as he devoured you.

“Fuck, Haechan, don’t stop—I’m so close,” you begged, your voice breaking.

His lips found your clit again, humming against it before pulling off with a loud pop. His fingers rubbed at your clit messily, gliding back and forward easily through your slick. His tongue dived back in to lick you clean. It was all that you needed. You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t stop, rubbing your clit through your orgasm as you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop until your hips thrashed wildly, your moans filling the room.

“Time,” he reminded you and you scrambled to cut the timer.

3 minutes 35 seconds

You dropped the phone with a huff, your body sinking into the cushions as you tried to catch your breath. Haechan sat up with a triumphant smile, face soaked and glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You waited for him to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“I’m not done. Everyone else got to have their fun with you, baby. It’s my turn,” he said, voice dangerous.

He had been rock hard for a while and he slipped into you, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. His cock stretched you, filling you completely, and you gasped at the sensation. He buried his face into your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples as he fucked you. His hips moved erratically, selfishly, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Haechan,” you gasped his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buried himself into you again and again. He was so deep, so relentless, and you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He pulled out suddenly, stroking himself over your stomach. He had already been close due to him humping the cushions earlier. He wanted to make a mess of you. His cum splattered across your chest and stomach, hot and thick, and he groaned as he finished, his eyes locked on yours. It felt so disrespectful and degrading to do it but he loved it. You were his own little cum dumpster.

Haechan gave you a parting kiss when he finally moved off the couch. Before you could catch your breath Mark suddenly took his spot between your legs. You looked up at him in confusion, your mind still hazy from the intensity of Haechan’s attention.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I need you,” he moaned, sinking into you without hesitation.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you, his hips slamming into your brutally. He regretted going first so badly, it was torture watching everyone else have their way with you. He was so fucking horny, he felt like he was going to die. He lifted your hips up off the couch and the new position hit deep. Your toes curled from the pleasure and you screamed. He knew you were probably still sensitive from Haechan, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t slow down, not when you felt this good.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice strained as he drove into you harder, deeper. Your hands pushed at his waist, it was too good. He shook his head, his grip tightening as he forced you to meet his thrusts. “Be my good girl. Come on,” he grunted, his breathing ragged.

You shook your head, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. He bit his lip, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. He dropped you back down on the couch like a rag doll, your body limp and spent.

Jaemin tapped your cheek, bringing your hazy vision back into focus. “Our princess is doing such a good job,” he praised you, his voice soft and sweet. “I’m so proud of you.”

You gave him a dopey smile, your mind foggy and body completely wrecked. You were out of it—fucked stupid by this point.

“Can our big girl take one more for me?” he asked, his touch caressing your shoulder soothingly.

You pouted, your bottom lip trembling. You were so tired, but you didn’t want to let him down.

“Come on, princess. You can take one more. I know you can,” he coaxed, his voice gentle but firm.

You gave him a nod, and he smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed.

He sat you up, taking the die that Haechan handed him and rolling…

FREE

Maybe the dice really was rigged

Jaemin looks over at you with a questioning gaze. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks again.

"Yes, sir," you reply, already slipping into your role.

He gives you a wicked grin. "In that case, stand up for me, pretty girl," he says, helping you to your feet.

You stand on shaky legs, and he grabs Renjun’s phone, still pulled up on the timer. "Don't drop it this time, princess," he warns, handing you the device, his eyes glinting with amusement.

He bends down, his hands cupping the back of your knees, signaling for you to jump. He lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The others look at the both of you curiously as Jaemin walks you over to the nearest wall and pins you up against it. He shoves his sweats and briefs down his thighs before lining himself up at your entrance.

“Start the time,” he said and once he hears the chime of the phone indicating that the time has started he slams into you.

You’re suspended in mid air pinned up against the wall, he uses you like you were nothing more than a sex doll. You were unable to move, your mouth made an o shape when you moaned and you stayed spread wide open for him. Maybe you were a sex doll.

You can feel the tears that stream down your face in overstimulation as he pounds into you. His lips steal your breath as he kisses you and his arms bulge as he keeps you lifted and steady for him.

"Touch yourself, princess," he instructs you, his voice muffled against your lips. Your free hand comes up, and shakily starts circling your clit. You moan, throwing your head back against the wall and your fingers falter, causing Jaemin to scold you, "Nuh-uh, baby, stay with me."

His hips don't slow, and he's fucking you so hard that the picture frames on the wall start to shake and threaten to fall. Jaemin's hips pick up an impossible pace, and you can feel yourself growing close to the edge. Your fingers play with yourself faster, trying to reach the climax.

“Thats right baby, almost there i can feel it” he moans “dirty pussy gripping me so fucking tight”

You moan at his words, and cum against him, pleasure washing over you. You stop the timer immediately, finally allowed to drop it from your grasp. You hear it clatter against the floor, followed by curses from Renjun. You slump against the wall behind you, and Jaemin helps you to your feet.

Jaemin picks you up and carries you back to the couch, and you all but welcome the soft cushions that support your body. You are dead tired. Renjun collects his forgotten phone and looks at the time stamped on the screen before showing it to the others. "4 minutes 19 seconds," he announces.

As you catch your breath, Haechan lets out a joyful whoop, while Jeno and Mark groan in response. Jaemin tends to you on the couch, checking in on you with a concerned expression. Mark gets up, announcing that he's going to run a bath for you, and the others begin to dress themselves or adjust their clothing. Jaemin helps you to the bathroom, where he and Mark carefully help you wash up, the warmth of the water soothing your tired muscles. The sounds of the others cleaning the living room filter through the closed door.

Later, you lay in Mark's bed, feeling exhausted but content. The others shuffle into the room, Renjun speaks first, "We're going to head back now, if that's okay. Do you need anything?" You shake your head sleepily and get cozy under the sheets.

“Rest up, ok?” Jaemin leans down to kiss your forehead before following Jeno and Renjun out of the room after they say their own goodbyes. Haechan lingers, a mischievous glint in his eye, and says to Mark, "Enjoy your time with her while you can, because starting tomorrow, she's all mine." He winks before leaving the room.

Mark jokingly rolls his eyes and gets up to lock the front door behind the others. When he returns to the room, he crawls under the sheets next to you and pulls you tight against his chest.

"Mark, I'm sorry," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I should have told you that I had something going on with the others."

Mark shrugs, his expression relaxed. "I was a little shocked when they told me, honestly. You just look so… innocent." He chuckles.

"Do you see me differently now?" you ask, a frown growing on your face.

Mark kisses your frown away, his lips gentle. "You're still my baby girl. I don't care what you do, nothing will ever change that."

He showers your face with kisses, making you giggle, and you playfully push him away. Then, you climb on top of him, straddling his hips.

"You're not tired?" he asks in amusement. You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. "I've got pretty good stamina," you say, leaning down to kiss him. "Plus, it’s like Haechan said, tomorrow I'm his, but tonight…" You trail off, your lips brushing against Mark's skin as you snake down his body.

Mark's eyes darken, and he whispered, "You're mine."

A/N: THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe ill do the HC spin off maybe i wont, you'll just have to see. Lets see how well this does and ill think about it.

a/n: all choices during the dice game were randomly selected except haechan, he originally got thigh but mouth was literally made for him so I changed it

[cutehoons02]

Dark Seduction

*pairing: boxer spiderman-venom Jay x radio university Girl

*trope: roomates to enemies to lovers

*synopsis: What would happen if your roommate who doesn't like you told you that you're too curious and nosy about always talking about this vigilante with the nickname of Black Spiderman-Venom on university radio? Doing 2+2 with all the clues that Jay left you understood that he was the vigilante of the city but you discovered him in an unexpected way with the personality of Jay but also the mysterious and sneaky Venom

*tags: A lot of tension, they love to tease each other, Jay is the eggermente arrogant at the beginning of the story, possessing, protecting, body shaping in Spiderman-Venon, tentacles, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) masturbation (f.receives) kisses, sucking, touching, licking, curiosity, white lies.

6.1k (🕷��) (English is not my native language)

The University radio was your kingdom. From eight o'clock in the morning, your voice filled campus frequencies, informing and entertaining sleepless students with your brilliant spirit and sharp tongue.

"Good morning to all listeners! Here is your favorite student radio to speak to you, the voice of the University of Seoul, and today we talk about him... the mysterious vigilante who is making the news crazy. He wears a black suit, moves in the shadows, and helps people but... let’s face it, he's not exactly the classic hero. Some say that he is a savior, like all the people he is saving. Like the little girl who was saved while a deranged man was kidnapping her and others that he is a monster. What do you think?" said pausing and announcing the new comeback of a K-pop band.

Across the glass, in the small waiting room of the radio, Jake and Sunghoon sat on a crumpled couch, listening to you with funny smiles. They both had coffee in their hands and backpacks lying next to them, waiting for the lessons to start later.

'Again with this story?' Sunghoon snorted, stretching. 'Maybe it’s just a mockingman who dresses up to avoid getting caught.'

-Or maybe it’s a real anti-hero! - Jake said, giving you a fun look. -Like... Batman but even darker.-

You smiled, swiping your finger on the keyboard as you read the live comments. "I think it’s hiding something big. What if it was someone we know or who goes to the same university as us?" you asked with a flash of curiosity in your eyes.

Jake and Sunghoon exchanged a quick, understated glance. They looked like they knew more than they wanted to admit and certainly did not want to be discovered by anyone that they were hiding a secret even bigger than themselves.

-Hey, stop making a thousand theories of the plot and then who knows, it could be anyone...- said Jake with a fake innocent air to misdirect the conversation

'Yep, it could be anyone,' added Sunghoon, shrugging.

"But I would pay gold to see it live, I would like too much to see those tentacles and also how he shoots the webs from his hands," you said as you saw the two guys not looking at your face anymore.

"You two are too suspicious. Don’t you know him? Or that you saw him in action? You stepped forward, narrowing your eyes. But before they could answer, the broadcast timer told them that the next song had to start. "And now, folks, I leave you with a piece that has shaped generations as well as Thriller by Michael Jackson. Stay with us!"

You press the button to start the song, then you shoot your fingers towards your roommates. "Okay, now you’re talking. What are you hiding? Have you ever seen him live?"

Jake chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. -Come on, don’t be a detective. Simply, maybe this guy has his reasons for doing what he does and I think that if you saw him live on one side you would be happy because it would save your life but on the other hand according to me you would be afraid if you found him in front of you with all his tentacles and with his Hands that shoot webs- and he laughed at Spiderman’s gesture

You looked at them suspiciously but at the same time you laughed to see Jake so happy, you were ready to press them again, but just then the door of the radio studio opened with a squeak.

Jay made his entrance as if he were the protagonist of a movie, with ripped jeans, and black leather jacket, the usual guitar strap, and the lethal look that could make you shiver and infuriate at the same time.

«Interesting conversation yours,» said Jay with a low voice and loaded with sarcasm, crossing his arms.

«I hope I have not interrupted anything important»

"Oh, nothing," you replied, approaching him with defiance. "Just speculations about our mysterious vigilante friend. Who knows, maybe you know him too. Have you seen how everyone is talking about it?"

Jay tilted his head to the side with an almost amused smile. «I? I have no time for this bullshit, I’m too busy with music and that vigilante should be more careful because every time I hear the news, the police are getting closer to finding his identity» And with that phrase he took your coffee and drank it all and went away throwing you a glance that made you shiver.

That night, outside of Seoul, the storm was raging. You were alone in the house: Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay had all.

Jake was definitely at the university football training, Sunghoon would have been around the city shooting as a model and well Jay would have been in his music office composing music for some record company. The shared apartment with those 3 guys was always full of screaming, laughing and people but that night you were at home alone and you sincerely missed spending time with them; It was for weeks that in the evening they came back late or only one of them returned and you understood that life as a student and worker was different from that of the high school but sometimes you just wanted to spend time with them like in the old days.

You sat on the couch with your phone in hand, carelessly scrolling through Twitter until a trending video caught your attention. A boy along with the vigilante or "Black Spider-Venom" so named by everyone on social media was wearing his black suit and he was saving people in a bank from robbers: he was blocking a car on the way, He stopped a criminal with dark tentacles and protected a woman with a black barrier of spider webs.

Stay glued to the screen for almost an hour, reading comments and police statements.

The police had been saying for days that the superhero or "monster" was between 20 and 25 because they found a backpack with university books but the fatalities were books used in all universities of the state and a snack boy who did sports. So you thought that this guy had two personalities: one was the student who could be anyone and the other a superhero who tried in every way to protect people but also had a dark side as well as the emphasis from Venom and Spiderman.

A deafening thunder shook the house, and you clenched your phone. Then you heard the front door open.

Jay was there, soaking wet, his hair stuck to his forehead, his face marked by fine scratches. You knew that Jay was a boxing athlete and that he trained meticulously but it was strange to see him with scratches and split lips, you tried to talk to him but he closed the door in the face of the bath and sighed and waited anxiously. When he came out, he was wearing a jumpsuit, an old 80’s band shirt that he loved so much and his hair was still wet. He made to go to his room, but you blocked the way.

Jay looked at you with a funny grin. «Problems?»

"What’s the matter?" you asked, crossing your arms, his face was full of small scratches, his lip slightly split and covered with blood and also his hands were bruised

He shrugged his shoulders. «I slipped while boxing, you know it’s not a princess sport and sooner or later you can get hurt and I took a good punch while I was training because I wasn’t careful.» said in a too-serious tone.

You sighed, holding your arms. "I don’t believe you, I know how boxing works, and ok the lip can also stand but those scratches?"

Jay laughed softly, coming one step closer. He was towering over you, the height difference was embarrassing. It was enough of a gesture to grab and push you against the wall.

Why did you always have to stick your nose everywhere? Thought Jay, irritated. He could not stand your insistence, your way of talking to him as if you could decipher every thought.

But beneath his irritation was something else. Something darker. Venom whispered inside him, hungry.

It is small... fragile. We could break it or make it our own.

Jay chased away those thoughts with a deep breath, but the voice inside him laughed. He made to open the door of his room, but you grabbed his wrist and dragged him into your room. "Sit down. I will take care of you."

He nodded, looking at you with a shadow of amusement. But inside him, Venom was agitating. How nice it would be to see her below us, to hear her tremble, fill her until she can’t think of anything but us...

Jay clenched his jaw. Fucking symbiote...he thought as he saw you go back to your room with the first aid kit you used to disinfect the beatings that Jake was getting, as well as your cousin at soccer or perhaps in some other way but did not deny that the idea was damn inviting to have you all for himself as he so desired.

You took the first-aid kit and sat next to Jay. He looked at you with his usual funny grin, the air of not taking anything seriously, but there was something strange in his eyes. Something darker. Deeper.

You grabbed his hands to disinfect them and only then did you notice how big they were compared to yours. Your little fingers almost seemed to get lost against his venous hands, with corns here and there for the hours spent playing guitar.

"Wow, you have huge hands," you murmured distressingly, focused on passing the cotton ball over the bruises.

Jay laughed softly, tilting his head. «And you are really small.»

You looked up at him, crossing his dark eyes staring at you with something undefined.

He was teasing you, as usual, but this time there was a different intensity in his words. He seemed... amused, yes, but also curious.

Jay wondered how it was possible that someone like you, so noisy, cheeky, stubborn, could be so delicate in gestures. He was annoyed by how your presence penetrated his skin, like a melody that could not get out of his head. Yet, there was something about you that irritated and attracted him at the same time. Ever since he first met you in the park when you fell off the slide, With the knee peeled and tears running down your face had thought about how dramatic you could be but to the same inside he had promised that he would never want to see you cry again because he would make sure to protect you.

Venom, on the other hand, had completely different thoughts. He was intrigued by you, by your apparent innocence, by your small body that moved with lightness beside him. Jay’s dark side only wanted one thing: branding you, making you his. He imagined you under him, bent to his will, your skin marked by his bites. And the more he tried to ignore it, the more that desire became overwhelming.

You rubbed the scratches gently on your face with disinfectant. Jay stood still, letting you do it, but your gaze lingered for a moment on the mark on his neck, that little dark spot in the shape of a heart or perhaps a butterfly. You bit your lip without realizing it, the indecent thought that crossed your mind was instantaneous and unstoppable. How good would it have been to kiss her? Lick her? Suck her?

You got yourself right back, driving those thoughts away. You shouldn’t have them. Not on him.

You have known him for more than 10 years and you have always found him annoying but it was a while ago that you found him extremely attractive and this thing made you go crazy because he wasn’t even your type with his character "I know everything."

Just then you passed the cotton swab over his split lip and Jay barely moaned, a low, involuntary sound that made you shudder. His breath became heavier, and you noticed him moving, escaping your touch as if he didn’t want to let you do it. It was frustrating.

"Stop moving," you snapped with an exasperated sigh. "Don’t be a baby," you warned him, but you knew he was doing it on purpose.

Jay smiled dangerously. «Don’t be a caring mom. I didn’t know you liked taking care of me.»

"I don’t like it, but if you don’t stand still I can’t finish."

Without thinking about it you put yourself on his legs, only to keep him still and be able to finish the job. But as soon as you did, you knew you’d made a mistake.

Jay curled under you for a moment, before relaxing and bowing his head with a grin that made you tremble.

«Oh... baby, that was a big mistake on your part,» he murmured in a low and husky voice, his hands slid naturally over your thighs, just clutching them but you felt a lot of chills go through your body because of his touch.

His rational side knew that he had to stop, that it was just a game of provocation between you. But Venom... Venom didn’t want to stop at all. He wanted to taste you, feel your body give in under his grip, and hear every sound you could make for him.

«Tell me, what do you think of that guy?» asked Jay, with a mischievous grin as he heard you disinfect him carefully

You bit your lip. "It’s... intriguing. After all, it is for everyone, isn’t it?" you said looking at his expression.

Jay nodded slowly. «Yeah. Maybe a little too much.»

You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, when something spectacular happens it always ends up on social media. That’s normal."

Jay bowed his head, his piercing gaze. «And you’re happy about it, aren’t you? You can’t wait for something exciting to happen to snoop around and talk about it on the radio so are you happy to have new material for your show?»

You smiled. "Sure. I love my work, both on radio and social media."

Jay came a little closer, his fingers slid down your back in a barely perceptible touch. «You’re too curious,» he murmured. «You also have the habit of asking too many questions.»

"Informed," you corrected.

«Curious,» he repeated, bowing his head with a clever smile

You looked him straight in the eye. "What questions?"

He chuckled. «I see and hear the questions you say you would ask if you found him in person: Who is he? Where does he come from? Why does he do it? What is it like to live two lives? What is it like to have the human part but also the monster part inside? You would like to find out, right?»

You raised your chin in defiance "Maybe yes, you know I was always too curious when we were little"

Jay shook his head, his eyes became darker. «You know, girls who are too curious have a bad end»

You didn’t look down. "I’m not afraid."

Jay was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. «You should.»

You came even closer, challenging him. "I’m afraid of murderers, rapists... not a boy who transforms to save people."

Something changed in him. His breath became heavier, his eyes shone with a dangerous light. Maybe it wasn’t just Jay at that moment Maybe it was something else.

A soft growl made its way through his lips, a low, almost animalistic sound. Venom was emerging. He wanted to test you, to see if you really wouldn’t be afraid when you were in front of him. And Jay couldn’t stop touching you, tightening his grip on your thighs, imagining what it would be like if he gave in to his instincts.

It was at that moment that something changed in Jay. His gaze became darker, more intense. Without giving you time to understand, Jay grabbed your face in his hands and smashed his lips on yours. The kiss was sudden, hungry, almost brutal. There was not only Jay at that moment. There was also something more dark, something more dangerous.

His hands clenched around your hips, holding you glued to him, while his tongue invaded your mouth with a security that made your head turn. You couldn’t even think. All you could do was hold on to him, arms around his shoulders, while your body instinctively reacted to contact.

You felt his fingers sink slightly into your skin, exploring every curve with a possession that made you shiver. Every touch sent sparks down your back, and before you knew it, your body was starting to respond to his.

"Jay..." moaning against his lips when you felt something hard press under you.

Jay smiled at your mouth, but there was something more. That smile wasn’t just his. It was also Venom’s.

His lips fell down your neck, initially leaving gentle, almost sweet kisses. But then the kisses became more insistent, more possessive. You felt him sucking, biting your skin slightly, marking you, leaving marks. Signs that no one else could have erased and you still didn’t know what you were getting into.

Jay’s lips were hot, and hungry, moving on yours with disarming security. His taste was intense, the breath barely altered as his hands clenched more tightly on your thighs, holding you firmly against him. Every touch of it seemed to leave a mark on your skin, an invisible mark that made you shiver and want even more.

He detached himself from you only for a moment, his dark eyes full of something indecipherable, a mix between the Jay you knew and another presence that seemed more and more domineering.

«Tell me...» he murmured, his voice was husky, charged with something that made you tremble and light at the same time. «Would you like to interview Venom?»

You looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, the chest rising and falling faster. "Yes," you answered without hesitation, with the desire to dig into that mystery that attracted you like a magnet. "I would ask him a lot of questions."

Jay smiled, but there was something dark behind that grin, a shadow that fascinated and frightened you at the same time. A hand slid under your shirt, fingers touching the bare skin of your side with an exasperating slowness. You shivered and he noticed it, lowering himself slightly to whisper in your ear.

«Venom has never been interviewed by anyone...» he paused, letting his warm breath caress your skin. «And if he did, he would want something in return.»

You looked into his eyes, your heart beating hard in your chest. "How do you know?" you asked, even if deep down you already sensed the answer.

Jay tilted his head to the side, his smile became sweeter, but no less predatory. "Maybe because Venom is much closer to you than you think.»

And as he said it, the change came before your eyes.

The black of the suit seemed to emerge directly from his skin, wrapping it in a slimy and eerie embrace, making it look bigger, more imposing. The symbol of Spider-Man shone on his chest, his body now a perfect balance between muscles and the dark power of Venom. But his face, which was still uncovered, as if he wanted you to see the man behind the monster.

Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt something cold and sinuous slip under your shirt.

A black tentacle touched your bare skin, caressing you with an exasperating slowness, making you shiver.

Jay- or maybe Venom- looked at you with bright eyes, his voice now more guttural, deeper.

«I want you all to myself,» he murmured, and her tone was an obscure promise. «And not only today.» His hands came back on you, stronger, safer.

«You may ask me any question,» he added, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips. «To Venom... or Jay.»

Your hands trembled as they slid over the black suit, feeling the strange but fascinating texture of the living material that enveloped it. It was warm under the fingers, pulsating as if it had a life of its own. When your fingers touched his biceps, the consistency changed, revealing the hard and sculpted flesh of his muscles.

Without thinking too much, you started sliding the suit off, slowly discovering her body. And fuck... it was beautiful. Perfect in an almost surreal way, with the skin stretched on defined muscles, some scratches here and there, and those damned tentacles that seemed to move with a will of their own. But for some reason, you didn’t feel scared. Maybe you should have, but the idea didn’t even occur to you.

Jay looked at you with a mixture of surprise and something else, something darker. «You... aren’t afraid?»

His rational part was confused, but Venom... Venom was damn smug. You could feel it in the air, in the tension between you. Her already overblown ego seemed to grow even more when she saw you so close, so curious instead of terrified.

You leaned over him, letting your lips touch his skin. Your warm breath tickled his neck as you began to kiss the heart-shaped birthmark perhaps a butterfly- that he had there. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaped from his lips, but when he opened them again there was something more dangerous in that look.

«You’re getting into trouble, you know?» he murmured in a husky voice.

I murmured in a hoarse voice. «Because when I fill you... it will not be just me.»

Those words made you shiver, but you did not stop. You continued to kiss his skin softly, savoring the warmth of his body. You looked up at him, your eyes shining with curiosity.

"Who did you save today?"

Jay barely smiled, a crooked smile, almost amused by your attempt to distract him. «A bank. There was a robbery.»

Annuded, without stopping to leave him little kisses on the tense muscles. He was seriously the vigilante, you had had him in front of your eyes for a long time and your doubts had come to light some time ago but you finally knew the truth. When your lips touched a scratch, he made a slight movement, almost imperceptible.

"Then you did a good job," you whispered, sliding your fingers over another mark on her skin.

Jay bowed his head, looking at you. «Do you want me to make the tentacles disappear?»

For a moment you considered the idea, and then you looked up at him with a curious smirk. "Venom would be happy if you let go of your tentacles?"

His expression changed. Jay puffed, but his eyes darkened slightly as a tentacle slowly brushed your back under your shirt. «Yes,» he admitted. "It would be.»

He paused, then added in a lower tone: «It’s hard to live with two personalities. Venom only comes out when I transform... Otherwise, I’m just the usual Jay.»

You looked at him, tilting your head slightly. "So, in a way, you are two different people?"

Jay stared at you, then smiled. «You’re not stupid at all, are you?»

You were winning. You felt it. You were asking questions, asking questions, taking him exactly where you wanted. But what you didn’t expect was that, at some point, Venom would notice. And it wouldn’t have worked out for him.

Your lips kept coming down her body, tracing a line of kisses on her warm, scratched skin. When you reached his navel, you heard Jay moaning softly your name, his irregular breath against your neck.

«You’re playing with fire, you know?» he murmured, his voice roaring, crossed by a thread of fun and something darker.

But before you could answer, a deep growl vibrated in the room.

"You’re too slow, Jay," Venom hissed into the boy’s mind. "This prey is ours. We must claim it."

Jay clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control. But he knew it was impossible with you. With you, Venom had too much desire to emerge.

Then, without warning, he pushed you gently backward, making you lie down under him. His dark eyes were burning reflections of something more primordial. More dangerous. You instinctively caressed his hair, your fingers intertwining between the dark locks. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to taste your touch but it was only a moment.

When he opened them again, a grin cut off his lips.

«Do you realize what you’re doing?» he whispered, lowering her head to the edge of your ear. «Do you know how tempting you are? Or maybe... are you doing it on purpose?»

Its length rubbed against thy center, and thy breath broke.

Venom chuckled in Jay’s mind. "Look how she reacts. So hot. So ready. She’s ours. I want to hear her pleading."

Jay swallowed, fighting the way Venom was trying to overwhelm him. But he was on the edge of the abyss too.

«I can’t wait to fill you up,» he said in a loud, low, hypnotic tone. «Both me and him.»

His hands slipped on your hips, holding you tight as he lifted you slightly towards himself. His fingertips drew fire lines on your naked skin.

He took off your shirt slowly, with a deliberate slowness that made you shudder. Then he looked down at you, his eyes shining with desire.

«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, his lips resting on your hard buds, his tongue caressing them, his teeth teasing them with sweet cruelty. «Tell me, how will you take all of me?»

You rolled your back, "Jay" a moan escaped from your lips and inside him, Jay was struggling. A part of him wanted to take you with an almost painful sweetness, like a cat that enjoys teasing his prey before giving it the final blow but Venom... did not want to play. Venom wanted to eat you and you didn’t know what you were into.

His lips moved along your skin, descending ever lower, leaving a trail of warm and possessive kisses. Jay’s breath deepened as it reached your breasts, his tongue drawing circles around your tight buds before wrapping them completely.

You moan his name, your head slightly bent backward, your senses now completely overwhelmed by him.

Jay looked up at you with a satisfied grin, his eyes shining with something darker, deeper.

«Call me as you like,» he whispered, his voice stinging and dangerous. «Jay... or Venom.»

His tone made you shudder, but you nodded, hands still clinging to his hair. " Yes..." you murmured, your breath broken by excitement.

Jay smiled at your skin before coming down again, his hands caressing you with exasperating slowness. He took off your pajamas without haste, enjoying every second that your body revealed itself to him.

Then he looked down at your exposed center and a lascivious whisper slipped from his lips.

«You are already so soaked...» he muttered, the fingers that touched your intimacy with a light but devastating touch. «It is so sensitive... only for me.»

He looked at you carefully, tilting his head slightly.

«Tell me...» whispered, the fingers that kept exploring you without ever giving you enough. «Have you ever thought of me in this way?»

His question hit you in the chest. Your breath stopped, and for a moment there was only silence between you. Then, with a slight movement of the head, you nodded no.

But you couldn’t stand his gaze.

Inside him, Venom hissed amused. Liar.

Jay laughed softly, but his eyes were dark, full of something that made you tremble. «You are a terrible liar,» he said with a smirk. «I see how you look at me.»

And without giving you time to answer, he slipped a finger inside you.

A moan immediately escaped from your lips. "Venom..."

Jay smiled. Or was it Venom?

«Good girl,» he whispered against your skin, while his finger moved slowly inside you, exploring you, testing every reaction.

You shudder, the heart pounding in your chest. " Perhaps... in the past..." your voice was trembling, full of desire, "I... I fantasized about you..."

Jay laughed, satisfied, while inside of him Venom was boiling with pleasure.

«Oh, honey,» whispered Jay, his mouth back to bite your neck, leaving red marks on your skin. «You belong to me now.»

Venom became more brazen, his desire almost tangible. You are ours.

Jay’s breath was erratic, his body tense as he watched you with those deep dark eyes. Venom, however, was scrambling to take control. You felt his presence, a hungry shadow growing in him, ready to claim you.

"Look how fragile she is... so small in our hands," the voice of Venom resounded in the room, low and guttural. "It’s ours. Nobody else can have it, nobody else can touch it."

Jay clenched his jaw, fighting with the creature inside him. "Venom, calm down."

"No," hissed the symbiote. "Can’t you see what he calls it? He wants us both. He wants to feel us inside him. Why should we wait?"

Wet and sloppy sounds fill your ears and Jay’s as he pumps another finger into you, Jay feels how well you took it and how excited your pussy was as he pumped and curls his fingers up and down, Your legs are wriggling as you hear Jay’s tongue slowly pinch and suck on your swollen clitoris for the stimulation you’re receiving, Contrast the muscle with a moan so pronounced that Jay could come all on himself because it was for whole months that he dreamed of hearing your moans, Instead Venom from the first day you met you had thought about how beautiful you were and how much he would want to make you feel good but at the same time take you and make you his and fill you.

"mmhm! It’s too much, I need to come" Your eyes spill into the skull as you feel your body be pervaded by shivers and feel your excitement slowly increase as you come between Jay’s fingers. Jay took his fingers full of white cum into his tongue and tasted you.

«delicious,» he said to you with a rock voice and a shiver ran across your back as Jay touched your face with his fingers, his warm fingertips on your skin. «Are you all right?» His voice was sweet and worried, but there was something deeper in his eyes. Desire.

You looked at it and nodded slowly. "I want both."

It was all that Venom needed to hear. A low growl vibrated in Jay’s chest as the symbiote took over, his hands clenching tighter on your hips. " You hear that, Jay? She wants it. She wants to be ours."

Your trembling fingers slid along the elastic of his suit, slowly lowering it down with his boxers. Your breath stopped for a moment when you saw it in its entirety.

"Fuck... will it fit me completely?" whispering, biting your lip as you watched.

Jay laughed softly, shaking his head. «Only you could make fun of me at a time like this.»

You curled your lips, letting your fingers slide along its length before gently squeezing it and starting to pump it with slow movements, knowing exactly how to make it go crazy. You felt his breath getting heavier as the pre-sperm liquid started to wet the tip.

"I want you..." you said in a low, sensual voice, moving closer to his ear. "But I want both the Jay and Venom parts."

Jay held his head for a moment. «Are you sure?»

You bit your lip, brushing its chest with your nails. "I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Did you think I would let someone else touch me like that?"

Venom made himself feel inside him, a shiver shook Jay as his deep voice resounded in his head. It’s perfect. Cheeky, provocative. She wants to make it ours. he wants to fill it and brand it.

Jay swallowed hard as he felt his darker side take over. With the tip of his member, he began to touch your entry, slowly teasing you, driving you crazy.

"Jay..." moans, the need in your voice was clear.

«Tell me exactly what you want,» he said with a satisfied smile.

You bent slightly, trying to push against him, but his hands stopped you, holding you still.

"Asshole," you hissed, eyes burning with desire. "Move."

A guttural growl escaped from Jay’s lips, or rather of Venom. «You are so impatient... and so excited for us.»

Then, without further ado, it pushed itself inside you, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch as your body adapted to its size.

He withheld a groan, seeing you shudder beneath him, your body wrapped around his.

"Fuck, you’re perfect...» murmured Jay, caressing your face softly. "I want you to like it.»

"Move," you whisper, the voice full of need.

It was at this moment that Venom took control. His hands seized your hips with force, his movements became deeper, faster, and more brutal.

«You hear him» he growled, his voice lower, darker. «Are you enjoying being filled like this?»

The pleasure overtook you, you clung to his shoulders, your nails sinking into his skin.

"Yes, fuck!" you panicked, your body responding to every push. You felt something fresh and sinuous enveloping your belly, sliding along your body with an unnatural precision. A glossy black tentacle crept towards your center, pressing firmly on your clitoris. A shiver ran down your back, making you shudder.

"Oh God..." groans, squeezing Jay even harder.

«Do you like it, baby?» Venom’s voice was deeper, darker. Jay was still there, but you could hear him leaving more and more room for the creature. The tentacle wrapped around your body, stroking you in places you didn’t even think were so sensitive. The pressure on you increased, each pushes more intense, deeper until you lost your breath.

«Look how well you treat us... You were born to be ours.» Venom’s voice was a hoarse whisper against your skin, a sinful murmur that made you shiver.

Jay stuck his fingers in your hips, his blows getting stronger and faster. The pleasure accumulated in your belly, each push sent waves of heat into your body, while the tentacle kept on tickling you without respite.

«Tell me you’re coming for us.» Jay clenched his jaw, holding back with difficulty.

"S-yes... I’m coming..." you panicked, your body shaking.

And when the pleasure finally exploded inside you, Venom emitted a guttural sound of approval.

«Beautiful...» whispered Jay. You felt the heat spread within you, as the tentacle slowly retreated, leaving behind a trail of electric chills.

Jay panted as Venom pushed deeper, feeling your orgasm grip him perfectly. With an animalistic growl, Jay let go of every brake, pushing himself inside you one last time before filling you.

It remained inside you for a few seconds, the heavy breath, the body still tense from pleasure.

«You are beautiful with my seed inside you,» he whispered against your neck, slowly licking your skin.

You still felt trembling, exhausted, and completely possessed by them.

«Now you are ours,» added Venom with a satisfied grin.

Jay hugged you and felt that the "human" Jay you knew was back. Both of you had a long breath, the bodies still intertwined, and you gently brushed the bruises that began to form on her skin. He sank his head into the hollow of your neck, tickling you with a warm breath, and with a thread of voice asked you:

«Did you like it?»

He seemed almost embarrassed by the question, which made you smile. You stroked him gently and with a slight smile, you replied:

"Jay, it was crazy. I was so stupid not to know that you were the guy I talked about every day..."

He stood up slowly, pulling a strand of hair from your face and touching your cheek with his fingertips. His gaze was full of sweetness but also a veil of apprehension.

«You won’t tell anyone, will you?» he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

You smiled and, without a word, gave him your little finger. Jay burst out laughing but crossed his finger with yours, sealing that secret with a swearing oath.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked at him with curiosity.

"But... are there others like you?"

Jay just made a gesture with his boss, pointing to the little picture you had on your bedside table. In that photo were you, him, Jake, and Hoon. You felt the breath cut and brought a hand to your mouth, surprised.

"Wait... they too...?"

Jay nodded with a clever smirk. «You’ll find out for yourself. But not in spicy situations!»

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as a shiver of excitement ran down your spine. This story was becoming much more interesting than you ever imagined.

If you like the genre tell me if you want to discover also the other members with their powers:)

Taglist: @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwnii @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @immelissaaa @d4-b1 @firstclassjaylee @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @rikiscupid @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @m3wkledreamy @xylatox

The taglist is open!!!!

Comments and rebblog are appreciated

©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2025.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Coming Home to You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: it’s senior night a very big night for Paige indeed.. and you can’t miss it not when you’re each other’s home

For the past few weeks, keeping this secret had been absolute torture. Every time Paige texted me about how much she wished I could be at her senior night, my heart ached. I wanted to tell her, wanted to ease that longing in her voice, but I knew it would be worth it. Everyone was in on it—her teammates, the coaching staff, even her parents. The only person in the dark? Paige herself.

Now, as I sat on the plane with my niece squirming beside me, I felt the anticipation bubbling in my chest.

“Auntie, are we there yet?” my five-year-old niece, Aria, whined, her little legs swinging beneath her seat.

“Almost, baby,” I reassured her, smoothing down her curls. “Paige is gonna be so happy to see you.”

She grinned, showing off the gap where she had just lost a tooth last week. “She’s gonna be so surprised, right?”

I laughed, nodding. “Yeah, she has no idea we’re coming.”

Aria giggled, kicking her feet harder. She adored Paige, and the feeling was mutual. Anytime we FaceTimed, Paige always asked about her, sending little gifts and promising to teach her how to dribble properly one day.

As the plane began its descent, my stomach tightened. I had spent months away from Paige, only seeing her through a screen, listening to her talk about the season, about how it felt knowing this was her final year in a UConn jersey. She deserved to have her people there, and I needed to be there for her—just like she’d always been for me.

By the time we landed, the rush of excitement made my fingers tingle. Paige’s mom picked us up, greeting us with a warm hug before driving straight to campus. The plan was simple: hide in the tunnels until the seniors were honored, then walk out as they announced her name.

Aria bounced in her car seat, unable to contain herself. “I wanna run to Paige first! Can I? Can I?”

“Of course, baby,” I smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “She’s gonna love it.”

Game Night: Gampel Pavilion

The energy inside Gampel was electric. The crowd was buzzing, the students loud as ever, and the court gleamed under the bright lights. My heart pounded as I hid just behind the tunnel entrance, holding Aria’s hand tightly while the announcer began reading out names.

Each senior walked out to cheers, their families meeting them at center court. Paige was the last one to be called.

“And finally, our captain, our leader—number five, Paige Bueckers!”

The crowd erupted. My breath hitched as I peeked around the tunnel, watching Paige step forward, waving to the fans, her eyes already glassy with emotion. She thought her parents were the only ones waiting for her—but that was about to change.

“Now,” I whispered to Aria, squeezing her hand before letting go.

She took off like a shot.

“PAIGE!”

Paige barely had time to turn before Aria’s tiny body launched herself at Paige’s legs. Her arms instinctively wrapped around Aria, shock flashing across her face before realization dawned.

“What—? Aria?” Her voice cracked, looking down at the little girl clinging to her.

That’s when I stepped out.

The second Paige’s eyes met mine, everything around us seemed to fade. Her mouth parted in disbelief, her hands still frozen around Aria as if she thought she might be dreaming.

I smiled, my throat tightening. “Hey, baby.”

The moment shattered as she let go of Aria and practically ran to me, wrapping me up in the tightest hug imaginable.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice trembling against my ear.

“I’m here,” I murmured, holding onto her just as tightly. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face with both hands, her thumbs brushing over my cheeks as if she needed to make sure I was real. “You—you flew all the way here? When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I laughed, my own tears welling up. “Because I wanted to surprise you. Everyone knew except you.”

She shook her head, laughing through her disbelief. “You’re evil.”

“You love me, though,” I teased.

Her grin softened into something more tender. “Yeah,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to mine. “I really, really do.”

The crowd was still cheering, the moment stretching between us as if we were the only two people in the gym. Paige’s hands never left my face, and I could feel her heart racing just as fast as mine.

“This is the best surprise ever,” she whispered.

I bit my lip, glancing down at Aria, who was grinning up at us, completely unbothered by the fact that she had just helped execute the best senior night surprise in history. “I had some help.”

Paige laughed, ruffling Aria’s curls before scooping her up into her arms. “You little sneak,” she teased.

Aria giggled, hugging Paige’s neck. “I missed you, P!”

“I missed you too, munchkin.” Paige pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning back to me. “God, I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I wasn’t gonna let you finish this without me,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You deserve to have the people who love you here, Paige.”

Her expression softened, and she tugged me close again, this time pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” she whispered.

I smiled. “I think we both got lucky.”

She let out a soft laugh before glancing at the crowd, then back at me. “You’re staying for a while, right?”

I nodded. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Her grin turned into something mischievous. “That’s a dangerous offer, baby.”

“I’m serious.” I squeezed her hand. “I don’t wanna be apart anymore. I wanna be with you.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, and then—right there, in front of everyone—she leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft, sweet, and full of every unspoken word between us.

When she pulled away, her eyes were bright, full of something deeper than happiness. “Then stay,” she murmured. “Stay with me.”

I grinned. “You don’t even have to ask.”

She kissed me again, and this time, I knew—no matter where life took us, no matter what came next—I would always come home to her.

Paige’s POV

The adrenaline from senior night hadn’t worn off, but the moment we stepped inside my apartment, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. The last few hours had been a blur—cheers, speeches, hugs, and the overwhelming joy of seeing her again. Seeing them again.

Aria clung to me the entire time, refusing to let go even after we left the arena. Every time I tried to pass her off to her aunt, she just tightened her grip around my neck, mumbling, “I missed you too much.”

I wasn’t gonna fight her on it. I missed her too.

Now, after a well needed shower, the little girl was curled up against my chest, completely knocked out, her tiny fingers still clutching the front of my hoodie like she was scared I’d disappear again.

I glanced over at the love of my life—because that’s what she was, no doubt about it—as she set her bag down by the door, stretching out her arms with a soft groan.

“You look dead,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper.

She shot me a tired glare, but the small smile on her lips told me she wasn’t really mad. “I feel dead. That flight, the sneaking around, wrangling her—” she gestured at the sleeping child nestled in my arms. “I deserve a medal.”

I laughed, adjusting Aria slightly so she wouldn’t slip. “You deserve a lot more than that.”

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer, reaching out to brush a stray curl from Aria’s forehead. “She missed you like crazy, you know.”

“I missed her too,” I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Aria’s head.

Her eyes flickered to mine, something unreadable in them. “And me?”

I smirked, tilting my head slightly. “You? Who’s that?”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, okay. That’s how we’re playing this?”

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh, but the playful glare she shot me made it impossible. “Come here,” I said softly, and the teasing faded from her face.

She stepped between my legs, resting her hands on my shoulders as I pulled her closer with one arm, the other still supporting Aria.

“You know I missed you,” I murmured, letting my forehead rest against hers.

Her breath hitched, and I could feel the weight of the months apart in the way she exhaled, like she was finally letting herself breathe again.

“I hate being away from you,” she admitted quietly. “I hated every second of it.”

I tightened my hold on her waist, pressing my lips to her temple. “Then don’t be.”

Her fingers dug into the fabric of my hoodie. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is,” I murmured, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “You said you wanted to stay. So stay. I don’t care how we make it work—I just know I don’t wanna go another night without you.”

She swallowed hard, searching my face like she was trying to memorize every detail. “Paige…”

“I’m serious.” I brushed my thumb over her cheek, letting myself get lost in her warmth. “I love you. I don’t wanna keep doing this long-distance thing when we both know where this is going.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she let out a shaky laugh. “And where’s that?”

I gave her a knowing look. “Where do you think?”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes flickering between mine, and I could see the exact moment she realized I meant every word.

“You mean—”

“I mean,” I cut her off gently, “that I see forever when I look at you.”

Her face crumbled, and she let out a soft, shaky breath before pressing her lips to mine. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—just right. Just home.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against mine, and she whispered, “I see forever with you too.”

I smiled, feeling something settle deep in my chest. “Good.”

A tiny, sleepy voice suddenly mumbled between us.

“Paige?”

We both froze before glancing down. Aria stirred slightly, blinking up at me with half-lidded eyes.

“Yeah, munchkin?”

Her tiny hand reached up to touch my cheek, her voice drowsy. “Don’t go away again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, holding her just a little bit closer. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

She sighed contently, snuggling deeper into my hoodie.

I glanced at the love of my life, who was watching us with nothing but pure adoration in her eyes.

Home wasn’t a place. It was this. It was her. It was the sleepy little girl in my arms, the steady heartbeat against mine, and the unspoken promise that we’d never have to say goodbye again.

I had everything I needed right here.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part 6]

a/n: sorry for the delay..i kept this in my drafts hoping i’d get inspiration for something more creative but it never came so i waited like a month for nothing 😔

main masterlist | sweet masterlist

Paige really is trying to be happy.

But it’s incredibly fucking difficult to do when Azzi is laughing in somebody’s arms that’s not hers.

“Chill, P,” KK’s voice pipes up from beside her. “I think everyone in this room can feel how hard you’re staring at her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, scoffing as she forces herself to turn around. She’s felt jealous before - but nothing like this, where her stomach is turning and she feels physically sick. “You need to get laid.” KK suggests, poking her arm. “Flirt with some pretty girls. Make her jealous.”

“Nah, bro.” Paige rubs her temples. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, and her body never seems to feel 100% with all the conditioning and the intensity of their practices. Frankly, she’s physically and mentally exhausted, and the little energy she has left isn’t nowhere close to enough to deal with all this. “I’m done. I don’t wanna keep doing this back and forth shit.”

“So you’re gonna give up?” KK asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“She’s the one who gave up on us before we even started.” Paige toes the ground. “It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I told her how I felt and she doesn’t want to date me.” Her jaw tightens. “I just don’t get how she can forgive Micaela so easily and not me.”

“I don’t think it’s about forgiveness, Paige,” KK says slowly, her demeanor serious. “I think she’s scared, and rightfully so.”

“I know she is,” the blonde groans. “But goddamn, isn’t it worth it? I think about her and I get fucking giddy thinking about being able to take her on dates and shit.”

KK falls silent, worry pooling in her eyes for the girl that’s been like an older sister to her. She’s not used to this, being the one to give Paige advice. “You keep saying you’re okay,” she says finally. “But you don’t have to be.”

“I’m not,” Paige admits. “But I will be.”

•••

Paige curses, kicking at the chair before flopping down on it. Jana and Ice exchange looks behind her back as she aggressively grabs a Gatorade bottle and squirts water into her mouth.

“None of my shots are fucking falling,” she rants, eyes quickly tracking the movement on the court. “How many turnovers have I had?” she asks, turning to one of the team managers on the bench.

The manager checks her iPad, looking back up at Paige sympathetically. “Four.”

“Fuck.” Paige slams the Gatorade bottle down on her thigh. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me.”

The team is up by twenty five points, and Paige doesn’t see the court for the rest of the game. As soon as the buzzer sounds, she’s out of her seat, rushing through the handshake line to go to the locker room. She knows Geno likes giving the fourth quarter to the bench to help them get more experience, but she can’t help but be annoyed that she hadn’t been allowed to go back in and redeem herself against a shitty team that couldn’t even shoot. She’d turned the ball more over than had assists, for fuck’s sake.

“Paige, you coming?” The team is huddled around the door, on their way out for team dinner.

Paige is still next to her locker, head bowed down as she rummages through her duffel. “You guys go ahead,” she responds. “I think I’m done for the night.”

She hears her teammates hesitate, murmuring softly to each other before they decide to leave her be. As she hears the last of the footsteps, she turns around to make her own exit, making eye contact with big brown eyes as Azzi happens to look back at the same time.

Stay. Her eyes communicate everything she’s not brave enough to say out loud. Stay with me, she begs. I don’t want to be alone.

And Azzi, her best friend, who’s always been able to read Paige’s mind, who knows what Paige is feeling before she herself can ever put a name on it, who’s always there before Paige even has to ask, hesitates, her steps faltering, eyes rounding. But then her eyebrows dip, as if she’s remembering their last conversation, the hurt they’d made each other feel.

Azzi bites her bottom lip and turns back around, pace quickening to catch up with the rest of the team.

Paige slams her locker shut.

She was a fool for ever believing Azzi would still care about her after everything she’d done.

•••

“Don’t beat yourself up, Paige,” her dad says. His voice is distorted over the speaker, but still comforting from thousands of miles away. “What would you say if one of your teammates had an off performance like this? You need to learn to give yourself grace too.”

“I know, I just-” Paige looks up at the ceiling, studying the ugly floral patterns glaring back down at her. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m letting them down.” She pulls the blanket tighter over herself. “I’m supposed to be their voice on the court, and today I was doing jack shit.”

“That’s what makes you a good leader. Recognizing the mistakes you’ve made, moving on from them and becoming better after.”

Paige sighs. She appreciates her dad’s efforts to comfort her, but right now nice words are doing nothing to alleviate the hollowness in her heart.

“This isn’t helping, is it?” her dad, ever so honest, realizes.

Paige winces. “Not really. But I appreciate it.”

He chuckles softly. “I could tell. Azzi was the only one who could get through to you when you were like this back in high school. Where is she?”

“She’s, uh, out right now. With the team.” Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they haven’t talked much at all in the last month. Her dad has always had a soft spot for Azzi, their more shy and introverted personalities making them get along.

“Well, when she comes back, have a talk with her, okay? I don’t want you sitting alone with your feelings. It’s not good for you.”

Paige swallows hard. “I will,” she lies. The mere mention of Azzi only intensifies the headache she’s already having. “Listen, I’m pretty tired, so I’m prolly gonna crash now.”

“Yeah, get some rest.” Her dad pauses. “I love you, Paige. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. Love you too.”

The call disconnects, and sitting in her bed in the dark room, the whirring air conditioning the only sound in the room besides her heavy breathing, Paige misses home more than ever. She misses her parents, and Drew. She misses being with people she hasn’t hurt over and over again with stupid mistakes.

“Paige?”

Paige looks up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and she’s more confused to see Azzi standing there uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot, cheeks pretty and rosy from the cold outside.

“Az? How’d you get in?”

“Aubrey gave me the key card.” Azzi drops said key card on the table. “Everyone’s really worried, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the crap.” Paige buries her face back into the pillows, not wanting another lecture on how bad she played. “I’m sorry I fucking blew it.”

“Paige.” Azzi’s tone is soft, and Paige realizes just now how much she’s missed the way her name sounds coming from Azzi’s mouth. “They’re not worried about the way you played. They’re worried about how you reacted to it. They’re worried about you.”

The younger girl sits down tentatively at the edge of the bed. “You always take care of the team,” she says quietly. “But you don’t have to carry the weight of that alone. Sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

Paige almost throws herself into Azzi’s arms, catching the dark haired girl off guard for a moment before she gently hugs her back. As if on instinct, her hands go up to start undoing her ponytail, like she used to always do after games. Azzi combs through her hair, gently twisting off the hair tie and murmuring into her ear.

Shoulders shaking, Paige sinks into Azzi’s chest as she finally allows herself to cry. “It’s okay, baby,” Azzi whispers, lips grazing her ear. “I got you.”

It seems like hours that Azzi holds Paige. Eventually, the blonde’s breathing evens out, her sniffling stopping as her breaths become deeper. She thinks Paige is asleep until the older girl turns her head slightly. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Azzi slings an arm across her waist, breathing her in. The ends of Paige’s hair tickle her cheek, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me to be?”

Paige’s voice comes out, barely in a whisper. “Yes.”

Azzi drops her head, lips skimming across the older girl’s neck. Paige’s skin is warm, her pulse fluttering under her touch. Azzi tightens her grip on her waist, thumb dipping under her shirt to stroke soft circles on her hipbone. Paige shifts closer. “Then I’ll be here.”

•••

Paige wakes up to tangled sheets and warm hands on her face. She blinks sleepily as her vision sharpens to see Azzi propped over her on one elbow. “How you feeling?” Azzi asks softly, her morning voice scratchy.

Paige reaches up, fingers trailing over Azzi’s hand cupping her cheek. “Better,” she breathes out. She looks over at the alarm clock, groaning. “We still have half an hour.”

Paige flips over onto her belly, resting her head on Azzi’s chest. Azzi grabs her waist, adjusting her so that the older girl is fully on top of her. Her hands go up to stroke Paige’s back, scratching up and down her bare skin with her fingernails. Closing her eyes, Paige listens to the steady beat of Azzi’s heart. “You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, rubbing her socked foot against Paige’s ankle. Paige has almost drifted off again when fingers gently brush hair out of her face. “We gotta be at breakfast in 10.”

“Don’t wanna get up.” She groans when Azzi takes her hands out from under her shirt, pushing Paige off her softly. Azzi starts to get ready, grabbing clothes to wear from Paige’s duffel without even asking.

Paige sits at the edge of the bed, watching Azzi move around the room. She can almost imagine that they’re back to normal again, going to bed together and waking up together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only one that makes me feel like this.”

Azzi pauses for a moment before choosing not to respond. She disappears into the bathroom, reemerging a few seconds later with two toothbrushes. She hands one to Paige. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Paige grabs the toothbrush and stares at her. “What? It’s true.”

“It’s not gonna help either of us move on,” Azzi says pointedly.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Paige challenges, following Azzi back to the bathroom.

“There’s no future for us, Paige,” Azzi says harshly, turning around to put a warning hand against Paige’s chest. She closes the door between the two of them as if to reaffirm their boundaries.

“So you’re just gonna come to my hotel room and hold me through the night then get pissed at me for still having feelings for you?” Paige laughs humorlessly, slumping down to sit against the door. “Real classy, Azzi.”

“You needed someone. I couldn’t sit in my room knowing you were suffering.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re making it worse by all this coming and leaving?” Paige blinks back tears. “God, you finally just look at me again and I go fucking crazy.” She scrambles to her feet once she hears the door unlock, and Azzi comes out, her eyes slightly red. “I can’t have just some of you. I need to have all of you or - or none of you.”

The younger girl jerks towards her. “You’re a fucking liar, you know? You said no matter what decision I chose, you would be happy,” she shoots back, voice shaky with anger.

Paige’s eyes cloud over. “How do you know that?”

Azzi hesitated. “The letter you write me- I found it. In the guest room.” As if on instinct, her hands reach for her purse, but she stops herself. It certainly wouldn’t help her case if Paige knew she carried that note with her everywhere she went.

Cursing under her breath, Paige runs a hand through her hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, well.” Azzi takes a deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts. “I’m asking you to be happy for me, okay? I know it’s a lot. But you’re my best friend. I need you to do this for me.”

“You’re not being fair to me.” Paige’s words catch in her throat. “You know how this makes me feel.”

“I know.” Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. Her thumb finds the tears coating the older girl’s lashes, the dampness of her cheeks, trying to brush them away, trying to brush all their mistakes and their sins and their pain away. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Paige dips her head down, burrowing it into her shoulder, fingers digging into Azzi’s waist as if holding onto her any tighter will keep her from slipping away from her life. “Okay.” Her voice cracks. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been firmly resolute in her ultimatum - seeing Azzi with other people had hurt too fucking much for her to stand. But now? Paige has always been a people pleaser. Recently she’s been learning to stand her ground, to be okay with letting others be upset. But when it comes to her best friend, who’s pleading with her, eyes wet with grief and hope and a million words unsaid, Paige knows that she doesn’t have it in her to say no. That learning to get over her pain will somehow be doable if it means that it’ll take away just a little bit of Azzi’s . “Okay.”

[coldfanbou]

Toying Around

Here we go back to this storyline with Chaeyoung! And we get some story bits. I just wanted to add a little more to Chaeyoung

Length 3.2K

Chaeyoung X Mreader

Previous Part

Sitting around the bar, Chaeyoung happily explains her adventure with you. “This big! " she nearly shouts, moving her hands apart. She smiles and shuts her eyes as she remembers that night. “Ah, I want to see him again. I hope he calls me,” she giggles before opening her eyes to see her friends shaking their heads. 

“I’m not sure anyone would want to spend a second night with you,” Tzuyu teases, sticking her tongue out. Chaeyoung’s mouth hangs open, shocked that Tzuyu was bold enough to say that to her face. 

Hearing the other woman laugh, Chaeyoung turns her head to Mina. “Don’t laugh!” She yells, shaking the older woman’s shoulders. “I can totally sleep with him again.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you call him?” Tzuyu asks, amused by the tantrum she managed to get out of Chaeyoung.

“I will!” Chaeyoung roars, pulling out her phone. She scrolls through her contacts, reaching the bottom and not finding you. She looked through her contacts again before realizing she had put her number on your phone, but she didn’t have yours. Chaeyoung’s breathing quickens, and she gulps, knowing she’s about to get a tongue-lashing for not having your number. 

“She doesn’t have his number!” Tzuyu shouts, pointing and laughing at her friend. 

“I do!” Chaeyoung shouts, her tone more whining than anything else. Mina couldn’t help but laugh at the situation; Chaeyoung was flustered, blabbering whatever she could think of to explain why she didn’t have your number. 

“Maybe I’ll give you his number so you can have someone to see again,” Mina giggles, handing out your number to Chaeyoung.

“Not you, too,” Chaeyoung whimpers; the teasing she was getting from her friends was unending. Pitifully, she accepts the number, typing it into her phone.

“Go ahead and call him. I want to see this.” Chaeyoung huffs at the request, but already beaten down, she presses the call button and puts the phone to her ear. She listens to the soft beeps of the dialing tone.

“It’s ringing,” she tells the others as she waits. Chaeyoung feels a sense of shame as she calls you in front of her friends. While they were close, it was embarrassing for her to be asking for sex while they were right in front of her. 

“Hello? Chaeyoung?”

“Hi,” Chaeyoung said weakly, pursing her lips as her friends tried to keep their laughing to a minimum. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet again. I’m-I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” Chaeyoung balled her fist, wanting nothing more than to beat her friends who were moving away from her, their laughing becoming increasingly loud. 

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” You reply, thinking about what to do. “But if you wanted to come by my place tonight, that would be fine.” 

“Yeah, that’s great. I’ll call you later.” Chaeyoung blurts out, wanting to end the call as quickly as possible. “Thanks, bye.” She says before pressing the button. Chaeyoung presses her head against the bar counter. Mina and Tzuyu continue laughing, their stomachs starting to hurt as they try to catch their breath. 

“So-so what did he say,” Tzuyu manages to get out between laughs. 

“I’ll see him tonight,” Chaeyoung huffs, keeping her head against the counter.

“Cheer up; you're going to have a good time tonight,” Mina says, patting the short woman’s head. 

“I guess.” Chaeyoung was not happy about how this situation had happened, but she took a deep breath. 

You put your phone down and get back to work. Jeongyeon sits down a moment later, sitting on your right. She smiles at you, “Hey, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” She says, moving her hair behind her ear as she readies herself. 

Just then, Dahyun sat on your other side. “Hey, you two. Guess who just got put onto your team?” 

“You?” 

“Yep! Not just me, though, Nayeon too. We’re all going to be right next to each other.” 

“O-oh, that’s so nice.” Jeongyeon gulped; the last thing she wanted was to have everyone so close. Before, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but now that it was known they all wanted to be with you, it would be. Jeongyeon curses her luck; it would happen just when she was going to ask you out.

“Why don’t we all go out to karaoke to celebrate?” Dahyun pushes the idea, purposely wanting to keep solo dates from happening. “We can do it at the end of the week.”

“Oh, I don’t know about-”

“Did someone say karaoke?” Nayeon interrupts. She places a hand on Jeongyeon and Dahyun’s shoulder as she pokes her head forward. “Karaoke would be so much fun. Let’s go!” Nayeon stomps her feet, clearly excited to go out with friends. 

“A-alright then, this Friday.” Jeongyeon stammers. She tries to hide her disappointment with a small smile. Nayeon shakes her friend's shoulder before taking a seat next to her. 

“It’s been a long time since I heard you sing. You guys are in for a real treat.” Nayeon says, leaning forward to look at you and Dahyun. “She’s a great singer.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear her sing then.” You reply. “Let’s get back to work, though.” You say, trying to refocus you all. The three of you work through the day with each of the women, blocking each other from having a moment alone with you. The mountain of work you had was slowly whittled away; by the end of the day, you had gotten through a little over half of it. The four of you were tired, frustrated, and annoyed by your bosses piling on more just before you left. It would mean more work for you tomorrow. 

You drive the girls home in silence, without the radio on. Each of you just wanted some peace and quiet. You drop them off at their homes. They wave to you as you leave, and you get home quickly. You walk to the door slowly when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Chaeyoung’s name. “Hey, Chaeyoung, what’s up?” You answer.

“Are we still meeting…Master?”

You chuckle at the mention of being her master. “Come on over.” You reply, “I’ll be waiting. I have a lot of stress to get out, so be ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Chaeyoung says before hanging up. You head into your home and lay down on the couch after changing into your regular clothes. You hang your head back and try to relax as you wait for Chaeyoung. Your mind thinks back to the busy day; having Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Nayeon working with you made the work you were doing a little more bearable, but you were still frustrated about getting more work dumped on you at the last second. Your phone buzzes with a message from Chaeyoung telling you she’s here. You tell her to come in, and a moment later, the door to your home opens. You watch the young woman walk into your home wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. “Hi, Master,” She says quietly, gripping the hem of her shirt as she stands in front of you. You flick a switch inside yourself, ready to release all your stress.

“Come here, sit, " you tell her, patting your lap. Chaeyoung nods and quickly shuffles over, sitting on your lap and wrapping her arms around you. You place one hand on her soft thighs and gently squeeze them. “So, what did my little toy want?” You ask, moving your hand under her shirt. You find that she wasn’t wearing a bra and pinch her soft nipple, making Chaeyoung moan. 

“I-I wanted my Master to fuck me. I’ve been thinking about your cock all day.” She answers, leaning her body against yours. “My pussy misses you,” Chaeyoung whispers into your ear. Chaeyoung couldn’t believe what she was saying; she blamed Mina and Tzuyu for telling her to say those things, even if they were the truth. Chaeyoung grabbed the hand under her shirt and dragged it down to her panties. She was already wet. Chaeyoung gives you a slight smile as you look back at her. 

“We’ll get there,” you tell her as you slip your hand under her panties and run your fingers along her slit. Chaeyoung’s breath hitches as she feels your hand touching her directly. Your other hand moves to the front, grabbing Chaeyoung's small breasts. You massage her body, making Chaeyoung moan. “You know I had a really tough day at work. I could really use those pretty lips of yours on my cock.” You push two fingers into Chaeyoung’s cunt, making her raise her voice.

“Y-yes, Master. Whatever you want.”

“That’s a good girl.” You whisper as you pull your hands away from Chaeyoung’s body. The petite woman quickly places herself between your legs, kneeling before you. Chaeyoung tugs at your sweatpants; with your help, she’s able to get them off quickly. As soon as she sees your cock Chaeyoung smiles. She opens her mouth and drags her tongue along the shaft, flicking the head as she reaches the top. Her hand grabs the base of the shaft, and she gives you slow and short strokes while she wraps her lips around the head. Chaeyoung’s tongue moves around the tip as she sucks on it like it is a lollipop. You tilt your head back and groan, enjoying the feeling of her soft lips wrapped around your cock. Chaeyoung bobs her head slowly, keeping her tongue moving at all times. It moves from side to side along the underside as she slowly takes in more of you. Soon, you’re hitting the back of her throat. 

Chaeyoung keeps you inside as if trying to memorize where every vein on your shaft is. She pulls back slowly, keeping her lips tightly wrapped around the shaft. The petite woman keeps her hands around your shaft, stroking the base as she spits on your cock. “I missed it so much, Master.” She tells you, her eyes watery from her earlier actions. Chaeyoung drags her tongue along the shaft, “It’s so good. You can cum whenever you want, Master.”

“I know,” You reply, touching her head. Chaeyoung understands your wants and leans back down, taking your cock into her throat. You fill her tiny mouth as you push her down, making her take every inch she can. Chaeyoung missed this feeling. As you push her down, Chaeyoung can feel her body crying out for more. She reaches between her legs, about to touch herself when you let her go. “No touching yourself, Chaeyoung.”

“But,”

“No buts.” Chaeyoung nods and goes back to servicing you. Her desires grow stronger as time passes, more when she gets a taste of your precum. She can feel her thighs becoming wet with her juices as she bobs her head. Despite her increasing desires, Chaeyoung holds off on touching herself. She places her hands on your thighs just so you know she isn’t defying you. You smirk at her subservience and push her head down to the base of your cock, choking her as you fill her throat. “I’m cumming, Chaeyoung; I want you to drink it all.” 

The petite woman tries her best to drink the waves of cum pouring into the back of her throat. It becomes too much, though; it spills from the corners of her mouth, rubbing down her cheeks. You were more than satisfied with her work. As you look at Chaeyoung, you see her bloodshot eyes. She had nearly passed out. Still, though, she wanted more. Chaeyoung licked the cum on her cheeks, cherishing every drop of the salty liquid. You pat Chaeyoung’s head. “Come on, let’s go to the bedroom.” Chaeyoung rises and waits for you to lead her to the bedroom. 

You take her arm and get her in front of you. You stare at Chaeyoung for a moment, remembering how you woke up with her the other day. You grab her ass and lift the young woman, kissing her as you lay her on the bed. Moving your hands from her soft cheeks, you pull her shirt off her, leaving Chaeyoung in a pair of red panties. You pull away the soaked garment and rub your cock against her slit. She whimpers, her body craving your cock.

“Tell me what you want, Chaeyoung,”

“Please fuck me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore.” Chaeyoung begs, holding her legs apart for you. You smile and push your cock inside the young woman, giving her a little more than half before you begin to pull out. Chaeyoung moans, resting her head against the bed as she feels your cock stretching her tiny cunt. It almost hurts, but the pleasure she feels covers it all. 

Leaving the head inside, you wait for a second before ramming your length inside Chaeyoung. Her soft moan becomes a shrill scream as she feels your cock hit her womb. This was the feeling she remembered. Chaeyoung’s toes curl as the pleasure hits her like a truck.  You grab Chaeyoung’s legs, placing them close to your chest as you thrust into her cunt. 

Chaeyoung’s tightness was nice; it held you tightly as you slid in. Considering she was wet before you had started, you were able to slide in and out quickly. You drive yourself deep into Chaeyoung, smashing yourself against her womb. Chaeyoung moans your name as you fuck her senseless, your pace becoming quicker as time goes on. The petite woman was already on the verge of cumming. Now that you were feeding her desires, her core was tightening, her muscles flexing. “I’m gonna cum,” she moans softly, biting her lip as the pressure in her body builds up. 

“You’re going to cum already? I’m not even close.” You reach down and pinch Chaeyoung’s nipples, making her whine. “Well, I’m not going to stop even if you do. Cum for me, Chae.” You pull on her nipples, stretching them. Chaeyoung cries out, the mixture of pain and pleasure becoming too much for her. 

“I’m cumming!” She screams, her walls tightening around you, trying to get your cum. You continue thrusting into Chaeyoung, the waves of pleasure crashing over her, only getting stronger as you overstimulate her. “Fuck!” Chaeyoung cries out as you continue to thrust into her. You slow down, letting Chaeyoung get a small break. You didn’t want to break her yet. You steal a kiss from the young woman, groping her breasts as you wait for her body to relax. “Thank you, Master,” she mumbles. 

You smirk. “Don’t thank me yet, Chaeyoung.” You pull away and look over the young woman; her chest rises and falls quickly, and she already looks like she’s in heaven.

You grab onto her waist. Tongue hanging out of her mouth and eyes nearly shut, you begin thrusting into the petite woman again. She wraps her legs around your waist as you fuck her like a toy. Chaeyoung grips your wrists, biting her lip as she feels your cock slam into her womb. “Oh fuck, harder, fuck me harder,” Chaeyoung moans. You lean in and kiss her, keeping her quiet while you move in and out. You dig your nails into her skin, making the young woman moan louder. She felt herself melting away, accepting your ownership like the night you met. Chaeyoung’s walls began to tighten around your cock; you grunt in response, the pleasure becoming too much. Your cock began to throb, telling Chaeyoung what was coming next. “I want it inside; please cum inside me, Master,” Chaeyoung begged you, tightening the grip she had on you. You didn’t care where she wanted it; you just needed to get all your energy out. 

You continue to thrust into the young woman, speeding up as you get closer to your climax. Chaeyoung’s moans grew louder. She shut her eyes and yelled. “I’m cumming!” Her hips shot up as she came, and her walls began milking you, squeezing down on your cock. You drove your cock deep inside Chaeyoung, pouring your seed into her needy womb.  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt your hot cum fill her body. “It’s here,” she murmured. Chaeyoung moved a hand down to her slit; her fingers slowly circled her clit. “You’re the best Master.” 

Chaeyoung turns onto her stomach, laying her head down on the bed. She was tired, her body tingling all over from her previous orgasms. You watched her small ass shake as she turned over, and you still had the energy to get out. You weren’t considering Chaeyoung’s feeling as you raised her ass into the air. You slapped one of the full cheeks, making her yelp. Looking over her shoulder, Chaeyoung watched as you got behind her and slammed your cock back into her dirty cunt. Weak moans flowed from her lips as you settled down deep inside her. She groaned as you snaked your arms around her legs. “Master?” she mumbled, wondering what you were doing. You move your hands around Chaeyoung’s arms and place them on the back of her head before gathering your strength and lifting her off the bed. You began your thrusts against going deeper than before as you gave her every inch. “Oh shit, you’re so deep.” You forced Chaeyoung’s head down; as she looked toward you from her position, she watched your cock disappear into her tiny cunt with every thrust. The sight, along with the lack of mobility, turned Chaeyoung on. 

She couldn’t do anything else but watch as you used her. She watched as your cum became creamy as you stirred it inside her. Chaeyoung could hardly contain herself; her body was already sensitive, and now that you had given her an entirely new feeling, she was losing it. Every thrust you gave her was like another orgasm coming over her. The petite woman was a toy to use at will, and you were going to spend all your energy on her. You came inside her again, dumping another load inside her sore cunt, but Chaeyoung was grateful. She mumbled a thank you as you continued slamming yourself inside. At some point, Chaeyoung began to drool on the floor, her mind completely gone.

As you began to run out of strength, you moved her over the bed, letting Chaeyoung go and dropping her onto it. It wasn’t the end just yet, though; you want to get one last use out of her. You continued your thrust until you came again. Thoroughly spent, you pull out of Chaeyoung and collapse next to her. The young woman was covered in sweat, her hair messy and matted to her forehead. Cum was running down her legs, dripping from her red cunt. You lean over and kiss the top of her head, “My little toy did a good job,” you tell her. The edges of Chaeyoung’s lips curl up at your praise. Dragging her full body onto the bed, Chaeyoung gives in, falling asleep instantly, more than satisfied even if her body aches when she wakes up in the morning.

[astral-multiverse]

"You know what this means, bro. We need to find you a good outfit for the dance! Oh, maybe Lexi can make you one! You know she would love to make you look good for a moment like this" Bella said

"Yeah, she does like making clothes for us..." Brandon chuckles

"Oh this is such a grand moment! I can't believe this day has finally come! I'm so happy for you, bro!" Bella said as she playfully noogies him

"Ow, hey! Cut it out, Bell!" Brandon whined as he tried to escape her grasp, even though he was glad to see her happy like this

The Retold Tales of Team RWBY

@astral-multiverse

Legends. Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts, of a forgotten past.

"Do not worry...I will be fine..."

Man, born from dust, was strong, wise, and resourceful, but he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness — creatures of destruction — the creatures of Grimm - set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void.

"I'll show them...I'm not some little girl that needs to be looked after anymore..."

However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named "Dust".

"Just you wait! Soon, I'll be just as strong as you, Cloud!"

Nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness, and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life.  But even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone... darkness will return. So you may prepare your guardians, build your monuments to a so-called "free world", but take heed... there will be no victory in strength....Heh Heh...

"But perhaps victory is in the simpler things that you've long forgotten. Things that require a smaller, more honest soul...."

We find ourselves in the City of Vale, where Outside the shop 'From Dust Till Dawn' a lone figure walks up, clad in green, they look up at the sign

"Hey, a Dust Shop! We could use a restock!"

"Hope you know what your doing..."

As the lone figure walked in, the looked around, gathering what they needed before bumping into someone, which shocked them soo bad they stumbled back!

"W-Whoa-URGH!"

[graceface1712]

How Sweet Pouge reader met Rafe!

Soft RafexSweetPouge reader

Summary: Rafe is known to hate Pouges. All of them are nuisances to him. Until one particular girl catches his eye. He asks Topper if he knows her name and only for Topper to tell him that she’s a Pouge. 

Warnings: Nothing!

Enjoy 🫶🏻🫶🏻

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊

The beach party was in full swing. People were drinking, dancing, and partying their asses off. Rafe on the other hand, was busy trying to make sure Topper’s psychotic girlfriend, Ruthie, didn’t start any more fights with people. She was literally insane.

“Topper. Control your girl. She’s being a fucking lunatic.” He bites out to Topper. Crazy ass bitch. He thinks to himself. His eyes scan the beach, making sure everything is going smoothly. Then all the sudden, his eyes land on you.

You’re wearing a bright pink tank top, it’s spaghetti straps fighting to hold in your boobs that are threatening to spill out from you jumping around. It shows just a sliver of your tan waist, but it’s enough to make Rafe want to wrap his arms around it. Your toned legs are clad in a pair of jean shorts and beaded brackets decorate your arms.

You look so carefree, so happy. Dancing around with everyone. Your smile is stunning. It takes Rafe’s breath away in the best way possible.

Rafe turns to Topper. “Hey, who is that?” He asks him. Topper tries to see who Rafe is pointing to.

“Dude, there’s about 20 people you could be pointing to right now.” Topper says sarcastically.

“Her. The girl in the pink tank top and jean shorts.” Rafe says growing impatient, even though he knows Topper had a point. It’s a giant group of dancing teenagers and Rafe could have been pointing to any of them. But he needed to find out who this girl is.

“Oh. Man that’s Y/N. She’s hot but I would never mess with her. She’s a Pouge, the Pouge princess as many people refer to her.” Topper spits the word out with disgust. Rafe’s eyes widen.

Now he remembers. Of course he knows how the Pouge Princess is. I mean, he’s the Kook King.

Well you being a Pouge isn’t going to stop him. He may hate Pouges but most of them are annoying and make stupid decisions. He’s never even heard of you so you must be normal.

Rafe walks over to you confidently. When he wants something, he gets it. And you’re no different.

When he lightly grabbed Y/N’s arm, she was startled and turned around to see who the culprit was.

She was even more surprised when she was met with Rafe Cameron staring down at her. Y/N along with everybody else knows that Rafe doesn’t interact with Pouges unless he has to. And typically it’s in a violent way.

Rafe has never done anything bad to her before. Honestly, she doesn’t get out too much anyways. Usually her dad is making her scrub down their little shack, and if not, she’s out at the beach tanning and surfing.

Y/N just lives her life to the fullest. Her family is dirt poor, the only reason they have a roof over their heads is because her grandpa built her house when he was younger. But other than that, life is all about the experience for her. She tries to be kind to everybody and will never ever judge someone for what they look like, or how they are. That’s why many people in town refer to her as the “Pouge Princess”.

But she has no hard feelings towards Rafe unlike many other kids on the cut her age. She doesn’t blame them though.

“Hi.” Rafe says. He can smell her intoxicating scent. She smells like a warm, vanilla, bakery. The breeze is making her scent drift right to his nose.

“Hi!” She giggles and its music to ears. “Do you need something from me?” She asks him.

He lets go of her arm and runs a hand through his buzzed hair. But something caught his attention, there was no judgment, no nasty look, or condescending tone in her voice that was directed at him. Most people in town couldn’t even look at him without wincing. Whether it was from fear or disgust. So naturally, Rafe was drawn to her.

“Well I just wanted to come talk to the prettiest girl on the beach.” He said with a grin stretching across his face. Y/N’s face burned with a blush.

“You think I’m pretty?” She shyly asked him

“I think you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He leans down and whispers in her ear.

The red staining Y/N’s cheeks turned to a dark crimson. Y/N has struggled with her appearance for a long time. Her dad being the main cause of that, always calling her ugly and worthless. The compliment meant a lot to her.

Rafe and Y/N shouted over the loud music, talking to each other about everything. Y/N was dancing and swaying to the music, and Rafe was trying to keep her still so her words wouldn’t jumble up while she was bumping around.

After a while, Y/N got tired. She smushed her face into Rafe’s chest.

“I’m tiredddd.” She complained. Rafe wrapped his hands around her forearms and guided her to a big piece of driftwood down the beach. Now they were away from the craziness of the party.

Rafe was looking at Y/N with something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She’s asks him.

“Can I go on a date with you?” The words fly out of his mouth before he can even register what he’s saying. Y/N’s mouth falls open.

“What?” She asks.

“Can I take you out? On a date. Tomorrow.” Rafe says. Now his words are collected and put together.

Y/N teases him a little. Taking a long time to come up with an answer. Even going as far as tapping her pointer finger on her chin and making it look like she’s thinking about it. Obviously there is only one answer.

“Y/N.” Rafe mutters.

“Of course I will!” Y/N happily says, finally giving up on her teasing. A sigh of relief escapes Rafe. Like she was really going to say no.

“Thank goodness. Here’s my phone you can give me your phone number so you can send me your address.” Rafe says while fishing his phone out of his pocket and opening his contacts app.

Y/N’s whole mood changes. More red flush adorns her cheeks, but not out of the fact that she has butterflies or is nervous, it’s out of embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks her. He noticed her mood change.

“Ummm. I don’t have a phone.” She says.

“Why are you grounded or something?” Rafe asks her.

“No, it’s just my parents can’t afford to get me a phone.” Y/N says embarrassed.

Rafe’s eyes widen. He has never experienced a life without having some sort of electronics thrown in his face. Ward had always tried to buy his and his sister‘s love with either the newest gaming console or tablet or iPhone.

“Oh. Well that’s okay. You can just give me your address and I’ll write it down in my notes app.” Rafe says. It’s obvious that she is uncomfortable about not having a phone, so he doesn’t want to make it something it doesn’t have to be.

“Okay.” Y/N says and then proceeds to tell Rafe her address. She’s glad he didn’t make a big deal out of the situation. I mean it’s the 21st century almost every kid her age has a cell phone, especially in the Outer Banks. But unfortunately, her parents don’t make enough money to be able to give her a phone. So she goes without one. The only way her friends can communicate with her, is verbally.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 6pm sharp. Wear something comfortable.” Rafe says and smiles.

“Okay. I’ll be ready” Y/N beams up at him.

“Can’t wait baby.” That’s the last thing Rafe says before walking off and disappearing into the crowd of teenagers.

What just happened? They both wonder to themselves.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

First one! 🫶🏻

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

begging on my knees, ripping my skin off for shiu kong ANYTHING <3 ily cinna LMAOO

Bullet for my Assassin

Tags: Shiu x fem!Reader, Toji x fem!Reader, mfm, why choose, kidnapping, murder, dead dove, dark romance plot, you're being used for ransom, Toji and Shiu are morally black in this one.

Synopsis: Your dad is a wealthy CEO of Japan, but he hates you because you were born a girl instead of a boy. Toji and Shiu kidnap you and hold you ransom for money. Things ensue???

An: Hiiiii nepo baby, i know you said shiu kong anything. I hope you don’t mind Toji making an appearance. Also, HAPPY (so very late; i'm so sorry.) BIRTHDAY!!! Look, i gotta be honest. I ran out of inspiration for this fic, so I'm posting it, hoping it will revitalize some of that inspiration for a part two. That being said, let me know if I should make a part two.

Being the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Japan was actually a death sentence. Since you didn’t have a dick between your legs, you’re obviously less than in the world of business.

Your dad pressured your mom into giving him children to inherit the company, but he didn’t want children. He wanted men to inherit the company. You were just a lowly girl!! How were you supposed to manage a company? Girls clearly didn’t know anything about finance or business. (can you smell my sarcasm)

Ruthless and cold, your father never showed you nor your mother an ounce of love. In fact, he had tried multiple avenues to try and prove that you weren’t his kid. Unfortunately for both of you, you share 23 of your dad’s chromosomes.

His anger was growing worse towards you as you got older and developed your own personality. Everything you did was wrong in his eyes. Even though the company was specifically suppose to go to his kid, your father had been toying with the idea of selling out just so you couldn’t ruin what he had built.

Not that you cared, you thought about how if you were the CEO, you’d burn the company to the ground just to spite his wishes. You’d love to see him turn over in his grave as he watched his baby burn because of his daughter.

You basically lived alone. Your mother had passed a couple of years ago due to strange circumstances, and your father never bothered to come home. There would be no point to socializing with the likes of you.

Your mother’s early death rocked you to your core. For your entire childhood, she was weary and exhausted. Your father directed his anger on her, and she couldn’t help but subconsciously put the blame on you. If only you were a boy.

She did a good job of not showing her true thoughts. She wasn’t a doting or nurturing, but she was there for you. She never raised a hand to you, never raised her voice with you, never called you mean names. That was all you could ask for whenever your dad was so vile towards you. While she wasn’t close with you, she was still your mom, and she was the closest thing to parental guidance that you had. Her death was the beginning of your lonely existence.

The mansion was like a prison for you. Since your dad was so prominent in social media, you had an image to uphold, and he didn’t want you ruining that image. So, he didn’t even give you the chance to interact with anyone outside of the house. The only way for you to escape his claws was to either get married or die, and getting married was impossible when you weren’t allowed to interact with anyone on the outside.

You preferred being alone. The empty quiet feelings was better than the anxiety you got when your father was home. He’d always start yelling at the waitstaff about something so minuscule. He harbored so much anger that the house practically turned sour when he came home.

What was the saying? If you grow up with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. The thought of marrying someone like your dad made you want to gouge your eyes out with a butter knife. Being alone was the best option.

Besides, the waitstaff was nice. They cared for you… albeit from a distance, but they cared. It was known that you received the worst of your father’s anger, so they empathized with you.

The house was particularly quiet late one evening. It wasn’t the normal quiet that gave you a sense of peace. It was eerily quiet, giving you a sense of dread. The sounds of hushed talking and dishes clattering was the usual background noise in the house from the waitstaff, but there was nothing right now… as if it truly was just you in the house.

The alarms would’ve went off if someone entered. Not to mention there’s security posted around the perimeter… unless your father was the reason that it was so quiet… Surely, it was just him. Maybe he sent the waitstaff home for the day?

You carefully slipped out of bed, pulling a robe on over your silk pajamas. Being a CEO’s daughter wasn’t all bad. You received luxury items in exchange for feeling void of any real human connection and your dad’s hatred!

Briefly taking a moment to wonder if you were being one of those dumb characters from a scary movie, you quickly pushed those thoughts out of your head. Your life was more of a tragedy than a horror movie.

Slowly stepping out of your room, the click of your door latching filled the space, and you held your breath for just a moment. Nothing.

You soundlessly walked down the hall. Since you were on the second floor, there was a landing where you could look over the rails to see the bottom floor.

Nothing. No- is that a foot? Is someone lying on the ground. You leaned farther over the wooden railing to see. You were surely mistaken, right? Who was lying on the floor?

The feeling of a hand pressing down on the back of your head. Fingers entangled with your hair as the unknown man gripped you from behind. His other hand was steady on your hip. You were being dangled over the side of the railing by a stranger.

Immediately, you started to thrash against his hold, panicking as you did so. “Let me go!” You shouted, kicking your feet out from behind you to try to get away from him.

Turning your head as much as his hand would allow, you only caught the glimpse of a scar on the man’s lip. He shot you a grin before pushing your body closer to the edge, almost making you topple right over the railing.

“Yeah, princess? Want me to let you go?” His voice was husky, teasing almost. It had a raspy edge to it that sent shivers up your spine as you were now trying to push back against him to get away from the edge.

Your eyes were looking at the drop, wondering if it was better to just fall than to face whatever this man was going to do you. Somethings were worse than death…

You switched tactics, pulling away from him instead of trying to get away from the rail. You were going to topple right over it. A growl of frustration left his lips as he easily yanked you away from the railing. Your body collided with his brick wall of a warm chest.

Taking a chance to look up at him, you immediately regretted it. The perpetrator had black hair that came over his forehead and pretty green eyes that you could get lost in. His lips seemed to permanently house a cocky smirk, and fuck, he was built.

“You must have a death wish, brat.” He scowled at you as if he wasn’t the one who dangled you so close to the edge.

Not bothering to answer his taunts, you quickly started to fight against him, beating against his chest with your hands, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He was massive. You were sure that none of your blows were doing anything to him.

Without any difficulty, the hulk-sized man slung you over his shoulder, securing an arm around your frame. He didn’t even flinch or bat an eye each time you hit him. Your fists did little to his toned back.

Not able to fight your way out, you use your next best defense tool: your voice. “Let me go!” You shrieked as loud as possible. “Let me go! Somebody help!” Tears coated your eyes, and your voice went hoarse from yelling.

“Let me goo~ Somebody help mee~” The man mocked you in an obscene high-pitched tone with a laugh. He had done his homework. Even if you screamed, no one would be coming to save you right now.

Every staff member in the house was deceased, and thank god your dear old dad is so paranoid that he put his mansion in the literal middle of nowhere. There were no neighbors that’d hear you either.

You were completely and utterly alone with the man who was kidnapping you. A deep sense of dread and hopelessness filled your stomach, and you continued to cry — weakly begging for anyone to help you.

The man toned you out rather easily as he carried you down the massive flight of stairs. He used his free hand to flip open a burner phone, and he dialed a number before talking.

“The security system is still down?” His gruff, no-nonsense voice returned to him as if he wasn’t just making fun of you moments prior.

Even though you knew it was likely one of his associates on the phone, you screamed for help. Hot tears coated your cheeks as your voice strained.

A firm smack to your ass jolted you, and your voice caught in your throat. Did your kidnapper really just spank you for misbehaving?

“The girl isn’t hurt. She’s just being dramatic. I’m heading to the pickup spot.” He didn’t let the person on the other side answer before he clopped the flip phone shut, effectively ending the call.

“Gonna get me in trouble acting like that, girl.” The man tsked his tongue, and he continued to effortlessly carry you around to the back entrance of the house.

You finally caught a glimpse of your poor staff members. Your heart lurched in your chest. They had families and lives. Now, they were dead on your floor because of this man.

The man didn’t say another word as you cried. He kept his one arm firmly wrapped around you as he so casually carried you out of the house. The security system and the guards had already been dealt with.

Soon, you unceremoniously shoved into the back of a black tinted car. You struggled as much as you could, kicking and scratching. You even tried to bite the man as he tied your arms behind your back.

“Keep fighting. I’ll hogtie and gag your ass.” He threatened lowly, becoming sick of this game with you. He never quite understood why people fought so hard against him when he clearly held the upper hand. It was useless.

Letting out a small sob, you laid against the backseat of the car. The leather interior felt cold and ruthless as your tears fell from your eyes.

“Come on, Toji. We don’t have all day.” The driver reprimanded as if the man was simply buckling in a toddler and not kidnapping a grown woman.

You flinched from the sound of the driver’s voice. You had been so focused on fighting against the Toji guy that you didn’t even realize there was another man idly sitting in the front seat, puffing on a cigar.

Toji tied your ankles together, but he didn’t hogtie you thankfully. Without saying another word, he slammed the door shut before getting into the passenger side seat.

You felt your heart drop as the car started to move. You had an inkling… you’d never see that mansion again. You just knew it. Even though you hated the very frame that house sat on, you longed for the empty feeling of sitting inside. You’d take the void of living in a loveless home over being taken by two men.

Your stomach churned, and suddenly, you felt ill as you faced the grave circumstances. Bile raised in your throat, and your hands struggled against the ropes that Toji had bound you with. Panic set in. You were going to choke on your vomit while you laid face down in it.

“There she goes.” Toji muttered, tone laced with annoyance before he reached back and pulled your arm so your mouth was hanging over the back seat. You threw up safely into the floor.

“I just got this car detailed.” The driver groaned as he took another puff from his cigar.

“It happens every time without fail. Ya should start puttin’ puppy pads back there or something.” Toji responded as his arm was still reached back, bracing your body.

“Yeah, because that’s not suspicious at all.” The driver responded with a sarcastic tone. It was clear that this wasn’t their first encounter with kidnapping someone. You didn’t even want to think about the implications of that.

Your adrenaline was dropping off, and while you knew you should try and stay awake — try to map out the turns the car made, you were exhausted after emptying your stomach contents into the floor.

Your head rested against the cool leather seats, and a moment later, you were out.

“It’s like fuckin’ clockwork.” Toji commented as he saw you dozing off in the backseat.

“Let me hogtie you and throw you into the back of a car, and we’ll see if you don’t throw up and pass out.” The driver grinned over at him.

“Kinky.” Was all the man responded with.

*** *** ***

The next time you awoke you were bound to a chair in a surprisingly well-lit room. It appeared to be a bedroom. Judging by the overly bland decor, you assumed this was an Airbnb or a hotel. There was no way they could’ve hauled your sleeping body into a hotel without being noticed, so it was definitely an Airbnb. Taking in your surroundings, you flinched as you finally caught a glimpse of the two men standing in your peripheral. They were silently watching you.

“So nice of you to join us, sleeping beauty.” Toji mocked with an easy grin, the scar on his lip flexing upwards. If he wasn’t your kidnapper, you would’ve classified him to be rather handsome in a very rugged sense. He just looked like the type of man who could get the job done.

“I thought we accidentally killed ya.” The driver who was now not driving remarked.

You had to be smarter with your words this time. There was no point in begging to be set free. They had already taken you to god knows where, killed your entire staff, and bound you to a chair. There was no going back for them.

“My dad has money. That’s what you’re after, right?” You bargained, taking a stab in the dark. This didn’t feel like human trafficking. This felt like a hostage, ransom situation. Little did they know, your dad probably wasn’t going to pay a single penny to get you back.

“Clever girl.” The driver grinned. He was also another handsome man with chestnut brown hair and a mustache. He seemed much more calmer than Toji, and he had a capable energy to him. You could tell that he was definitely the ringleader. Toji was simply the muscle behind the operation.

The driver took three slow, calculated steps towards you. He was still out of reach as he crouched down to be at your level. His eyes were dark brown as he carefully exam you.

“If you’re good, I’ll explain how this is gonna work.” The man said lowly. His voice was deeper than Toji’s but not as gravely or hardened. He had a voice fit for radio.

You slowly nodded, tears already sliding down your cheeks out of sheer fear.

“Good girl. Keep that same energy for the camera.” The man purred before you directed your attention to Toji. He was setting up a tripod with a nice Canon camera set up on it. He flicked the lights off, but it wouldn’t be too dark for anyone to see.

Your body started to react before you could even fully process what was going on. You rocked back and forth in your chair while crying, trying to fight against the restraints. Toji clicked the record button, and he pulled two black balaclavas out of his pocket. Throwing one at the other man and slipping one on for himself. Their identities besides their eyes were completely concealed.

The nameless man tied a piece of cloth that worked as a gag around your mouth, and you sobbed harder. This could go so many ways, and you didn’t want to consider all the possibilities. Your mind thinking up the most depraved acts.

Then, the nameless man held a voice distorter up to his mouth, like the ones that were used in horror films. Toji suddenly grabbed your hair tightly with his oversized fist, and he made you look directly into the camera.

The nameless man started the video off by addressing your dad by his full name. “We have your daughter.” He plainly stated, going silent so one of your muffled sobs could clearly he heard.

He went on a spill about the ransom and how it was going to work. They were demanding 10 million dollars to be paid in a week. It had to be paid in person by your dad, or they would mail him your body parts.

You choked out sobs and tried to scream. You were going to die. There was no way you were going to make it out of this situation alive.

Toji’s thumb ever so gently caressed the back of your head. He was still holding your hair tightly, making you look directly into the camera, but he was subtly rubbing small circled into your scalp as if he was trying to subtly soothe you.

Whatever his intent was, it wasn’t working. You strained against the rope and the gag. You cried and tried to beg your way out of this. Finally, the nameless man showed the camera a timer. It was set for 168 hours, and it was steadily dwindling down.

Then, he stopped the recording ominously. “Can’t believe we got that on the first try.” He muttered with a laugh before pulling off his balaclava. He then flicked back on the lights.

You looked at both of the men in a confused manner. They were both so calm and casual after recording a literal ransom video. It was eerie. You hated this feeling of distrust and uneasiness that settled into the pit of your stomach.

Toji ripped off his balaclava, and he promptly untied the gag before picking up the camera off the tripod and walking away.

“Alright doll, you did so good.” The nameless man praised as he crouched back down to be at your level. “I guess that means I gotta tell you how things are gonna work now, huh?”

A sheepish nod later, and he continues, "I'm Shiu, and you already know the other old fucker's name is Toji." He starts, gesturing to Toji who was lazily typing away at a computer with a death glare.

"We're not gonna hurt ya until you give us a reason to. You just gotta be good for us and do as we say, and this will be a breeze." Shiu's tone was steady and lighthearted as if he was talking about the itinerary to a vacation and not your kidnapping.

Tears clouded your vision. Your captors seemed to have thought of all the details but one. Your father couldn't give less of a fuck about you, and he likely wasn't going to pay a dime for your safe return.

"And when my dad doesn't pay you two, then what? You two kill me and mail my body off so you can move onto the next mogul's daughter?" You asked -- tone full of resentment.

"We're not amateurs, darlin'." Shiu grins at you, boldly using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears from your cheeks. You're still bound, so you're at his whim right now. "Toji's workin' on releasing that video publicly. How could the wealthiest CEO of Japan get away with not paying to have his daughter back safely?"

You pursed your lips together, trying to think rationally. None of this felt real. Your heart stuttered in your chest. Would your dad pay to get you back if he risked ruining his reputation?

If he ruined his reputation, companies would pull their stocks and tank his company. It would be hard for him to form partnerships because other companies wouldn’t want to be associated with him. His perfectly curated baby would come crashing down.

He would have to pay to get you back.

Noticing the gears turning in your head, Shiu patted your hair gently with his oversized palm. “We also got a few other tricks up our sleeve. We didn’t do this on a spur of the moment decision, darling.”

They weren’t two petty criminals looking to make it big. These two men were the real deal. They had the knowledge and precision that it took to commit serious crimes. This probably wasn’t even their first ransom situation.

“Glad to know you plotted my kidnapping perfectly.” You muttered in a self-deprecating tone.

Shiu gave another chuckle as his hand stayed on your head. His touch was warm and unwavering. It had been years since someone showed you affection so casually.

“I’d say you’re in good hands, but…” He grinned at you, ruffling your hair before removing his hand. “You’re in capable hands.” He said before he slowly walked around behind you. “Be honest, darling. If I untie you, are you going to try to run?”

Your eyes lingered on the door of the Airbnb. Would you even make it far if you did run? Would it be worth being tied down for even longer? Your eyes wandered to Toji, who was sat strategically near the door. His gaze was still on the laptop, but you could tell that he could easily catch you if given the chance.

Shiu laughed as he could see the inner turmoil on your face. You really wore your emotions on your sleeve, not hiding that you were weighing the option of running. “You wanna see what’ll happen? Try it, princess.” He dared as his fingers worked to loosen the knots around your hands.

Your body was achy from the precarious position of being tied to the chair. You instinctively stretched, feeling your stiff muscles protest.

You looked back up at Shiu, registering that he was offering you to run. “Go ahead. Go.” He said as he nodded towards the door.

“If you make me run, I’m taking it out on your ass.” Toji grumbled from his position near the door. His green eyes were now glaring at you.

Against your better judgement, you ran. You had to run, even if it was clearly a setup. If you didn't try to get away, then someone would say that you wanted this to happen. You wanted to be kidnapped from your prison.

You barely made it to the door and swung it open before two strong arms wrapped around your midsection, hauling you up as if you weighed nothing.

"Fucking brat." Toji's voice rumbled in your ear as he lifted your body up, pressing your backside against his chest as he kicked the door shut.

Shiu chuckled as he made sure to lock it back. He really just enticed you to run to piss Toji off. He had to keep things interesting after all.

A grunt passed your lips as you were unceremoniously slung onto the plush bed in the room. You tried to kick and fight your way out of Toji's hold, but his hands expertly held you down and forced your arms above your head. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Here it comes... the part where you wish they would've just killed you...

The sound of metal jingling caught your attention, and you hesitantly opened your eyes to see Toji handcuffing you down to the headboard.

As soon as one of your wrists were cuffed and bound, Toji got up off of you. "Until you can learn how to behave and not be stupid." He muttered as he turned his back to you and went back to sit down.

Well, that wasn't what you were expecting.

"Technically-" You spoke up, looking between Toji and Shiu as they watched you with amused eyes. "I was behaving since he told me to run." You pointed out, nodding your head towards Shiu.

"And I told you what would happen if you did run. You're lucky I haven't bent you over my knee yet." Toji countered, crossing his arms over his chest with a lopsided grin.

"Yet-?"

"I haven't decided if I'm going to do it or not, but your smart mouth is pushing me, brat."

You swallow thickly, realizing what you were truly dealing with here. Your eyes leave Toji's figure, and you look up towards the handcuff chaining you to the bed.

You were kidnapped from one prison and brought to another, and yet, a strange voice in the back of your head is telling you that your kidnappers have better intentions with you than your own dad.

"Don't listen to him," Shiu's low voice rumbled, breaking your line of thought. "He's all bark and rarely any bite,"

"He killed all of my staff members," you retort, staring at Shiu with furrowed eyebrows. How could he act like Toji was anything less than a killing machine?

"Touché," was all Shiu responded with as he looked over at you with a relaxed grin.

Toji was back to lounging as he tilted his head back. His adams apple bobbing as he closed his eyes. He wasn't really going to sleep next to the door, was he?

Shiu had walked off out of sight, and you could hear him responding to a phone call.

Moving around on the bed, you figured you may as well get comfortable while you're trapped.

[celtrist]

GOOD END

While I know it's a little late, I needed something to practice watercolor with quickly, and I didn't want to end the little event on a sad note! Kept it vague with the "fin." since this pic could honestly just be normal Alastor haha

So let's give Alastor a happy ending, hm?

The curse is lifted but Alastor still finds it difficult. To go from being on edge from the watchful eyes of anyone who passes him to no one batting an eye is hard to grasp sometimes. Alastor still jots in his notebook the new habits of those he's around, he still checks the time frequently with his trusty pocketwatch, and he still keeps as far away from Vox as he can. However, Alastor sleeps more soundly now.

Everyone was quite aghast when their minds cleared. Charlie tries to constantly make it up to Alastor with gifts and things to do for him, which does the opposite effect due to that being not too dissimilar to what she did when she was obsessed. Vaggie's distrust of Alastor is more prevalent than any sort of affection for him, but she generally tries to keep herself away from Alastor. Her stomach never sits right around him, seeing the subtle frantic gaze of his eyes and knowing it was in part due to her. Due to the traps, the forced dressings. Just the forcefulness of her obsessed half unnerves her as a whole. While she doesn't exactly like Alastor, she also can't stand what she had done to him. She tries to pretend it didn't happen until Alastor confronts her at some point.

Angel Dust tries to stay casual with Alastor but backs off when Alastor clearly needs it. And he pushes others, really just Charlie, to back off when Alastor is looking overwhelmed. Angel is still a bit awkward around Alastor, having the same issue as Vaggie and feeling unwell about drugging him. But unlike Vaggie, Angel is willing to push past it and try to make a new friendship with Alastor if he'd welcome it (or at least acquaintanceship). Husk is definitely left with mixed feelings. He obviously doesn't like Alastor due to the man's treatment of Husk before and after the curse was broken. But he can't help but feel like shit for what he was doing to Alastor when he was obsessed. He tells himself Alastor probably deserved it because of how crappy he treats him and due to how sick in the head Alastor is overall anyway. But it always comes back to the feeling that Husk can't quite absolve his actions. He was the type to despise spiking drinks and to top on it all the other shit Alastor had to deal with? Husk doesn't like it, but he had to admit he was guilty and even sorry for what he did. He doesn't make that known to Alastor though, lest he has more fuel to taunt Husk with. Even if in reality he probably could do with a confidence boost. Husk and Angel also have a better relationship. The thing that made them heated with each other is now the thing they bond over. They each talk out their frustrations of what they did and keep an eye on each other if they see the other falling back to old habits.

Niffty on the surface seemed relatively unaffected. She giggles at what Alastor went through and expressed jealousy about having "all the bad boys" after him. Niffty does dust off Alastor a lot more now. Especially after someone touches him. She also doesn't climb onto Alastor like she used to. She asks him for permission a lot more for cleaning his room, touching him, and so on. Lucifer keeps away even more than Vaggie. He practically lived in his tower. It wasn't until ALASTOR was the one coming to him that Lucifer began actually coming back out. Of course Charlie visited to try and encourage him out, but Lucifer didn't want to even be in the same hallway as Alastor due to the guilt he felt. Due to this, Alastor ended up just coming into Lucifer's room unannounced to escape the others (most notably the too apologetic Charlie). No one would expect him in Lucifer's room, so that's where he went. And since Lucifer HAPPENED to be in his room, Alastor might as well rant about any annoyances he has or vent things out. Needless to say, they actually have quite the companionship now. While they still have gripes with each other, Alastor and Lucifer will willingly stand next to each other. Alastor still is hesitant to go full jabbing mode and does still reel in their fighting quite a bit. A habit that hasn't quite gone away from the curse. Lucifer, on the other hand, while can get into it in the heat of the moment, is a bit hesitant to be harsh with Alastor. Since the curse was lifted, Lucifer went from one of his least favorite hotel residents to the one he probably spends the most time with.

Rosie of course feels just awful about what she'd done. Any lunches done, they either go out or Alastor makes the lunch. She fusses over him still, which always leaves Alastor stiffer than comforted. When she does notice him feeling under the weather, Alastor is very quick to brush it off as nothing in such a way that it clearly indicates it's something. Rosie tries to keep to Alastor's comfort but also is definitely one of the few that isn't particularly afraid to push his comfort zone. Both Valentino and Velvette were annoyed. Valentino was upset that Alastor had the power to make even the moth obsessed with him, and he didn't even GET the chance to have even a peck on the lips from the dumb deer. While Valentino isn't nearly as interested in Alastor, he's not blind- Well, he can see well enough that Alastor is appealing visually. So he's not nearly as disgusted as Velvette about having been obsessed with him. Velvette was disgusted about having been obsessed with Alastor because he's a "dusty bitch" as it were. He's old news, obsolete, and she acted like a fool that anyone could've had an inkling of a chance to see. Disgust and embarrassment sum up her feelings, and she makes it known when she sees Alastor.

Vox... doesn't take it all well. He's frustrated and can't help but blame Alastor as if he had control of the curse. He hates him. And he blames him for the stupid feelings that STILL are there. Everything is so scrambled for him. He feels guilty, but at the same time doesn't. He refuses to feel guilt for Alastor. Even when they were "friends", Vox could remember how Alastor still seemed to think he was above him. But then, Vox had absolutely toyed with Alastor who was more or less isolated. He had wanted to do things that, while he's not exactly opposed of others doing them, he himself wasn't exactly interested in doing. Vox decided it's easier to be mad at Alastor than feel remorse and disgust with himself. When they cross paths, he's very cold to Alastor. He wants to relish how he sees Alastor clutch his staff tighter when they have eye contact, or just Vox being in the same room has Alastor moving closer to anybody else. Like he'd rather take his chances with anybody as long as it wasn't Vox. But when he tries to be pleased, something just isn't clicking and instead his head gets fuzzy and he feels like his insides need to come out. So he gives Alastor very little time of day. Maybe a few words or glances, but overall doesn't even give Alastor a cocky smile or sneer. Just an impassive look.

Despite the curse being gone, there are the occasional lapses. Particularly with those Alastor spends the most time with. All the hotel residents try to keep each other in check, Husk and Angel, for example, catching the other if they're falling back to drugging Alastor. Vaggie might see a dress and buy it, planning a way to put it on Alastor before catching herself and burning it. Charlie will hit her head telling herself to stop the obsessive thinking, sometimes to the point of hurting herself because she CAN'T put her friend through that again. On the rare occasion, it won't be caught in time. Angel Dust has successfully drugged Alastor and not long after went to get help in a panic. Alastor frequently gets more paranoid again about the curse not actually being gone and generally more cagey for a few days, especially around the person who did it. The residents try to help the best they can. These lapses aren't frequent enough to be like an everyday problem but will vary from person to person. Generally speaking, these lapses are luckily pretty short and generally don't get as far as a thought or a small subconscious action.

And despite everything, Keekee still doesn't like him. Something Alastor finds quite funny as well as comforting. While he's grateful for the curse to be gone, it still lingers here and there. And it's done damage to Alastor, he knows this in the way he can't relax, the nightmares that plague him. And sometimes he wished the curse wasn't lifted. That his nightmares and behavior were "still justifiable". That they weren't "unreasonable" now. But Keekee is the same. Disliking to kinda tolerating him when he needs the pity, the same as before. Everyone else in the hotel thinks it's odd that Alastor's smile gets wider when Keekee growls at him as he picks her up, or when she hisses and runs off from him. But they don't question it. It's the least they can do.

Alastor himself despises the pity he sees in their eyes sometimes. He hates the paranoia he still feels about it, the fear that the curse is gone was actually a dream or something momentary. And the lapses don't help much. But Alastor continues on as best he can, trying to play the confident radio demon he's touted about as for all his years. He relishes the fear in people's eyes but falls back on habits like the aforementioned noting down everyone's habits and schedules in his notebook and keeping up with the time. But he also still flirts like he used to when he thinks it's needed and gets embarrassed when it doesn't work or someone points out he doesn't need to do it. He was so used to working around and using the curse to his advantage that now those tactics are kind of pointless. He still has a difficult time taking a stroll and not feeling eyes on him constantly, and can be on edge for a sudden suitor to pop up. But he does relish the lack of attention and adoration when he can get past that anxiety. Alastor often has to talk himself through walking out of his room, assuring himself he wasn't going to get swarmed by unwanted advances. He still has days of isolation and feeling alone, moments of sudden irritation and times where the idea of doing his radio show sounds more unappealing. He has moments of insomnia or refusing sleep, just to avoid any nightmares. This often leads the other residents sort of lead him to bed or let him sleep in their presence (unintentionally by Alastor most of the time). And sometimes Alastor's feelings are overwhelming that he can feel a bit detached and just sits and tries to feel his surroundings to ground himself. He still suffers from the curse in a sense, but he's also become a lot more open to spending time with others in the hotel than before. Willing to have more bonds. He's more playful than before, but does usually keep his distance still. And while he does have a jolt in his posture if he gets hugged or touched suddenly, the stillness does pass not too long after. Alastor, strangely enough, is a lot more empathetic in a sense. He'll still laugh when he sees someone fall down the stairs, but he will also actually help and make sure they're okay. It's more notably seen with the guilt others have. He confronts each of them about it at one point and comforts them, in his own way. He doesn't sugarcoat things and tends to be a bit harsh, but Alastor certainly has a strange level of compassion (if you can call it that) you wouldn't expect from him. This is a more subtle change to him, but still prevalent nonetheless (and one Charlie is very proud about). He doesn't like it being pointed out though and will go out of his way to be awful if it DOES get pointed out. The fear from others has helped Alastor so much in regaining any confidence he may have lost, and is something he thrives with. He probably tries to use fear more than ever as a tactic to get what he wants, especially when he catches himself falling back to previous tactics of flirting. And when he can and under the right circumstances, Alastor is able to relax his muscles and end the day with a genuine smile on his face.

One thing Alastor feels quite dissatisfied with this story is the loose end. He never was able to find the anonymous caller. While it wasn't perfect, Alastor had very few outlets of actual companionship. He had his shadows (whose own sentience were put into a bit of question), Keekee (on the basis of her disliking him), and a random caller. It was by chance really. The phone in his room rang and he happened to answer. And he very quickly (and embarrassingly) became attached when he realized they weren't affected. At least, he figured, due to not actually properly meeting Alastor. So they kept in contact without giving names to one another. But the caller stopped calling at some point, leading to Alastor to just sit by his phone waiting for hours. Not one of his proudest moments, but it was a moment of weakness. As soon as the curse was lifted, Alastor had made it a personal goal of finding this mysterious phone friend. He was positively elated with the idea of meeting them face to face, as phone calls only filled so much of his need for socializing. Alas, the anonymous caller seemed to have disappeared. Alastor keeps looking, but he's not sure if something happened to them or, on the off chance, he had just imagined all the calls. He still takes the time to sit by the phone though. Just in case.

[katebishopsbaefy]

PROMPT 3. DOM BILLIE. EDGING.

NEED THIS MORE THAN AIR

prompt list

3) fully clothed x stark naked

words: 577

You squirm underneath her, but don’t get very far. Her hand is trapping your wrists over your head too firmly. You know she won’t be happy with all of your movement, but you can’t help it; not with three of her fingers pounding into you.

All you’d done was talk to some girl at a party. It meant absolutely nothing; she’d just asked if you had a girlfriend, you'd said yes, and she left. That was all it was, but Billie loves to take that kind of thing and run with it. She likes to pretend she's jealous, pretend she’s angry with you, which is how you ended up here.

She’s got you completely naked on the bed. She’d been threatening to tie you up, but you know she won’t. She wants you completely bare, even your wrists and ankles, just to make it more humiliating for you, especially considering she was still fully clothed. All she would allow was her hand pinning yours into the mattress.

“Shhh… hold still. You’re just gonna make it worse,” she murmurs lowly into your ear, continuing to fuck into you. She’s got three fingers shoved into your cunt, and that’s it. She knows it takes you forever to cum like this, with just her fingers, so it’ll make you even more frustrated. More fun for her.

“Billie-” you start to choke out. You barely even did anything wrong, and even though you know her anger is all fake, her fingers in you aren’t. 

She quickly shushes you with a particularly harsh thrust. She probably knows your body better than she knows how to spell; she knows exactly what spots make you tick, exactly what spots make you scream, exactly what spots will work you up the most. “Don’t complain. Jus’ shut up and take it, baby. Don’tchu wanna be good f’me?”

Of course, you're nodding before you can even register you are. All you want is to be good for her, even though you know you never stepped out of line in the first place. And so, to be good, like she wants, you know you have to tell her when you get close. “G-Gonna come… please…”

When she bites her lip and smiles, you know you’re fucked. She pounds into you for about ten more seconds before abruptly pulling away, leaving you trembling on the bed with wide, tearful eyes. You whine and sniffle and squirm, but she just holds you down and giggles way too sweetly for what she’s doing to you.

She watches you come down from your edge, and only when she’s sure you’re completely calm does she press her fingers back into you. They immediately find your sweet spot which is already sore from the first edge, and you have to force yourself to relax. You know you’re in for a long night of crying and lost pleasure, but you want to be good for her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she mumbles against your shoulder, starting to place open mouthed kisses to your bare skin. You can feel the material of her shirt on your chest when she leans down (which happens to be incredibly sensitive from her abuse on your nipples just before this), and it serves as a reminder of your position. She’s got complete control. You shake your head, and she grins against your shoulder. “Good. Jus’ keep bein’ good f’me. We’ll keep goin’ ‘til I think you’ve learned your lesson.”