#tell me should he get back with angel or should i make him a new love interest?

[bluecoolr]

Darrell’s Profile [Updated] and Backstory

Hounds of God

Where I talk about Darrell's home life, his first love, and the beginning of his vigilantism. I got carried away. This is about 1,400+ words. Part 1/2.

Link to Part 2

Warnings: MINORS DNI! implied (physical and sexual) abuse, religious trauma, biphobia/homophobia, mentions of masturbation

Full Name: Darrell Hosea Todd

Name Origin: Darrell - English meaning "dearly beloved"; Hosea - Hebrew meaning "salvation"; Todd - English meaning "fox", "wiley", "clever" [variant "Tod" translates to “death” in German according to google, which I find incredibly cool and fitting]

Pronouns: He/him/they/them

DOB: June 30 (approx. Late 20s - early 30s)

Birthplace: Zak, Texas

Current location: Devil's Prick ("Peak" on maps), Louisiana

Darrell was born in the small, predominantly Christian town of Zak. His father - a cold, tyrannical man - was the local preacher. His mother - a meek, submissive woman - heeded Pastor Todd’s every beck and call. For most of his early life, Darrell served in church, singing for the choir. At times, he attended services several times a week.

One summer, a building contractor came to Zak to supervise the construction of what would be Zak’s very first mini mall. The contractor brought along his son, Angel.

Angel quickly became the talk of the town. With his forward way of talking, engineer boots, leather jacket, and tight blue jeans, he could have been the Devil incarnate. Unfortunately for Pastor Todd, Angel took an interest in Darrell. It wasn't enough that some big city heathen was practically building a gateway to earthly temptations, some punk had to lead his eldest son astray too.

Angel taught Darrell how to ride a motor bike, using the dips and mounds at the construction site as their own private bike trail. He loaned him books (before then, Darrell had only been allowed to read the Bible) and introduced him to rock and metal music.

When Pastor Todd forbade Darrell to listen to "that devil music", Angel found a way to work around the dilemma. He called the Todds' landline, asked to speak with Darrell, and played the records through the phone.

As the months passed, Darrell and Angel grew ever closer, and Pastor Todd could do nothing about it. Angel and Darrell spent every day after school in Angel's motel room, making piercings out of paperclips and impersonating their favorite artists.

Late at night, Darrell woke to pebbles hitting his window pane. He would slip past the sash, climb down the drain pipe, and hitch a ride on the back of Angel's motorcycle.

They'd rent a movie and sit together on the threadbare rug of Angel's room. Bathed in TV light. High off the buzz of gentle rebellion. Warm from where their shoulders touched.

Darrell was seventeen. Everything felt so permanent. The world felt so small. For a moment, he felt like he could hold it in his hands.

He admired Angel. He was in awe of his outspokenness, his charm, his spontaneity; the way he seemed to have all the good Christian girls running after him. Sometimes he felt like his admiration was blurring into envy.

Was it envy? Or was it covetousness?

Looking back, his best memories were with Angel. No number of beatings, no amount of food denied could ever make him stay away.

"Sodomite," his father would snarl. His own dear mother would speak ill of him to whoever would listen, washing her hands of him. He felt lingering stares on his back when he walked to class.

People would snicker, "The preacher almighty's got a faggot for a son! The Lord does work in mysterious ways."

Darrell couldn't bear the shame, couldn't bear to think what Angel thought of him. After weeks of avoiding him, Angel finally confronted him.

The pebbles hitting the window pane told Darrell he was outside. He lifted the sash and let Angel climb in.

"What's eatin' ya, Darr?" he asked.

Angel assured Darrell he didn't care what other people thought. He was, however, concerned about the bruises. There were so many now. Darrell didn't know what to say.

One late afternoon, when the house was empty, Darrell laid in bed. Angel was on his belly beside him. In the light of the sun, Darrell's eyes looked like pools of honey. His skin was covered with a dusting of golden freckles.

Angel raised himself up on his elbows. He peered into Darrell's face, tracing every curve, every line. He pushed aside the longish blonde hair, his fingertips brushing the smooth quickly-reddening cheek underneath.

Darrell's heart was a bird violently beating itself against the cage of ribs. The air was knocked from his lungs when he felt Angel's lips on his.

Angel started to scuttle away, frightened that he had read it all wrong, but Darrell took his face in his hands and pulled him back in. They kissed once, twice. By the third time, Darrell was crying.

He was a mess of fear and love, of guilt and relief.

"Don't cry," Angel gently whispered. "It's ok. Everything's ok."

For a while it was, until Pastor Todd found them cuddling in bed and ripped them apart. He grabbed Darrell by the shirt and shoved him into a cupboard, locking him in.

He had no idea how long he had been there. It felt like a lifetime. It might have been. When he was finally let out, Angel was gone. His father had taken him out of Zak, as Pastor Todd had threatened to kill him. There were no goodbyes, no last words.

Pastor Todd made Darrell enlist in the US Marines. "Maybe there," he said begrudgingly, "You'll get fixed."

When Darrell was 20, he was dishonorably discharged. Whenever anyone asked him why, he says it was because of an altercation or a misunderstanding with his commanding officer. Some leave it at that. Others seemed to sense something was off.

He couldn't go back to his family. What would they say when they found out why he had been let go? So, he left and found his way to Louisiana. He tried to shake off everything that reminded him of his life in Zak and the Marines. He grew and dyed his hair, pierced his lip, he ate what he wanted, he stopped going to church. If he had to listen to another preacher's hypocritical sermon, he might really go to prison for murder.

He was homeless for a while, until he was taken in by a lady he worked with at a diner. She became a mother figure, who helped him get back on his feet. She taught him how to cook. Many of her dishes are still his favorite things to eat.

Not long after, though, the lady moved away to live with her relations out west. Help came in the form of Earl, a coworker of Darrell's at a mechanic shop. His cousin, Tyler, was selling his trailer at a bargain price. He was moving to Kentucky or someplace and needed some fast cash. Definitely not because he was involved in anything illegal.

Darrell took up the offer, and even bought a dirt bike from one of Earl's many cousins. It had the proper fixtures to be driven on the interstate and public roads. The keys came with a magic 8 ball on the chain.

Darrell has lived in Devil's Prick and worked at the nearby Gas-N-Go ever since. All by his lonesome. With nothing but Earl, his brother, Dan, and the feral hogs for neighbors.

Darrell liked being alone for a while, but there was a yearning inside him he couldn't quite place. He felt it in his bones. He felt it in his heart. Most of the time he felt like there was a hole running through him, and he went around trying to fill it like a man starved.

He finds comfort in the arms of women he met in bars the next town over, but none of them ever want to pursue anything serious. He hated to see them leave. Hated to be left alone in another dingy motel bed.

He masturbates a lot because of this. He's tried pornography but he always feels dirty afterwards - like an intruding voyuer. There are pictures tacked to the wall that he has for that specific purpose. None of them were crass. They are, frankly, works of art. There are three drawings by Klimt and a painting of Saint Sebastian.

At work, he kept to himself, minded his own business, but reached a tipping point when a man hit his wife in the store. At first, he had qualms about intervening. He shook the magic 8 ball that hung idly on his belt loop.

"Should I do something?"

"Yes, definitely."

[agirlsguidetolove]

I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

[sugume]

LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru

IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year

( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited

Word count - › 1.6K

“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 

“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 

“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  

It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 

—

“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  

“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 

“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 

“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 

“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 

“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  

He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  

“Really?” 

“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  

“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 

—

Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 

“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 

You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 

Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 

“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  

“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 

He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 

“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  

You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 

“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  

“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 

“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 

“Yea?” 

“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 

He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 

“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 

He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  

“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 

You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 

“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  

“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  

“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 

“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 

You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 

“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 

“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 

“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 

The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  

“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 

“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 

[luveline]

could you write plss write something about JJ’s confession and spencer is with bombshell reader and loves her entirely but she gets extremly scared and insecure??

Your usual confidence is shaken after JJ’s confession, but Spencer is emphatically in love with you. fem, 1.5k

Spencer gives you a rundown after every case. Not just as a colleague who missed it, but as his partner who he loves. This one comes out slowly. Maybe even reluctantly. 

He’s recounting the moment JJ had been forced to tell a secret. “She told me she’s always loved me, but that things are too complicated now.” 

You freeze in total bewilderment, your mug of hot tea swelling over the rim to warm your fingers. Further overwhelmed, you set it down on the coffee table. 

You’re in pyjamas on the couch. Spencer sits in sweatpants on the other end of it, his own cup of tea in hand. He’s watching you carefully. You’d felt generously comfortable only moments ago, riding the high of his continued survival, but now you’re feeling sick.. 

“She told you she loves you?”  

“That she was too scared to tell me before.” 

“And what do you think about that?” 

“I think if I never met you, I would’ve spent half of my life calling after her.” His lips quirk into one of those typical awkward Spencer smiles. “What should I think?” 

“I can't really tell you what to think, Spencer.” 

If he never met you, he’d still want JJ? Or if you weren’t in the way, he’d be with her now? Or what? 

You’ve never been the insecure type, to begin. You met Spencer when you were both rookies trying to establish themselves in the BAU, Spencer as a new member, and you as a hopeful applicant. Each time you liaised, or came around to annoy your good friend Derek Morgan, Spencer would be there, looking cute and lonely as ever. It was easy to become his friend. Easier again to fall in love with him. 

Not easy to convince him you truly wanted to be with him, but you were persistent, and… honestly, you’ve never been in love with someone like you have Spencer. That’s why JJ’s confession sends ice water down your back. 

He lets you steep for a few minutes, but ultimately can’t take the weird silence. 

“Hey,” he says, clear worry in his tone as he puts his own mug on the coffee table and moves to sit beside you, his hand falling onto your knee. “Hey, what’s that face about?” 

“What face?” you ask, schooling your expression. 

“That face.” His head tips to the side. 

“I’m not making a face.” 

“I know you…” he says, a tenderness to him as his hand slips under your leg, his fingers pressing into the softest skin behind your knee. 

“What else did she say?” 

He nods with understanding. “She said she was too scared to say it before, and that things are complicated now, I guess because everything’s changed so much.” 

“She has a family.” 

“Angel, even if she didn’t, you think that would make a difference?” He finds your hand for kissing. “What do you think I said to her? I love you. I told her I love you, she already knew that, but I told her again. I said there’s nothing complicated about it.” 

You stare at him. 

“Nothing complicated about it,” he repeats, pressing your kissed hand to his neck and covering it soundly with his own.  

You’re not expecting the insecurity of it. You and Spencer have never been on surer footing. Every day with him seems to guarantee the next. He just has to look at you and you know he’s your person, but you forgot he could just love somebody else if he wanted to. You forgot he even liked JJ to begin with. This sudden reminder is like having your legs kicked out from under you. 

You panic. 

“I love you,” he says, your hand moving down, pressed with fever to his chest. “More than anyone.” 

“I love you too… I just– I guess I thought JJ was my friend,” you say. 

“She is. She said she needed something that would shock the UnSub… I don’t think she expected anything to change. We just needed to get out of there.” 

He almost died and you’re thinking about JJ. Shit, JJ could’ve died. 

You bow your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, no, for what? For what?” He sandwiches you to his side. “I’m sorry, it’s not fair. It puts you in a bad position. But you don’t have anything to worry about, I love you, and I don’t have any feelings for JJ.” 

You wonder if that’s true. 

You’re being unlike yourself. Embarrassed, you hide your face in his collar and let him hug you gently. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I have no idea what to do right now.” 

Insecurity isn’t your style, but it’s not something that can be helped. You have, through everything, pioneered desperately to put your best foot forward. You wear clothes ordered to fit and then tailored for good measure, you take care of your appearance in a way that others might find objectionable. Who you are outwardly is just as important to you as the inward, which makes this all the worse. You hate being out of control. 

Spencer can make it better, despite his insistence on cluelessness. “You know it could never be anyone else but you, right?” he asks softly. 

“Sorry, I’m just… I’m not angry because she didn’t have a choice, but do you really believe she didn’t mean it? She could’ve made up a hundred different lies.” 

“I think she meant it,” he says, still speaking softly. 

“You understand why that would freak me out, right? If you never met me, you could be with her.” 

“I can’t imagine a universe where we don’t meet,” he says. 

Spencer delivers it with that sincere yet shy honesty that he tends to say many things. Like it’s simple, like he’s aware of how cleanly cut it is, and like he’s worried you won’t agree with him. 

You try not to act so small, straightening your back, and sewing an arm behind his neck and over his shoulder. You’re not feeling a hundred percent just yet, and so you press your forehead to his cheek, his hair kissing your  ear. Spencer drags your leg across his thigh and lets you stew for a little while. 

“I don’t want to be with JJ.” He squeezes you closer, nearly has you in his lap. “Is that what you’re worried about? If I never met you, I wouldn’t want to be with her, because she had no interest in me, or– or maybe she did, but she didn’t show it. I know exactly what it feels like now to be loved without remorse, to– to never be told I’m too much. JJ is one of my best friends in the whole world, but you’re my heart. You’re the only person who’s ever liked me for me, all of me, even when I know it wasn’t easy.” 

“It’s always easy,” you murmur.

“That’s not the only reason I love you, but it’s important. JJ’s smart and she’s beautiful and she’s such a good mom, but she’s not you. She could never be you, and I don’t want anyone that isn’t you.” 

You don’t want him to say cruel things about JJ and you’re glad when he doesn’t, but you definitely need his assurance that he prefers you. Then you feel silly, because it’s your bed he comes home to, your hip he’s caressing as he waxes poetic for you. 

You feel less like he doesn’t love you and more like you’ve made a fool of yourself for even suggesting it. “Am I your best friend?” you ask (childishly, depending on who you ask). 

“You’re my best friend. You’re the best friend. Every day I get to be with you is perfect.” 

“That’s really romantic,” you mumble, nearly not quite kidding as you rub the tip of your nose into his cheek. 

“You bring it out of me.” 

You sigh and wrap your arms around him tightly. “Thanks, Dr. Reid. I think you fixed me.” 

“You’re still making a face.” 

“You almost died today, baby. JJ isn’t the sole thing on my mind.” 

“Almost died is an exaggeration. We almost die all the time.” 

You sniff his hair at your discretion. When he holds you like he’s doing now, you realise you have no need to worry. How can he squeeze your soft sides and chase your nose with his if he doesn’t mean what he says? Spencer’s not like that. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” you say. 

“I don’t think you did. But would you feel better if I say it’s okay? Because it’s okay. I’m sorry for telling you something I knew would upset you, but we don’t–”

“Have secrets, I know.” 

You give him a teeny kiss by his ear. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs pleasantly. 

You press another right on top of the first. Slower, you peel away to stroke his hair. His eyes hold all the proof you need —you’re loved without competition. 

[selineram3421]

can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)

*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!

Hissy Kitty

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠

Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.

Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.

He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.

"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.

"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.

"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.

"Husker!"

Shit.

He was pissed that he was too late.

"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."

"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.

You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"

Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.

"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.

After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.

How interesting..

"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"

"I'm-"

"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."

"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.

Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.

"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"

"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"

Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.

"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"

"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.

"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.

"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.

"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.

"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"

"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"

The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.

"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."

"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.

"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."

"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.

"Only for a few hours!", he replied.

You stayed longer than a few hours.

Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.

Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.

"So Husky~", Angel slid over.

"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.

"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"

"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.

.

"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.

"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"

You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.

"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.

"What.", your brother growled.

"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"

"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.

"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."

The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.

"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."

"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.

"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"

You were near Alastor most of the day.

Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.

"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.

All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.

"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."

"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."

Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.

"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.

"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.

The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.

"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.

"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.

The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."

"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.

"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.

The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.

Oh how entertaining~

I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾

[ak4e7a]

making him a daddy —- enha hyung line

if you haven’t read my mother’s day special, Men I Love Fucking, click here first!

cw: all of it. all. humiliation, lactation, filming, degradation, dom!hyung line. daddy kink galore. if you don’t have one rn, you’re about to get one!

a/n: belated hbd nessa :3 jay is for u and u only <3 sorry to my freakhoon believers for edging you with this for like two weeks, it will happen again

minors dni, 18+ only.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿˚₊

heeseung literally cannot stop fucking you ever since you got pregnant—or maybe a little before that, but he’ll never admit it. what started as a one night stand when your best friend, his sister, was asleep and you “accidentally” walked in on him fucking his fist in his room quickly became a friends-with-benefits situation… or so you thought.

“fuck, baby,” he groans in your ear, his voice low so as to not make too much noise. after all, your best friend is, once again, asleep in the next room. he slides his cock in between your folds. “you keep getting so wet for me, how can i stay away from you?”

except… he kind of has to stay away from you, when you tell him you’re actually dating someone now. someone who isn’t him. heeseung doesn’t take the news too well, and honestly, he’s valid for that. he’s pissed off, to say the least.

“carrying my fucking baby and you’ve got the nerve to be with someone else?” he growls, hips smacking into your ass roughly. you clutch harder onto the pillow you’re holding, tears prickling in your eyes as he pounds into your cunt, one hand over your mouth.

“seungie—” you gasp when he moves his hand down to pinch at your swollen tits.

he tsks in your ear. “uh-uh, little bunny. that’s not what you should be calling me right now.”

“hee—” your moans are getting harder to contain as you get dangerously close to your climax. heeseung can tell, too, and he slows down his movements, even going so far as to cup your little baby bump.

“nope. try again,” he demands, the lazy drag of his cock along your gummy walls making your eyes cross in pleasure. he gives you one rough thrust when you hesitate, skimming his hand down to press right above your mound so he can feel his cock from the outside, causing you to cry out,

“daddy!”

“there we go, mama. that wasn’t so hard, was it? now tell me again. who’s your fucking daddy?”

———

jay put a ring on your finger literally hours after you showed him your positive pregnancy test. he damn near bought the entire jewelry store for you—that’s how happy he was, knowing he’d finally succeeded in successfully knocking you up. and now, in your second trimester, you’re just as happy. sprawled out on the silk sheets of your shared bed, your fiancé shows you exactly just how much he adores you.

“jay,” you whimper, staring into his eyes. his hands hold himself up above you, caging your head in. you can feel the cold metal of his rolex watch graze against your cheek as he nudges himself inside you. “i love you…”

“i love you more,” he coos back. he lets out a hiss as he bottoms out, balls pressed snugly against your ass. “my princess.”

you wiggle underneath him, desperately trying to move your hips for more friction. “need you, please, need more!”

“you have all of me, angel,” he chuckles, breath warm on your skin, the scent of his cologne flooding your sense of smell. “what more could i give you?”

you both know he’s teasing you—and torturing himself while he does it. jay has to give into you eventually. he always does, no matter what it is. his soft brown eyes flicker downwards, transfixed on the way your tits bounce as he starts to fuck you open, his thrusts somehow both gentle and rough.

you don’t even have time to ask him what he’s doing or why he’s staring so intently when he ducks his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth and starts sucking… but it feels different this time, the sensation forcing your orgasm closer and closer. then it clicks for you. jay’s been so entranced by the way your tits have started to grow, he’d been hanging off of your every word that morning when you were complaining that you’d started lactating and needed to buy new bras.

excited at this revelation, you tease him back. “tastes good, daddy?”

you know calling him that specific name makes him rock hard. you can literally feel him somehow grow bigger inside you, forcing your walls to stretch open some more for his cock. he throbs inside you, hips stilling when he pushes his cock all the way down to the hilt, tip kissing your cervix.

“want more, daddy?” you purr, pushing your chest closer to his face. he doesn’t give you an answer, but as you feel your milk leak into his hot mouth, you take that as an enthusiastic yes.

“thank you for making me a daddy, angel girl,” he mumbles before latching on again and sucking—hard.

———

jake is absolutely nasty. besotted with his best friend’s mother? but you’re hot as fuck, can anyone blame him? can anyone truly blame him when you’ve got him on his knees, eating your pussy from behind while he strokes his cock?

“feels good, mommy?” he moans, his voice partially muffled between your legs. his nose nudges between your folds, and you gasp at how fucking messy he’s being. you don’t think this boy could get any more depraved until you feel his veiny hands grab at your asscheeks and shake them into his face.

“good, so good!” you sob into your pillow, pushing your pussy towards his tongue.

he pulls away from you, ignoring your cries of protest, grabbing his phone from where it's recording you two on the nightstand.

“need to get you on camera up close, mommy. wanna film it so i can watch it later when i need you.”

“jakey—” you begin, but you’re cut off when he begins to push the tip of his cock past your soaked folds.

“no, shh, mommy. ‘m so fuckin’ close, i gotta breed you now, wanna cum in you so bad. will you let me?”

you nod, turning your head just enough to make eye contact with your lover as he pushes himself inside you. he’s got the most fucked out, pussy drunk expression in his face, pretty eyes half lidded, pretty mouth formed in a euphoric O-shape.

“c’mon, mommy, rub your clit for me,” he whines, pumping his cock into you. "’n if i'm calling you mommy, might as well make me a daddy while we're at it, yeah? does mommy want my cum?”

“yes, please, please cum in me!” you squeal, overstimulated as you rub your clit while jake pounds against your g-spot.

“ask me properly, mommy,” he suddenly growls, fucking you harder and harder so he can cum.

“daddy, please! want your cum!”

he gives it to you, he really does. he cums deep into your cunt and pulls out, making sure that the camera catches it on film as his cum leaks out of you and down your thighs.

“hm. looks like we should try one more time just to be sure, right, mommy?”

———

sunghoon has been in a mood recently. a very particular mood; one that has you pinned on the bed in a mating press every night when he comes home from work. you’ve noticed lately that your younger boyfriend— “i’m only three years younger than you,” he likes to argue— has taken a liking to wearing neckties to work, knotting them over the collar of his pristine white button down shirts that fit so nicely over his muscular arms.

now his black prada tie is knotted around your wrists, stacked behind your back while you’re draped over his lap, squirming uncontrollably, skirt flipped up to expose you to him.

"oh, these are cute, baby. you wear them for me? you look so pretty in pink."

you hum in response and he spanks you right where you need him most.

"that's not an answer, brat. use your words."

"y-yes sunghoon! 's for you!!"

he's so condescending when he replies, "what a smart little girl you are. manipulative little brat. wearing my favorite color, acting all whiny and desperate for me since you begged me to come home early from work not one hour ago..."

"you're the one who came running," you snap back, annoyed at his teasing. wrong move. he effortlessly lifts you up off his lap and onto the bed. he pushes your panties to the side and slides his cock inside you all the way, with no time for you to ease into the stretch.

"you fucking brat. am i gonna have to punish you all night to put you in your place? want me to fuck you and dump my load in your pathetic little cunt and leave you to finish yourself off? because i will, little girl. don't forget who's the only one who can make you cum this hard."

you try to fuck yourself on his cock and he's not having it at all. "brat, what did i just say? disobedient fucking slut, all you want is my cock. apologize to me and beg, and maybe i'll make you squirt all over me and this fucking bed."

"s-sorry hoonie..."

his hand comes crashing down on your ass.

"pathetic. try again, pretty."

"i'm sorry daddy, i'm sorry for being a brat!"

"fucking hell, princess, you beg so sweetly. you want me to fuck you full of my cum? want me to knock you up and parade you around in front of everyone, let them know who you belong to?"

you pout at him, batting your eyelashes the way you know he can't resist. "please, daddy?”

“that’s a good girl. you better remember who’s in charge the next time you wanna brat out on me, hm?”

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Epilogue

doll!sunghoon x doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), threesome, unprotected sex, cream pie, eiffel tower, oral (m&f.rec), deep throating, doggy, soft dom!hoon/sub!jake, hoon&jae don't get it on but there is one kiss, cum plugging, nipple play, angst, mentions of heaven/hell, not a lot of jongseong (sorry jay lovers!) wc: 22k synopsis: you and jaeyun return to the house that started it all, however you didn't realise the impact that leaving would have on the demon you left behind, leaving you with a choice to make, and both involve visiting heeseung's room just one more time. heeseung | masterlist | a/n: hi! so if you haven't been keeping up with me or my blog then this epilogue will surprise you but with everyone wishing for just one more chapter i thought why not do an epilogue? i tried to give everyone an ending they deserved so i hope you all like it! likes, reblogs, feeback, comments are all appreciated as always! thank you so much for the love on tdh

“Y/N, can you please tell Jaeyun that this is a communal space,” Mia exasperates, pointing over to the doll and the current tornado of clothes lying over the living room floor. 

There are clothes everywhere; tops on the sofa, trousers on the carpet, and his underwear messily splayed over the small dining table situated in the corner of the room, the very location Mia happens to be as she tries to eat her lunch.

Mia and Jaeyun have developed a love-hate relationship over the past three months. To be honest, this wasn’t the problem you thought you would have when you told Mia that you are soulfully attached to a doll that is possessed by your should-have-been guardian angel. That was already a massive hurdle to overcome but you thought that maybe they could become friends once they get to know one another properly.

Unfortunately, Jaeyun holds a grudge, her words from her last visit to the mansion still stinging his heart, and Mia has never been a fan of dolls or supernatural entities living amongst the living. 

“He is WHAT?” Mia exclaims with her jaw slack enough to catch flies.

You look at Jaeyun who is standing one foot behind you, still wary of telling her, “He’s alive. Surprise!” you smile awkwardly, jazz-handing your way out of explaining any further about the situation you have found yourself in.

Mia turns pale, stumbling backwards and collapsing onto the table behind you, her body desperately seeking support. You understand it's overwhelming; after all, you weren’t prepared to handle such news back then either. Granted, a mere 20 minutes later your mouth was being stuffed with his doll cock so there wasn’t that much time to process.

“Y/N, you need to get that freak of nature back to his creepy dollhouse,” she quivers, pointing accusingly at Jaeyun.

“It’s not a dollhouse, it’s a house that dolls live in,” Jaeyun clarifies, rolling his glass eyes in annoyance.

And from there, it has been bicker after bicker between them.

You haven't told Jaeyun about his true background and who he was meant to be, knowing the others withheld this information for a good reason. Staying with him has revealed his true personality to you - a fragile soul not yet ready to face the harsh realities of his tragic death and his actual purpose in life. It might be selfish to keep this from him, but he's happy as he is. Why shatter that peace?

Besides, you would hate for him to see his brothers differently. The love he has for them is so pure that you can't bear to ruin it.

"This is actually mine and Y/N's place. You're just crashing here because your boyfriend dumped you and kicked you out," he retorts, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"It'll be your place once you start paying rent. Ever thought of mannequin work? You'd love it - they stick a metal pole right up your a-"

"Enough, you two," you interject firmly, quelling the rising tension. Memories of the last altercation flood your mind—it was not a pretty sight when Mia attempted to break his arm and toss it out the window. "Baby doll, can you hurry up and pack? We promised Soonyeol we'd be there by 2pm at the latest," you say softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Nodding, Jaeyun bounds over the clothes, finally picking what he wants to wear. The way he was packing, you would think that you were staying at the mansion for a week, not just an overnight trip.

You had planned this trip for Jaeyun because it was so evident how much he was missing them all. He was on the phone to them every night, particularly Sunghoon, and once he hung up the phone he would look dejected and eagerly anticipate the next time it was appropriate to phone. One time, he was on the phone so long that you went to bed when it started and woke up just as it ended.

Of course, it's natural for him to miss them; it's all he's ever known in this existence. Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for taking him away from his home, but you also recognise that it would have hurt you both even more if you were apart, especially considering Jongseong's previous warning about being unlinked to your guardian angel. Moreover, he wanted to come of his own accord, and you've made it abundantly clear that he's free to leave whenever he wishes.

As you watch him pack, a sense of warmth fills your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, you're grateful for every moment you get to spend with him. And as you prepare for this trip, you can't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him reunited with his loved ones.

You would also be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to seeing them again.

"Are you almost ready, baby doll?" you ask softly, unable to hide the loving smile tugging at your lips.

He scrambles to fit in some final pieces, doing a quick verbal checkover before clicking his fingers in realization. "Two minutes! I forgot my sunscreen," he says before darting up the hall to rummage through the bathroom cabinet.

"You're made of plastic!" Mia yells at him, clearly flabbergasted, then turns to you. "Is he serious?"

"Be kind, you know how he is. Plus, he's made from thermoplastic elastomer, not plastic. You know this," you reply with a gentle chuckle, understanding Jaeyun's quirks all too well.

Ever since you brought him home, Jaeyun has been determined to be as human as possible, eagerly picking up traits and characteristics to blend in seamlessly. You often find him engrossed in binge-watching sitcoms and movies, the TV becoming his best friend as he tries to grasp human behaviour. After all, the only human he had ever come into contact with before you was Soonyeol, and everything he learned about cities and people was through her and some old books.

Exploring outside with you has been an adventure, though he requires glasses and a bit of contour to give his complexion a more lifelike appearance. So far, your cautious outings to the shops or bustling hubs of people have kept you inconspicuous.

You made it clear to Jaeyun that the last thing you wanted was for him to feel trapped in your flat, understanding the toll it took on your mental health all those months ago. Thus, you both make a concerted effort to integrate him into society, ensuring he experiences the world beyond the confines of your home. 

Once he comes back and packs his unnecessary sunscreen and an extra-extra pair of socks, he is ready to go, the excitement on his face evident as you both say goodbye to Mia and head back to the house that started it all.

_____

The crackle of gravel under your tyres fills the air, and suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. Is it odd to feel nostalgic for a place you were in just three months ago? Shouldn't that sentiment be reserved for moments like childhood memories of playing in a friend's backyard at age six?

Bringing the car to a stop, you gaze ahead and notice that the moss and bushes have been trimmed, giving the exterior a more manicured appearance. The daisy bush is still intact, if not more beautiful than the last time you set eyes on it. It's a subtle change, but it speaks volumes about the passage of time since you visited the place Jaeyun called home. 

You glance at Jaeyun and find the brightest smile lighting up his face, his left leg bouncing in eager anticipation. With a gentle touch, you tuck some of his hair behind his ear, pulling him from his trance of happiness. His leg stills as your touch renders him relaxed. "You ready, baby doll?"

He nods, clasping his large hand over yours, bringing your palm to his plump lips and kissing it gently. "Are you? I think that's the big question here," he replies, sensing your apprehension about returning to the mansion. It’s the downside to having a soulmate that feels your emotions with you, you can’t ever hide when you’re upset or nervous.

It's not that you don't want to see everyone; it's the simple thought of what if Jaeyun wants to stay here again? Being in the city with you could have been a nice holiday for him, but what if he decides he wants to go back to Soonyeol as soon as he sets eyes on her?

He doesn't have friends back in the city; he only has you. Sometimes, you wonder if that's enough for him. Soulmates or not, a person cannot survive solely on the love of one other person. He needs a network, and unfortunately, that network is here in this mansion.

You assure him with a grin and a nod, feeling the warmth of his affection as he presses his knuckles to your lips once again, sealing his love for you inside of it, reassuring you even only slightly. Together, you step out of the car and walk up to the grand front doors, the nervousness in your body different from when you arrived on your first day on shift.

Reaching out, you raise your hand to knock on the door, your heart beating just a little faster with each passing moment. This visit could change everything, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead fills you with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

A minute of silence passes before the door swings open, revealing Soonyeol with her cheery grin and bright energy. She looks as beautiful as ever, her long hair and pretty sundress almost making you curse at yourself for wearing a pair of shorts and an old band t-shirt that has faded in its whiteness from frequent wear.

Jaeyun lets go of your hand and leaps forward, embracing her tightly. His excitement is palpable, and you can't help but smile at the sight of their reunion, even if a pang of insecurity tugs at your heart. You step back slightly, giving them space, watching the reunion with a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. 

There's happiness for Jaeyun, seeing him reunited with someone who clearly means so much to him. But there's also a twinge of uncertainty, a fear that perhaps this reunion will change things between you two.

You take a deep breath, pushing aside those thoughts for now. This moment isn't about you; it's about Jaeyun seeing his found family and getting the much-needed time with them. His happiness is the upmost importance.

"Soonyeol, it's been too long," Jaeyun says, his voice filled with genuine affection as he pulls back slightly from the embrace, still holding her at arm's length.

"It really has, Jaeyun. I've missed you," Soonyeol replies, her smile softening as she looks at him.

You step forward, offering a tentative smile. "Hi, Soonyeol. It's nice to see you again."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Soonyeol reaches for your arm and pulls you into a warm hug. "Come on, Y/N, we don't need to be awkward here! You're part of the family now," she says happily, her voice filled with genuine warmth as she embraces you like a lifelong friend.

There is no weight of angst towards you in her body. She is so kind and generous that you wonder how on earth she has such a hold on Heeseung, considering someone with a pure heart like her must be the easiest target of all. 

"Thank you, Soonyeol," you say softly, grateful for her kindness.

As you pull back from the hug, she waves off your appreciation and gestures towards the inside of the house. "We're all in the living room," she comments, not offering to show you the way. It's a subtle acknowledgement of your familiarity with the mansion; after all, if anyone knows this house as well as she does, it's you.

With a nod of understanding, you follow her lead and step inside, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you reenter the familiar surroundings of the mansion. It’s strange how easy it is to fall back into place as soon as you cross the threshold; you’re almost seconds away from grabbing the green feather duster again.

You roll your case across the mahogany floor as you walk towards the living room, marvelling at the once creepy, dark walls with a sense of fondness. You missed this place more than you will ever admit to anyone, the tranquillity of it all was missed on nights of sirens and drunken shouting just outside your flat.

Jaeyun doesn't seem to mind the hustle and bustle surrounding him. In fact, he's fascinated by it, curious as to why so many people are in such a rush to skip through life when there's so much of the world they're missing. Whether their noses are buried in their phones or they simply don't care to interact with one another, Jaeyun sees the beauty in every moment.

If there were an award for chatterboxes, Jaeyun would undoubtedly win it. From the moment you realised he could converse, you knew he had a lot to say. Every day, he fills the air with his thoughts and musings, and you couldn't love it more. You are aware that his past got swiped from his memory, but it's truly as if he's experiencing his first life.

Yet, you can't help but wish he could speak to more than just you and Mia when he's back home with you. The world is full of people he could connect with, and you want nothing more than for him to experience the joy of making new friends and sharing his boundless enthusiasm with others. A person as pure and joyful as him should be able to enrich people's lives the way he has yours.

Reaching the living room, Jaeyun takes your free hand and squeezes it, prompting you to turn to him.

"Hmm?" you ask, tilting your head as you catch his soft expression.

"I love you, you know that right? You know I'm not going anywhere if it's not with you," he says earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. His serious tone leaves no room for doubt; he means every word.

Jaeyun may exude the excitement of a puppy who loves being looked after, but he's also incredibly understanding of your own needs. He knows that sometimes you need verbal reassurance, especially now that you’re diving back into the complexities of life at the mansion. While it's easy to pretend to be just another normal couple back in the city, here you're acutely aware of the history that lingers in the halls and the events that transpired.

With a soft smile, you squeeze his hand back, feeling a rush of gratitude for his unwavering love and support. "I know, Jaeyun. And I love you too. More than you'll ever know," you reply, your voice filled with affection. 

Jaeyun leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before releasing your hand. "Let's go join the others, if they’re anything like me then they’re literally dying to see you.”

Walking into the room, you notice Jongseong entering through the back garden almost simultaneously with you and Jaeyun. His presence halts you all to a stop, and a warm smile spreads across your face, reaching your ears.

"Princess," Jongseong greets you, setting down the shears in his hand before striding briskly toward you. His arms open wide as he approaches, and before you know it, he's lifting you up and spinning you around, eliciting a delighted giggle from your lips.

"Hi, Jongseong," you greet him warmly, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. There's a sense of joy and ease in his presence that never fails to lift your spirits. Throughout your time in the mansion, he was always your backbone to getting through it, living up to his guardian angel ways.

As Jongseong sets you back down, your curious gaze sweeps over his attire. "What's with the new look?" you ask quizzically, noting the departure from his usual casual clothes. He's sporting dark green overalls, stained with mud and grass, paired with a black slouch t-shirt underneath, and gardening gloves.

Jongseong spins around, giving you a full view of the outfit before bursting into laughter. Soonyeol tucks under his arm, hugging him from the side and running her hand over his broad chest.

You can’t help but wonder if Jongseong ever told her about your night on the altar, or the one in the kitchen, or the countless ones on her bed. But by the way she's acting, it seems she remains oblivious to it all. For now, you'll let her live in ignorance, choosing not to disrupt the peace.

“Jjongie suggested it,” Soonyeol explains, looking up at him with an adoring stare.

"Yeah, wouldn't want someone to prick a finger or anything on the thorns now, do we?" Jongseong's voice carries a playful tone as he makes jabs at your past experiences with the garden.

Since your departure, he's come to realise that there's so much more to life that Soonyeol could be enjoying. Heeseung may have provided her with all the material comforts and companions she desires, but Jongseong knows that true fulfilment goes beyond mere possessions and superficial fantasies. He saw it in you - someone with everything the big city life could offer, yet still yearning for more.

So, he's been spending more time with Soonyeol, teaching her to play instruments and nurturing her interest in gardening. And with Jaeyun no longer by her side like a clingy pup, her schedule has opened right up, leaving more time for Jongseong to show her the joys of a fuller, more enriched life.

Jaeyun absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your once-pricked finger, as if Jongseong mentioning it might cause you to feel the pain again. You can't help but smile at his gesture of concern. It's a small yet meaningful reminder of his caring nature, his instinct to comfort you even in the most subtle of ways.

“Jaeyun can help me actually, I have some rubble to take around to the bins if you could help me?” Jongseong suggests.

"Sure thing, Jongseong," Jaeyun replies eagerly, ever willing to lend a hand. "Lead the way."

With a nod from Jongseong, the two of them head off to tackle the task at hand, leaving you momentarily alone in the living room with Soonyeol. It's not that you don't get along with her - she's been more than welcoming to you in her home - but it's still strange to be left alone with her, unsure of what she knows about your relationship with the boys or what transpired while she was gone.

You grab Jaeyun’s suitcase and hold it next to yours, “I’ll go put these away and come through,” you smile politely, trying to avoid being in a one-on-one conversation with Soonyeol just in case you talk about how big Jongseong’s cock is and how you felt it jump when he picked you up.

"I can get one of the other boys to do that," she offers kindly, but you decline, shaking your head. "Well, Jaeyun's room is all set up if you want to set up camp there."

"Thanks, Soonyeol. I appreciate it," you reply, grateful for her understanding. With that, you make a hasty exit, eager to avoid any potentially awkward conversations for now.

_____

On your way to the room, you make a tiny little detour. Should you, considering every time you linger in places you aren’t meant to be, you end up in peculiar situations? No. Did you, because each of those peculiar situations has made you feel alive and there’s no scaring you anymore? Of course.

Standing outside the library, you twist the creaking knob and push the door open slowly. The familiar smell of old books fills your nostrils, and a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's been a while since you've been in here, and you can't help but feel drawn to the rows of dusty bookshelves, each one holding countless stories and secrets within its pages.

Sighing quietly, you step inside, letting the essence of the library envelop you. Despite the risks, there's something about this place that calls to you, beckoning you to explore its hidden treasures once more.

Perhaps it’s the literal phone to hell that brought you here first of all places in the house.

You glance over at the painting of the sheep, its head firmly back on its human shoulders but despite seeing it countless times and being fucked mercilessly on the other side of the door it shields, you can’t help but still feel some distress. It is so easy to forget about its existence when it isn’t staring back at you. 

You find yourself drawn to it, despite your better judgement. There's something about the way it seems to watch you, its eyes following your every move, that fills you with a sense of unease. You can't quite pinpoint which part of your body is drawn to coming back to it, but you hate it all the same.

“There’s still time to change your mind.”

That siren voice pierces your ears, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. Tension coils in your muscles as you recognise the voice, its allure tinged with an undercurrent of danger.

Turning slowly, you come face to face with the source of the voice, and your breath catches in your throat as you see Heeseung smirking before you. His lips glisten as he licks them, his eyes roaming all over your body with an intensity that makes you feel as though you might as well be naked.

His gaze pierces through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. There's something about the way he looks at you, a hunger in his eyes that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You swallow hard, trying to regain your composure in the face of his intense scrutiny. Despite the unease that grips you, a part of you can't deny the pull of his magnetic presence, drawing you in despite knowing better. He just has something about him that you can’t shake from your soul, like he has some weird grip on you.

With a forced calmness, you meet his gaze head-on, determined not to let him see the fear that churns within you. "Hi, Heeseung," you reply evenly, keeping your tone steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

"Hi, baby. You miss me?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as he snakes towards you with deliberate steps.

You fight the urge to succumb to his magnetic presence, to fall to your knees and let him use you as he pleases. Instead, you stand your ground, ignoring the way your spine quakes with each of his measured steps.

"You know you're tempting fate by coming back here," Heeseung says, his eyebrow raised knowingly.

His observation cuts through the air like a knife, striking a chord of truth deep within you. There's no denying the danger that lurks within the walls of this mansion, especially when it comes to Heeseung himself. The Prince of Hell was once ready to offer you everything you desired in exchange for Soonyeol's existence, and you were dangerously close to accepting.

That's the trouble with Heeseung—he always seems to know what you want, even when you try to convince yourself otherwise. Deep down, a part of you still yearns for the life he could offer you, the power and influence that come with being by his side. But you have Jaeyun now and you’re happier than ever to come home to someone who loves you more than the trees love to blow in the wind. 

"I came here because Jaeyun wanted to, not for you," you argue back, mustering all the confidence you can fake as you fix your posture.

"My sweet baby," Heeseung tuts, closing the distance between your bodies with a smoothness that makes your heart race. It's as if you're two steps away from embarking on a lovers' tango. He reaches out, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. "Are you saying you didn't miss us?" he asks, his voice low and seductive, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Of course, you missed them - all of them. But the way you missed Jongseong and Sunghoon is vastly different from the way you missed Heeseung. With Jongseong and Sunghoon, it's a deep, heartfelt longing, born out of adoration and connection. But with Heeseung, it's different - it's a craving, an addiction to the thrill of his touch and the excitement he brings to your life with a mere snap of his fingers.

You can never admit that to him, though. The truth would only complicate things further, and you've worked too hard to suppress the nightly urges to pray to him and have him sweep you away. So you keep your lips sealed and push away any thoughts connecting to the matter.

Your silence only fuels Heeseung more, the once gentle grip he had on your chin now tightening to lock you onto him. “I think about that day you snuck into my room. How you were whimpering like a dog in heat,” he ridicules, leaning dangerously close so his lips are ghosting over yours, “Do you remember? You were grinding yourself on my foot like a pathetic little bitch.”

The humiliation washes over you in waves, threatening to drown you in its wake. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your body betraying you with its response to his words. Why are you getting wet over this? It's humiliating, degrading, and pride-destroying, yet you can't deny the visceral arousal coursing through your veins.

You're on the edge, teetering dangerously close to surrendering to the desire that simmers between you and Heeseung. Part of you wants to mewl out and ask him to do it again, to succumb to the intoxicating pull of his dominance. But another part of you - the part that still clings to the fragile threads of self-respect - fights against it, struggling to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his overwhelming presence.

Before you can say another word or do anything you will live to regret, you feel someone standing at the door.

“Heeseung, Soonyeol is asking for you,” Sunghoon’s deep voice rings out like a bell of relief.

Quickly regaining your composure, you take a step back, putting some distance between yourself and the lingering echoes of your encounter with Heeseung. Sunghoon's accidental interruption may have saved you from making a decision you would regret, and for that, you're grateful.

But while you're relieved, Heeseung is clearly disgruntled. An annoyed groan escapes his lips as he rolls his eyes, his frustration is evident in his demeanour. He knows how close you were to giving in, and if he had just a sliver more time with you, he might have ensnared you like a Venus flytrap.

With a curt nod, Heeseung heads towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. But before he leaves, he turns his head to look back at you, his eyes piercing and intense.

"My offer is still on the table, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and determination. "Come find me."

His words hang in the air like a tantalising invitation, tempting you with the promise of fulfilling your deep-rooted desires.

Sunghoon clears his throat, his gentle smile a reassuring beacon in the midst of Heeseung's lingering presence. "Did you forget where the bedrooms are in your time away?" he quips, his tone light yet mindful of the heavy atmosphere.

You manage a small chuckle, grateful for the diversion. "No, just got a little sidetracked," you reply, appreciating Sunghoon's effort to ease the tension. You won’t go into detail about how you were seeking out the altar on some nostalgia tour.

Just as you're about to speak, Sunghoon smoothly takes hold of the two pieces of luggage and begins to stride towards Jaeyun's room.

"I see that snooping habit of yours is still alive and well," Sunghoon remarks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you, his tone playful.

You hum softly in acknowledgement, unable to deny the truth in his jest. Glancing around, you admire the porcelain dolls that line the hallway, their delicate features and intricate dresses catching your eye. They are so beautiful that you wonder how on earth anyone could be scared of them or find them haunting.

Sunghoon follows your gaze, his own eyes softening as he looks at the dolls you're fondly staring at. "They've missed you," he comments, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia.

"I missed them too," you admit with a wistful smile, your fingers grazing the smooth surface of one of the dolls as you walk.

Sunghoon's playful demeanour turns gentle at your confession, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "I'm sure they're glad to have you back," he replies, his voice carrying a note of sincerity, “I know I am.”

His admission brings your attention back to him, but his stare quickly averts, darting around the corridor as if looking for an escape from your piercing gaze.

Moments like this are subtle with Sunghoon, he isn’t quite ready to be vulnerable but you know under the demonic persona that harbours his entity, there is a kindness to him. In your time here, you didn’t see it often, typically during the post-orgasm bliss or when you needed a bit of reassurance, but in those times his vulnerability lasted just long enough to seep through.

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon's admission, the playful banter lifting the tension that had lingered. Lightly jabbing his shoulder, you tease, "Did you miss me that much?"

Sunghoon's chuckle is warm and genuine, a sound that fills the hallway with a sense of ease. He nods in response, his gaze still fixed ahead, as if he's unwilling to meet your eyes. "A lot, more than I thought I would, baby girl," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Despite his attempts to mask it, you can sense his words hold a strong susceptivity that he's not quite ready to fully embrace.

But you understand. Because you feel the same way.

“I missed you too, Sunghoon,” you murmur, your voice filled with the same quiet genuine feelings. Sometimes there is no need for loud, grand declaring gestures of fondness, sometimes it’s as simple as saying your feelings out loud.

Reaching Jaeyun’s room, Sunghoon halts, setting your suitcases down with care. "Here's where you get off, in every sense of the phrase," he quips with a playful smirk and a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. 

Your cheeks flare with a crimson hue as embarrassment floods through you, a groan escaping your lips at his suggestive remark. Truth be told, nobody's fooling themselves about you and Jaeyun - your intimate escapades are hardly a secret. Mia's blunt commentary hasn't let you forget it either, threatening noise complaints with each ‘Fuck, Jaeyun, you look so pretty sucked into my pussy like that’.

Sunghoon's hand gently cups your cheek, his lips pressing tenderly against your forehead. His gesture catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. You're now with Jaeyun, and the sudden affection feels awkward, though undeniably stirring. You feel yourself at melting point as you succumb to his touch so easily.

You hadn’t spoken to Jaeyun about any of this, to be fair, you hadn’t imagined any of the dolls would care about you in this way now that Soonyeol was back, knowing their bond with her was much stronger than the one with you. You’ve silently asked Jaeyun not to go back to Soonyeol and that means in any form, which is probably why you feel so guilty because, in the past 20 minutes, you’ve wanted to jump on two out of three of his brothers’ bones.

Sunghoon's gaze meets yours, and he senses the rapid thumping of your heart, understanding instantly why you're so uneasy. With a gentle clearing of his throat, he withdraws from you.

"Sorry, force of habit," he confesses, his tone filled with remorse. Yet, it's a habit he shouldn't have slipped back into so effortlessly, yet it felt like breathing; as if touching you was his birthright.

You wave off his apology, understanding that his intentions were never malicious. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you know Sunghoon's actions stemmed from familiarity rather than any ill intent towards you and Jaeyun’s relationship.

He shared you with the other doll for so long that these things can easily skip his mind.

Inhaling sharply, he nods, “Soonyeol wants us all around the table for dinner, something about lasagna she found in the freezer.”

_____

After dinner, you find yourselves nestled comfortably in the living room, enveloped by the warmth of the crackling fire and the gentle hum of conversation. Soft melodies drift through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the group. 

You observe with a sense of contentment as the dolls and Soonyeol engage in lively discussion, their interactions filled with genuine interest and respect. There's a certain harmony to their dynamic, a shared understanding that speaks volumes about their bond.

It occurs to you that this must have been the essence of their existence before you entered the picture - the simple joy of companionship, the comfort of having each other's company. And while your presence may have altered the dynamics in some ways, tonight, surrounded by their collective warmth, you can't help but appreciate the beauty of their unity.

You don’t regret having Jaeyun by your side but his hearty laughter at Jongseong’s terrible jokes or playful pouts towards Sunghoon as he gets teased only make you wonder if you made the right choice.

You can't help but notice the intimate scene unfolding between Soonyeol and Heeseung, their easy familiarity and tender gestures speaking volumes. As Soonyeol recounts her childhood mishap, Heeseung's touch becomes a silent reassurance, his hand tracing soothing patterns along her arm while offering gentle squeezes of support whenever she mentions moments of pain.

Their relationship is a puzzle to you - a blend of affection and care. Soonyeol's adoration for Heeseung is evident in the way her eyes light up when she's near him, reaching for his hand with a longing that mirrors your own gestures of comfort with Jaeyun. And Heeseung, in turn, showers her with gestures of kindness and devotion, his actions speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings.

Yet, he is still posing the offer to get rid of her for you to stay. No person in love would give their partner up so easily.

Jaeyun interrupts your thoughts as he starts up his Switch, the melody drawing your attention away from the complicated couple. He begins to show Jongseong the wonders of technology even though Jongseong has lived long enough to know what a gaming console is and what its purposes are. But as always, he lets Jaeyun yap away and acts clueless.

Glancing at the clock, you realise it's already 10pm, and the exhaustion from the day's long drive begins to weigh on you. Your social battery, already running low, signals that it's time for some much-needed rest.

"I'm going to head to bed," you announce softly, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation.

Jaeyun's gaze shifts to you, his expression momentarily puzzled before softening with understanding as he notices your fatigue. It’s so refreshing to have a man care about you the way Jaeyun does, you almost don’t understand how at one point, a boy with his personality was just walking around and existing as a human. You understand why he was chosen to be an angel.

Puckering his lips playfully, Jaeyun leans in expectantly, silently requesting a goodnight kiss. Without hesitation, you lean in beside him, meeting his lips with tenderness. As your mouths meet, a gentle murmur escapes him, barely audible against your lips. "I'll come through in a bit," he suggests softly.

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay, baby. Spend some time with everyone," you murmur in return, nudging your nose against his affectionately. He gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you're sure, to which you simply nod in reassurance.

"Okay, I love you," he smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection as he bids you goodnight.

"Love you too," you reply softly, your heart swelling as you reciprocate his affectionate words. With a lingering gaze, you reluctantly pull away from Jaeyun's embrace, a fond smile gracing your lips as you whisper your goodnight.

Turning to the rest of the group, you offer a warm farewell, exchanging nods and smiles before excusing yourself from the cosy gathering. As you make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casts a tranquil ambience, enveloping you in a sense of calm.

The gentle padding of your footsteps echoes through the hallway, accompanied by the occasional crackle of the fire in the living room. Each step brings you closer to the comfort of your own space, where you can finally unwind and recharge after the day's events.

You enter the room and head straight for your case, opening it to rummage around for the pyjamas you packed. Unlike your doll spouse, you packed only the essentials, that being Jaeyun’s oversized t-shirt and some underwear. You still don’t understand why he would bring a full set of plaid pyjamas when he always sleeps in his boxers anyway.

Your fingers pause in their search as you hear the soft knock on the already slightly ajar door. Swiftly turning around, panties in hand, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon standing there, holding a cup of water in his hands, his eyes lingering on the pink underwear you're holding.

"Those are my favourite," he remarks, tilting his head to nod at the delicate garment dangling from your finger, his tone laced with playful mischief.

You quickly shove the panties back into your case, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the moment. It's silly to feel bashful around Sunghoon - he's seen every pair you own, every part of you laid bare - he's even seen your period pants, and those are definitely not a pretty sight.

Sunghoon chuckles at your antics, choosing to ignore the urge to tease you about your now beetroot face. Holding the glass of water up to catch your sight he walks into your room. “Here, thought you could use some water. It’s been hot as hell at nighttime these days.”

You nod appreciatively, touched by his consideration, as he places the glass on your bedside table. As he turns back to you, you meet his gaze, silently exchanging stares. He’s grown a little softer since you last saw him. You don’t know if it’s just your imagination or the lighting, but his eyes look less cold and that black cloud that followed him around is a faded shade of grey.

Instead of leaving, he just stays put as if he wishes to speak to you about something but he doesn’t have the courage to. It’s ironic considering he’s a demon from the underworld and you’re just a girl, yet, he looks slightly scared of you. It’s such a juxtaposition to a few months ago that you wonder what transpired here after you left.

You decide to at least make some conversation to fill the silence, “How has it been here? I bet you’re all having a great time now that there is one less doll to fight for Soonyeol’s attention,” you jab teasingly, smiling softly.

He gives you a soft pity laugh, one that someone gives when the other couldn’t be more wrong in their assumptions. “It’s pretty much the same,” he shrugs, stepping closer to you, his demeanour shifting, anguish bubbling under the surface slightly. “She mushes over Heeseung and Jongseong, they go about their business.”

“And you?”

“I’m…here,” he breathes out, dejection laced within his tone.

Sunghoon settles onto the edge of your bed, clasping his hands together, and you can't help but feel a pang of concern for him. His internal struggle is evident, and you wonder if he's wrestling with something he's hesitant to share. Never once you’ve seen him look so human, his normal cold exterior could give you ice burn, so this is new territory for both of you.

With a soft sigh, Sunghoon finally starts to speak. It's clear he's grappling with whether to open up or keep his thoughts to himself. “You know, it never used to bother me, being the last choice or even just a choice for that matter. I got what I wanted, I was content with everything.”

Sunghoon's words hang in the air, heavy with a sense of resignation. You listen quietly, sensing the weight of his thoughts as he navigates the complexities of them. This has to be difficult for him considering demons aren’t known for heart-to-hearts, so you want to give him the respect he deserves and take in his thoughts.

"I didn’t care because I don’t think I’ve felt anything for a long time," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The past however many years down there, and the almost five years here, I just didn’t feel a thing. No happiness, no sadness, no fucking thing at all." 

His words sit heavily in your heart, and you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him rather. You can understand having a lot of emotions at once but if he hasn’t felt them in years, he might as well be laying down in a stampede of turmoil.

He chuckles darkly and shakes his head, grasping the heaviness of the situation as he says it out loud for the first time. “When I was working as a soldier under Dis, it was like I had to switch them off to survive. I couldn’t keep any humane aspect of me because it would kill me to know that I was doing all these cruel and monstrous things.”

His words paint a vivid picture of the internal battle he's waged for survival, forced to suppress his humanity in order to endure the atrocities he was compelled to commit, the experience surrendering him to his demon ways. It's a harrowing revelation, one that leaves you grappling with the enormity of his suffering. 

Sunghoon's words challenge your preconceived notions about demons, forcing you to reconsider your assumptions about their nature. While you once believed that demons took pride in their wrongdoings and found pleasure in the pain of others, Sunghoon's experience suggests otherwise. Perhaps some demons are simply products of their environment, forced to adapt to survive in a world that demands cruelty and brutality.

As you reflect on Sunghoon's past and his evident lack of joy in his actions, you begin to question whether he truly belongs in the same category as the demons you once feared. Maybe he wasn't a bad guy at all, just someone who was given the wrong end of the deal. While he may not have been saintly enough to earn a place in heaven, he also doesn't seem to fit the mould of a typical demon.

The realisation dawns on you that perhaps Sunghoon defies easy categorisation, existing in a grey area between good and evil. Surely, in the universe you inhabit, with its myriad mystical creatures - demons, angels, goblins, and humans alike - there must be an understanding that no one person is entirely pure or wholly evil.

"I turned up, did my job, rinse and repeat, you know? And killing people, well, that was one thing, but the torture of people who didn’t even deserve it, or the…" he swallows harshly, as if suppressing the disgust that bubbles from his guilt, struggling to admit anything else he partook in, "I did all that, with no bat of an eye for so fucking long."

His admission is raw and unfiltered, laying bare the depths of his remorse and the internal struggle he's faced. It's clear that he carries a heavy burden of guilt, grappling with his past life as a soldier.

For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of his confession settling over the room like a thick fog. You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure of how to offer comfort or solace in the face of such profound suffering. This isn’t someone's cat dying, this is years of mental torture, and nothing you say can console that.

Grabbing his hand, you interlock your fingers with his. "You must have had something good inside of you to stand up against Dis though, to fight your way out of his legion," you offer softly, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.

It may not be much, but you want Sunghoon to know that you see beyond his past, beyond the darkness that once consumed him. You want him to understand that whatever happened down there in the depths of hell, you won't judge him for it. His struggle and sacrifice to break free from that life, to reject the cruelty and injustice he was forced to perpetuate, speaks volumes about the strength of his character.

"Dis wants death to everything he didn’t create," he growls out, his tone dripping with contempt. "He was being greedy and started hurting fellow soldiers. It doesn’t take emotion to know that it was going to end in a be killed or die trying situation."

The memory of his fellow soldiers' bodies burning before him flashes vividly in his mind, and you can sense the torment in his voice as he relives those traumatic moments. He thinks about the countless times he was made to strike the match, being complicit in the horror that unfolded before his eyes, and the guilt weighs heavily on his conscience.

"That doesn’t make me a good person," he continues, his voice trembling with self-condemnation. "It makes me scum because I watched it for so long, turning a blind eye when I should have been doing anything at all to stop it."

His admission is gut-wrenching, laying bare the depths of his remorse and self-loathing. In that moment, you're overwhelmed by a profound sense of empathy for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort and support as he grapples with the demons of his past.

Sunghoon’s body trembles as all his emotions flood him, his entity unequipped to handle such a vast complexity. 

"Oh, Sunghoon," you murmur softly, your heart aching for him as you envelop him in a tight embrace, offering what comfort you can in this moment of vulnerability. You hold him close, rocking him gently as he grapples with the weight of his confession.

"I can't imagine how you're feeling," you continue, your voice filled with empathy and compassion. "No one ever will, and I wish I could take the pain away from everything that you're feeling."

Sunghoon nods in response, his gaze fixed on the ground as his eyes flicker between black and normal. You hold him tighter, silently offering your support and understanding as he processes the tumult of emotions swirling within him. At this moment, all you can do is be there for him, a source of solace amid his inner turmoil.

Pushing you away gently, Sunghoon finally looks at you, his gaze searching your eyes for understanding. When he sees the genuine sympathy reflected in your gaze, he relaxes slightly, a sense of relief washing over him.

"I think you brought my humanity back," he confesses, his thumb stroking your hand to comfort you as if you were the one who just had vivid flashbacks to the worst moments of your life and not him.

You tilt your head in confusion, your brows furrowing. His light laughter at your concerned expression eases the tension slightly, but you're still puzzled by his words. 

"It's not a bad thing, baby girl, don't worry," Sunghoon reassures you, his tone gentle as he seeks to alleviate any concerns you may have. But there's a determination in his eyes as he continues, a resolve to confront the turmoil within him head-on.

"Yes, I'm going to have to work through whatever the fuck trauma I have because there are so many negative feelings right now," he admits, his voice tinged with resignation. "But you, fuck, you made me experience all the good ones again."

His words catch you off guard, a surge of emotion welling up within you as you realise the impact you've had on him. Despite the darkness of his past and the challenges that lie ahead, there's a glimmer of hope in his words. “You have done something that Soonyeol couldn’t do, something I couldn’t even do for myself.” 

Reaching his hand up, he cradles your face just like earlier, this time rather than instinct, it’s purposeful, to ease you into his next bout of words. “When you were here, I knew I wanted you around all the time. At first, I thought it was just because I was bored and you were there.”

Ouch. 

He sees your wince at his brutal honesty, and his eyes widen in realisation. "Oh god, baby girl, no, no no," he exclaims, his other hand reaching out now to cup both your cheeks as he shakes his head fervently. He rolls his eyes at his own passing comment, recognising that it's probably the last thing you want to hear.

"I don’t mean it like that," he clarifies quickly, his voice laced with urgency. "I mean, I stopped thinking like that after a few weeks in. I felt warmth for the first time in so long that I thought Dis had found me and I was being dragged back to hell with how warm it was."

You grasp his hands, gently pulling them away from your face as you listen intently to his words. You haven’t said much, but there's nothing to say right now. You can't interrupt him while he's pouring his heart out to you. Instead, you offer him your unwavering support, silently conveying your understanding and acceptance as he shares his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

Once he sees that you’re no longer offended by his words, he continues, “When you left, I tried to turn it off, longing for you the way I did. I thought you would never come back so I tried to shut the pain out, but somehow it only made every feeling and memory I had suppressed come to the front of my mind, I missed you as soon as you drove off that day, and I miss you even more now that you’re sitting in front of me.”

“Sunghoon, you don’t have to miss me when I’m right here.”

“But you’ll never be mine. Jaeyun is your soulmate, how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?” he asks softly, laughing away his anguish. He is trying to hide it but you can see this is as painful to him as reliving those memories. You didn’t realise the hold you had on him or how leaving would affect him.

In all honesty, you thought that with Soonyeol back, the other boys wouldn’t need you at all. Heeseung can say he wants you but that’s in no way the same way that Jaeyun wants you, the way Sunghoon clearly wants you. 

You had missed the acts of care he performed for you, the aftercare becoming more loving as the weeks passed, how he would spend the night in your bed and cuddle despite his inability to sleep. He did all of this for you because…

"Whatever love feels like, I think this is as close as I am capable of feeling," Sunghoon confesses, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Hooni-"

"I know, you have Jaeyun and we can’t share anymore, but I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me," he interrupts gently, his words filled with gratitude.

"We could."

You hear a voice in the doorway, and as you turn to face it, you see Jaeyun standing awkwardly, his eyes shifting between you and Sunghoon.

Removing yourself from Sunghoon's embrace, you're acutely aware of the situation's delicate nature. Jaeyun must have been standing there for a while, silently witnessing his brother's confession to you.

Sunghoon's expression tightens, a mixture of surprise and apprehension crossing his features as he exchanges a hesitant glance with Jaeyun. It's clear that he hadn't anticipated Jaeyun's sudden appearance, and the tension in the room thickens with his presence.

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words lingering between the three of you. As you search for the right words to break the awkwardness, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the situation you find yourself in.

Jaeyun offers a small smile, his eyes softening with understanding. "We could share again, like before," he suggests gently.

Sunghoon shakes his head, his expression sombre. "Jaeyun, we can't. It's different now that you're both in a relationship," he explains, his voice tinged with regret. "Look, I didn't come in here to get in between you both. I just wanted you to know how I felt. I think maybe saying it out loud could help me process it all a little better," he confesses, his gaze shifting between you and Jaeyun.

"You love Y/N, I love her too," he begins, his voice calm yet resolute. "I think as her partner, I want her to experience love from every person she can receive it."

His words are met with a moment of contemplative silence, the weight of his proposition sinking in. Sunghoon's expression softens, a flicker of gratitude and relief crossing his features as he processes Jaeyun's unexpected response.

"Baby doll, relationships don’t work that way, I mean they can but not ours," you murmur softly, the words tumbling out as you try to make sense of the situation.

But Jaeyun's next question catches you off guard, causing you to pause and consider his words carefully. "You love him too, do you not?" he asks, his gaze steady as he waits for your response, no judgment in his tone.

Do you love Sunghoon?

There’s no denying there is something there between you both, but you never gave into it once you found out he was a demon, knowing that you already make bad enough choices with men nevermind falling for an evil entity - the men you’ve swiped on tinder are demonic enough.

But you know now that he isn’t evil. In no way is he a saint but who is? He’s been labelled evil yet as you stare at him, you see nothing but a bright soul staring back at you. You have feelings for him, those could be love if you open up your heart to him rather than closing it away.

You look into Sunghoon’s eyes and realise, there’s only one organ in your body that you should listen to, and it thumps so easily for Sunghoon.

"Yes," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love him."

The admission hangs in the air, the weight of it settling over the room like a gentle breeze. In that moment, you feel a sense of clarity and certainty wash over you. 

Despite the happiness within your chest at the words finally leaving your lips, you worry about Jaeyun’s reaction to your words. Yet, when you look at him, your pretty doll is smiling widely, walking over to you both. Jaeyun's smile is radiant, his eyes alight with genuine happiness as he approaches. There's a warmth in his expression that fills you with a sense of reassurance as if he's silently affirming his acceptance and support.

“Then let’s do it. Sunghoon, you’ll love it in the city, there is so much to do and see. There are so many things to take pictures of, and they have indoor ice rinks, can you believe it? You don’t even need to wait until the lake freezes over in the winter to skate!”

Jaeyun’s excitement fills the air, any tension from Sunghoon’s past revelations or his loving confession is now swept to the side due to your boyfriend’s happiness. He’s one in a million because what other man could hear their best friend and girlfriend confessing love to one another and be thrilled about the prospect of a throuple?

Sunghoon smiles but shakes his head, “I can’t come with you, Jaeyun. Heeseung would never let me go. Plus, Soonyeol already had a hard time when you left, I can’t do that to her.”

"You mean the same Soonyeol who doesn’t pay attention to you anymore?" you inquire, your words cutting through the tension with brutal honesty. It's a difficult question to ask, but one that needs to be addressed.

Sunghoon's expression tightens at your blunt assessment, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he composes himself.

"What would the old you do? Not this Sunghoon, the one just before I arrived here?" you press, your voice gentle yet insistent.

He ponders your question, his gaze falling to the ground as he delves deep into his thoughts. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I would have... done what I wanted."

"And what do you want?" Jaeyun prompts.

Sunghoon hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for guidance. Then, with a sense of resolve, he confesses, "I want to come with you." His words hang in the air, a tangible declaration of his desires and aspirations. In that moment, you can feel the weight of his longing, his yearning for something more than the confines of his current existence. “It’s not that easy though.”

“Forget about all that, just follow your emotions for now," you say with a fond smile, urging Sunghoon to trust in his instincts. "What are they saying to you?"

“That I should kiss you.”

Your gaze flickers to Jaeyun, whose grin speaks volumes, his eyes filled with understanding. With a quick nod of agreement from your boyfriend, you return your attention to Sunghoon, who appears rigid and apprehensive, fearing he may have been too honest in his confession and jeopardised his chances.

Perhaps he should have expressed the deep-seated desire for freedom that has been gnawing at him. Heeseung had painted a picture of independence, free from rules and authority, a dream Sunghoon longed to pursue. But trapped within the confines of the mansion, he realises he's merely exchanged one form of captivity for another.

Was it as brutal as Dis? Not in any shape or form, but as long as Heeseung reigns over this mansion, Sunghoon might as well be back in the cell.

Sunghoon feels stifled, yearning for the freedom to chart his own course. In the months since you've been apart, he's come to understand that true freedom isn't just about evading control; it's about embracing the power to shape his own destiny. This isn’t the life he needs.

He needs a life with you.

Once you see his eyes soften, you know whatever turmoil is raging in his head is subsiding, giving you the opening to reach out and touch his face, providing any reassurance that you can. 

Looking into Sunghoon's eyes, you see a beautiful flicker of humanity, and you know that no matter what happens, you need to do everything in your power to help him leave the confines of this house.

Kissing your palm, Sunghoon closes his eyes and trails his lips up your arm, leaving a path of tender kisses. His touch is so gentle, so unlike his usual intensity, that your body melts under his love. You're acutely aware of how special this moment is, knowing that very few have ever experienced this side of him.

He shuffles closer to you on the bed, continuing his path along your shoulder and up your neck. He sucks softly and swiftly over your tender spot, eliciting a small whimper from you. It's been so long since Sunghoon touched you that his lips had become a distant memory. Yet for him, these kisses and caresses are second nature; he hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your preferences since you left.

Having spent so much time together, Sunghoon learned everything there is to know about you. He discovered your pleasure points, memorised your likes and dislikes, and committed them to memory. Even when he touched himself at night or shared fleeting moments with Soonyeol, it was you he thought about. His body instinctively moved to please you, even if it was another woman beneath him.

He wonders if that's why Soonyeol has become more distant. Perhaps she senses the difference, noticing how his movements lack the passion he reserves for his memories of you. Her body, as much as he might try to please her, is incomparable to yours in his mind.

Sunghoon's kisses grow more fervent, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour. You respond in kind, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. The connection between you is electric, a mixture of longing and hope that fuels your determination to free him.

"Let me have you," he whispers against your skin, his voice filled with vulnerability and desperation. "Even if it’s just for tonight."

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart aching at the raw emotion you see within him. “I’ll do everything I can to hold you forever, Hoonie,” you whisper tenderly, hoping your words convey the sincerity of your heart.

He closes the space between you, his mouth enveloping yours with such desire that it takes your breath away. His tongue wraps around yours as his hands grip your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. The kiss is hot, making your whole body feel like it's on fire, your lips plumping with each lick and suck from Sunghoon. He loves the taste of you more than anything.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. You arch into his touch, feeling the intensity of his desire matching your own. Every movement, every caress, is filled with a desperate need to hold onto this moment, to make it last as long as possible.

Sunghoon's lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him better access as he continues his path, his hands now exploring the curves of your hips and thighs.

Your fingers tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You run your hands over his toned chest. He groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he returns his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

Jaeyun observes you both lose yourselves in each other, his hand subconsciously reaching for his clothed cock, palming himself for some relief. Although your back is facing him, the noises escaping your mouth are enough to tell him that you’re enjoying yourself. Every moan, every gasp, sends shivers down his spine and fuels his own arousal.

The sight of Sunghoon devouring you with his kisses, the way your bodies move together with such desperate passion, it’s all too much for Jaeyun to handle. He bites his lip, trying to suppress the groan building in his throat as his hand moves with more urgency.

Sunghoon's hands roam your body with a fervour that speaks of months of pent-up desire. He caresses your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, burning kisses that make you shiver.

You arch your back, pressing closer to Sunghoon, your breath hitching with each touch. Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently, eliciting a deep groan from him. The sound reverberates through your body, intensifying the pleasure coursing through you.

Jaeyun's eyes hood over, fixed on the way Sunghoon's hands knead your flesh, the way your body responds to every touch, every kiss. He can see the way Sunghoon's tongue glides along your collarbone, the way your skin flushes under his attention.

The room fills with the sounds of your shared desire, creating an intoxicating symphony that pushes Jaeyun closer to the edge. He can't tear his eyes away from you, can't stop the rhythm of his hand as he imagines being part of this heated exchange.

Sunghoon’s kisses grow more intense, his hands exploring the soft skin beneath your shirt. He cups your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples over your bra, drawing a sharp gasp from you. You press into him, craving more, and he responds by capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Jaeyun's breath catches in his throat as he watches, his own desire building to a fever pitch. He longs to join you, to feel your touch, to lose himself in the shared heat of your bodies. He wishes there was a way to indulge in your session and give you just as much pleasure as Sunghoon is.

Noticing his friend's act of arousal, Sunghoon’s eyes flicker to Jaeyun’s crotch where the hard outline of his dick strains against his trousers. Jaeyun’s hand moves faster, dipping below the waistband in a futile attempt to find relief. It’s not fair to leave him out, especially considering it’s with his consent that you and Sunghoon can divulge like this, offering to share you is an act of love. Sunghoon would be cruel to leave him out.

“Jaeyun, come here,” Sunghoon commands, his voice husky and filled with an unspoken promise.

Jaeyun hesitates for a moment, his eyes locking with yours when you turn around to look at him. You nod, a silent invitation that sends a thrill through him. Although Sunghoon is only kissing you, you looked so fucked out already that Jaeyun wonders if he could have the same effect.

Because you’ve only ever had sex with both of them separately, Jaeyun has never thought about how you are with Sunghoon. He has never been jealous, always willing to understand that what Sunghoon gives you is different from him, but seeing it in action is making him want to prove his worth.

Shifting slightly backwards on the bed, Sunghoon creates space for Jaeyun to join, his hold on your waist tightening. When you both situate yourself in the middle of the king-sized bed, Sunghoon bucks his hips up, drawing out a long moan from you. “I’m still in charge, got it?” he warns you playfully, biting at your bottom lip. He knows you take control of the situation with Jaeyun but there’s no way Sunghoon will let you do that now.

Quickly, you nod and peck his lips, “Anything you say, but go easy on him, yeah?” you ask, your eyes searching his for agreement. You love how rough Sunghoon is with you but Jaeyun doesn’t like to be degraded the way you do; it’s important that Jaeyun gets the reassurance he needs throughout the experience.

As Jaeyun climbs onto the bed, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek before pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. The sensation of having both men so close, so eager, sends waves of pleasure through you.

Sunghoon’s hands continue their exploration, his touch firm and possessive, while Jaeyun’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer with a gentler touch. The three of you move together in a rhythm that feels both natural and intoxicating.

Sunghoon leans in, his lips brushing against Jaeyun’s ear. “Let’s make her feel everything she deserves. Don't be selfish, understand?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry promise. You never thought you would be so turned on by the affection shared between them. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Jaeyun whine into your mouth at Sunghoon’s close proximity.

With a firm slap on your thigh, Sunghoon signals for you to climb off his lap, only for Jaeyun to smile and pull you closer to him. While you’re busy kissing your boyfriend, Sunghoon’s fingers dance up your back, unclasping your bra to let your tits bounce freely. He presses his chest to your back and starts to grasp your boobs roughly, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples.

He leans his chin on your shoulder and licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling at your ear. “I want you to ride his face, baby girl, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

You draw back from Jaeyun’s lips, eyes widening as you process his words. Sunghoon’s intense stare sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a rush of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. 

Normally you would say no because you don’t want to suffocate your partner, scared that you’ll get so lost in pleasure that you will trap them down there and cut off their oxygen, their last memories being succumbed to your pussy. But they don’t breathe so there is not a percentage of a chance that your apprehensions could come true.

Jaeyun’s ears perk up, curious to how you will react. You aren’t one to receive head from him, opting to focus on his pleasure rather than your own when it comes to oral; the noises he makes are enough for you most of the time, plus, it’s his cock that is the real star of the show after all.

Sunghoon’s hands wrap around your wrists, bringing them to a stretch. “Keep them there or else I’ll need to tie you up. You don’t want that, do you?” he murmurs against your skin, his hands snaking down your arms, ghosting over your armpit to make you shiver. 

Of course, you don’t want that because then you can’t touch them, you can’t run your fingers through Jaeyun’s hair or grip onto Sunghoon’s back when he drives into you. Touching them was almost as good as the sex itself.

With a nod, Sunghoon plants a peck on your shoulder as a thank you for your cooperation, although he is a little sad he couldn’t tie up your pretty body so he can use you as he pleases. Another time, maybe.

“Jaeyun, take off your clothes,” he instructs his best friend who eagerly bounces off the bed, shedding his clothes quicker than you’ve ever seen him before. His cock bounces to attention as it finally has the chance to breathe, its tip already pink with arousal.

Grabbing the hem of your t-shirt, Sunghoon whisks it off your body along with your bra, leaving your tits on full display for Jaeyun to gawk at, licking his lips as he smiles widely. “Take her bottoms off.” 

Jaeyun nods, his eyes dark with desire. Together, they begin to undress you, their hands working in unison to remove your clothes with a mixture of urgency and reverence. Each touch, each kiss, ignites your skin, making you feel worshipped and adored.

As your clothes fall away, Jaeyun’s hands move to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples while Sunghoon’s mouth patterns kisses into your shouldblade. You arch into their touch, your body trembling with anticipation, your glistening cunt dripping onto the sheets.

Jaeyun lays down, eagerly awaiting your heat atop of his face, tongue already sticking out in preparation. He looks so much like a puppy waiting for his treat that you can’t help but pout and smile fondly at him. You bring your aching arms down and manouvre yourself into position, hovering above him. 

“If you want to stop at any point, baby doll, you just tap my leg, yeah?” you smile down at him in gratitude, even if it wasn’t his idea. He hardly registers your words and nods absentmindedly, too busy staring at your folds and thinking about that first sweet taste.

The moment your thighs encase his head, he eagerly latches onto your core, his tongue delving into your folds with fervour. He grips your thighs as he gets to work, sucking and licking you like a man starved of his favourite meal.

Sunghoon’s hands remain on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching your nipples each time you move your hips, trying to match some sort of rhythm. The dual sensations make you moan, your body is ignited with sensations from all over. Jaeyun’s tongue works expertly, exploring every inch of your heat, while Sunghoon’s touch heightens your pleasure.

Sunghoon’s lips find your neck again, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “Feel how much he loves pleasing you. You deserve all this attention, baby.”

Your hands grip the headboard for support as you move against Jaeyun’s mouth, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, Jaeyun’s eager licks, and Sunghoon’s whispered praises.

Sunghoon retracts from you, allowing Jaeyun to indulge in his own devices as he strips down, his cock springing into action, already leaking at the sight of you getting lost in pleasure. It’s strange to see you from this angle, usually viewing your contorted face through his lashes as he looks up at you.

Pumping his cock with his right hand, Jaeyun’s jaw slackens as he relieves himself, momentarily losing focus on you, much to Sunghoon’s disapproval. “Jaeyun, if I see you touch your cock one more time, I’m going to chop it off,” he says harshly, leaving no room for argument. “This is for Y/N, not your selfish needs.”

Jaeyun immediately halts his movements, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and obedience. He quickly shifts his attention back to you, his hands returning to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he resumes his dedicated task of pleasuring you. His tongue works with renewed eagerness, each flick and nibble driving you closer to the edge.

Sunghoon's eyes darken with lust as he watches the scene before him. He steps closer, his cock inches from your face. The sight of his rigid length, combined with Jaeyun’s relentless tongue, sends a new wave of desire coursing through you. You can't help but lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth.

A low groan escapes Sunghoon's lips as you wrap your tongue around him, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.

“That's it, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. “Show me how much you want this.”

With Jaeyun’s mouth still working wonders between your legs and Sunghoon’s cock filling your mouth, you're completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Every nerve in your body feels alive, every touch magnified by the intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens in your hair as he begins to thrust, his hips rocking in time with your movements. You moan around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure: your muffled moans, Jaeyun’s eager slurps, and Sunghoon’s low, primal groans.

Jaeyun's tongue delves deeper, his pace quickening as he feels you nearing the edge again. He wants to push you over, to make you shatter with pleasure. You grind against his face, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

"Are you close, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, strained with desire, cuts through the air, the sight of your cheeks hollowed and tears glistening in your eyes only intensifies his urgency.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

Sunghoon hears two mewling responses, surprising him. Looking down at Jaeyun’s cock, he sees it jumping in need, ready to explode at any moment. He can’t reprimand him considering your pussy does the same to him, bringing him to the brink of busting a nut, although, never has it been free-handed.

With a swift motion, Sunghoon pulls you off his cock, wiping away the mess around your mouth before offering you his thumb to suck on. "Let it go, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with need.

Despite Sunghoon stopping the abuse of your throat, Jaeyun redoubles his efforts, his tongue working tirelessly to bring you to the peak of pleasure. He can feel your body tensing, the telltale signs of your impending orgasm driving him to push harder. His nose rubs your clit as he works your hips to move faster, each time it hits, your whine out.

The sensations overwhelm you as you teeter on the brink, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. But Sunghoon's soft words and Jaeyun's skilled tongue prove to be too much, and with a final, desperate cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your release washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

As waves of ecstasy ripple through your body, you cling onto Sunghoon’s waist, gripping so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your muscles contract involuntarily as you ride out the intense pleasure. Sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens as he watches you unravel,  satisfaction evident in his eyes. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as you come down from your high.

Jaeyun continues to lap at your sensitive folds, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes as he savours the taste of your release. His own arousal pulses through him and as he unlatches his mouth, he groans out, coming undone on his stomach completely hands-free, his cock dancing of its own accord.

You feel some of his cum hit your ass, his load shooting high up his body, causing you to peel away from Sunghoon and turn your head to look. It’s a beautiful sight, the white painting his toned tummy as his dick pulses in the aftermath. 

Sunghoon watches with a smirk, his own arousal fighting against the erotic display before him. As you climb off, he reaches out to stroke Jaeyun's cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Well done, Jaeyun," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride.

As Jaeyun's climax subsides, he sinks into the bed, his cock flushed with exertion. You reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort and affection. The touches from both you and Sunghoon are more than he could ever ask for, the attention and affection he is receiving is beyond his wildest dreams. 

With a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks, Jaeyun turns to you, his voice slightly hoarse from his earlier moans. "Sorry about that," he mumbles, his eyes betraying his embarrassment. "I couldn't help myself."

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "How about you make it up to her and help me clean her up?" he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jaeyun gets up and wipes his tummy with some tissues from the box at the side of your bed before making his way over to you, peeling some more tissues to wipe you down. But Sunghoon stops him, shaking his head.

You watch with curiosity as they exchange silent words, a private conversation unfolding between them. As you lay back, anticipation tingles through your body, wondering what their next move will be.

Their synchronised actions take you by surprise as both boys wear smug smiles, their eyes alight with mischief as they slide down the bed, positioning themselves between your thighs with confident ease.

“What are yo- Oh fuck,” you moan out loudly, legs instinctively spreading wider.

Your breath catches in your throat as their tongues begin to trace hot stripes up the cum-covered folds of your pussy. Their mouths work in perfect harmony, their tongues intertwining in a tantalizing dance, as they meticulously clean you up. Each stroke of their tongues sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for more, lost in the dizzying sensation of their dual ministrations. 

You arch your back, moaning in ecstasy as they skillfully coax another wave of arousal from deep within you. Their combined efforts leave you teetering on the edge of bliss, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their dual assault.

Sunghoon's nose brushes against Jaeyun's as they share a knowing smile, their shared goal evident in the way they work together to pleasure you. Their synchronised movements create a rhythm that mirrors the pounding of your heart, each flick of their tongues sending you soaring higher and higher towards the pinnacle of pleasure.

You don’t know how you got lucky enough to have two eager-to-please dolls swimming around in your cunt, but you need to thank whoever let you be born in this lifetime to experience it.

Unable to hold back any longer, you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, your second orgasm crashing over you. Your cries of rapture fill the room as you ride the pleasure, your body trembling in their grasp as they continue to worship you with their mouths.

So much for cleaning up.

Your chest is tight as you fight for breath, your climax so overwhelming it winded you. Sunghoon notices you struggle and pulls you up from the lying position. “Sit here for me, baby girl,” he whispers, kissing you long enough that some of your essence transfers from his lips to yours.

Reaching over, he picks up the water he brought in earlier, bringing it to your lips. “Drink some. We aren’t done with you yet.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you take the glass from him, grateful for the cool relief it offers. You take a few sips, letting the water soothe your parched throat as you try to steady your breathing. Jaeyun holds the cup with you as he sees you struggle, his touch is gentle as he supports you, his concern evident in the way he watches you with tender eyes.

Once you've had your fill, he sets the glass aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod weakly, leaning into his embrace as you take comfort in his warmth. Despite the intensity of your climax, you feel safe and loved in his arms, just as you always do.

“Should we stop? Y/N looks pretty exhausted,” Jaeyun looks to his friend, seeking guidance from him. Jaeyun isn’t one to go rough so he isn’t used to you looking so dishevelled and out of it. 

You’re just glad he didn’t witness you at the merciless hands of Heeseung.

Sunghoon shakes his head, “She’s a tough girl,” he begins, stroking your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch. “Plus, she’s never satisfied until that pretty little cunt is being filled with cock, isn’t that right baby?”  

You feel a blush spread across your cheeks at Sunghoon's words, but you can't deny the truth in them. Despite your exhaustion, there's a part of you that still craves more, that yearns for the feeling of being completely filled and consumed by pleasure.

Nodding slightly, you meet Sunghoon's gaze with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Yes," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Sunghoon. I want both of you."

Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips possessively. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "We'll take care of you, baby. Just let us know if it's too much."

With a silent understanding of your needs and his concerns lightened slightly thanks to your words, Jaeyun moves to sit beside you, his eyes filled with longing as he watches Sunghoon's hands roam your body. You can feel the heat between the three of you, the anticipation building as you prepare for what's to come next.

“I want you on all fours for me, baby girl,” Sunghoon’s tone is back to his commanding self, taking charge of the situation once he knows you can handle more. 

Jaeyun pouts, looking at him in confusion, “I should get to go first, I’m her boyfriend after all.”

Scoffing, Sunghoon shakes his head definitely, “Not a chance in hell, Jaeyun. You’ve had her for three months, It’s my turn.”

Sunghoon's words hang heavy in the air, a clear declaration of his intent. Jaeyun's expression shifts from confusion to a mix of disappointment and frustration. He opens his mouth to argue, but Sunghoon cuts him off with a stern look.

"No, Jaeyun," Sunghoon says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what's going to fucking happen." That dominating side of Sunghoon still rearing its head when faced with protest

Jaeyun's shoulders tense at the command, a ripple of frustration evident in his expression. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a hint of resignation, a recognition of Sunghoon's authority at this moment. With a heavy sigh, he acquiesces, albeit reluctantly.

You catch the glint of disappointment in Jaeyun's eyes and offer him a reassuring smile. "Your turn will come, baby doll. Just be patient with us," you say, your voice soft and comforting. "Be good for me and Sunghoon, yeah?"

There's a warmth in your tone that Jaeyun finds hard to resist. He nods in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his lingering disappointment.

"Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his words murmuring behind his pout. "I'll be good."

Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, his attention already focused on you. He gestures for you to move into position, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you comply. His stare exudes a desire that sends shivers up the back of your neck, eagerness running through your veins as you prepare to be filled with his cock. 

The familiar ache of longing surges within you as Sunghoon positions himself, the tip of his cock teasingly brushing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you await the blissful sensation of being joined with him.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Sunghoon enters you, his length filling you completely as you gasp in pleasure. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, ignites a fire within you, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth. Your nails dig into the sheets as you arch your back, welcoming him deeper into your warmth.

Sunghoon's movements are controlled yet powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he sets a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

Jaeyun watches with a mixture of longing and admiration, his own desire evident in the way he bites his lip, his gaze fixed on the intimate act before him. Though he may not be participating at this moment, the sight of you and Sunghoon together fills him with a sense of fulfilment and arousal.

He starts to pump his cock slowly, rubbing his thumb over the slit in his bell, pressing down hard as he watches you get railed by the tall doll.

You see Jaeyun struggling, knowing that he wants nothing more than to be inside of you, his hand only giving him some relief but not anything like what he wants. As Sunghoon piledrives into you, balls slapping against your skin and hands gripped tightly into your hips, you place your hand over his cock, replacing his as you kiss his tip, spilling some of your warm spit onto it.

“You’re being so patient, baby doll.” you gasp between thrusts as Sunghoon bucks his hips faster, the bed moving below you and the headboard hitting the wall. You stroke his cock, trying to match the pace that Sunghoon has set. 

Jaeyun leans into your touch, his body trembling with anticipation as he surrenders to the sensations washing over him.  You look so beautiful with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, lost in your own desires while still trying to fulfil his.

“Suck it, baby girl, give your precious puppy the attention he wants,” Sunghoon’s tone is laced with mocking, eluding to the fact that you will always cater to Jaeyun even when he has done nothing to deserve it.

You don’t need to be told twice before your mouth is stuffed with your boyfriend’s length. You slurp him up with ease, the familiar taste of his faux skin making your pussy clench around Sunghoon; the sensation causes his cock to graze your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but moan in pleasure around Jaeyun.

You are so overwhelmed by all the emotions you are experiencing that your body surrenders to them both, letting them have their way with you in any way they please.

For Sunghoon, he relentlessly fucks into you, feeling his entire cock in your stomach. And for Jaeyun, he is holding your head and thrusting into you in time with the other doll, both of their cocks penetrating you so deep you’re sure if this was a hentai, their cocks would be kissing at the midway point.

Jaeyun looks up at Sunghoon and sees how concentrated he looks, his features echoing the power and determination of each thrust. He wonders if Sunghoon is so focused on you that he is forgetting himself in this situation.

Reaching over, Jaeyun cradles Sunghoon’s cheek, dragging him out of his concentration to look at him with bewilderment. But that look doesn’t deter Jaeyun, instead, he brings him closer to him and presses his lips to the shocked raven-haired boy.

As their lips meet in a tender kiss, the room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Sunghoon's initial shock gives way to a sense of warmth and acceptance, his body melting into Jaeyun's embrace as he returns the sweet kiss.

In that moment, all pretence falls away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between them. It's a gesture of solidarity, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds them together, regardless of the circumstances.

As they break apart, their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. Sunghoon's heart swells with gratitude for the newfound sense of closeness blossoming between them. He gets why you dote on Jaeyun so much more than he ever did.

However, with the moment happening above you, you’ve been left to fend for yourself, rocking yourself between impaling on Sunghoon’s cock and deepthroating Jaeyun. You don’t mind putting the work in, especially if it gives Sunghoon and Jaeyun a chance to at least start to understand that sharing you could also open the possibility of sharing one another.

You don’t know how their dynamic will blossom but that’s part of the fun of it all, it’s something you can all work through together once you figure out a way to get Heeseung’s blessing.

Sunghoon's gaze is filled with admiration as he watches you, his lips curling into a wicked smile at the sight of your desperate efforts to please them both. It's a heady rush, knowing that you're willing to go to such lengths for their pleasure, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.

As you continue to fuck onto him with determination, Sunghoon's hands roam over your body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever it lands. He revels in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with need.

“Flip over for me, baby girl.” Sunghoon commands, slapping your ass to motion you on your back.

Obliging, you pop off Jaeyun’s cock and roll over, legs spread widely in the air as you pirouette on Sunghoon, his shaft never leaving you. The newfound angle just makes it easier to thrust into you, helping you reach that pinnacle peak of pleasure once again.

Jaeyun watches him take you roughly, too roughly for his taste because he can see the bruises forming over your gorgeous body. Jaeyun's concern for your well-being is evident in his eyes, his brow furrowing with worry as he watches Sunghoon's rough handling. Despite his reservations, he trusts Sunghoon to know your limits better than anyone, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to intervene.

"Sunghoon, please," Jaeyun implores, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Just... take it easy on her."

Sunghoon's laughter fills the room, the sound mixing with the symphony of moans and gasps as he continues to pound into you with relentless force. “Jaeyun, listen to her, she fucking loves it.” He presses down on your stomach hard, feeling himself deep inside you, “Tell him how much you love it.”

“I love it, I love it so much,” you whimper out, body squirming as it becomes overrun with a sudden urge to release, your walls clamping down on Sunghoon. 

Jaeyun's expression softens as he watches the interplay between you and Sunghoon. Despite his lingering concerns, he knows that Sunghoon cares for you deeply, and he can see the mutual trust and understanding that exists between you.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that you could use some extra tenderness and care, especially with the intensity of Sunghoon's actions. With a determined expression, he moves closer to the two of you, his hands gentle as he traces soothing circles over your skin, massaging your skin softly as if to ease the tension and forming bruises on your skin.

It’s all too much, the juxtaposition between gentle and rough is sending your mind into a tizzy and before you know it, you’re coming undone over Sunghoon’s cock. “I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you exclaim through laboured breaths, gasping out.

“I know you are, baby girl, cum all over my cock like a good girl, show Jaeyun what a good pup looks like.”

Sunghoon's thrusts grow more urgent, his movements fueled by the primal need for release. His guttural moans fill the room, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you both approach the pinnacle of your passion together.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sunghoon pulls out and releases his load onto your stomach, his essence painting you like a canvas as he marks his territory. There's a possessiveness in his actions, an unspoken claim over you that speaks volumes despite the supposed arrangement of sharing, but he wants Jaeyun to see you covered in his seed, how your body is glistening because of him.

You only add to his ego as you cry out, wishing he was filling you up instead. Your pussy craves cum, it needs to be stuffed and Sunghoon just denied you the simple pleasure. “Please,” you plead, not saying exactly what you want, but rather your actions speak as your fingers scoop some of the cum on your tummy and start to finger it into you.

Jaeyun can hardly tear his eyes away from the erotic scene before him, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watches you, desperate and hungry for more. 

“Come on, give her what she wants, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon begins, moving to the side to let Jaeyun take over, “Fill that pretty pussy up with your cum. Be a good boy.” 

A shiver runs over Jaeyun’s body and his cock leaks at Sunghoon’s words, a desperate whimper escaping his throat as he trembles in anticipation. He’s been watching Sunghoon manhandle you so long that he’s scared about hurting you, your cunt is too sensitive to take him.

Opening your eyes, you see Jaeyun holding his cock with contemplation clouding his eyes. You sit up on your elbows, using whatever energy you have left and tilt your head. “Go as hard or fast as you want, baby doll, I can take it,” you assure him, beckoning him closer for a kiss.

Your words ignite a fire within Jaeyun, his desire overcoming his hesitation as he moves closer to you, his cock throbbing with need. He leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his hands trembling with anticipation as he positions himself between your legs.

With renewed confidence, Jaeyun guides his cock into your heat, his breath catching in his throat as he pushes inside. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock enveloped in the warmth and tightness of your slick walls, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

You moan into his mouth, encouraging him to go harder, faster, as you eagerly welcome him into your depths. Jaeyun's movements become more assertive, his hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency as he strives to give you the pleasure you deserve.

Sunghoon watches with rapt attention, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jaeyun messily bucking his hips into you, still cautious, but going at a speed that is perfect for you both. 

He can see the pleasure written all over your face, your moans filling the room as Jaeyun drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Sunghoon's smirk widens as he takes in the scene before him, revelling in the shared pleasure between you and Jaeyun.

With each thrust, Jaeyun's cock plunges deeper into you, eliciting a chorus of gasps and moans from both of you. Sunghoon's own arousal surges at the sight, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

For Sunghoon, there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing Jaeyun take control, knowing that he's capable of pleasuring you just as effectively as he can. He understands that Jaeyun likes to be coddled and you also like to coddle him, but in situations like these, your satisfaction is the utmost importance.

If Sunghoon can’t leave with you, he a least wants to make sure you’re being fucked right.

As Jaeyun continues to thrust into you, Sunghoon leans in closer, his voice a low growl of desire. "That's it, Jaeyun. Show her how good you can make her feel," he murmurs, his words fueling Jaeyun's passion even further.

Jaeyun continues to thrust into you with growing confidence and Sunghoon's attention shifts to your stomach, where his cum still glistens on your skin like a badge of ownership. With a hungry look in his eyes, he dips down, his tongue trailing along your abdomen as he licks up his own essence.

You let out a gasp of surprise at the sensation, the warmth of his tongue sending shivers down your spine. Sunghoon's movements are deliberate and sensual, his tongue dancing across your skin as he savours the taste of himself mingled with your arousal still lingering in his mouth.

Jaeyun's thrusts falter for a moment as he watches Sunghoon's intimate ministrations, a flush spreading across his cheeks at the sight. But the sight of you writhing beneath them, lost in pleasure, reignites his passion, and he resumes his rhythm with renewed vigour.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon laps up his cum from your stomach with increasing urgency, each lick more fervent than the last. His movements are messy, driven by the desire to taste every last drop of himself mingled with your sweat and arousal. He's lost in the moment, completely consumed by the act of claiming you in this intimate way.

As he finishes, your stomach now clean, Sunghoon looks up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes, his desire burning brightly. "Open your mouth," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the sensations and unable to fully process his command. Sensing your confusion, Sunghoon's hand slides down your body, his fingers finding your clit and massaging it with expert precision. Your jaw slackens, a moan escaping your lips as you involuntarily obey his command, your mouth opening in response to the pleasure.

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to share the mingled tastes of his cum and your arousal. The kiss is deep and demanding, a testament to the intensity of his desire for you.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he chases his own release. He groans into your ear, the sound vibrating through your body and heightening your pleasure.

Sunghoon finally pulls back from the kiss, his lips lingering close to yours. "That's it, baby girl," he whispers, his voice a seductive growl. "Take everything we give you."

You nod weakly, your body trembling with anticipation and need. The combined sensations of Jaeyun's cock driving into you and Sunghoon's commanding presence are almost too much to bear. You feel yourself hurtling toward another climax, your body tightening in anticipation.

Sensing your nearing orgasm, Jaeyun adjusts his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Sunghoon, not wanting to miss a moment, resumes his attention on your clit, his fingers working in tandem with Jaeyun's movements.

"Cum for us, Y/N," Sunghoon demands, his voice a low growl. "Show us how much you love being filled."

Your body obeys, your orgasm crashing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You cry out their names, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. Your walls tighten around Jaeyun, triggering his own release as he spills into you with a loud groan.

Sunghoon watches with satisfaction, a proud smirk on his lips as he sees you both reach your peak. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still gently stroking your clit as you come down from your high. "That's exactly what we wanted."

As you tremble in the aftermath of your intense orgasm, Jaeyun's moans in ragged gasps, his release still coursing through him. He slowly pulls out, his cum beginning to seep out of you. Without missing a beat, he uses his fingers to gently push his seed back inside, wanting to ensure you remain filled with him, just like you want.

Sunghoon watches Jaeyun's actions with a pleased smile, appreciating his attentiveness. "Good job, Jaeyun," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Now, go grab the water again. Our girl needs to stay hydrated."

Jaeyun nods, quickly getting up to retrieve the glass of water from the bedside table. As he does, Sunghoon turns his full attention back to you, his touch becoming tender and caring. He gently strokes your hair and brushes a few strands away from your face, his eyes softening with concern.

"How are you feeling, baby girl?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to his earlier intensity.

You manage a weak smile, your body still buzzing from the dual sensations of pleasure and exertion. "I’m...good," you breathe out, leaning into his touch.

Sunghoon's lips curve into a warm smile. "Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just relax. We’ll take care of you." He has always been good at aftercare, even when he was shut off from his emotions, it’s just who he is. He might fuck you within an inch of your life, but he will make sure to revive you after.

Jaeyun returns with the water, handing the glass to Sunghoon who carefully brings it to your lips. "Drink up," he instructs softly, his eyes locked on yours to ensure you’re okay.

You take small sips, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Once you’ve had your fill, Sunghoon sets the glass aside and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as Jaeyun takes a seat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh in a comforting gesture.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude.

Jaeyun nods, his eyes filled with affection. "Just rest for now. We’ve got you."

You nod, allowing yourself to relax fully between them, feeling safe and cherished. The intensity of the moment has passed, leaving behind a comforting warmth that envelops all three of you. You close your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, knowing that no matter what, they will always be there to care for you.

As long as you can convince a certain Prince of Hell.

_____

Feeling a comforting weight on your chest, you pry your eyes open to find Jaeyun's head nestled there, his legs entwined around your waist. No - Sunghoon’s legs wrapped around you. He lies beneath you, his shoulder supporting your head, his hand reaching around your neck to scratch Jaeyun's hair.

You can’t believe that this is your life right now, that you could truly be this happy every day for the rest of time. The warmth of their bodies, the thump of your heart echoing your happiness, and the tender connection between all three of you feels like a dream you never want to wake from. Every worry and stress melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. In this moment, you know that this is where you belong, wrapped in the embrace of those you love most.

But as nice as this is, as easy as it is to get lost in their embrace, you know there's still one obstacle in your way to achieving this paradise forever.

Heeseung.

If he doesn’t let Sunghoon go, there's no point in getting your hopes up. This bliss you've found yourself in can be ripped away in an instant if he says no. However, you believe you've got an offer he can’t refuse. 

Sunghoon notices you stirring and presses his lips atop your head, kissing your crown tenderly. “Good morning, baby girl,” he whispers with such softness that it almost blends with the morning air.

Jaeyun looks up with his big eyes and smiles, then kisses a heart pattern on your chest, a ritual he has performed countless times since becoming yours. It’s his unique way of saying good morning and expressing his affection.

You kiss Jaeyun first, your lips lingering as you savour the softness of his petal-like lips. In all your life, you don’t think you will ever tire of the way his plump mouth encloses yours, each kiss a reminder of the deep connection you share.

Turning your head slightly, you find Sunghoon's eyes already gazing at you with a mix of adoration and warmth. You lean in and kiss him next, your lips meeting his in a tender embrace. His kiss is different from Jaeyun’s - firmer, yet filled with the same depth of love. Sunghoon's hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as your mouths move in perfect harmony.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaeyun asks, gently rubbing your arm as you pull away from his best friend.

You nod, sitting up between them as you all shuffle to find comfortable positions. Sunghoon keeps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. There's a flicker of hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes as he watches the love of his life being embraced by someone else, a reminder that while sex might be easy to share, morning cuddles and other gestures of affection are something he'll need time to get used to.

“Yeah, it was amazing,” you say, smiling between both of them, grateful for the peaceful slumber and the two men who left you blissfully exhausted.

Jaeyun smiles warmly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “You look so pretty right now,” he whispers, a daily ritual of his to compliment you in the morning, even when your hair is tousled and some mascara smudges remain from the night before.

Kissing your neck, Sunghoon nods in agreement, “Always.”

God, you could get used to this. But to get used to this, you have to have it.

“I’m going to see if Soonyeol wants to make breakfast,” you say, using it as an excuse to leave the bed, knowing you can’t let them catch onto your true intentions. “If you guys stay here, I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

“We can make yo-”

“No, no. I want to spend some time with her, you know. She’s important to you, and I haven’t spoken to her much,” you interject with a touch of urgency in your voice, masking the true purpose behind your words. It’s a blatant lie, but the underlying intention is genuine; you just won’t act on it at this moment.

Slipping from their grip, you adorn Jaeyun’s t-shirt and Sunghoon's boxers that were hastily discarded last night, tying your hair up, and focus on getting what you want, on what is best for everyone.

_____

Standing apprehensively on the other side of the door, your fist hovers, refusing to knock. The heavy wooden door feels like a barrier not just to Heeseung but to the future you desperately want to secure. Your heart races, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You’re scared, you’ll admit that—no amount of time or mental preparation could make this any less nerve-wracking. Every possible outcome runs through your mind, amplifying your anxiety.

But for Sunghoon, for you and Jaeyun, you’ll suck it up like you always do. You straighten your shoulders and square your jaw, determination settling over your features. Yes, you know what Heeseung can do and what he will ask for, but you can’t let him see any signs of weakness within you.

The sound of your knuckles against the wood echoes in the hallway, and you feel the weight of each passing second. 

“What?” Heeseung's voice pierces through the door, clearly annoyed by the disturbance; you would be too if someone knocked on your door at 6 am, regardless of whether you slept.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves, feeling the weight of your decision. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you nod to yourself, trying to convince the part of you that's crying out, saying this is a bad idea. But determination drives you forward, pushing aside doubts as you prepare to face whatever comes next.

The door creaks slightly as it opens, revealing Heeseung sitting up against the headboard, the sheets tangled around him as though he had a restless night's sleep. The dishevelled state of the room hints that he had company, yet Soonyeol is nowhere in sight; but when he stands up and his naked form reaches your eyes, you can picture everything that went on; or maybe it’s flashbacks to your own rendezvous with the prince. Either way, you feel a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, your pussy weeping instinctively to the raw allure of his present state.

No matter how much you convince yourself that Heeseung has no hold over you anymore, your body proves you to be a liar.

“My pretty girl. Have you come to take me up on the offer finally?” Heeseung's voice carries a hint of amusement as he stares you down, a wicked grin painting his features. Despite the casualness of his words, there's an intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill down your spine. Even as he reaches to grab his boxers, his eyes never leave yours, holding you captive in their dark depths. You're ashamed to admit that your eyes don’t even meet his as you gawk at his delicious length, your body betraying your desire with each passing moment.

Heeseung notices your lustful gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he pumps his cock gently. “So you came for this? I suppose I should have known Jaeyun could never satisfy you,” he says, his voice dripping with smugness as he voices his thoughts. His hand squeezes just before the bell of his cock, emphasising his arousal. “How do you want to take it? On your back or on your knees?”

On your ba-

“No. I didn’t come here for that,” you interject firmly, clamping down on the lascivious thoughts swirling in your head. As easy as it would be to surrender to the temptation, you know in your heart that giving in to him is the last thing you should do, no matter how much your body craves it. You shake off the filth from the crevices of your brain, steeling yourself against the allure of his naked form. The primal urge to submit to him lingers, a constant battle against the rational part of your mind that screams for restraint.

You wonder if it’s a general Prince of Hell thing or a Beelzebub thing that every time you come within 5 feet of him, you’re ready to open every hole you have. The thought makes you shiver, a mix of desire and frustration coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain control.

Heeseung laughs darkly, withdrawing his hand from his shaft and returning to his original task of putting on his boxers. You feel a twinge of disappointment as he packs away his 7-inch friend, but you’re also relieved that you can now concentrate on the matter you came here for.

“So what did you come here for?” he asks, his voice now void of the earlier taunts, as he walks around the end of his bed to stand a meter from you. His demeanour shifts, becoming more attentive and serious, knowing that this is probably worth his time.

“I have a counteroffer,” you proclaim, the tremble in your voice betraying the weight of your proposition.

Heeseung smirks, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh? And what’s that, baby?”

“I want you to let Sunghoon leave with me and Jaeyun today,” you declare, the words hanging in the air as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest.

Heeseung's smirk widens into a mocking laugh, disbelief evident in his expression. The sound echoes in the room, taunting you as if your request is nothing more than a joke. His amusement seems to fill the space, making the air feel heavier with each passing moment.

But you stand your ground, refusing to back down despite his dismissive reaction. Every fibre of your being is focused on this moment, on this plea that could change everything. Though uncertainty gnaws at you, you push it aside, determined to see this through. 

"I'm serious," you insist, your voice firm despite the ripple of anxiety that lingers beneath the surface. Your words twirl in the air, a silent challenge to his disbelief.

Heeseung's laughter fades, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze as he regards you. The intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight, bearing down on you as if searching for any hint of weakness. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to falter under the pressure.

“I already gave you Jaeyun, baby. I hope you’re not taking my kindness for granted?” Heeseung's voice carries a note of warning, his words a reminder of the favour he believes he's already bestowed upon you.

You feel a chill run down your spine at his tone, a subtle threat lingering in the room. It's a stark reminder of the power he holds over you, a reminder that even in this moment of negotiation, you are still at his mercy.

Clearing your throat, you nod, meeting Heeseung's gaze with sincerity. “I don’t take it for granted,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves, “You know I appreciate it.” 

It can never hurt to suck up to a demon and agree with him when you need something from him.

Sucking his teeth, Heeseung hums in acknowledgement of your statement, clearly satisfied with your rebuttal. It's a small concession, but it feels like a victory nonetheless. You exhale slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, but it only lasts a moment because his eyes are back to swirling that red ocean in his stare. He knows now that you didn’t come here empty-handed.

However, before he asks you the inevitable question, he wants to settle his curiosity. “Why Sunghoon when you could stay here and have all of us? You had so much fun here, didn’t you?”

You did, you had the most fun you’ve had your whole life, but that was also when you had no real life back in the city. Now you have Jaeyun with you, and things are different. You wake up happy and you suddenly love the life around you because Jaeyun has a way of painting everything golden even when the skies are grey.

“Because this isn’t about me, this is about Sunghoon,” you admit, sensing Heeseung's curiosity. He gestures for you to explain your thoughts, clearly amused by your confession. “I just think, respectfully to Soonyeol, that he just isn’t… thriving here.”

"You mean because Soonyeol isn't fucking him like a banshee?" Heeseung interjects, his tone laced with sarcasm as he cuts straight to the point.

You flinch at his blunt words, a mixture of shock and discomfort washing over you. Heeseung's crude remark hits a nerve, stirring a mix of emotions within you. 

Sure, that is part of the reasoning in some sense. Sunghoon enjoys having sex, that much is obvious considering he has fucked you in almost every available room in this place, against every nook and cranny he could find, and in every which position he could bend you. Yet, it’s more than that.

He needs to explore his newly found emotions in an environment that will help him express his innermost thoughts and feelings. In this mansion with the same people and the same routine, it can be damaging to some people, and clearly, it is to him. He’s also incredibly lonely, and in a house with three other bodies shouldn’t be the case.

Heeseung’s sigh draws your attention, prompting you to lift your eyes to meet his. “Tell me something, and please, for the love of Lucifer, engage that stupid little brain of yours for once,” he says with a sly grin, though mock disappointment flickers in his gaze. 

Despite his harshness, you feel yourself strangely pulled to him, a tinge of pleasure building within. You blame Jongseong and his punishments for awakening this new love for degradation. 

“Don’t you think it’s irresponsible to let a demon loose in the wild? He is evil and destructive, I mean, you heard how he defied Dis because he hated being told what to do. What if you suffer the same fate, baby?” He feigns concern, using his warped words to make you think differently about Sunghoon and just be trapped in this house with him. 

You’ve caught onto his game and you refuse to play.

“Sunghoon is dif-”

“Don’t say he is different, Y/N. Every red-horned prick is the same, trust me, I am one,” Heeseung scoffs, his tone filled with bitter amusement at your innocent viewpoint on the matter. “We are monstrous and manipulative, it’s our job, and as far as I know, Sunghoon was one of the best. Did he ever tell you about the time he skinned that poor woman alive? Right down to her bones, and all he was ordered to do was snap her neck.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of Heeseung's revelation. You feel a chill run down your spine at the gruesome image he paints, the reality of Sunghoon's past deeds hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

But you know that whoever that was, wasn’t the Sunghoon you saw last night. He did what he had to in order to survive hell’s grip. You know his past is never going to be pretty, and you understand that. Whatever he’s done, whoever he has hurt, it’s in the past, and he's seeking redemption. And if he can't find it from God, he can get it from you.

Crossing your arms, you shift your body language as you guard yourself from Heeseung’s foul plays. “If he is such a threat to humans and as you call it ‘evil and destructive’, why keep him around Soonyeol?”

Heeseung doesn’t expect you to throw such a question at him, his face falling. “Because I can kill him if I need to and he knows that,” he explains, eyes secretly warning you to not push him too far. “But you, precious little you, you wouldn’t hurt one of my flies, he could take advantage of that.” he feigns sincerity, holding a hand over his nonexistent heart.

He speaks about Sunghoon being a manipulator but you’re staring at the master. Heeseung is using condescending tones and sympathetic body language to get you to trust him, a classic Beelzebub manoeuvre.

Returning to your flat those months ago, the weight of your encounter with Heeseung heavy on your mind, you wasted no time delving into research about the demon. The mere mention of his true name sent chills down your spine, and you were determined to uncover the truth behind his dark reputation.

You learned that Beelzebub is a master manipulator, skilled in the art of gaslighting his victims. He preys on their vulnerabilities, convincing them that his offers are the only solution to their problems. With each twisted lie, he tightens his grip on their minds, rendering them helpless to resist his control.

Your knowledge might not be extensive, but you've gained insight into his tactics, leaving you feeling more prepared to confront him, even if you're relying heavily on feigned confidence. After spending two months in close quarters with him, you've gleaned enough to believe that if anyone can outmanoeuvre this Prince of Hell, it's you.

“You said you don’t break promises,” you assert, redirecting the conversation to the purpose of your visit.

“And what promise have I made to you, baby?” he questions, a smirk playing on his lips.

“None yet, but once I give you something, you have to keep your promise.”

His eyebrow arches in intrigue, his manner shifting as he leans forward, assessing you with renewed interest. “You’re going to have to offer more than just your pretty little pussy for me to grant you Sunghoon.”

Of course, you're aware that indulging his desires likely played a significant role in his decision to allow Jaeyun to accompany you home last time. You understand that it will take something substantial, something unique to you, to strike a deal with him. Sunghoon might not be Soonyeol’s top priority as of late but he still offers her something she needs and Heeseung isn’t going to let that up easily.

“My soul. Take it.”

A heavy silence settles in the air, thick with tension as you lay out your offer. Your gut churns with unease, a nagging sensation urging you to retract your proposition and flee from the impending consequences. Meanwhile, the voice of your beloved Jaeyun echoes in your mind, pleading with you to abandon the deal and escape this precarious situation with a quick "sike," finger-gunning your way out of harm's reach.

Yet, despite the turmoil raging within you, you remain resolute. You've made your decision, and you're determined to see it through, even if it means silencing Jaeyun's protests and disregarding the warnings of your own instincts. It may seem foolish to press forward, but your love for Sunghoon eclipses any doubts or fears.

For you, this is more than just a risky gamble—it's a chance to offer Sunghoon a lifeline, a path to the freedom and happiness he so desperately craves. And if you didn't seize this opportunity, if you didn't at least try to give him a shot at a better life by your side, how could you ever live with yourself?

Heeseung steps forward, his movements sleek and predatory. “You would give me your soul for a demon’s freedom? I know I fucked you good, but I didn’t know I fucked you dumb,” he taunts, his eyes gleaming with a sinister red hue as Beelzebub comes to the forefront.

A chill runs down your spine as he speaks, his mocking tone cutting through the air like a knife. You feel a knot of fear tighten in your chest, but before you can react, he flicks his finger with a casual gesture and the door behind you clicks shut, the sound echoing ominously in the silence of the room. Your heart skips a beat as panic floods your senses, realisation dawning that you're now trapped, alone with a demon whom you’ve just offered your soul.

You’ve had calmer Sundays, that’s for sure.

Your voice quivers slightly as you press forward, determination warring with the creeping sense of dread. "I'm serious. Tell me your terms. Ten years? Twenty? When will you claim it from me if I do this?" you ask, though the strength in your tone wavers as Heeseung looms closer, his presence suffocatingly familiar, much like yesterday.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes Heeseung's lips, shaking his head in amusement. “Baby, you think you have it all figured out,” he mocks, stepping even closer, if that's even possible. Your instinct to create some distance is rendered powerless as you stay transfixed in place, his proximity overwhelming.

His chest presses against yours, the closeness sending a shiver down your spine as if you're seconds away from dancing a lover's tango. “I’ll tell you what will happen, and I’ll let you make the final call, since I’m in a good mood,” he adds, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.

You swallow hard, steeling yourself for whatever he's about to reveal, knowing that your fate - and Sunghoon's - hangs in the balance.

"Here's the deal," Heeseung begins, his tone laced with a predatory edge. "I'll grant Sunghoon his freedom, no strings attached to me or Soonyeol," he begins, his words initially sounding like a lifeline, but the following conditions twist your stomach into knots. "But you surrender yourself to me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to process the weight of his demand. The tension in the air is palpable, suffocating you as you grapple with the impossible choice before you.

"Good news is, your soul stays in your body, but that body? Oh, Sweetheart, that belongs to me," Heeseung continues, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction.

“But-”

"Don’t fucking interrupt me," he commands, his voice lowering to a menacing octave.

Mumbling a quick apology, you bite down on your lip, forcing yourself to remain silent, lest you incur his wrath further.

Heeseung's terms hang heavy in the air, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "You do as I say. If I say jump, you ask how high. If I say to kill someone, you do it and thank me for the opportunity. I’m not being cruel, these are my terms for everyone."

That means Soonyeol too. It makes you wonder what on earth he has made her do while she has been under his control. Perhaps that two-month trip was more sadistic than you once thought.

The reality of the situation sinks in, and you realise that agreeing to his terms means surrendering not only your freedom but your very humanity. It's a choice that no amount of love for Sunghoon can make easy.

You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for his response. "How long for?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing deep down that the answer may haunt you for eternity.

"Forever. Even after you die, you’re mine," Heeseung replies, his tone carrying a weight of finality that sends a chill down your spine.

The reality of the situation crashes over you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. The prospect of being forever tethered to Heeseung, subject to his whims and desires for all eternity, fills you with a sense of dread and despair. And yet, despite the overwhelming fear and uncertainty, there's a perverse allure to his offer. The magnetic pull he has on you, the intoxicating blend of danger and desire, whispers seductively in the depths of your mind. It's a dark and twisted fascination, one that you can't seem to shake no matter how hard you try. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you gather your courage and issue your counterproposal, determined to protect the ones you love from the potentially devastating consequences of your agreement. "If I say yes, you need to promise me that whatever you instruct me to do won’t hurt the people I love," you assert, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your request.

The audacity of your bargaining with a Prince of Hell is not lost on you. It's a bold move, one born out of desperation and fueled by a newfound determination to safeguard those closest to your heart. You can't help but marvel at your own bravery, even as uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your resolve, considering the closest you’ve seen to a haggle is two ladies trying to buy a bronze teapot on Bargain Hunt, you’d say this was a little out of your comfort zone.

Heeseung considers your proposal, his gaze flickering as he weighs the implications of your condition. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he pieces your words together, “Oh… Oh, you’re good, baby,” he begins, a chuckle escaping his lips before he continues, “Asking me to not hurt your loved ones so then I can’t touch you or the two Bratz dolls. You are not as dumb as I pegged you to be earlier.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and perverse satisfaction swirling in the pit of your stomach. As he leans closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, “Fucking hell, you turn me on.” You can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline at his words and the realisation that you may have just outmanoeuvred a Prince of Hell. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but at this moment, it feels like the only option you have.

“So deal?”

Jaeyun’s voice floods your ears like a bad case of tinnitus, his shrieks bouncing inside your skull. But he is not here in your presence like last time, he can’t save you from Heeseung this time.

“Deal.”

_____

You walk back into the room to find Jaeyun and Sunghoon sitting on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a heated game on Jaeyun's Switch. Jaeyun's brow is furrowed in concentration, his thumbs moving rapidly across the buttons, while Sunghoon, surprisingly adept for a first-timer, wears a smug grin.

"How are you this good?" Jaeyun mutters, frustration seeping into his voice as Sunghoon wins yet another round.

Sunghoon chuckles, his pride evident. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

Watching them, you feel a warm sense of contentment. You think about what your life will be like with the two of them. There's a simplicity to the way they interact, a normalcy that almost makes you forget the supernatural forces that bind you all together.

Jaeyun, with his easy-going nature and inherent kindness, has always been your rock. His innocence is something you cherish deeply. On the other hand, Sunghoon, with his intensity and passion, brings out a side of you that's fierce and unapologetic. The thought of balancing these two very different but complementary forces fills you with a sense of adventure and anticipation.

Should you tell them that it was Heeseung you spoke with? Sunghoon would surely know you had to make some sacrifice to get Heeseung to agree. Jaeyun doesn't know about Heeseung's true identity or the lengths you went to ensure your collective happiness. The thought of deceiving them, even for their own good, weighs heavily on your conscience.

As you step into the room, they look up, pausing their game. "Where did you go?" Sunghoon asks, his eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. You said you were going to make breakfast with Soonyeol, but you were away for a long time, too long for that matter.

"Just a walk," you replied, climbing into the bed between them. Their warmth enveloped you from both sides, a comforting presence amidst your swirling thoughts. You savored the feeling for a moment, then turned to Sunghoon. "Are you okay with car journeys?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart pounded in your chest.

"I think so," Sunghoon replied, a hint of confusion lacing his voice. "Why?"

"Because it's a long drive back to the city," you said, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. What if he changed his mind and you’ve just sold your soul to Beelzebub?

Sunghoon's eyes widened as he processed your words. "You mean...?" he trailed off, disbelief and hope mingling in his expression.

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes. You're coming with us."

Sunghoon's expression morphed into one of pure elation. "How did you...? Did you speak to Heeseung?" His question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

You forced a smile, praying your lie would be convincing. "Actually, I spoke to Soonyeol. But anyway, what matters is that you're coming with us." You deflected any more questions, shaking your head to signal you didn't want to delve into the details.

Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you softly, the affection in his touch making your heart swell. His lips were tender against yours, a stark contrast to the raw intensity you often shared. It amazed you how a demon could feel so deeply that he almost seemed human.

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, pouted and tossed his controller aside. He scrambled over, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around both of you. "My two favourite people!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he squeezed you both tightly.

You revelled in the embrace, feeling Jaeyun's hug against your side and Sunghoon's steady warmth pressing into you. This moment, this tender connection, was everything you had fought for. 

As you lay there between them, you wondered how your life would change. The future seemed both daunting and exhilarating. You imagined the three of you navigating the complexities of your relationships, finding joy in the simple moments, and facing the inevitable challenges together. Could you balance the love and care they both needed? Would they understand the compromises you had to make to keep you all together?

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching for yours. "Are you sure you're okay? You really didn’t speak to Heeseung?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His worry is that you did something rash, something to put your life at risk.

You nodded, the sincerity in his gaze making your chest tighten with emotion because you know you're lying to him. “No I didn’t. I just asked Soonyeol to convince him."

Sunghoon's smile widened as he accepts your lie as the truth, and he kissed you again. Jaeyun, not to be outdone, leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. "I'm so glad we're all going back together," he murmured.

The three of you stayed entwined for a while, the silence filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of your breathing. Eventually, Sunghoon and Jaeyun begin to get up to start packing, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your life was about to become a whirlwind of new experiences, challenges, and unknowns. Yet, despite the looming uncertainty, a thrill of excitement coursed through you. Your life was about to become a living hell, but as you watched the two boys move around the room, your heart swelled with a sense of anticipation. 

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

Maybe, just maybe, it was a hell worth living for.

[talaok]

Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-" 

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?" 

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel" 

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

[amuseoffyre]

I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

[punkbarbarian]

for folks who don’t follow them on instagram— ally beardsley wrote part of an op-ed in the washington post for the 50th dnd anniversary about a moment playing dnd that really stuck with them and i wanted to share it here!

“a character’s journey — and my own”

I was an aspiring comedian in Los Angeles and had just landed a salaried job at the comedy website CollegeHumor. My co-worker and friend Brennan Lee Mulligan was looking for six comedians to create a show that would be like an at-home game of D&D. Why not? “Dimension 20” became a weird punctuation to my day.

I remember there being too many rules to remember. I kept turning to my friend, Brian Murphy, to ask which dice I should be rolling. I wasn’t paid overtime, but I loved the group and was having a lot of fun.

For the second season, I had my sea legs. I created a character for the campaign who was transgender. I had started going by the gender neutral they/them pronouns at work and among friends, but sourcing hormones or getting surgery seemed equal parts expensive and invasive. A fun thing about fantasy is stripping away the crunchy, real-world limitations and asking yourself: “What would I do if I could do anything?”

That season’s arc for my character, Pete, was extremely euphoric for me. I had described him as a trans cowboy you might see at Burning Man, and the artist drew him dressed as a freaky Hunter S. Thompson in an open shirt to show his top surgery scars. He has wild magic — uncontrollable and dangerous in the game mechanics — which we used to explore the painful chaos of leaving a family that doesn’t accept you.

Since then, I’ve started testosterone HRT and had top surgery. It’s funny to listen back to myself playing a character who had transitioned in ways I hadn’t. It’s full of inaccuracies that make me smile. Pete takes a testosterone pill every day; I now know it’s a weekly injection or a topical gel. I see my face, one wrapped up in playing something so new but instantly right. It was like an oracle. A near-future me who has health insurance! Who’s talked to their mom about being trans and even spent a week post-top surgery on that mom’s couch in Temecula, Calif!

As I started transitioning my appearance, seeing that in front of the camera felt raw. I was starting hormones, and my voice was cracking. Realizing it was all being recorded felt naked at times, but it has been really nice to talk to fans and friends about how important it is to see someone that looks like you taking a big risk on themself.

With Pete, it was really important to me to tell a story other than the dramatic lead-up to a medical transition. So we started with him having just gotten out of surgery, but that’s all you see of that process. Part of his backstory is that he doesn’t have a relationship with his transphobic parents, and before shooting the first episode, I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve been on a journey with my parents, and our starting place didn’t have much common ground. When my character meets with his father, it felt as though I was actually running into my own on the street.

Brennan could sense that discomfort, and as my character’s dad was about to call Pete by his deadname, Brennan shut the interaction down, surrounding his dad with bubbles that carried him into the sky. Magic is the power and freedom to manipulate your reality, and you can banish the awful voices in your life — let them swirl away into the air.

[rafecameroninterlude]

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Session 2 of 10|Previous Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.1k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone would be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone was brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely couldn't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise was needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lacked yourself—otherwise, they wouldn't last a second with Gojo.

It'd be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also didn't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else could take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there it goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she couldn't handle him but because she was your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually cared about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she didn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else.

Burdening her was completely out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'? You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really had to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she could was her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you're quick to blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or were Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth was killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach put the final nail in the coffin as she reminded you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you needed help would be silly because technically it was true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break long ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It was better than nothing because if you couldn't function, Gojo couldn't be cared for.

And when you really think about it, who better to fill in for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock since you started at the ward, She's had your back, sticking with you through tough times at work when staff constantly dipped in and out of the facility like a rotating door after being unable to handle the job.

A real day one.

Next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patiently in check.

It'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest."

She's too kind and right in more ways than one.

"Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend, you think?"

Your eyes roll—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

You don't know whether to joke back or wave her off, softly smiling at her concern instead before nodding. You vow to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges. Almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks on the interstate, hogging the road, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheerful nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers, lulling you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of the melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the foamy bubbles, when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from surprise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike swept into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body said nothing was. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out heading straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean floors due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you were used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you needed to. The truth is painfully clear.

It's disrespectful even to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong, and your heart feels as if it'll burst from your chest any moment now just thinking about it. Crushing guilt wrapped you in its clutches, but it was nothing compared to the pain you might've caused.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, heart beating into your ears making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet with each step until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth becoming suddenly dry mouth when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you as attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a hammer.

Someone as kind as her, so full of light, love, and joy, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil was still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he tugs and pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and you can feel the tense stares. The unspoken judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

You don’t know if the murmurs are real or only in your head, but the effect is all the same, making you wish you could completely vanish.  You stand like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

Gojo brims with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. As if he's daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face making you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, something...uncertain lurks behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knew he had done something wrong.

Words escape you, as if anything even needs to or could be said. But fear and guilt soon turn to anger and threatens to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust.

You are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself.

Your fists clench as you hold back tears. 

What was done was done. And someone needed to pay.

But you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at the results of what happened the last time you decided to punish Gojo. All of your actions, even now, rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

You push down the knot growing in your stomach and turn away to follow the medics.

Your friend needed you more than you needed revenge.

And Gojo didn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it meant risking your job or even your life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbered thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained makes you nervous—you don't want anyone else to get hurt and Gojo knows that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm.

But it's an obviously losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

He sees no one else in the room, eyes locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it'll never be enough. Not even the goddamn military. Gojo...is the strongest, after all.

"Stop this."

Your cry freezes the room, plunging everything into a tense silence.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

You take a deep, shaky breath, silently apologizing to Yuko.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic.

But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes in surprise, amazement even, then smiles.

The submission in your voice sounded better than he could ever imagine. Like sweet music feeding his already inflated ego.

The guards exchange uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, and it's evident that restraining him forever is not possible.

And you know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this was your doing. Your mess to clean up.

You squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling to the guards to let him go. They hesitate, then reluctantly agree and step back, leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

You close your eyes and breathe, hating the idea of looking at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. And everyone else in the ward.

Gojo's satisfied grin says it all.

Let's get this over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head off if he wanted to.

Still Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, surprisingly, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And there was no need to ask why. The entire ward shot daggers at you any time someone walked by now.

She reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then patted your back as if to say, "lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding the half-pill out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering, he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting.

You took a deep breath and placed them both on your tongues, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity to feel you and closed his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed without needing the water you had set aside, a confusing mix of emotions churning as it spread through the rest of your body.

He made good on his promise and swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing look. And damn him, he's probably still thinking about it.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo. A stereotypical hint lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers. And laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around the face him, furious. Debating on whether to slap him, kick him, or knock his teeth out. Or be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water. A move you know would do no good but show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny. You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend."

His laugh fades, smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches.

...the hell is this??

You squint at him.

The words were muttered, reluctant, but there they were, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races when you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue rather than waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Now you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that. Stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he truly meant them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns, along with that smile that twists your stomach into knots.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it was, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind other than frustration.

Damn it, you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your little kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." He finishes with a wink.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory. A fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands, the jarring evidence of him not as invincible as he seems. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," and he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. But it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers into the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and feel sick even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward, lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water but the rustling fabric as he pulls the shirt over his head and pants to the ground sends heat to your cheeks.

He certainly isn't lacking in physique, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. So cute trying to hide away your thoughts.

You toss in his loofah, "Well...go on. Your water's ready." But Gojo can only grin, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Still managing to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the swirling conflict in your easy heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he just refuses to turn off. Everything was always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. He picks up a handful and actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away.

His pale eyes flutter, settling on you in a curious way.

He leans, arms flexing over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with this ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him managing to still be so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society, tf did you think??", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with bubbles.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster. Still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

But then again, this was your job...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption, no matter how twisted they seem.

Loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before gently washing his back.

He sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of his marked skin between the foam and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to the dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won. Evidence of his past before corruption. Everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

This is another first for you, this level of care. Gojo usually just hops into the shower and takes care of himself as you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably gets stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs and making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his lower region, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery so he can handle this himself.

You ignore his comment, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You're humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

You want to scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

The water feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" his velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, down his sides, rhythm almost hypnotic and making the man's head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, to try to regain your slipping control, but you're in a losing battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

ANd God, he has to bite his lip at your touch that feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again. You've been hit not once, but twice in a day—a new personal record.

Instinctively, you reach up to shield yourself, the loofah slipping from your hand, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream prepares to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand and places a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." He swipes a lone droplet hanging from your eyelash. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, nerves on fire as you're forced into this close proximity for the second time today. Inches away from his face that softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better but he never felt threatened in the first place.

Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach. His finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

"Now," his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, "You're so very good at your job, Nurse." He smoothly pulls it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to my strength, let alone deal with me yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel.

"You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of it, any of this.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will fare against me then, hmm?"

Gojo knows he's a prodigy, yet he still manages to surprise himself sometimes, eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter. He almost feels a prick from the daggers you throw with your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that, Nurse," and he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

Gojo slightly tilts his head.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing.

Instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, salacious, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark. Wondering what his idea of "fun" was like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, instead you burn between your legs.

Fuck, you've got to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. Gruffing, you lower to your knees and begin drying the floor of his messes, hoping to distract you from your questionable sanity.

Rustling fabric fills the chamber as he dries off, and when you figure it's safe, you look up to a nude Gojo. Still dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Ah, let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

Standing on your tiptoes to reach it, a sliver of your midriff peeked out, but what captured his attention most was the way the sun rays washed your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of them between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your sentiment was...odd.

This was the first time anyone had cared to do something so simple for Gojo. And the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict and Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?"

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward now, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off and who could blame her?

You were the anomaly he chose to show mercy to and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova." She cleared her throat and did a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way the stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you scramble to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall taking deep breaths, completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, Yuko, flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's all just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurer in the shadows awaiting your every move.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, deep-diving the web for information on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

The man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible. Conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own sanity. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax, sleeping eluding you and mind wandering to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to seem him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[anantaru]

riled up alhaitham hiding his jealousy from us? hehe

cw. jealous alhaitham, he doesn't get jealous okay!!! lots of teasing, fem! reader

you are aware that alhaitham doesn't get jealous, for anybody to even assume that should be vehemently questioned— but this time, he hesitates to voice anything out loud in an usually apathetic manner, rather does he resort to kiss your bare shoulder lightly, working meticulously as his kisses remain soft and faint.

that night, alhaitham was more silent than usual, it's like he had been deep in thought while also being closely intimate with you, "how insolent," he sighs out, grinding himself against all the right spots to make you arch into him.

you bow your hips deliciously into his shaft as he continues, "to think that someone would actually pursue you in front of me," poising on the edge of a witty continuation, you make him float back to reality the moment you dug your nails into his bare back, cutting him from his thoughts slightly.

"are you jealous?" you taunt, a slight crease appearing above your brow as he playfully smacks the plush of your ass, needy and urgent splitting your legs to settle in between.  

he looks a little agitated as he answered, "who, me?" he leisurely rubs his cock-head through your wet folds before pressing into your clit a little, as to tickle and trace around the fragile nubs, "don't make a fool out of yourself with such claims,"

"i do not get jealous," he says, simply, enough demand in his voice that it made you tremble a bit— and perhaps it also hurt in a way, for alhaitham to say that he couldn't possibly become jealous because of another person hitting on you in front of his eyes.

although it was hard to believe he didn't get at least a little irked— especially now when he's fierce and hungry and full of need and want for you.

alhaitham moves his hand before running it up and down your hips, clearly he's too impatient to taunt you tonight, but he still does it because he needs to keep up the act.

and it's not like he doesn't understand the brittle emotions he was going through right now— it's that those certain frames of ones mind vexed him, not to mention that they made it all the more difficult to focus on the current moment, which was you.

"p-please," you can hardly string two syllables together, your mouth hanging open as his lips curl into a smirk when he notices goosebumps quiver along your skin, "please, what?" the man retorts back, his rigid erection sliding up and down your soaked folds while making sure to nudge against your hole ever so often.

"just, ugh, just get to it," you pout, "please!" your body was telling him everything he needed to know as you writhe against his rattling trace, now warm and slick with arousal sticking on your hole and ass.

alhaitham grinds his rock-hard member against your clit, his hand suddenly letting go off your hip to grab his dick as he began to thrust it into the tunnel of his palm.

he towers over your body to rest against the nook of your neck, low chuckles ghosting into your ear, "you're not getting anything tonight," he coos, "or are you?" nipping and tonguing a spot where your ear meets your neck while he adds pressure on his shaft, resulting in him groaning into your ear hungrily, the pure filth in his tone finding a new focus for your cravings.

"what're you gonna do about it, hm?" he whispers as you moan,  surging, seeking, your fingers threading into his hair to force him to look at you.

"you're mean," you claim, your legs writhing as he inserts his tip in your hole, your voice already distant, drowning in pleasure when he begins to fuck you with his red hued tip.

alhaitham laughs lovingly at your crystallized mind, your scent was pungent on his nostrils as he moans brokenly at your familiar taste. he truly savors the moment when you draw him into your hole just hard enough to mark his cock with your arousal.

listening to the mellow rings in his vocalization was like a gold string tugging on an angel-like puppet— it's immediate when it tugs you from your dazed mind right back into him.

"no one could make be get jealous," alhaitham turns his entire focus to your lower half, "because i trust you," slowly inserting inches after inches of his shaft, "you're mine, this is mine, there's no one that can change that," he adds in a raspy tonality before you arch your back to grind into him, grinning against his mouth, melting at his words.

"but i am *not* jealous," well, there it was again.

but it's his turn to moan into your mouth as his grunts mingle softly in the air, his lips smirking, more ideas forming, "so do not ever say that again,"

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[queenariesofnarnia]

never underestimate the bunny

gif not mine!

wc: 642ish

Alastor x f!bunny!reader

warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending

🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.

“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”

a/n: here’s pt 2 that no one asked for but i felt like doing :)