#ten still gets a lot of the lines but i feel like all the boys were given their respective times to shine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

splaede · 8 months ago

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AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 6) (18+)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER SIX. armin's first

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: Things get heated. Things get so, so heated.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: smut (p in v sex, fingering), fem bodied reader, loss of virginity, petting, literally most of this is foreplay

wc: 9.7k

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

In the dim of your living room, your eyes could only see him. And right here, on the plush of your couch, your body only knew his.

Armin held you, secured you, and grounded you, strong arms snaked around your waist as you became all too aware of your intermingling bodies. The squish of your thighs against his, the unashamed press of your tits against his chest, the weight of his breaths against your lips…

You could still feel the tingle on your lips where he’d last kissed you, a ghost of his touch.

Above you, the clock ticked louder and louder in your ears, louder than the blood that rushed to muffle your hearing and the pounding of your pulse, a looming reminder that it was late. That you had work in the morning. That you were running out of time.

That you shouldn’t be doing this.

Another sound intruded on you. A voice, his voice, running rampant in the back of your head.

Will your roommate be home soon?

The fact that he’d asked that question…just what did he want?

And on top of that, you had already confirmed that, no, your roommate wasn’t going to be home any time soon. In fact, she wasn’t going to be home at all, meaning you’d have the entire night with him alone, undisturbed.

Sitting here, Armin quietly eyed you, curious and content yet half-lidded and torn by lust. He suddenly silenced your thoughts with a kiss, swooping in hard, teeth clashing, causing you to instinctively grab his face to ease him down.

The kiss oozed of messiness, an exchange of saliva and wet, meshed-together lips that barely held any rhythm. The feeling consumed you fully—the warmth and fervent press of his lips—as you slowly guided him.

Lost in the intensity, you instinctively swiped your tongue against his bottom lip. He jolted, pulling away.

You thought that was so cute of him, seeing him like this. So ironically innocent.

“S—sorry,” he stuttered out, a bashful look on his face.

Your brows furrowed, worried that you had done something wrong. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s just….” He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “God, I’m so nervous.”

Squeezing your hands on his shoulders, you reassured him, “It’s okay. We can go slow.”

“Okay.”

Armin smiled up at you, so sweetly and boyishly—so contradictory to the thoughts you’d been having about him. But even so, he was still nothing like the little boy you’d known. Not when he was gazing at you with that blush, reddened and far-gone, and that glint of lust—that hunger—in his eyes.

You still couldn’t believe he was here with you. If you’d known you’d be kissing your childhood friend ten years down the line, you’d probably flip out in disbelief.

But he’d matured so much from then. That boy was nothing like the man under you, holding onto you. Nothing like how tempting and alluring and irresistible he looked right now.

His palms flexed around your waist, once, then twice, then dragged up the sides of your torso, slowly, almost mindlessly, then back down. Pressed up like this, chest-to-chest, you could feel the racing of his heart so hard that you felt yourself rattling. And even though his hands had stopped shaking, the fast, repetitive thump inside his chest told you more than anything else ever would.

Sitting in silence, hearts beating out of sync, you let him roam your body like that. Slowly and hesitantly, like he hadn’t quite fully grasped the situation.

"You're a good friend,” he mumbled quietly, no longer meeting your eyes, fixated on where he was touching you instead.

Cheeks heating up at the praise, you shuddered with a laugh that sounded a little too strained and nervous.

You were a good friend? No, he was a good friend. He was the whole reason you wanted to do this in the first place. A good, caring, considerate friend that you would never turn down even if it meant putting your friendship on the line.

“I trust you. I wouldn’t ask anyone else this,” he continued.

Breathing in deep, you cupped his face affectionately. “No, please, you’re so good to me. How can I say no to you?”

His hands stilled, and you could see how his eyes instantly softened. Armin’s right hand fiddled with the hem of your shirt, eyes meeting yours momentarily before darting away.

“Thank you. So…can we keep going?”

Your lips lifted into a small smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness. “Yeah, um. Do you…want to try using tongue now?”

As soon as you’d finished that sentence, you fought down the nervous, embarrassed lump that rose to your throat. It couldn’t get any more straightforward than that.

“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly and nodded.

“Slowly, okay? We’re just gonna ease into it. When I lick your lips, open your mouth a little. And then after that, it’s like…” You swallowed, tensing. “Um, I don’t really know how to explain it. Just try to match me.”

He gazed at you with so much anticipation that you could almost taste it. Sliding your hands back onto his shoulders, you latched onto his lips again.

This time, there wasn’t a rush. Just slow, methodical, and relaxed movement as you relished the softness of his lips. You loved this feeling. Soft and sweet, like him.

His hands began roaming your body again, starting from the sides of your chest down to the tops of your thighs. His palms slightly brushed the outer parts of your breasts, but it was still nowhere close to where you really wanted him.

You took this as a cue to mimic him, hands gliding down to his biceps where you gave him a light squeeze. Even though you knew he worked out, you were still surprised to feel the dips and tautness of hard muscle. It wasn’t that you forgot, it was that you didn’t normally expect it from Armin, someone usually so nice and mellow.

As you trailed down his stomach, you could feel the defined ridges of his abs under your splayed palms, and you swore you almost moaned. For someone with such a cute face, he had such a strong body.

When your tongue finally soothed over his bottom lip, he parted his lips ever-so-slightly. And the moment you slipped your tongue in, he let out a small noise that was so, so quiet. Your tongues met, warm and wet.

You could tell he was hesitant, but you continued at the same pace, slowly licking into him and swiping your tongue over his. He’d completely stilled, hands etching themselves harder into your waist. As you were letting yourself taste him, something tugged on your heart, weighing heavy.

Because it dawned on you that you were making out with Armin.

Something so intimate and passionate like this could only be reserved for lovers, not for friends.

Armin reluctantly slipped his hands under your shirt. Just right there, right at the threshold of your torso and not any further, like he was testing the waters. He held you there, only tasting. Your breath hitched, startled by the warmth of his fingers, but the flow of the kiss remained the same.

The pressure of his tongue was soothing as it moved against yours, and he was getting the hang of it little by little. And the moment it seemed to click—where it felt like you’d reached the perfect rhythm and the perfect amount of energy—you moaned into his mouth to let him know he was doing good. Thank God he was a fast learner.

Cradling his neck into your arms and threading your fingers into his hair, you rolled your hips into him experimentally, pelvises meeting. You heard him inhale sharply, but he didn’t break the kiss. He only tightened his hold on you, pushing you down slightly as he rolled his hips, matching you.

The friction felt so undeniably good. You knew he felt good, too, because you could feel the area of his crotch stiffen under you.

It was like that for a while, the two of you grinding on each other, so focused on outdoing the other that the kiss wasn’t even a kiss anymore. Just a mix of messy lips and hitched moans and saliva. So much so that you had to wipe away the drool at the corner of his mouth.

You were the first to pull away for air.

“How was it?” he instantly asked, licking his lips. They were swollen, and that gave you the urge to kiss him again.

“Just a little messy. But good. You did good for your first time.” You laughed.

He laughed with you, bringing a thumb to swipe over the corner of your mouth. “Sorry about that.”

Just like that, the two of you shared a cute moment, and you began to think that nothing would change between you—that you two would still be friends and embrace these moments no matter what.

As the atmosphere from your makeout session died down, you were left with one final thought.

What now?

“Hey…” you started. You didn’t even know how to word this. Do you know where this is going? Do you even want to keep going?

You stood up, all too abruptly like you were running on autopilot as your brain tried to catch up with your body, hands detaching from his neck and thighs from his lap. You looked at him warily, wedged between the coffee table and his parted legs.

Armin frantically stood up, too, half hard in his pants as he reached for your forearm. “Something wrong?”

It was late, you remembered again.

But now, in this lapse of judgment, you guessed it didn't matter if you should or shouldn't continue. Not when he was staring at you, pleading with his eyes—with his body. You could almost hear his heart thumping out of his chest.

You wondered if he could hear yours, too.

“Um,” you trailed off, wondering how to save yourself.

Before you had the chance to recollect your thoughts, Armin cut you off. “Sorry, um. I mean, I know it’s late…if that’s what you were going to say. I should probably go. You did say I should only stay for a little bit—”

“No—wait, no.” You pressed a palm to his chest.

Armin subtly tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you had work in the morning?”

“I know, but...” Your eyes trailed down to his crotch, suddenly guilty. “Do you want to stay?”

He regarded you with a look of uncertainty, hands hovering beside your arms like he was about to hold you. “Yeah…?”

“Then…what do you want to do?” It came out in a slight whisper, and you instantly wanted to slap yourself for that question because, one, it was definitely the wrong question. All you wanted was clarity as to whether he knew where this was going, and two, what did you mean by what he wanted to do?

You could feel his eyes burning into your head, but yours were averted to where the neckline of his tee dipped down to reveal his collarbone.

He gulped. “What do I want to do?” he parroted, breathing in a steady breath. “Um…what do you mean?”

You pursed your lips, knowing you were going to sound desperate. “Was kissing…all you wanted to do?”

He looked visibly taken aback now, lashes fluttering as his eyes flitted over your form in surprise.

“No…”

“Then what?”

Maybe you really were desperate as you stood here so close to him, pushing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache.

“Well, I think—I think you know,” he mumbled shamefully. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it. Please? I just want to be sure.”

He pursed his lips, too, while contemplating, flushed a deep pink on his cheeks. “I want us to…go the whole way. I want you.” He cleared his throat. “To teach me.”

For a long moment, you were convinced you stopped breathing.

It was so loud now. Your heartbeat was so unbearably loud, reverberating and bursting through your ears. A breathless silence filled the room.

He didn't waver. Not once. He only gazed straight into your eyes—straight through you, irises deep and blue and overwhelming and darkened by lust. He'd lost that innocent, bright shine long ago.

The beat of your heart only quickened, even quicker than what it already was.

Was this it? Was this the next step? Was this it after all of those needy kisses and flimsy touches and longing, vulnerable stares?

Nevertheless, a sense of relief washed over you. You wanted this, too, despite the fact that you were risking something precious to you. Something irreversible.

Not that'd you stop now.

And then you were onto him, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. He returned it just as quickly, rough and intimate. His hands slid to your waist and held you tight against his body while you clung onto him like it was the end of the world.

Licking his lips teasingly, you murmured in between the kiss, “My room.”

He broke away a little, muttering a little “okay” before you cut him off by pressing your mouth back onto his.

When you pulled away, he surprised you with his next words.

“Can I carry you?”

Without hesitation, you lightly jumped onto him, and he caught you, carrying you effortlessly in his strong arms. You loved the feeling of his hands on the back of your thighs, firm and warm. He was so surprisingly muscly that you wanted to squeal.

The walk wasn’t far in your small apartment space, and you quickly found yourself being placed gingerly onto your bed and your limbs untangling from his body. He stood there like he didn’t quite know what to do. You scooted back onto your pillows, beckoning him to come closer.

“Get on top of me.” You tugged on the front of his tee. “Like this.”

He stumbled onto your bed, settling in between your legs as his hands braced him up. You tugged him even closer still, and he fell to his forearms.

You looked up at him only to find him blushing, a dark, rosy color tinting the apples of his cheeks, watching you with eager eyes as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

Heat bubbled in your stomach. “Are you sure you want to do this? Remember, this is…this is for you. This is about how you feel.”

“I’m sure,” he answered quickly.

Then, Armin kissed you for the millionth time tonight, but this time, it was short yet thorough, like he just missed your taste.

“Kiss me on my neck,” you urged, craning your head. “Just don’t leave any marks.”

Armin dipped down instantly, but he stilled for the next second, hesitantly staring at your neck. The conviction finally hit him and his lips met your skin, ticklish and titillating and warm. He peppered slow kisses along the juncture of your neck, leaving one long, suckling kiss—one hard enough to make you feel good but soft enough not to leave a mark. You could tell he was unsure about his movements, so you softly grabbed him by the hair to bring him to a specific spot.

“Right—ah—there. Yeah,” you assured him as he gave another suckling kiss.

“Is this good?” he asked timidly into your skin, and you could feel the tickle of where his lips moved.

You hummed in response. “It’s good. You’re doing good,” you replied, words tumbling out of your mouth in an awkward way.

He pulled away, and his eyes raked over your form, suddenly stopping at your chest. While you should’ve been excited, something else happened. Something like dismay filled his eyes as his brows twitched downwards.

“Is this Eren’s sweater?”

Oh.

“Yeah?” you weakly breathed out, voice pitched a higher octave than you’d like.

His eyes flitted back to your face again, still strewn with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but knew wasn’t good.

“Can I take it off?” he asked, pawing the hem of your sweater. He seemed confident almost, but you knew that the barely discernible, nervous strain in the thrum of his voice gave it all away.

You nodded wordlessly like the air had been punched out of your lungs.

Armin grabbed onto the hem of your sweater with both hands, peeling it off you so slowly that you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or just simply nervous. Your stomach coiled in anticipation the farther he went, with each inch of skin he revealed. He was so agonizingly slow—or maybe you were so impatient that it felt like time had slowed down—yet the rush of cool air against your torso was instant.

The moment he reached your bra, your heart seemed to beat out of your chest, and you needed to steady your breathing.

He stopped and looked for only a minuscule second, as if he didn’t dare to stare any longer, and picked up the pace, pushing the last of your sweater above your raised arms.

“Pants, too,” you whispered softly.

With shaky hands, Armin obediently worked them off, past the fabric of your panties, all the way down your legs.

He’d seen you in a bikini before, but it was different this time. You were laid out all nicely in front of him, clad in a bra and thin panties. On your bed, for him.

The newfound cold nipped everywhere at your skin, goosebumps prodding up your arms and legs.

“Take my bra off for me.” You said shakily, turning to your side to give him access. “You know how?”

He laughed out what seemed to be a mix of a chuckle and a scoff. “I’m sure it isn’t hard.” His knuckles brushed the skin of your back as he took hold of the straps and unclasped your bra. You could feel his hands shaking against your back. “Easy.”

As he slid it off of you, that heavy feeling in your heart resurfaced, and you began to feel self-conscious.

But it was just Armin, you reminded yourself.

Your upper body was now completely bare to him. The cool of the air swept over your already-hardening nipples.

Armin only stared at you. Didn’t say a word. Just outright ogled you with raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes as his hands twitched where they were resting near his thighs.

You grabbed both of his hands, placing his palms directly on your chest. “C’mon. Touch me.”

Gulping hard, he leaned into you, broad, unpracticed hands cupping your tits, squeezing just once. Then his hands started moving, experimentally pushing and squeezing over the plush of your tits, palms grazing over the peaks of your pebbled nipples.

You clamped your eyes shut, letting yourself go for the moment. It felt so pleasant, just steady friction against your sensitive breasts.

Armin’s hands were soft—that much you already knew—just as everything else was about him. But while his hands were soft and gentle, his gaze was hard. He was so fixed and focused on you, blue eyes practically dripping with unbridled lust.

He cupped your tits again, a soft nudge, then his hands slid down the curve of your waist. You could feel the trail of warmth that his fingers left on your skin. It clung to you even as his hands moved away to rest on your abdomen. His thumbs pressed into your skin so briefly that his touch might’ve been a spasm of a finger as the bottoms of his palms grazed against the hem of your panties.

The warmth followed down the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and down to your knees. You shifted your legs closer to your body, and his hands quickly cupped the underside of your thighs, squeezing once.

You knew this was his first time, so you let him explore your body as your hand came to his cheek to pull him down for another kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips, and you happily welcomed it.

His hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your hips, your waist, your shoulders, your neck, your arms. You could tell he was losing rhythm between keeping up with the kiss and touching you, but you couldn’t care less.

He pulled away first, leaving a string of saliva hanging between your lips.

“Armin, play with my….” The embarrassment hit you again. You didn’t even want to finish your sentence, but luckily, he seemed to understand.

“Oh.” His fingers found your tits again, thumbs swiping over your nipples before he lightly pinched them, tugging them upwards. “Like this?”

You gasped and squirmed. “Yeah. Like that. Just very lightly. Try rolling them between your fingers.”

His thumb and index finger met with your nipples, and he did what you told him, twisting and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

That elicited a little whine from you. “Feels nice.”

Armin continued his ministrations on you as he alternated between tweaking your nipples and groping your tits whole. It was sensual and quiet, save for the sound of your soft moans.

He suddenly sighed, eyes clouded. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered softly and fondly.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you smiled at him and let your cheeks heat up from his compliment. It caught you off guard. Because somehow, in a suggestive moment like this, he managed to make it sweet. Judging from the tone of his voice, you knew it was genuine.

Because he was a genuine guy.

You cupped the back of his head and pushed him toward your chest. “Put your mouth here.”

He doubled back, eyes wide, but didn’t waste another second to envelop his lips onto your chest. He followed your orders so easily—like a dog to its owner—that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the charm of it.

For a second, you wondered if he needed guidance, but when his tongue laved over your breast, you only held his head tighter as your back arched off the bed in pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut, feathery, blonde lashes resting against his cheekbones. He kissed your nipple just as he kissed you, licking and sucking meticulously and thoroughly.

One of the things that you liked about Armin was that he was such an adaptable learner. Took things he learned and applied them somewhere else. Not that any of this required any big skill, but he just did it so well and so quickly.

You grabbed his hand and brought it to your other nipple, and he quickly understood, playing with you like he did before.

Suddenly, his teeth took hold of your nipple—just a light graze, and you gasped again. You felt the ache between your thighs throb, shamelessly getting wetter. Where did he learn to do that?

“Okay, that’s—that’s good.” You tapped his cheek. “Over here now.”

His mouth unlatched with a pop and he switched to the other breast, repeating the same routine. You felt the remnants of his saliva on your skin mix with the cool air, tingling.

You were sure your panties were drenched now. Sure that the arousal made the fabric stick to you.

Armin pulled away, licking the spit from his lips, and looked right into your eyes. “Was that okay?” he asked innocently.

“Mhm,” you hummed, but you were convinced it came out more as a whine. You clutched a handful of the fabric of his tee. “Off.”

He sat up straighter, surprised but willing. “Off? Okay, okay.” Armin reached behind him to grab the collar of his T-shirt, and in one swift yank, it came off. He threw his shirt on the floor like the rest of your clothes, and you were left to ogle at his body.

Your eyes raked over the smooth planes of his chest, his slim waist, and the hard, toned stomach where your hands had previously felt.

Even at pools and beaches, he opted for T-shirts with his swim trunks. And the last time you’d seen him shirtless, he wasn’t this jacked.

“I never get to see you like this. You’re so—you’re so built.” The fluster was so evident in your voice as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

He shyly laughed, pink on his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You’re so pretty, Armin.” Before the embarrassment and weight of your compliment caught up to you, you quickly grabbed the hem of his jeans. “Take—take this off, too.”

You eyed the bulge beneath his pants, hard and begging to be freed.

You gulped. Now you two were really getting into it—seeing and doing something so intimate. You had no problem undressing yourself, but when it came to him…

He nodded as his hands fumbled with the button and zipper, thumbs slotted in between his waistband as he shakily pulled them down. You helped him get them off, anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins.

Once his jeans were off, he seemed even bigger now. You could see the clear outline of his dick straining against his boxers, and it was messing with your head. This was your best friend, for crying out loud. Both of your most intimate places were each just a layer away, just inches away.

“Fuck, I’m so—” His eyes scanned over you, from the eager expression on your face, to your bare tits, and to your legs that were spread to accommodate him. “You don’t know how hard I am right now.”

You gulped again. “Yeah?” you teased, palming him through his boxers.

He sharply inhaled and cursed low under his breath, but before you could go any further, he grabbed your wrist. There was a look of worry on his face—maybe it was desperation, you thought—and you wondered if you did something wrong.

“W—wait. I want to know how to make you feel good.”

Your face morphed into one of surprise. Armin wanted to please you first.

You felt the arousal creeping up on you. Felt it soaking your panties again.

You breathed out slowly, and for a second, the words died on your tongue. He was going to see you fully naked. Only a flimsy piece of fabric away from erasing the line between your friendship and this…whatever this was.

“Yeah, that’s good. Wanting to please your partner first, that is.” You regained your footing. “Help me take them off?” You eyed him innocently and pulled his hands towards your body until his knuckles touched your panties.

He stared for a moment—definitely at the wet, darkened patch over your crotch. Armin finally took hold of the hem of your panties, fingers hot against the skin of your pelvis. Unblinking, he pulled them down gently, agonizingly slow. You could feel your slick sticking to your panties and the fabric grazing your almost quivering thighs. In an instant, cool air rushed to you.

His eyes never left you as he pulled your panties past your knees and ankles, so fixated and eager that he made you nervous. The coil in your stomach returned, tense, like it was moments away from bursting.

You felt like a virgin all over again. You were embarrassed—even though you knew you shouldn’t be because it was just Armin—and on the brink of clamping your legs together, but you couldn’t because his body was right in between you, even closer than you’d noticed before.

“God, you’re so…” Armin gulped. He was quiet, muttering to himself, struggling to find his words, and nervously pushing his hair back. It fell back messily onto his forehead. “What do I…what do I do now?”

Clutching his hand between both of your palms, you shaped his hand into a “thumbs up” sign and brought it to your slit, spreading yourself with one hand. “This is the clit. If you…if you didn’t already know.”

His thumb grazed over your clit, and a twinge of pleasure shot up your lower body.

“I know.”

Armin thumbed your clit some more, swiping circles and pressing down lightly. You could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

“Is this good?” he asked.

“Mhm. A little faster—oh! Yeah, that’s good.” Your hips bucked as he sped up. “You—you could also use your middle and ring finger.”

You demonstrated with your hand, and he quickly followed, pressing his fingers onto you again.

This time, he started off slow and worked his way to match the pace from before.

“A little lower.” And suddenly you were arching off the bed. “Oh! Wait—”

“Am I doing it right?” he interjected, voice shaky. He was watching for your reaction, blue eyes boring into your face.

You nodded as the pleasure spread through your lower body. He wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t bad in the slightest. He made you feel good, nonetheless. The pads of his fingers were warm and smooth, rubbing all the right ways against your clit.

“You wanna move down now?” you asked.

Wordlessly, his eyes flicked down to your entrance, and the urge to clamp your legs shut returned to you again. You were dripping—you had to be, slick with your wetness pooling around your center. He lingered for a second before his attention diverted back onto your face.

“Show me how.” He said, adamant.

“Just know that…” Your fingers ghosted over his knuckles. “You don’t have to necessarily make me cum. This is just to stretch me out. To prep for the real thing.”

He regarded you with a tiny frown and peered at you hungrily through his long lashes. “What if I want to?”

Your heart skipped a beat and your stomach simmered with warmth.

“Well, you can.” You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat, unsure of what to say. Taking his hand in yours, you isolated his middle and ring fingers and held them close to your entrance. As you did so, something tingled and churned inside your stomach. Nervousness, you thought, apprehension, maybe. Not in a bad way, but in the way that every next step with him left you remembering just how private and raw this was.

“Just like that,” you whispered.

With a gulp, his fingers slid into your soaked cunt. You were so wet and tight, and you knew he could feel it. Feel it envelop his finger, warm and so, so slick. You instinctively clamped down on him as he pushed further.

“Oh, God…Y-Y/N,” he all but stuttered out. “Is—is this what it…”

The desperation showed clearly on his face: lips parted, brows knitted, and eyes drooping with lust.

You grabbed his wrist. “K—Keep going.”

His fingers reached their hilt inside of you, and you had to resist squeezing down on him. He felt like no other guy you’d been with. Because he really wasn’t any other guy.

He pulled them out swiftly, fingers and knuckles now tainted with the remnants of you. “What—what else?” he choked out.

The absence of his fingers left you wanting more. With your grip still on his wrist, you tugged his hand closer to your center. “Curl your fingers like this. When you’re inside.” You choked, too, and cleared your throat. “Just keep moving.”

“Like this?” He entered you again, gently, and pressed against a spot inside you that drove your hips to lurch off the bed.

You nodded weakly, whining. “More.” Your hand on his wrist urged him out, pulling backward. Confused, he slightly resisted. But when you pushed him back in, he seemed to understand the hint.

Armin pressed into you, thrusting his fingers in and curling them right at that sweet spot that had you gasping out. He slid in and out so easily, guided by the slickness of your insides, and worked slowly, almost teasingly, but you squeezed his arm, encouraging him.

“Right there,” you gasped out. “You’re doing so good.”

He groaned in response, a borderline moan. “H—Here?” And curled right into your G-spot.

You let out an abrupt gasp, akin to a stuttered breath, hips bucking upwards as pleasure seeped into your insides. His pace was reckless, but the calculated way the pads of his fingers pushed and grazed against your G-spot had your stomach twisting and your heart racing.

Beside you, you noticed his other hand fisting the bedsheets. Reaching out, you put a hand on top of his. “You okay?” you asked breathily.

Armin glanced up at you, eyes blown out, pupils dilated in such a starved, animalistic way that looked so out of character. He surprised you by lacing his fingers between yours.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

It caught you off guard, but you didn’t get to register your shock before you were crying loud with a particularly hard thrust. “Please. Please.” You didn’t know why he was even asking.

Armin’s lips crashed onto yours, capturing you in the most heated kiss of the night. Immediately, he dominated the kiss, all spit and tongue, lips hot and molding together with a firm press. His fingers kept fucking into you relentlessly, filling the room with lewd, wet sounds.

His other hand held yours still, squeezing once before letting go and landing on your waist.

“Just wanna feel you,” he mumbled.

Nodding, you strung your hands through his hair as he caressed your waist and tits. His palms grazed over your nipples, making you shudder and bite back a moan.

The coil inside your stomach winded tight and kept winding tighter and tighter when his fingers hit that spot again. The pleasure swirled through you, wave after wave, your hips lurching off the bed and your hands gripping his hair even tighter.

You moaned into his mouth. “So close.”

He groaned, drawn-out, lips wet with saliva, swallowing the noises that came out of your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised.

Armin whimpered at that—whimpered—and picked up the pace, faster, harder. It was sloppy, but it wasn’t imprecise. He flicked up into you so perfectly until you were stretched out and dripping, and until it finally snapped.

The coil snapped.

“Armin, I’m—I’m cumming! Don’t stop!”

“Hol—Holy shit, Y/N—”

The coil snapped, and sweet euphoria coursed through you, rushing through you like open floodgates. You gushed onto him in the same way, cunt fluttering against the thickness of his fingers. The feeling hit you like a truck and filled you whole.

“Can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbled under his breath in a desperate whine.

You pulled him into a desperate kiss—or was it that he pushed the kiss onto you?—and he dipped down to embrace you. The twitching weight of his clothed cock brushed against your thigh. It wasn’t intentional—at least you didn’t think, but it only reminded you of what was to come next.

As he slowed down, you felt your cum leaking down his knuckles and onto the bedsheets.

“Was that…good?” Armin timidly asked between heavy breaths. Above you, he panted like a dog, even more than you, pretty pink lips parted as if he was the one being fucked. So cute.

You stayed quiet for a moment, relishing in your subsiding orgasm, fatigued and cozy.

“Mhm. That was amazing. You did amazing for your first time.”

He visibly relaxed, slumped back onto his heels, and sighed. “Really? Th—Thank you.”

Even from above you, he looked submissive, face filled with a desperate need. You giggled at his shyness. The irony of it. “Yes, Armin, you…you just made me cum. That’s…”

Uncertainty weighed down on your tongue. Impressive? Was it really impressive, or should it have been expected from him? A part of you knew that he didn’t need any effort. Not because he was somehow a natural or that he was a fast learner, but that it was him, and that gives your body enough stimulation to push itself off the edge.

Hazy and blinded by your orgasm and the strong presence between your legs, you stopped yourself from dwelling on it any further.

“Y/N, what do I do with this…?” He lifted his hand, still slicked with your fluids. His middle and ring fingers parted further, and your shiny, milky cum stretched between his fingers. The sight almost made you gape, such a contrast to the curiosity and genuine concern brimming in his eyes.

“Taste it.”

He sent you a look so incredulous and so quick, those blue eyes widened to the depths as if your suggestion meant total absurdity. “Taste it?”

“Taste it. It’s hot when men do that. Or, you could also make the girl taste it,” you pushed, rising from your spot. You grabbed his wrist, leading it closer to his mouth.

He hesitated and tensed, but when his eyes met yours, you only leaned in, urging him with a look in your eyes. He complied quietly and stuck out his tongue.

The sight was lewd. His face reddened impossibly more, up to the tips of his ears, as his mouth engulfed his two fingers wholly. He crinkled his nose so subtly that you couldn’t tell what ran through his mind. He tasted your fluids on his tongue, sucked it for a second, then swallowed.

Armin’s fingers slid out with a little pop, and you didn’t waste another moment to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself when you pressed your tongue against his. He moaned at the sudden intrusion but melted into you easily. You could already feel his improvement as he reciprocated your energy and licked your mouth so nicely that the naturalness of it baffled you.

A passing thought in your head told you that this might’ve been too much for his first time, but when he dragged his clothed dick against your clit, you knew he enjoyed this as much as you did. You both shivered a little from the contact, prompting him to pull away.

“So…” he started, voice tiny and breathless. “What’s next?” But the way his eyes darted to your bare, leaking pussy and then to the bulge in his boxers suggested he knew exactly what came next.

You looked, too. Looked at the tight fit of his boxers on his bulging cock. Something about it—the unexpected size of him—made you giddy. Swelled your stomach with an indescribable weirdness.

“Take your boxers off.” Though you asked him, you couldn’t stop yourself from sneaking your hands to his hips and taking hold of the waistband. “Can I?”

He nodded hurriedly and gulped, tension and desperation etched on his face.

You pulled his boxers down, and with a little lift from his hips, you got them down to his strong thighs. Immediately, his cock sprung up against his abdomen, leaking precum that beaded down his red, aching tip. You licked your lips and gulped involuntarily at the sight because he was just so…

“Big…” you whispered softly.

“What?” He sounded out of it, like his question hadn’t carried any weight, rubbing a palm over his eyelids and pushing it into his hair. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes. An unspoken awkwardness filled the air as Armin removed his boxers completely. “Is—Is something wrong?”

He sat in front of you, naked in his entirety. Broad, smooth chest, taut, defined abs, muscly arms, thick thighs, and the softest, sweetest face that did not match the rock-hard, needy cock between his legs.

“Armin, I…I didn’t know you were so…big.”

He sputtered out, “W—What? I’m—I’m really not.”

He looked so nervous, so unsure. So sweet and so submissive. Instead of answering him, you wrapped both hands around his dick, lightly squeezed, and swiped a thumb over the slit where his precum spilled. You spread it down his shaft, wetting him with his own fluids.

“Agh…fuck…” he groaned, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. When you started jerking your hands up and down the length of his dick, his head moved forward and his hands came to cup your face. His hips bucked up with every jerk. You sensed his stare, but you were too occupied playing with his pretty dick.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented quietly. He gulped so hard you heard the small breath that followed after. “I wish you could see how you look right now.”

“Yeah?” you teased, looking up at him between your long lashes. His eyes, lidded and drooping with lust, scanned your body, from your face to where your legs parted and revealed your slit.

“I don’t think you understand how pretty you are to me.” He inhaled sharply and brought a hand to squeeze the area where his shaft met his head, right over where your hand rested. “I could just cum looking at you.”

You didn’t expect that from him. He was just so obscenely honest, wasn’t he?

“Y/N.” He suddenly stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “I think—I think that’s good…don’t wanna take the spotlight. I’m here to please you.”

Your chest warmed at his words, and you fought down the urge to continue pleasing him to release your hands.

“O—Okay,” you stuttered out, gulping and shivering all in one breath. Your body moved on its own and reached for your nightstand. Deep in the last drawer, stashed behind all of your cluttered knick-knacks, sat an unopened box of condoms. Three, actually.

Shakily, under his watchful gaze, you tore apart a box and unveiled a singular, foiled package.

"Oh, you have a lot." He stared in mild disbelief, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkling. If you knew any better, you'd think he was smirking under there.

“It's not what it looks like! Sasha gifted it to me as a gag gift. I haven't done anything in a while,” you quickly defended, trailing off quietly at the end.

He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the package between your fingers. The air held still, deathly silent beside the sounds of the crinkling wrapper. He had a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, very lightly squeezing.

“You know how to put on a condom?” you finally spoke up.

“I think so.” He nodded.

“Want to do it?”

He hesitated, and you caught the exact moment an idea clicked in his head. “No. Want you to do it.”

Something about that riled you up. Something about him watching you. Something about your dainty hands near his aching, needy cock, too impure for the likes of him.

He whimpered when you started sliding the condom down the length of his cock. The sweet sound of it rang through your ears. Made your heart lurch and your stomach heavy. When you finished, your head lifted to look him in the eyes. His cheeks were flushed so pink you wanted to kiss the color off of them.

“Ready?” You ignored the way your voice shook, borderline a stutter, and circled your arms around his neck.

“Yes. Please,” he whined. He was speaking with his eyes—begging with his eyes.

In one fell swoop, you both clambered down onto the sheets. And in this moment, when your eyes met his in a sweet remembrance, it felt like time had stopped, and all the anticipation you’d ever felt plummeted back into the pit of your stomach and built back up all over again.

He loomed above you, flushed, domineering, and most importantly, nervous.

You only wanted one thing.

"Please. Need you inside me."

He inhaled a deep, unsteady breath, holding back a whine.

Then, you felt the tip of his dick brush against the slicked mess of your opening, and you clenched around the empty, ghostly graze. The hands on your thighs pressed into you with a little more pressure at the contact. He was shaking. His whole body was shaking.

“P—Put it in slowly, ‘kay? Don’t want to hurt the other person.”

Armin listened, and in that final moment of anticipation, he slid in slowly, just the tip. You both gasped at the feeling. You were so, so wet and your heart beat so, so fast and his skin against your skin felt so, so right and so, so warm. The stretch had yet to creep up on you but you were already squirming under his touch.

He pushed into you, the feeling of him inside warm and fulfilling. He let out a strained “shitttt” as his hands moved to dig into your waist even harder. Eyes squeezed shut, he seemed to lose himself in the pleasure. You could tell by his labored breaths and flushed cheeks that he already was so, so sensitive.

With a final push, he bottomed out, touching a spot deep in you, far deeper than your fingers or his fingers or any other man that had come before him. And God, were you wet. Instinctively, your pussy clenched around him.

He hissed, pinning you down with his pelvis. “Don’t. Don’t do anything. Please, or I’m going to cum.”

And then it hit you—that you’d finally done it. That you’d just taken Armin’s virginity.

You had.

Shit, you clamped down on him again, and this time, he groaned and abruptly pulled out.

“Y/N,” he warned, voice drawn with honey. “I am not going to last,” he said, exasperated.

“It’s okay. It’s your first time.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “Besides, you’re with me. You don’t have to worry about it.”

He leaned into your touch, nuzzling into your hands, then gave you a small frown.

“Then how am I supposed to make you feel good?”

“Trust me. You’ll always make me feel good.”

With a cute—yet sinful—smile and a hard swallow, he lined himself up again, hands on your thighs, and gave an experimental thrust.

You whined at the intrusion, reminded again of how he fit so perfectly. How the hardness of his cock dragged so pleasantly against the slickness of your pussy.

And he did it again and again. Thrusted into you, albeit slowly, again and again. You’d let him intoxicate you again and again until all your body knew was the shape of his cock.

He moved deliberately, relishing every inch sheathed inside of you. He’d pull out with all the time in the world, dick coated in your wetness and eyes locked on where your bodies intertwined, and thrust back in with the most fervor and impatience.

The slowness of it, the intimacy of it—you couldn’t help but buck your hips in hopes of more.

With soft moans, his thrusts sped up, and without a warning, you felt him fully, the whole weight of him spilling inside of you. His hands slid up to your waist as his head tipped forward. You arched your back into him in a silent plea, finding yourself yearning for his pretty lips, the knot inside of your stomach swelling with pleasure. As if he could read your mind, he drowned your lips in a feverish, hot, kiss, burning your mouth with his tongue.

Every thrust met with the slap of skin-on-skin and the squelch of your fluids. It echoed through your bedroom walls alongside your muffled, whiny moans. You let yourself sink into the pleasure, letting him know that you felt good—that he made you feel good.

Because truly, he did nothing wrong; it all felt so right with him.

As he broke away from the kiss, leaving yet another string of saliva between you two, you took the chance to grab his hand.

“Play with my body. Like here.” You placed his palm onto your breast, squeezing it with his hand underneath yours. “Or here.” You sensually dragged his hand down to your slicked-up, aching clit.

Wordlessly, he complied, gulping down a constricted moan that bobbed his Adam’s apple. Armin rubbed your clit like you’d taught him, watching your hips wriggle under his touch.

As a reward, you tightened around him. Oh, did you like seeing him lose composure. You liked picking him apart. You liked plucking the petals off of this innocent, little flower. And judging from his dazed, barely present expression and the hands gripping hard onto your hips, you knew he liked it too.

He whined again, and the sound rang in the air in a soft whisper. So vocal, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be afraid to make noise. I wanna know how good you feel,” you asserted through lidded eyes.

Armin hummed a noise of confirmation, but it came out more of a moan as he juggled responding to you and recklessly pounding into you. You could tell he felt good—too good—as did you.

The ebb and flow of pleasure swam inside you with each fill of his cock into your pussy, waiting to burst. You felt so close yet far away, but you let him experiment, toying with you, trying every angle in both erratic and deliberate ways.

“Fuck!” you both cursed simultaneously with a perfect thrust into that spot inside of you. Your back arched off the bed unwillingly, arms clasping around his back and nails digging into his skin.

Armin moaned oh-so-sweetly. “I’m so close!” he panted out, a borderline whine.

“Cum for me. Please, Armin. Do it.”

And his hips never stopped. Kept fucking hastily and sloppily into you in chase of his climax and in chase of the sweet yelps pouring out of your mouth. You spurred him on, almost able to taste his final moment.

But the moment never came. You could hear the relentless, wet smack of your colliding bodies and the mix of low groans and hearty moans tumbling from his lips. His hips still never stopped, still chasing, still tasting.

You couldn’t believe he lasted this long. He really did want to hold out for you, to make you feel good.

Mewling again, you tightened your arms around his neck, the warmth scalding but the softness soothing under your fingertips. “Touch me. Please.”

His fingers pinched your perk nipple before you could even finish your sentence. He rolled the bud around with his thumb and forefinger until he heard you moan, finally laying a palm down to squeeze your entire tit—and squeezed hard. You relished in the way his hand trailed down, slowly, to where he could swipe his fingers over your throbbing clit.

Right now, all you knew was the shape of his cock. Heat radiated from his body and wrapped around you in a warm embrace. His breath tickled your earlobe, face hovering just above the crook of your neck.

Oh, please, it felt so good, so intimate. Everything about this. Everything about him.

"I love you. I love you so much,” he rasped through squeezed-shut eyes.

You looked at him wide-eyed, confused, and spellbound within the haze of lust, so out of that you believed your ears played a trick on you. It slipped out of his lips so wantonly you believed he uttered the words accidentally.

Your room suddenly felt too stuffy and a hundred more degrees hotter. A lone, oddly watchful bead of sweat rolled down your brow.

It took him only a second of your silence before he started nervously blabbering in your ear. "Um, wait, sorry. Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I got lost in the moment. I’m sorry.”

He slowly inched away from you, but you paid no mind and pulled him back onto your lips.

You didn’t care that, caught so deep in emotion and pleasure, he said “I love you” during sex—during his first time, no less. His first time with you. And now, after it happened, you didn’t care to warn him of that taboo. You wanted to selfishly indulge in the possibility that he’d always say it to you, regardless of who he shared his first time with.

In your pleasurable bliss, you let yourself give in. “I love you too, Armin.”

He pulled away abruptly, your lips pulling apart with a wet click, disrupting the strange magnetism between the two of you.

"I'm sorry,” he whispered, then kissed you full force.

His love seeped into every pore of your body when he started thrusting into you again, full and hard and deep and starved. He didn’t spare you a chance to breathe with the way his mouth and cock engulfed you whole.

A mixture of whines, moans, and smacks filled your bedroom once more. The pounding rhythm between your legs grew sloppier, though still unyielding and energetic. You wanted to cry out, louder than ever and let your neighbors know because everything felt so unexpectedly good. Armin. Your best friend.

You ran your hands through his already-messed-up, blonde hair. You loved this look on him, a side of him that people never saw. Disheveled, falling apart, and...crazy.

He leaned back on his knees, still moving his hips, lust-filled eyes a dark, stormy blue that raked over your body.

And he did something you didn't expect of him—like he let it slip, like he couldn't keep his composure anymore.

He smirked down at you.

But you were convinced it was a mere twitch in your delirium, disappearing when you blinked.

His tip brushed your G-spot again, and you finally did cry out. “Right there! D—Don’t stop!”

Armin groaned in response, choking on his words, and suddenly laved a tongue over the pulse point in your neck. “You feel—you feel so good! I can’t hold…!”

That coil in your stomach thrashed with the need to burst and taunted you with the promise of an orgasm. You felt tight all over, so constricted with pleasure and emotion and heat.

“Y/N, you’re driving me crazy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m—”

“M—Me, too! I’m close. Cum for me, please.”

With one last thrust, he came, moaning loud, spilling hot cum into the condom. You felt him twitch inside you as a gradual warmth filled your insides.

Fuck, that did it for you. You came right behind him, wrapping your legs around him tight like a vice, white-hot pleasure consuming every vein in your body. In that moment, you kissed him and clamped your eyes shut, focusing hard, your cunt squeezing down on him to wring out the last of his orgasm, fluttering and pulsing so uncontrollably hard. It was like your pussy never wanted to let him go, wanted to relish the last of that feeling of home when his cock rooted deep into your pussy.

All the while, he spewed praises at you, some dirty, some sweet.

You couldn’t tell how long the two of you took to come down, to stop kissing, for your cunt to stop gushing, and for him to pull out—because it seemed like that moment lasted forever. Your cum coated your pelvis, his pelvis, your thighs, his thighs, and the already-soaked bedsheets.

With bated breaths and shaky hands, he pulled off the condom, tied the latex up, wrapped it in a tissue from your bedside, and threw it onto the floor where it landed among your sparsely scattered clothes.

Armin slumped down on you, wrapping strong arms around your waist in a suffocating, hot embrace. You gladly welcomed his weight.

It smelled of sex, sweat, and the dwindling remnants of his cologne.

You laid there, catching your breath.

You did it. He did it. You finished taking his virginity, and he successfully made you cum during the process.

And everything left you wondering…

Why was that…good? Sex with a virgin. Sex with your best friend. Did you even teach him enough? Because that was definitely a learning experience for you. The post-orgasm clarity hit you now like a slipper to the face, and you couldn’t wrap your head around what just happened.

Sleepily, you broke the silence, “Good job, Armin. You did amazing. You’re attentive, a fast learner, and just already so good to me. You made me cum twice. For a virgin.” A hearty laugh parted from your throat as you strung your fingers through his mussed hair. “I guess you aren’t one anymore.”

Armin remained silent. Was he already asleep?

In the quiet darkness, your heart started beating fast, even after the sex. Laying here felt domestic, like somebody made this bed for the two of you to snuggle in tonight, like a real couple.

Armin, face wedged between your sheets and your shoulder, hugged you impossibly tighter when he shifted to look at you.

“Thank you. I love you, Y/N.”

He breathed those three words with so much adoration in his eyes, gazing at you longingly beneath his thick, long lashes. The blue of his eyes shone brightly even in the dim lighting and through the hair obscuring his face.

“I really do love you,” he continued. “Not because of the sex. But because you’re a good friend. Thank you for letting me be vulnerable.”

Oh my gosh. You really didn’t deserve him. You’d exchanged your fair share of sentimental, platonic “I love you’s” to each other, but this one wrenched your heart like no other. Especially after sex.

He left you at a loss for words. But sleep tugged at your eyelids and your mind screamed at you to clean up and your post-nut clarity still remained unresolved; you couldn’t think of a reply even if you wanted to.

Even overwhelmed, your heart called out to him and you mustered up something.

“I’m grateful to have you as a best friend. I love you,” you gritted out.

Wrong. So, so wrong. Right now, this conversation was getting too emotional for a strictly physical agreement. But you didn’t lie nevertheless, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

Feeling grimy, you wriggle under his hold. “We should clean up. It’s good for women to pee after sex.”

As the final rip of the bandaid, he pecked you on your jaw. “I can’t.”

Your face twisted in confusion, still clouded by tiredness and the daze of lingering thoughts. “You can’t?”

“I can’t help it,” he suddenly mumbled.

“Armin, what are you—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when you felt something poking your thigh, stiff and hard.

Armin groaned deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against the shell of your ear as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

The hands that were once wrapped around your body slowly released their hold and grabbed onto your hips, hard and impatient. Armin started rutting into your thighs, dragging you along with him.

Your heart stuttered for a moment, in disbelief that he could keep going and that you would have to keep going, but your pussy clenched around nothing at the promise of something more.

“Can’t help it. I’m—I’m hard again.”

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eddiethebrave · 3 months ago

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secret admirer part eighteen

767 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

Steve isn’t sure what to do. He knows what he wants to do. He wants to stuff Eddie’s locker full with every thought he’s had in the past week and a half without an outlet. But would he be receptive to that?

By practice the next morning he’s decided that he’ll give it a try and then see if Eddie’s still wearing the ring.

He figures the boy isn’t ready to talk about it face-to-face yet, given he brought out the ring instead of simply talking to him. Then he had the gall to ask Steve if he was okay.

No. He’s really not.

Eddie you talk with your hands a lot it’s hypnotizing it was one of the first things i noticed about you at the beginning of the year i never knew what you were saying from so far away but i felt like i was in on the conversation just from that and i never feel like that, so thank you p.s. i’ve missed talking to you well, not talking, but you know p.s.s. i could definitely say more but i don’t wanna bombard you so we’ll save all that for later thank you for giving me another chance

Steve is nervous walking into the lunch room. For the first time since he switched, he takes his usual seat on the side of the table where Eddie is in his line of sight.

Steve was worried that he would have changed his mind and taken the ring off, but there it is on his right hand.

Steve actually engages in conversation with Tommy and Carol for the rest of lunch so Eddie doesn’t see him staring, even if he feels a little better about it now that Eddie knows who he is and is still wearing the ring.

Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches sight of Eddie talking animatedly to his friends, arms waving this way and that, perhaps a bit more than usual and Steve has to tamp down a smile.

They don’t talk in class until the bell rings and Steve realizes Eddie didn’t say where they were meeting after class today.

He must have forgotten all about it because he goes to stand up and Steve has to catch him by the wrist before he makes his escape. Eddie jerks back out of instinct and shoots him a questioning look. Steve busies himself with packing his bag to avoid eye contact. “Wanna meet at Benny’s? On me?” he asks tentatively.

Eddie bats his lashes. “Steve Harrington wants to buy little ol’ me a milkshake from Benny’s Burgers? Oh my,” he says breathily, fanning himself.

Despite him raising the pitch of his voice several octaves to sound more feminine, Steve’s face still burns. Oh god.

Steve rolls his eyes and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie nods, pulling a piece of his hair over his face and as cute as the whole blushing maiden act is, Steve has to resist reaching out to tuck the hair back in place so he can see his smile.

He bites his lip and backs away. “See you there, Munson.”

“Yup, see you there, Harrington.”

— — — —

They don’t talk much once they get going on their projects. Eddie, of course, attempts multiple times to catch sight of Steve’s portrait.

He even goes as far as to sneak up on him on his way back from the bathroom, not thinking Steve would be anticipating the act. Steve had pulled a blank piece of paper out of his bag and placed it over his actual project. On the paper, he drew a stick figure with Eddie’s haircut and huge eyes. Remembering how much Eddie had seemed to like Steve’s more unsettling attempts at art, Steve made the eyes as realistic as he could manage while the rest of the thing looked like a child had drawn it in a hurry.

Steve didn’t even know Eddie had come out of the bathroom until he heard laughing and wheezing coming from behind him.

He didn’t turn around. He simply sipped his strawberry milkshake until Eddie fell into his seat once he’d calmed down. The boy pouted for all of two seconds before breaking out into a smile and commending Steve’s foresight.

Once they pack up and Steve pays the bill, they make their way outside and he pulls out the prank drawing.

“Here,” he says, holding it out to Eddie.

“For me?” The smile he gets in return is beaming.

Steve rides that high well into the next day.

nineteen

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

#NOTE NUMBER TEN I REPEAT NOTE NUMBER TEN #the way this was lowk a date #wrote this instead of sleeping #<3 #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie #steddie

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neo-shitty · 2 years ago

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phantom 🌚

#WHERE IS YUNN I SEE THE VISION NOW #why is this comeback very modern game of thrones-esque 🤨#the iron throne i see you wyd there hmmm #WINWIN AND TEN ON THE THRONE PHEWWW #nawt yangyang holding up the moon 😭#is the… line distribution kinda fair now or relatively fairer…#im seeing winwin more hmMmmMm maybe l**** being excluded might be their best decision #THEY LOOK GREAT AS A 6-PIECE #WINWIN CENTER LETS GO BESTIEEE #ten still gets a lot of the lines but i feel like all the boys were given their respective times to shine #i say fairer than normal #toff.txt

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gyuswhore · 1 year ago

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Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me.

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone.

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside.

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building.

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years.

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.”

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you.

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends.

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day.

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong.

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey.

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise.

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung.

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects.

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.”

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too.

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand.

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time.

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own.

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game.

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight.

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something.

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say.

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward.

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you.

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile.

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing.

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating.

“Wait!”

You turn around at his voice.

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours.

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled.

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.”

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek.

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off.

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before.

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both.

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do.

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye.

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.”

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore.

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time.

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered.

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay.

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower.

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left.

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship.

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?”

Slowly, but surely, he nods.

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.”

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home.

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again.

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade.

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet.

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes.

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own.

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back.

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you.

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him.

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other.

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative.

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon.

He let a couple tears slip.

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest.

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind.

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes.

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow.

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies.

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like.

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption.

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?”

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training.

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.”

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day.

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other.

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for.

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed.

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year.

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have.

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.”

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile.

“Oh, he’s here with me,”

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens.

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.”

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?”

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.”

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him.

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms.

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.”

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time.

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like.

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different.

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears.

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt.

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden.

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.”

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill.

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are.

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.”

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all.

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights.

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away.

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.”

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation.

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring.

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows.

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward.

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently.

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow.

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening.

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now.

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours.

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself.

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours.

“You okay?”

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely.

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance.

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance.

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you.

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind.

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself.

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest.

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak.

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass.

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina.

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other.

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture.

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another.

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other.

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain.

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fluff #seuncheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungchel angst #scoups #svt #svt smut #em.writes

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spirits-having-flown · 1 year ago

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“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc

“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox

“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston

“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer

“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow

friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️

#these tributes are so sweet #still cant believe that hes gone #rip matthew perry #friends #matthew perry #chandler bing #matt leblanc #joey tribbiani #courteney cox #monica geller #jennifer aniston #rachel green #david schwimmer #ross geller #lisa kudrow #phoebe buffay

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megalony · 3 months ago

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Vital Signs

Here is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it I had a lot of fun with this one. Please let me know your thoughts.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie asks Maddie to check in on (Y/n) when she isn't feeling well while he's at work. But when Maddie has to call an ambulance, Eddie races to the hospital to find out what's wrong with his wife.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dad,"

Eddie rolled his lips together and spun on his heels, shaking the scrambled eggs from the pan onto the plates he laid out earlier. One of the few things he could manage to cook without burning.

He dropped the pan into the sink and spun on his heels, hands faffing around with a tea towel while his eyes landed on his son. The ten year old was leaning against the kitchen counter, nose scrunched up and lips pressed into a thin line rather than his usual cheesy grin or tired smile.

"What's up bud? Why aren't you dressed yet?" His voice was soft and his head tilted to the side as he looked down at his boy but he could feel his smile slipping away.

Chris was still in his pyjamas even though Eddie had woken him up for school over ten minutes ago and told him to get ready. It was his routine to get dressed before breakfast and then Eddie would take him to school on his way to work. They would be running behind schedule at this rate if Chris wasn't even ready yet.

"Mum won't come out the bathroom," Chris tilted his head to the left, looking up at the ceiling for a moment while he pointed behind him towards the hallway.

It was his routine to brush his teeth and wash his face and he always got dressed in the bathroom, but he couldn't get in there. (Y/n) had beaten him to it and now she wasn't coming out the room. The shower wasn't on, he hadn't heard her run the bath or the taps in the sink, she didn't even have music playing like she normally did.

He watched his dad's upper lip curl and his brows furrowed into a confused frown.

"Okay uh, eat breakfast while I go see if she's okay."

When he reached Chris, he patted his shoulder and turned him in the direction of the table and placed a plate down in front of him. He kissed Chris's head to shush his distaste at changing his routine before he headed out into the hall to go to the bathroom.

"Baby, you okay in there?" Eddie rapped his knuckles against the door before gingerly opening it and peeking his head around.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. Maybe (Y/n) in the bath- because he couldn't hear the shower running- losing track of time, or find her getting changed or in the middle of getting ready.

Eddie wasn't prepared to find (Y/n) on the floor. Her legs were curled awkwardly beneath her on the bath mat, her arms loosely draped over the toilet and her head practically hanging inside the toilet. Her upper body was slumped over like she had fainted but when Eddie heard her groan, he knew she was conscious.

"Oh Christ, mi amor, talk to me." He crouched down beside her, arching his knees out so he was curved around her with her between his thighs.

He was careful when he pulled (Y/n) up so he could look at her but their eyes barely met before (Y/n) turned back down and hurled into the toilet. All she could throw up was the water she had tried to sip this morning, anything she ate last night had come back up with vengeance already.

(Y/n) felt pitiful when she cried and gasped for breath, wiping her eyes on her arm but it didn't make her feel any better and she could feel more tears replacing them anyway.

(Y/n) didn't like Eddie seeing her like this, especially not when she was now going to make him late for work. This wasn't the state she wanted to be in when Eddie walked in on her in the bathroom, she didn't want to be hunched over the toilet, throwing up and looking as weak as a leaf.

Her arms could barely be lifted up in front of her, every part of her body felt sluggish and her stomach was churning but it was her chest that was the worst. It felt like nails were being hammered into her lungs that were popping and tightening and deflating in her chest.

Each breath she took was croaky and gasping and rough as if she smoked fifty a day for the last twenty years.

"Sick," She croaked with a grimace and stayed crouching over the toilet just in case she had any more bile to throw up.

She could feel Eddie's lips pressing against her bare shoulder and his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms. His hums and shushes vibrated against her skin and made her shiver and when Eddie pulled her back and let her flop against his chest, she tried to smile and look up at him. They both knew her smile did nothing to calm him down.

"I gathered that, baby. I thought you said you felt better yesterday."

(Y/n) let out a little grumble and swayed her hand from side to side. She didn't want to worry Eddie yesterday when he was at work by saying she felt crappy and lethargic. And she had felt a bit better last night and she slept all night through, but now as the sun rose it seemed to drain (Y/n) of all her energy and wellness.

Eddie sighed before he leaned his arm over to flush the toilet. He wasn't impressed to find (Y/n) had thrown everything up and he could feel her skin burning up against his touch and layered in cold sweat. Eddie could see she was going to be dehydrated and if food wasn't staying down she wouldn't have any nutrients or energy left.

When he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, he clicked his tongue. She was getting a temperature and she looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

"Okay, I think we should get you back to bed."

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Eddie's shoulder and reached a heavy hand up to cup his cheek. When he stared down at her with that dark, infectious, possessive look, (Y/n) could have melted on the spot if she didn't feel so icky and uneasy.

She found the strength to loop her arms around Eddie's neck and he took the hint, grabbing her hips to pull her up to unsteady feet.

"Come on," He murmured against the top of her head when a whine burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck. She brought her hand up to brush his jaw while he kissed the top of her head and slowly guided her out of the bathroom.

They walked in awkward tandem together, Eddie's arms bound tight around her waist and his lips attached to the side of her neck as they headed into their room.

When (Y/n) flopped to sit down on the bed, Eddie stood between her legs and cupped her face, tilting her head up so she could look up at him. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and his wet lips smoothed against her burning temple. He didn't like how unwell she looked or the dazed look in her eyes, and Eddie didn't like the thought of leaving her home alone in this state.

His hands were soft as they moved down to her arms and gently nudged her back until she was laid down on the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing one hand up and down over her hip and her waist while his other hand fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey Maddie," His lips quirked into a lopsided smile when (Y/n) tried to lift her head from the pillow but she felt like she was made of stone.

Her body was sinking into the bed that felt softer than ever and her eyes were almost closing already.

She flopped her hand around until she latched her trembling fingers around Eddie's wrist and gave a small tug. She wanted some sort of comfort and touch. And the confusion written across her face told Eddie she had no idea why he was ringing her big sister.

"You're not at work right now, are you?"

"No… why, what's wrong?" The concern was evident in his sister in law's voice. It wasn't often that Eddie rang Maddie for anything other than to ask if she was coming to a party or coming round for lunch or when something had happened.

They conversed a lot in group circles and joked around when they met up at parties or for family meals, but they didn't call or text. Whereas Eddie and Buck were messaging almost every day. They had been close before Eddie fell for (Y/n)- something Buck had been against at first, having his little sister and his best friend falling for each other.

"I know you and (Y/n) were gonna meet up this afternoon, but she's not feeling well. Any chance you could come by later, make sure she's okay for me?"

Eddie knew what (Y/n) was like. He knew if he left for work and with Chris being at school, she wouldn't look after herself properly. She didn't look well enough to get up, let alone try and get to the kitchen to make something to eat or get a drink. And Eddie didn't like the thought of leaving in case (Y/n) fainted or tripped or collapsed and no one was here to help her.

"Sure. I'll come over after I drop Jee at school and I'll stay with her for a while." Maddie's tone softened and Eddie could almost see her smiling.

She would gladly spend the day with her sister and look after her. After all, (Y/n) had been round almost every day to help Maddie with Jee when she was first born, and again when Maddie came back. She helped her sister get back on track, Maddie would do anything to repay that love and kindness.

And looking after her younger siblings when they were ill was something Maddie had done since Buck and (Y/n) were tiny. She had always given them medicine and watched movies with them, snuggled up on the sofa. They were her first patients before she became a nurse all those years ago.

And if that meant spending the day watching movies with her and trying to get her to eat and drink, then that's what Maddie would do. How could she refuse?

"Alright baby," Eddie leaned over (Y/n) and pressed a few fluttering kisses against her temple. "Maddie's gonna come over and look after you for me, but if you need me just give me a ring, okay?"

When (Y/n) nodded, Eddie pressed his finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him and he captured her lips in a kiss. Knowing Maddie was coming over made Eddie feel better because if (Y/n) needed anything or she felt worse, she would have her big sister right here to look after her.

But Eddie hated leaving her or Chris when either of them weren't well. He wanted to be here with her. Hopefully his shift would fly by and when he came home, (Y/n) might feel a bit better.

***

Every part of (Y/n)'s body felt sluggish like she was a model made of clay, slowly setting in the afternoon sun. The more she tried to move about, the less willing her legs were to keep going to the point where she was dragging her legs behind her and finding it hard to keep her eyes open.

She had dragged herself out of bed an hour after Eddie took Chris to school and forced herself to try and move about the house. She didn't want to be in bed all day and she wasn't sure when Maddie was coming round to check on her.

Maddie had been true to her word and turned up after she dropped Jee off with the promise that she was staying with her sister all day until it was time to pick Chris up from school. She had graciously offered to pick Chris up when she went to get Jee and bring him back home because she could see her sister was in no fit state to leave the house.

(Y/n) ran her hand across her face, trying to rub away the droplets of sweat gathering on her skin. She held herself up, making sure she didn't lean on the walls as she walked in case she lost the little effort she had and slid down to the floor.

She took it slow, walking down the hall back towards the living room where Maddie was just taking the empty cups towards the kitchen.

Something soft and loving crossed Maddie's face when she looked over at her sister. A lopsided smile graced her lips and she paused in front of (Y/n), reaching out to rub her shoulder.

"Fancy another drink?"

"Anything with ice… I'm melting."

Maddie nodded and walked ahead into the kitchen and after a second thought, (Y/n) moved to follow after her. Maybe being in the kitchen where the window was open might make her feel better. She was likely due to take some more painkillers too. If she sank down on the sofa she feared she would never get back up again.

She dragged her feet behind her as she headed into the kitchen, but she wrapped her right arm around her waist when her stomach gave an awful twang. It felt like a coil inside her stomach had snapped.

She wasn't sure whether she needed to rush to the toilet or hunch over and be sick. Her stomach had been twisting in agony all day and she'd suffered cramps yesterday which put her off her food.

Once she shuffled to the kitchen island, (Y/n) slumped down on one of the kitchen stools and leaned forward. She folded her arms on the counter and leaned her chin on her arm, trying to find something to focus on and look at.

She tried to watch Maddie who was flowing about the kitchen with ease, grabbing glasses and making two glasses of juice with lots of ice. And then she moved around to try and find something that (Y/n) could try to peck at, little bits of fruit might be worth trying.

"Here you go- are you okay?" Maddie set a glass down in front of (Y/n) and moved her hand to rest on her sister's shoulder.

A concerned frown pulled at Maddie's lips as she glided her hand up and down (Y/n)'s back. She didn't like the way her sister was hunched over the counter and for a moment she panicked that (Y/n) might have passed out, but she could feel her twitching and writhing. She couldn't sit still but she didn't have the energy to get up and move about either.

"Hm, just- just my stomach. Thanks," It took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to sit up straight and she felt the room spin around her before she managed to get her eyes back into focus.

A forced smile that looked more like a grimace appeared on her lips as she picked up the glass of juice and relished in the condensation clinging to her palm and coating her fingers. Ice. Just what she needed to cool her system down and try to perk herself back up again.

(Y/n) took a sip of her drink, listening to the way the ice clinked together, but she quickly set the glass down when she felt her hands beginning to shake.

She moved one arm back to her stomach and wrapped her arm around her abdomen, trying to take deep, calming breaths to make the sudden horrid feeling go away. Whatever Maddie started to say went in one ear and out the other. (Y/n) couldn't hear her anymore. She couldn't hear anything.

The tv from the living room playing an old comedy film in the background, the radio in the kitchen Maddie had turned on a while ago and forgot to turn off, Maddie's voice. All of it became silence to (Y/n). None of it got through over the static building up in her ears.

When her eyes started to blur and she couldn't see her sister properly anymore, (Y/n) tried to say her name. She tried to call out and override the panic building up in her system but all that came out was a quiet, mumbling groan.

"Oh, oh you don't look well. Let's go lay you down on the sofa, hm?" Maddie tried to reach out and curled her arm around (Y/n)'s waist to help her off the stool.

Her eyes had gone out of focus, her skin was sheened with sweat and she looked like she had suddenly seen a ghost. Sitting here might not do her much good, laying down might make her feel better and let her gather some strength and energy back.

But the moment (Y/n) got to her feet, the crippling pain in her abdomen amplified and both arms bound around her waist. She felt her weight shifting from one side to the next and she couldn't manage to move one foot in front of the other. She couldn't stop herself from falling to the floor. She didn't feel anything when her body collided with the tiled floor and her legs curled awkwardly beneath her. The way her head bashed into the floor seemed to flick a switch in (Y/n)'s brain and it kickstarted her hearing and shocked her body back into action.

Her arms tightened around her waist, pressing deeply into her abdomen to try and ward off the pain that was sending her shaking in spasms on the floor.

She couldn't stop the whimper from leaving her lips as she rubbed her burning temple against the cold floor.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), oh God. Are you with me?" Maddie crashed down to her knees and reached her hands out to carefully hold (Y/n)'s neck and tilt her head back so she could see her.

Her little sister didn't look good.

Her eyes couldn't open properly and Maddie could see her pupils rolling towards the back of her head. Sweat flushed her exposed skin and the heat was coming off of her in waves. A light tremble had set across her system, shaking her arms against her stomach and causing her legs to jitter against the floor as she writhed and tried to move.

"Shh, stay still, let me look at you." She pressed the back of her hand against (Y/n)'s temple. She had a fever. When her fingertips pushed down over (Y/n)'s pulse, she could feel each thundering beat of her heart that was going way too fast to be considered normal range. "Can you tell me what hurts?"

She brushed her thumb across (Y/n)'s cheek and tried to smile at her while her other hand fumbled in her back pocket for her phone.

(Y/n) uncurled a trembling arm from her waist and flapped her hand out until she managed to grab Maddie's wrist. She coiled her arm close to her chest and tried to move their hands towards her stomach to show her sister where the pain was coming from.

"Okay, let's get you some help."

"911, what's your emergency?"

"This is dispatcher Maddie Buckley, my sister's collapsed. She has a fever and severe stomach pains and her pulse is very fast." Maddie tried to be gentle as she brushed (Y/n)'s hair away from her face and glided her hand up and down her arm to keep her calm and soothe her. She could feel the distress radiating off of her sister and the state she was in told Maddie that something was severely wrong.

"Paramedics are five minutes away and being redirected to you. What's her name?"

"(Y/n) Diaz." She did her best to smile to try and keep (Y/n) as calm as possible while she writhed and whimpered, clearly in mass agony. But when she tilted her head down, her lips pressed together tightly and her breath got caught in her lungs. "She's starting to bleed."

She could see a patch of blood smeared into the back of (Y/n)'s leggings and around her inner thighs. It wasn't much or drastic, but even a small drop of blood was a bad indicator and signified that this was more than some sort of stomach bug or a sickness fever. And Maddie wasn't stupid, this wasn't her sister having a bad period, this was a bad sign.

"E-Eddie… I w-want Eddie," (Y/n) kept her left arm bolted tight around her lower abdomen that felt like it was on fire. But her right hand clutched onto Maddie's wrist and held so tightly her sister had no choice but to lean down to be closer.

Maddie could feel tears welling up in her eyes when she looked at the panic written across her sister's face. She bit down on her lip and nodded.

"When we get you to hospital, I'll call him and Buck to let them know to be at the hospital. I promise, it's all gonna be okay." There was no way she could call Eddie yet, not until she knew what was wrong with (Y/n) and what was causing the pain. She had to get (Y/n) to a doctor first because then she could tell Eddie what was going on rather than getting him to the hospital in a state of blind panic. She had to have some answers first.

"Hurts."

"I know, I know honey but not for long, you'll be at the hospital soon. It'll be okay."

(Y/n) felt like nodding, but she couldn't. She couldn't move her arms, thrash her legs, push up from where she was laid on the floor. She couldn't do anything. All (Y/n) could do was let tears flush her face and allow the horrid pains in her abdomen to override her senses.

What was wrong with her?

She wanted Eddie.

***

Eddie raked his fingers through his hair for what must have been the twentieth time in the last hour. He could feel loose strands scraping beneath his nails and the painful, bolting sensation in his scalp from pulling out a few hairs by mistake.

He bolted down the corridor, eyes looking every which way but ahead in the unusually empty corridor. The receptionist had sent him straight from the emergency room down here and told him to follow the signs for the X-ray department and he would find the family member that brought his wife in.

Why he was going towards X-ray he couldn't fathom. (Y/n) had been sick and burning up, she hadn't had any symptoms indicating a broken bone. Unless she had had some kind of accident or slipped and fell. Eddie hoped not. He wasn't sure what he was hoping or praying for anymore.

He twisted around the corner, skidded along the recently mopped floor and stuttered through each breath when his sister in law finally came into his sights in an empty waiting room.

"Maddie w-what happened, where is she?"

Eddie had been on a three hour call that drained him of his energy and left him without lunch. And he just climbed out the shower to have Buck practically in tears, thrusting his phone at Eddie and telling him something had happened to (Y/n).

He couldn't make much sense other than (Y/n) had collapsed and was in the emergency room awaiting test results. But by the time Eddie got down here- after finding numerous missed calls on his phone and ringing his Abuela to see if she could pick Chris up for him- (Y/n) wasn't in the emergency room anymore.

Eddie's eyes did another sweep of the waiting room and his heart jumped into his throat when he realised that yes, he had been following the signs for the X-ray department, but he had also been wrong. This wasn't the X-ray waiting room. This was the waiting area for ultrasounds.

Where was (Y/n)?

He could see Maddie looked close to crying. She had been swirling her ring around her finger which was a worry sign for her and the way she bit her lip and looked up at Eddie was another bad sign.

"She's gone for an ultrasound, I- I said I'd wait for you." Maddie got up from her seat and reached her hand out to rub Eddie's arm although she wasn't all that comforting when he realised she was trembling.

"What for? What the Hell happened?"

She hadn't known what was wrong when she called him and Buck at the station. All Eddie gathered was that (Y/n) had had her bloods taken in the emergency room for standard screenings, she had been put on a drip and she was getting assessed. What had happened, what had they found out to send her here? Was it her liver, her stomach- God forbid it be something wrong with her heart.

"Sit down."

Those words had Eddie shuddering and he violently shook his head as cold dread slithered up his throat. This couldn't be anything good.

"They ran her bloods in the ER… she's pregnant, but- but she was losing blood. They're doing an ultrasound to find out why she was in pain. Eddie," Maddie's hand moved to cover her mouth when Eddie's face fell completely.

She didn't have to say anymore for Eddie to get the silent message she was trying to convey. If (Y/n) was in pain, had been having stomach cramps and now she was bleeding, there wasn't much hope for the baby. She had to be having a miscarriage or a very bad complication.

This wasn't fair.

(Y/n) would have told him if she was pregnant or if she suspected she was. She wouldn't leave him in the dark and not tell him. He should have stayed home this morning. He should have stayed with her and looked after her and checked if she was okay. He should have examined her better and made her see a doctor this morning when she was sick.

"Where is she?"

As soon as Maddie pointed to the room, Eddie was vanishing from her sights and rushing towards the door. He made very little effort to tap his knuckles against the door before he headed inside. He didn't care if they tried to push him out and tell him this was confidential. Maddie told them she would send Eddie in when he arrived.

(Y/n) had been asking for him since they got in the ambulance. She wouldn't object if he went into the room, she would probably calm down and let them assess her properly if Eddie was finally within her sights.

"Sir, you can't-"

"No- please I'm her husband, Mr Diaz. Please tell me what's going on."

Eddie hurried past the doctor and the nurse to stand on (Y/n)'s other side when her hand feebly reached out for him and she whined his name.

As soon as he was beside her, he enveloped her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. He gently carded his left hand through her hair and leaned down to kiss her temple that was flushed and felt like he was kissing a burning flame. He didn't like the way (Y/n) was writhing and trying to push up from the bed she was laid on.

Every time the doctor pressed the sonogram down on her abdomen, (Y/n) yelped or groaned and tried to shy away, but she couldn't move very far or do very much in her state.

She managed to twist her head to the right and nudge her burning temple against Eddie's arm. She wanted to edge closer to him and get him to wrap himself around her to make her feel better, but she couldn't move far and she could barely control her voice.

"Your wife started losing blood, we're trying to see where it came from and if there's a fetal heartbeat."

Hearing those words only crushed Eddie's heart even more and he hated the way (Y/n) squirmed when the sonogram moved again. Presumably so the doctor could see where the bleed was and if it was still happening or not.

It took all of Eddie's nerves to compose himself and he had to turn away from the ultrasound to look down at (Y/n) when he watched the doctor shake his head and mutter 'no vital signs.' There was no heartbeat. It felt bittersweet. They had been trying for a baby and the first time they get a positive result is the same time they find out they've lost the baby too.

But just as the doctor clicked on the screen to zoom in, a quiet, almost silent groan left (Y/n)'s lips.

Eddie looked down at her but his stomach pulled in and his heart started beating ten times faster when (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her forehead lolled against his arm. He slid his hand from carding through her hair to cup the side of her neck to feel her pulse as the nurse hurried forward to do the same.

Her pulse was dropping.

When Eddie looked to the right towards the doctor, he saw the elder man pale significantly and both their eyes landed on the puddle of blood forming between (Y/n)'s legs. She was having another haemorrhage.

"Page for an OR. Left fallopian tube ruptured, we need this bleeding under control now."

Maddie bolted up from her seat at the sight of two nurses rushing into the room (Y/n) was in, both scurrying in with a gurney between them. But it was the sight of her sister, limp and unconscious being wheeled out of the room that sent Maddie's heart lurching down to her stomach and had her wondering if she was going to throw up.

Her eyes couldn't focus on her sister and she couldn't try and follow after her when she watched Eddie storm out of the room and smash his fist into the wall on his right. The force he used was enough to break through the plaster and leave a broken indent spotted with flecks of blood from his split knuckles.

When he did it again, hard enough to send his arm spasming and shaking, Maddie tried to hold onto his elbows and reel him away from the wall and towards her instead.

"What happened?"

Eddie could feel his chest rising and falling like someone was sitting on his diaphragm, squeezing all the air out of his body. But he couldn't feel the split knuckles on his right hand or the adrenaline that was causing him to shake like a drunkard.

"She's going for surgery. Tube ruptured."

Maddie was a nurse, she didn't need any extra information to know what Eddie was talking about, and they were both on the same page. They both understood what that meant and what kind of pregnancy (Y/n) must have had for her fallopian tube to have split and caused such a bad bleed like this.

Her hands began to shake as she tightened her hold on Eddie's elbow and reeled him closer to her so he would turn and face her.

"Both of them?" She almost dreaded to ask, and the way Eddie's upper lip curled made her stomach sink. If both tubes were removed, (Y/n) would have a hysterectomy. She wouldn't be able to have kids if they did that.

"I don't know."

***

Eddie lifted his head from his hands that had been smothering his face for the last ten minutes or so. He stopped scratching his nails into his scalp and looked over at the bed when a small sound caught his attention.

Relief and hope sparked in his eyes and he shot up from the chair, chiding himself when his legs felt numb as if he was walking on hot coals sending pins and needles up to his thighs. He got out of the chair he had been crammed in for almost an hour and switched to sit on the side of the bed instead.

Both hands reached out for (Y/n)'s hand, being careful not to dislodge the cannula in the back of her hand giving her the IV fluids and no doubt a heavy amount of morphine.

His feet began to tap and jitter up and down against the floor out of anxious habit and he rolled his lips together as he leaned forward.

Eddie had been overly anxious this last hour, waiting for (Y/n) to wake up. He didn't know what he was going to say, how he was going to explain, and he had no idea how (Y/n) was going to feel or react once she came round from the anaesthetic.

As bad as it was, Eddie had been relieved when Maddie left. It allowed him to sit and stew on his emotions by himself. He could try and gather his thoughts and control every raging storm happening inside of him and if he wanted to lash out, no one was going to see or stop him. Maddie had gone to get Jee and she practically told Eddie rather than asked, that she would pick Chris up from his Abuela and her and Chimney would have him stay with them for the night.

He was beyond grateful and he had a feeling Buck would be round there too because Eddie had dodged every one of Buck's calls. And Bobby's. And his parents. He had let slip to his Abuela that (Y/n) wasn't well and was rushed to hospital, therefore his mum hadn't stopped calling, but he didn't want to speak to anyone just yet.

He didn't know how he would explain any of it.

His lips rolled together into a thin line and he did his best to smile when (Y/n)'s hand twitched in his hold and she groaned.

Her head lolled from left to right and when her eyes finally started to blinker open, Eddie's smile widened and relaxed. He tilted forward, reaching his right hand out to cup her cheek so he could press a soft kiss to her temple.

"E- Eddie?"

"It's me, amor. How do you feel?" He pressed another soft kiss to her temple, then lathered a few to her cheek before he pulled back to hover over her.

Tears welled in (Y/n)'s eyes that were trying hard to focus and she tried to gather her senses, but everything was foggy. She remembered being in an ambulance with Maddie. She remembered being in mass agony, and the last thing she recalled was Eddie whispering her name and squeezing her hand, just like he was now.

But she had no idea what had happened, why she was here or why she had been asleep. Did she pass out? Had they knocked her out for a procedure or a scan? How long had she been asleep?

She tried to sit forward but she took a sharp breath and sank back against the bed when a tightening sensation twinged in her stomach. Maybe lying down for now would be her best option.

Her free hand moved up and her shaking fingers dragged along her face until she could scrunch her fingers beneath the oxygen tube tucked into her nostrils. With one swift yank, she removed it from her nose and let the clear plastic tube hang loose around her neck. She didn't want that, she could breathe perfectly fine on her own.

"Do you feel sick?"

When (Y/n) shook her head, Eddie managed to smile and she could see the relief in his eyes. She watched his eyes glance across to the monitor and she knew he was watching her heartbeat. Her lips curved up into a soft smile when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, just to make sure her fever had truly gone.

"Good, you should start to feel better now, baby." His hand moved back to cup her cheek and his thumb softly glided across her skin causing shivers and blossoming nerves in his wake.

"What happened?" (Y/n) felt groggy, but her mind felt like a TV that was rebooting itself. She was slowly coming back into focus, things were slotting into place in her mind like pieces of a puzzle, but there was still a fog clouding in over her mind.

But her tepid smile started to fade when she watched Eddie's lips drop so fast she wondered if he had suffered a stroke. Something broken and frightening crossed over his eyes that darkened like the moon had replaced the sun and she felt him shudder against her.

"Baby, w-what is it?" She squeezed his hand which she pulled closer to her chest while she watched him sit up a sit straighter against her. His right hand stayed enclosed in hers but he moved his left hand to hold her hip with his fingers tapping and squeezing into her flesh every now and then.

"Amor, they, they did bloods in the ER, and then an ultrasound, you were pregnant."

"Were?" It was more of a statement than a question, and the grim nod of Eddie's head caused (Y/n) to roll her lips together. She couldn't keep her eyes on him. The implication was clear. She might have been pregnant when she was brought in, but she wasn't anymore.

(Y/n)'s free hand moved in a small, jerking motion but she fought off the urge to press her hand to her stomach. Instead, she latched her fingers around Eddie's wrist that was against her hip.

"Mi amor, you had an ectopic pregnancy." The way she furrowed her brows indicated she didn't know what that meant. "It- fuck… it's when the baby usually grows outside the womb, but you- it grew in your fallopian tube, and then it ruptured."

Fright and agony was the only thing Eddie could see swirling around in her eyes and it broke his heart. He wished this could have happened in a different way. If they had a 'typical' ectopic pregnancy, it wouldn't have caused such damage. (Y/n) might have miscarried or they would of found out at a doctor's appointment and a few medications and check ups would be all she needed to remove the pregnancy.

Fear grappled at (Y/n)'s heart when it seemed to sink in. All that pain, the fever, the bleeding, it was because her tube had split. The baby had continued to form in some way, despite no nutrients or hormones where it was and it split her tube.

"You went for surgery, but they had to remove the tube, and you lost a lot of blood."

Eddie hated the horror that overtook (Y/n)'s face and he tried not to wince when her nails punctured into his wrist and pulled him closer. She shook her head and her nose crinkled as she tried to find the words that were spinning around in her head at one hundred miles an hour.

"But I- can I still get pregnant?" She surprised herself that she managed to get the words out in one piece.

They had been wanting a family together since they got married a few months ago. This was the first time (Y/n) got pregnant and she had gone and had such an awful, unknown experience that they had to take her to surgery. She and Eddie had been waiting for the news that (Y/n) would get pregnant, but not like this. Never like this.

"They only removed one tube. As long as you recover okay and don't get any infection, you should be fine. You can still get pregnant."

Eddie had shed a few tears when the doctor told him the surgery went well. They removed the infected tube and had been lucky that the other one was still perfectly fine, the bleeding hadn't caused any problems with her tube or her womb in general. As long as (Y/n) didn't get any infection or sepsis from surgery and she healed fine, she had every chance of getting pregnant. One less tube didn't lower their chances or make it harder.

Tears coursed down (Y/n)'s face and when she moved her hand to cup the back of Eddie's neck, he got the silent message. He leaned down into her embrace and smothered his lips against hers.

She was okay, she was going to be fine. Eddie hadn't lost her, but he couldn't go through that kind of panic again. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to (Y/n), especially if he wasn't there to help her.

He didn't dare think what would of happened if Maddie hadn't been home with (Y/n) when she collapsed.

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz imagine #maddie buckley han #evan buckley

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soobnny · 1 year ago

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ten things han jisung says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, little angst

that marks the end of this series!

one. there's this song that's been stuck in my head for days now. it's called love me harder by the woodz. i think you'll really like it too. i think i can't stop listening to it because it reminds me of you. there's a line that goes, 'everyday in my head, i think you're the one', and i always find myself thinking about you. i really think you're the one for me, pretty girl. i'll find a time to tell you this when you're awake. i'm just nervous i'll scare you away if you found out just how much i love you.

two. i still think about the first time you ever kissed me. i don't think i'll ever forget about it. ah, you have me wrapped up around your finger, darling.

three. lee know makes fun of me because i've been watching a lot of romance anime lately. he's just jealous because i have someone as lovely as you to think about when we watch them together.

four. thank you for being exactly the way that you are and for giving me a love i've needed my whole life.

five. i don't think my jokes are very funny. i said the same joke i told you last night to the boys today, but they didn't laugh as hard as you did. seungmin even made fun of me. thank you for laughing at all my jokes. even when they aren't funny. seeing you smile is enough of an accomplishment for me.

six. ah, i can't believe i'm with the girl i've been in love with for forever in college. someone pinch me, actually let me pinch myse—ouch. okay, this is real. this is real. oh my god, this is real, and i'm in love with you and you're in love with me. i love you. i'm completely, endlessly, madly in love with you. i can't believe you're actually here and sleeping next to me. i'm not dreaming this up, not in the way i did before. this is real. wow.

seven. you know, there were so many times i thought of giving up. but, you believing in me was enough reason why i didn't stop even when i lost hope sometimes. thank you for believing in me. you make me strong.

eight. it's getting bad again. i'm scared you'll eventually see me the way that i see myself, and you'll end up leaving.

nine. you're my person, did you know? in that show you keep talking about. what was it, grey's anatomy? i can be your meredith, or the other one. i don't really know how this works because i haven't seen a single episode. i just listen to you when you rant about it. but you're my person. my favorite person, in fact.

ten. you make me feel so human.

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bluesidez · 5 months ago

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Firefighter!Miguel Part 3

content warning: fluff, some mentions of Christianity because a lot of southern grandmothers are Christian (it shouldn't be anything that makes non-Christians uncomfy)

word count: 1.5k, not proofread

Prev | Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Firefighter!Miguel who listens with a skeptical face as the trio of teenagers in front of him explain how their car ended up upside down in a lake.

“We saw a squirrel and we couldn’t just hit it, that’s inhumane!”

“So, you roll your car down a ramp instead?”

The trio stare at him with building panic.

“There’s not a single scratch or bruise on any of you.”

It takes about ten seconds of empty space before one of them crumbles to the ground in faux pain.

“I-I can still feel the sunroof on my head!”

“And you’re grabbing your stomach to show that."

The three of them stared at each other for a second, then one of them starts to cry, "We didn't mean it!"

"We're sorry!"

"I told them to just drive over a bump, they didn't listen!"

They started to crowd Miguel, each telling a different story. Miguel didn't believe a single one of them but their dedication to this bit was admirable.

"Ok. Let's get your parents on the phone," Miguel's voice demanded attention. "The totaled car is enough of a lesson, but I'm sure none of your names are on this vehicle."

The boy in the middle curses and runs his hand through his hair, "My dad's going to kill me."

"I would hope they'd be more happy that you're alive," Jess came up next to Miguel with a helmet under her arm. Her slicked-back hair has started to frizz up from the sheer amount of work it took to get a car full of water back on the ground. "If you all didn't think fast enough, there's no guarantee that we would have made it here in time to rescue you."

Firefighter!Miguel who tried his best to calm down the worried parents.

Yes, their children were ok. No, no one was hurt. Yes, with the right insurance totaled cars can be covered. No, he's not sure how the car ended up upside down. Yes, firefighters do these rescues regularly.

No, he was not giving out his number.

"What did I say about that face?" Jess sang as she sat in the passenger seat of the truck.

"Just because you say it, doesn't mean I want it to happen."

"Maybe you should get a ring. That poor mother looked so hurt when you rejected her."

"A ring doesn't stop wandering eyes or hands," Miguel gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Jess sighs, "True. That's not stopping you from staring at your phone like a sad seal while we're waiting on calls."

Miguel tried his best not to let his shoulders slump. He was a captain, not one of those reckless teenagers, "You think I did something wrong? It's been a few days."

"Maybe they think you're busy? Maybe they're nervous. Maybe they're busy. I'm sure you'll get a text soon."

Firefighter!Miguel who jolts from his sleepy daze at every notification from his phone. The 24-hour shifts can be grueling.

One glance at his phone showed some magazine emails and the reminder of a show he was excited to see.

Firefighter!Miguel who finally gets your text message on the way to his car.

You wanted to take him up on the offer of stopping by your house to check out the gas line.

His sleepy state gained a new jolt of energy and he was able to utilize it to tap along to the radio all the way home.

"When you add this, he'll never even think about finding someone else."

"Is that so?" You laughed as you listened to your grandma explain her secrets of keeping a man. Even if you found it a little funny, borderline ridiculous, and extremely outdated, you knew she was dead serious. "And how do you get the man?"

Your grandma paused and smiled, "Are you sure you're ready to hear that?"

"If you're laying out all of your secrets, I might as well!"

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock and the ring of a doorbell.

"Well, looka here!"

You can hear the glee in your grandmother's voice as she opens the door.

"Look what the Lord brought me," she comes back to the kitchen with her arm wrapped around Miguel's arm. She's smiling brighter than ever. "And he had enough sense to bring back my good dish. Won't He do it?"

"Of course, I had to bring it back. How else could I thank you both and ask for some more at the same time?"

Miguel looked funny in your childhood home. A little out of place. Though when he opened his mouth it was like everything seemed right. He looked even funnier out of uniform. The joggers were doing something for you.

"You ready?"

You blinked a couple of times, coming back to Earth and steadying your wandering mind.

"Ready for...?"

"My poor child," your grandma grumbled to herself. "He came to go check on the house. Remember?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Of course! Let's go."

As you made your way to the door, your grandma made sure to pull you back.

"And remember what I told you, ok? You just need a dash of it."

"Grandma there won't be any cooking until I get my gas line fixed."

"I don't mean the cooking, child, I mean the-"

You coughed loudly to cover her growing voice. The older she got the more her brain-to-mouth filter faded away.

"I got it, grandma."

You were sure she was going to say something about a bedroom technique, but Miguel was probably standing closer to you both than your grandma thought.

He didn't need to know whatever your grandma was trying to say.

Firefighter!Miguel who was happy to have someone that truly piqued his interest after so long.

Some of his hookups were either growing too attached or getting too ballsy, stepping over several boundaries. The last girl he dated was in it for all of the wrong reasons, and the woman before that sunk him so low he never knew he could bounce back.

He told himself he wouldn't try to date any of the people he saved, but life was growing longer and he wasn't getting any younger. Plus, you did look really lovely in your patterned pajama pants and flour in places they shouldn't be.

Something about your struck a match against him.

Firefighter!Miguel who walked into your house with a calmer state than the last.

There was a blue tarp plastered over the hole in your home and some debris left over from the accident.

"Sorry for the mess," your voice was quiet enough that he had to hone in on it.

"I've seen worse."

You look back at him with shock then laugh when you see the silly grin on his face.

He walked deeper into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, "It's not too terrible. I actually went ahead and called the gas company because something like this needs to be solved immediately."

Your eyebrows raise, "So is it already fixed then?"

"Took them about a day, but yeah. Now we just need to focus on getting the rest of this worked out."

"Thank you, truly," you smile up at him as you shift your weight. "Well, I guess I should do something else then, huh? I don't want to waste too much more of your time.

He was off work. "I don't mind. Glad to help in any way I can."

"Do you know how long the repairs might take?"

Miguel clicks his teeth repeatedly, "From about a week to a couple of months. From what I see, you should probably grab a few weeks of clothes."

"Roger that, Captain," you salute him as you turn to go to your room.

Miguel quelled the tiny spark that those words brought to him.

Firefighter!Miguel who watches you kick something out of the way when you enter your room.

He caught a flash of purple as you turned the lights on, but whatever it was under your bed in one swift motion.

Firefighter!Miguel who leans against the doorway as you bend deep to pull out more clothes.

Why you didn't grab things that were already on hangers, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't upset at the view at all.

Firefighter!Miguel who wanted to see you again, so he invited you to the annual charity car wash that his unit gave.

"We wash cars for a decent price, sell some goodies, and we take some pictures for the firefighter calendar."

He saw your eyes light up at those words, "I think I would love to see that."

"And I would love to have you there."

"Would you, now? Should I invite more people?"

"Yeah, for charity. I think I'm mostly going to be happy to see you."

Miguel picked a bin full of your clothes up and walked them through the door to his car, not really ready to process whatever look you might have on your face.

He may have nearly slammed his hand into the door with how fast he was moving, but he hopes that he can see you again soon.

divider by: @gigittamic + @/benkeibear (Idk if you'll see this, but I hope you're doing alright!!!) ❤️‍🔥

a/n: It's so late and I definitely have work tomorrow but here I am because I have no self control.

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lxkeee · 8 months ago

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART NINE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION

Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.

Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.

Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.

“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.

“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.

“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.

Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.

“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.

Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”

[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”

“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.

It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.

With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”

Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.

“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”

Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.

Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.

Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.

“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”

After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.

Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.

It created cracks in their relationship.

Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.

And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.

[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.

But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.

Does she?

No, she doesn't.

Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.

Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.

With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.

Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.

Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.

Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.

‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’

[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.

‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.

Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.

Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.

Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.

Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.

Tired, dull, and swollen.

No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.

[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.

Something she didn't experience from him lately.

“You're so beautiful.”

She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.

Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.

A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.

She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.

Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.

Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.

‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.

Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.

“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”

She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

‘That is... If he comes home...’

She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face, framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.

‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’

She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.

She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.

“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.

She felt like a walking corpse.

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.

She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.

She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.

‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.

She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.

‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.

Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.

[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.

Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.

Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.

[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.

“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.

‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’

She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’

‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’

She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.

He never came home that day.

She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.

Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.

Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.

“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.

They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.

“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.

Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”

She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”

“I love you too, darling.”

She cried herself to sleep that night.

She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.

Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.

Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.

Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.

He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.

“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.

“It's part of my job, love—”

“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”

“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.

“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?

He doesn't know the answer to that.

“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.

“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.

[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?

“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”

[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.

“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”

“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.

“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.

The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.

Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.

Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.

She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.

‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’

She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.

She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.

Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.

[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.

“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.

‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.

She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.

She passed out.

She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.

And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.

Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.

“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.

He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...

“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.

“What is it...?”

“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.

“What...?”

[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.

She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?

Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.

‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.

“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.

“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.

[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.

Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.

“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.

“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.

“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.

Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”

“I know.”

Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.

“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.

He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.

She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.

[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.

Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.

She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.

And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.

Even after all these years, she can't forget.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”

Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.

“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”

Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.

“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.

[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”

Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”

Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.

“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.

Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”

“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.

“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.

“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Am I?”

[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.

“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.

[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.

“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.

“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.

[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.

“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”

“Shush.”

“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”

“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.

“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.

[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

#lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”#lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x you

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borathae · 2 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 15 - Incubus Sex]

Pairing: Dom!Yoongi x sub f.Reader x sub!Taehyung

Genre: Incubus!Yoongi, Best Friends to Lovers!Tae x OC, Supernatural!AU

Kinks: sex in a secluded winter cabin, summoning of a sex demon, Yoongi is a lot taller and beefier than them, he also has four arms <3, and he has a split tongue and demon fangs and horns and he’s hot, god I’m such a monster fucker hahaha, dirty talk, praise, good girl & good boy kink, examination play, breast play, nipple massages, cunnilingus, rimjob, thigh riding, guided male masturbation, handjob, anal fingering, male self fuck (Tae stuffs his own ass with his own balls), he also has to jerk off in front of her while she rides Yoongi’s thigh, leather kink, pussy rubbing, multiple orgasms, magical demon spit that makes them hornier, male anal sex, magical cocks (Yoongi can shapeshift his cock), he shapeshifts it to an anal toy and fucks Tae with it while Tae has to eat her out, then later they share Yoongi, she rides his face & he gets bounced on his cock, pissing from cumming too hard, tears & screams of pleasure, aftercare

Wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: all you had to do was mention the summoning of sex demon yoongi and i knew that i had to write this fadsnfan you also wanted best friends to lovers with Tae & OC sooooo this story is filled with tension and flirting and bruh unhinged sex fsdfna have fun you little whores 🖤 ps: yoongs looks way too innocent in the header bahaha

“Do you think this is a good idea? I watched horror movies which started like this”, you told your best friend two months ago when he came running to you with the idea of going on a winter holiday together.

“Horror movies aren’t real life. It’s going to be great”, he answered and the plan was set.

You look around the place, breath coming out as white fog and nose chilly from the air. It has been snowing the entire car ride, but stopped five minutes ago. The snow sits under your feet and atop the roof of the wooden cabin. The trees carry a thick blanket as well, smaller branches bending under the weight.

The snow scrunches beside you, a deep exhale of a human follows. You turn your head, laying eyes on Taehyung’s flushed face. He is carrying both your bags, grinning from ear to ear.

“You still think this is a good idea?”

“Positivity ___, this is the best idea.”

“We stopped having signal around five kilometres back.”

“Let’s just see it as our own little digital detox.” He shoulders the bags. “Besides, this cabin has a landline.”

He walks up the three steps. You follow close behind, looking at your own feet in order not to slip and die.

“Yeah, until a serial killer decides to cut the line and murder us with an axe. I saw the movies, Tae.”

“Hush, no more talk about serial killers. This is a good idea.”

“Until it’s not.”

Taehyung turns. You collide with him, hands on his chest and lips dangerously close to touching his’. You inhale sharply, heart tightening in your chest. He is your best friend, but man, the way you feel for him would say otherwise. But that isn’t important right now. Your current situation is. You but a breath away from accidentally kissing him and him looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Stop being such a nagging party pooper. This is a good idea.”

You watched his lips move as he talked. They are still moving. You don’t know what he is saying.

“___?”

“Huh?” you rip out of your trance, looking into his eyes.

He cocks his brow up at you.

“Can you unlock the door before we freeze out here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure”, you mumble, taking out the keys you got at the camp reception to unlock the cabin. You try to regulate your pulse while you do it, hoping that Taehyung can’t see your fingers tremble just a little. Your worries are for naught because Taehyung has his back turned to you, taking in the view.

The camp you currently find yourselves in consists of ten wooden cabins sprawled around a large lake and nestled into a valley between mountains and thick forests. If one wishes to do so, one can go ice skating on the lake or wander through the snowy woods. The mountains offer various skiing slopes and opportunities to go sledding. It was Taehyung’s idea to go on a best friend holiday together because the colder months have been stressful at both your jobs. The idea itself was amazing – not only because you could selfishly pretend that this holiday was romantic – if it wasn’t for the camp’s reputation of being as close to nature as possible. The cabin had electricity and warm water, but no internet or access to civilisation. Granted, there was the reception cabin with its restaurant, but it is five kilometres away from you behind a wall of thick forest and only reachable by a rocky road. If it wasn’t for Taehyung’s 4-wheel-drive jeep and his trusty snow chains, you most definitely would have gotten stuck already.

Taehyung called staying at this camp the perfect opportunity to forget capitalism and what it does to your nerves, you still call it a bad idea which will end in serial killer attacks.

The cabin is still chilly when you enter because there was no electrical heating installed, just one fireplace.

“I’m freezing my ass off”, you whine, rubbing your own arms to create warmth.

“Carry the bags to our rooms. I’m getting firewood from outside”, Taehyung says and disappears through the door.

It doesn’t take him long to return to you standing in the living room with a face of horror carved deeply into your features.

“What happened? Did you see a serial killer?” he jokes, carrying big logs of wood in his arms.

“So we might have a problem and don’t lose your shit, okay?”

“Okay?”

He squats down in front of the fireplace, stacking the wood neatly.

“There is only one bed.”

He stops in his movements for a moment. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. The movements continue.

“I know.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach before a million butterflies lift it again.

“What do you mean you know?”

“I booked the cabin, didn’t I?”

“Yeah well, but…huh? You knew?”

“Sure I did.” He uses his lighter to start the fire, bending down to blow into the small flame until it grows and starts gnawing on the first log. He stretches out his hands, rubbing them together to warm them.

When you stay silent, he stands up and turns.

“Why? Is this a problem? We shared a bed before.”

“Yeah, when we were teens at summer camp with my mom. That’s so different.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Yeah it is”, you throw back, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You have a weird way of hiding your massive crush on him. Whenever there is the slightest hint of blurring the lines, you pretend to be annoyed by the situation. It is childish, you are aware of it, but you also want to minimise damage as much as possible. If Taehyung would be the first to snuff out the delusions, it would ruin you. So you make sure to always kill whatever spark might form between you and him. This technique has helped you survive with your stupid feelings for him for more than eight years now.

You were twenty when you realised that the fondness you had for him was way more than just the fondness for a friend. You were twenty one when you realised that said fondness will never be reciprocated when he got a girlfriend and proceeded to date her for five years. Granted, you dated someone as well for three years of that, but your feelings for him never went away. You were twenty six when he broke up with his girlfriend and you started to have hopes again. You were barely twenty seven when you decided to keep your feelings to yourself and only stay his best friend, you were too scared to ruin what you had.

You are twenty eight now and your feelings for him are as strong as they could ever be and pretending that blurring the lines annoys you gets harder and harder by the day. But you have to. What if you are only imagining it? What if he doesn’t feel the same?

Taehyung scrunches his brows at your reaction, crossing his arms in front of his chest as well.

“I didn’t think that the bed would be such a bother to you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll sleep on the couch”, he says and pouts.

Now That you don’t want.

“No, it’s just…I packed my ugliest PJs, it’s embarrassing.”

He scoffs, features softening.

“You’re so weird. As if I ever cared about the state of your sleepwear. Do you wanna start with dinner?”

You take a deep breath. The situation is saved. You made sure the lines stopped blurring and he wouldn’t be angry at you.

“Sure. I’m so down for ramen tonight.”

“Nice, me too. We could go searching for herbs in the forest. To elevate the taste.”

“No, you stay here. The last time you tried to cook with herbs from the forest, you had the shits for three days.”

“How could I forget? My asshole was so raw afterwards. I swear I thought that I shat out my insides at one point.”

“Nice. Thanks for that image”, you say sarcastically.

Taehyung laughs. You join him a second later, exchanging a sneaky glance with him. He is so beautiful without even trying. If only your morals were a little more twisted, you would kiss his stupid smile away. Taehyung breaks the eye contact, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he gets on his tiptoes to get a pot from the upper cupboard. Are your eyes deceiving you or did he gulp after he ended the eye contact?

No, don’t be ridiculous. You shake your feelings away and busy yourself with unloading the groceries you got for the week.

The next town was twelve kilometres away. You drove through it on your way to the camp. It consisted of one main road and straight lines of side roads. It had no town centre and every important shop was located along the main road. The townsfolk looked at you with grim eyes and tight lips as you rolled pass them. The clerk in the supermarket barely wanted to greet you, let alone wish you a safe journey. You called the town proof for serial killers while Taehyung called you ridiculous. You were joking of course, but it was fun to tease him a little. You liked when he threw back a witty remark.

You eat the ramen in front of the fire, sitting on a few cushions on the floor and with blankets draped over your shoulders. It is very warm and cozy and your initial distaste for the remote location was gone.

“It’s so quiet out here”, you say.

“Yeah, right?”

You and Taehyung have finished dinner by now, you have already washed the dishes and are now warming your feet by the fire, sitting next to each other. Your arms are almost touching.

Taehyung rolls his head back and closes his eyes. You study him. The fire shines onto his neck, you are so close that you can see his skin texture. You are so insane, but you swear that your tongue knows exactly how it would feel like to lick him there. He inhales deeply and exhales through his nose.

“I really needed this. Work’s been dragging me down.”

You break your eyes away from his neck, staring at the flames instead. You are such a dirty woman.

“I get you. I’m so glad that I announced my break months ago and I could say a big fat goodbye to the projects coming in this week.”

Taehyung chuckles, “so much for team comradery.”

“Yah”, you slap his stomach gently, “you know exactly how shitty Yunjin and Mina are when it comes to being good colleagues. At least the team knew that I would be gone two months prior unlike them who announce it a week prior.”

“I know, I was just teasing you. You’re cute when you whine.”

“Sorry?”

He smiles languidly and peels one eye open to look at you.

“Nothing”, he says and closes his eye again.

You gulp, tugging at the collar of your jumper. Your face is burning hotter than the fire. You swear that you actually felt your ovaries throb at his words. You are so shocked that you have no chance to pretend to be annoyed by the blurring of lines before Taehyung already talks again.

“Thinking about all the work I left behind is glorious, you’re right. God, I can’t wait to come back to work and have it all be done by the others.”

“Why are you allowed to be a shitty colleague, but I’m not?”

“You can be a shitty colleague, I fully support that. I don’t know why you’re still staying at this shit place anyway.”

“Because it’s hard finding something new. God, do we need to discuss this right now? I’ve already been stressing about my situation enough.”

“No of course not. Sorry” He rolls his head to the front and looks at you. “No more work talk. This week is supposed to be our detox. No phones, no internet, no work. Just you and I in this little cabin in the woods where nobody can hear us.”

“If you weren’t the person closest to me, this sentence would have sounded creepy as fuck.”

He chuckles, eyes glimmering in the shine of the fire. You grin, leaning in to nudge him with your arm.

“What should we do though? Now that nobody can hear us?”

His eyes flit to your lips. You saw it clearly. Your chest tightens, your airways close up. He runs his teeth over his lower lip then whispers his words.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

His eyes flit up, connecting with yours with such intensity that your vision blurs a little. Holy shit.

“You’re being fucking creepy. Stop messing with me”, you hiss in faux annoyance, pushing at his chest.

“What did I do?” he asks.

“You’re acting like a serial killer, it’s weird”, you lie, stumbling to your feet, “I’m taking a shower.”

“What if I follow you like in Bate’s Motel? You know, stabby-stabby with my huge knife into your bare back.”

Holy shit.

“Then I’m grabbing you by the balls and dragging your ass outside to sleep in the snow.”

He laughs and then you close the door to the bathroom.

Holy. Shit.

Things changed in the living room when you come back. Taehyung pushed the couch further away from the fire and made a circle with candles.

“What the hell are you up to now?”

He looks over his shoulder, scanning his eyes over your body.

“Cute PJs, I don’t know why you think they’re ugly.”

“The edges are frayed and I have a hole in my thigh part.”

“You can’t even see that. Come, sit next to me.”

You do so cross-legged.

“What are you doing? For real.”

“I’m making a summoning circle.”

“I’m sorry?”

He points at the book in front of him.

“Wait. You got the book? I mentioned it as a joke, you know?”

“Yeah, I got the book. Isn’t it cool? I followed the instructions just as described. We can finally talk to ghosts.”

One must know that you and Taehyung have an unhealthy obsession with the supernatural. If there is a new ghost hunting show, rest assured that you are watching it together. If there is a new book about the supernatural, rest assured that one of you will get a copy. One time you tried to go ghost hunting yourselves, but had to give up because you both got scared with the first sound and ran back to your car. The supernatural doesn’t scare you, only real humans do. Taehyung always says that bad ghosts are only bad ghosts because they were wronged by humans, which is another proof that the real evil are humans.

“Are you serious? Here?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“It’s our first night here. What if we summon an evil ghost?”

“Then we befriend them and help them find what they need.”

“You’re a dreamer if you think evil ghosts wanna be our friends.”

He pouts. He is so adorable that you give up with a chuckle.

“Fine, we can befriend evil ghosts, but if we can’t? We still have a week to go and I don’t wanna spend it fighting some evil entity.”

“No, but this spell is safe. Look, they call it the summoning of a helper. We can talk to a nice ghost.”

You read the page carefully. Taehyung was right. The spell sounded safe and besides, you were never successful in your endeavours. Of course you were a believer, but you were also a realist. Things like summoning ghosts or talking to them isn’t real. Taehyung seems so smitten by the idea however that you can’t say no to him.

“Fine, let’s do it.”

“Yay! I’m so happy!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“What do we have to do?”

“Hold hands and then say this sentence five times. Oh great helper we summon thee.”

“Sounds easy.” You intertwine hands with him. “Let’s do it.”

You and he hold hands and begin chanting. You keep holding hands after the chanting, staring at the candle circle. Nothing happens. You already expected it, but Taehyung seems devastated.

“Why is nothing happening?”

“Maybe we didn’t do it right.”

“Right. Let’s do it again.

“Tae no, I don’t-”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, beginning to chant a second time. You give up with a sigh and join him. As expected, nothing happens.

“I don’t get it. Something should happen”, he murmurs, flipping through the book.

“Well, we tried. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen.”

“No, let’s try it one more time please.”

“Tae, I don’t think-”

Yet again you aren’t allowed to finish your sentence, except that it wasn’t Taehyung who interrupted you this time around. The fireplace and the candles roar up in bright flames and heat. A blinding flash of light for just a second then the room is normal again. Except for the man sitting on a chair in the middle of the candle circle. He has a cup of tea against his lips, looking surprised as if he was dragged from where he was before.

You and Taehyung scream instantly, jumping to your feet and clutching each other.

The man screams back at you, but he does it mockingly.

“Aaah! I get it, I get it. Why are we screaming?” he calls over your voices.

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“Tae what did we do?!”

You and he turn to each other, holding hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yell at each other.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” the man agrees then snaps into his fingers, “are you done now? Cause I have a lot to say.”

You and Taehyung turn to him. He looks human except for his golden eyes and black horns. His hair is just as dark and his sculpted, big body is wrapped in black leather clothes and a black cape. He is wearing leather gloves and boots.

“You have no manners, going about summoning me and screaming at my face. Who do you think me to be?” the man? Ghost? Demon? scolds, wagging his finger.

“What, what, who are you?” Taehyung stutters, clutching your hands tightly.

“What, what, wha-”, he mocks him in a high pitched voice and then continues with sass, “I don’t know, you tell me. You were the ones who summoned me in the middle of my morning tea, you rude brats”, the stranger spits and lifts his cup, “do you think I’m available twenty four seven? Of course not, I have my working hours as well.”

“___ can you understand him too?” Taehyung whispers to you.

“Yeah, I can”, you whisper back.

“Well duh. Last time I checked, I can speak whatever language you mortals speak. Tch, you are more ill mannered than I thought you to be, fucking brats.”

You and Taehyung exchange a look. It is Taehyung who steps closer to the stranger, keeping you safe behind him.

“Be welcome oh good ghost. What can we call thee? How may we help thee cross into the afterlife?”

The stranger studies Taehyung’s features and bursts out a laughter with such enthusiasm that Taehyung’s hair moves from his breath. He should be disgusted by it, but something about the scent in his breath makes Taehyung feel dizzy and almost drawn to the stranger.

“Me a ghost? You amuse me, mortal. My name is Salaryoongilzus from and to Melzons, First of his Name and Devourer of Souls, but you can call me Yoongi for short.” He bows. “At your service.”

You step next to Taehyung.

“And what are you?”

“Guess.”

You pick up the book from the floor. Taehyung presses his head against yours as he reads the page with you.

“Taehyung”, you gasp and point at a small writing which suddenly appeared at the bottom of the page. “Demon. We summoned a demon.”

“A helper demon?”

“Look. A sex helper demon.”

Your heads snap up simultaneously, eyes widened and lips parted.

The demon Yoongi tips his imaginary hat, carrying a sly smirk on his lips.

“We summoned a succubus? How did that happen?”

The smirk drops from his lips. He points his finger at Taehyung.

“Rude brat, I’m an incubus. Succubus is for female sex demons, I’m an incubus, a male sex demon. Get your terminology straight.”

“An incubus?”

“Do I look like I have tits and a cunt to you?”

Taehyung studies him.

“Obviously I don’t. Go look at your girlfriend if you aren’t sure how such body parts look like.”

“No she isn’t my girlfriend.” “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Yoongi, the incubus, blurts out laughter again, pointing his finger between you and Taehyung.

“Now this is interesting. You aren’t dating and yet you have so much sexual energy between you, it is as if you have been fucking for years.”

You and Taehyung exchange an awkward yet tension filled look. Somehow the room got hotter.

“Oh? Ohoho, this is really interesting.” Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He crosses his legs and sips on his tea. “So you two are friends?”

“Best friends.”

“Best friends and you had feelings for each for how many years?”

It gets more and more difficult to exchange a look with Taehyung. It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest, beating even harder when you see how red his cheeks have become.

“You didn’t know?! Hah!” Yoongi slaps his own knee as he laughs, stomping his feet excitedly. “This is great. Best friends who have been pretending as if blurring the lines was a normal thing to do between friends. Tell me how many times have you jerked off to each other’s image?”

“Excuse me?” “I wouldn’t dare!”

Yoongi smirks knowingly. He takes a calm sip of his tea.

“Fine”, he says and stands up. “You convinced me to stay. Cases like yours are too nourishing to miss out on. Couples, you see, have weak sexual energies to feast on. Only a few are delicious after years together, but most produce bitter energies. They tired each other out and summon me for help in fixing their sex life and I have to make do with what shitty energies they still have left. But best friends? Best friends who have been dreaming of fucking each other for years? Now that is the kind of energy I fucking love”, he says and licks over his lips. His tongue is split like that of a snake and behind his pouty lips, a set of fangs is glimmering in the lights.

“But…” you begin and look at Taehyung. He can’t look at you, breathing heavier than he normally does. You are panting as well, but know that whatever is happening to you and him is the influence of the sex demon. You wave your hands at him as if he was an insect you tried to swat away. “Shoo, go away.”

He chuckles, “adorable.”

“We don’t need your help. Shoo.”

“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have summoned me.”

“Well, it was an accident.”

“Nope, it wasn’t.”

“Yes! It was. We don’t need help from a sex demon.”

“Too bad, I’m not leaving. A deal’s a fucking deal, even if I wanted to leave I can’t unless I fucked both of you to satisfaction.”

“What? But we didn’t ask for that.”

“Honey, you summoned a helper and I was the one being summoned. You know what that means, don’t you?” The demon steps closer to you. So close in fact that you get dizzy from his sweetened breath and feel weak from his intense stare.

You barely shake your head, feeling hot between your legs.

“It means the one thing you both needed help with the most, was sex. Or lack thereof in your sad case. If you needed help gardening, a little gardening helper would have appeared. If you needed help killing someone, an assassin demon would have appeared. But instead I’m here now. An incubus, the goddamn personification of sex.” He reaches out and brushes the back of his hand down your cheek.

You whimper, knees buckling.

“Deny it all you want, but you two are long due for a good fucking.”

You moan, taking a step closer as you chase his kiss.

“___”, Taehyung stops you from crossing the candle circle, pulling you back to him, “don’t go to him. Who knows what he will do to you.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “don’t worry, I’m a good boy. You know, centuries ago we were, let’s say, a little more free in how we took humans. But you know, modernisation and human rights and being civil beings, blah blah blah, basically means that we can now only do what the human subconsciously consents to.” He rolls his eyes. “One gets a new boss one time and the entire system is renewed. You should have been there when the reforms happened. There was so much bloodshed”, he laughs, “but oh well, rules are rules. If you aren’t secretly craving for something, I can’t do it to you. Deal is a deal.”

“Okay?” Taehyung cocks his brow up.

Yoongi sits down and sips on his tea.

“You don’t believe me? Go ask your girlfriend. She’s been leaking into her little pants ever since your little feelings came to light.”

“Huh?” “No, I’m not!”

Taehyung gawks at you. You meet his eyes, feeling hot in embarrassment.

“I’m not!” you insist.

Yoongi chuckles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m not!” You wave your hands again. “Shoo, the holy word compels you, leave. Whatever that holy word may be for you.”

“Religion isn’t going to work on me, doll. Humans made it up to pretend as if they were better than others and to have an excuse to greedily take money from the helpless in the name of their gods. I’m staying and you are getting fucked.”

“___, battle plan”, Taehyung says and takes your hand to drag you to the bedroom.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”, Yoongi singsongs, sipping his tea afterwards. He leans further into his chair, sighing in relaxation.

Taehyung closes the door and locks it. He turns to you with his folded hands in front of his lips. A second later, he uses them to point at you.

“So we may have fucked up.”

“Well duh, we did! There is a bloody incubus in our living room! That’s what you get from experimenting”, you exclaim and push at his chest.

“What I get? Excuse me? You were in on the plan!"

“Yes, because I thought that it would be a scam! Summoning of ghosts isn’t real! It never was.”

“How dare you”, he gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls.

“I said what I said.”

He pouts and crosses his arms. You huff out air, mirroring his stance. You share a moment of intense silence, both suddenly reliving what the demon told you. You fluster at the same time, breaking eye contact.

Taehyung is the first to be brave enough to speak up.

“Fact is, we have an incubus in our living room and he won’t leave until he fucked us.”

“I know, that’s insane Tae.”

“It is, but we won’t get him away any other way.”

“You’re not actually suggesting we take his offer?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I mean, why not? It’s not like he was that wrong. We haven’t been laid in a long time.”

“Speak for yourself, mister.”

“Well, did you?” he challenges with a cock of his brow.

“No”, you mumble and lower your head in defeat.

“See? We take the deal, get it over with and he leaves. Done. And then we burn the book and never speak of tonight again.”

What he says makes sense. It’s insane, but it makes sense.

“Fine.” You give in. “How are we doing this? Taking turns in the bedroom while the other waits outside?”

“Or we could…” he looks at your lips.

“You’re joking”, you gasp, feeling drawn to him.

Taehyung smiles awkwardly and rubs his neck nervously.

“I mean, was he that off?”

“No, I mean yes, I mean no. I mean, I don’t know.”

Taehyung steps closer and takes your hands. Your breath hitches, your skin tingles. He caresses your knuckles.

“He wasn’t off as far as I’m concerned”, he confesses in a soft voice, eyes racing between yours.

“Tae, holy fuck this is…”

“...insane? Yeah, but also freeing. I’ve been carrying these feelings with me for years and I swear I wanted to use this holiday to finally confess to you. Granted, I wanted to take you on a star watching walk and confess to you under the moon, but I guess accidentally summoning a sex demon who discovers our secret is more our style.”

You laugh. He laughs with you. It sheds both of you of so much nervous weight on your shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess it is”, you agree.

A moment of silence. Taehyung closes the distance, stubbing your nose with his. You sigh and close your eyes, lips parting as you chase his kiss. Taehyung, who understood the signal, takes it and kisses you.

Not one second is wasted before you and he find your rhythm and your hands melt deep into the other’s softness. It isn’t long after that the kiss becomes heated. Perhaps it is the influence of the sex demon or the sheer attraction to each other, but you begin moaning and groping each other hungrily.

“Stop wait, stop”, you break it.

Taehyung whimpers softly, chasing your kiss as his big hands knead your buttocks.

“Don’t stop this please. I dreamed of this for years, please”, he begs, lips brushing your cheek as he seeks your kiss.

“Tae, the incubus.”

“Right. We should probably see if he’s still there.”

Despite not wanting to, you break the moment for the sake of getting rid of your living room problem. You hold hands, opening the bedroom door together. You peak out.

“Hello”, Yoongi coos, wiggling his fingers.

“Shit”, the door slams close. You and Taehyung exchange a look. “Tae fuck, this is actually happening.”

“I guess it is.”

“This is insane.”

“It is.”

“Okay, I’m doing it.”

Taehyung hugs your arm, “do it.”

You and he open the door and enter the living room.

“Rude. Slamming doors isn’t very civil of you”, Yoongi says, studying the way Taehyung clutches you. The scent of your sexual energies became stronger ever since you were in the bedroom. He can’t wait to feast on it.

You and Taehyung stand in front of the demon, buffing your chests to appear stronger.

“If we do this, can you promise us to leave afterwards?”

“Demons don’t make promises, but a deal is a deal. Yes I will leave afterwards. Are we done now? I could have made myself another cup of tea in the time you two brats were talking. I’m bored.”

“Give us a moment”, Taehyung says and turns to you. He takes your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“Tae”, you whisper, gazing into his eyes.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes, I do. You?”

“I do, yeah. Just…” he cradles your face. “...whatever happens, I love you.”

“I love you too, Tae. I have loved you since-”

“Yeah, yeah we get it. You two are so in love. Shut up and let’s get to fucking. I’m not here to listen to you yap to each other about feelings.”

You click your tongue in annoyance, turning to the demon. Taehyung does the same.

“First Mister Yoongi from and to something”, you say, snapping your fingers, “you’re rude and impatient. And second of all, if we agree to your deal, are you going to destroy our souls?”

Yoongi smirks in amusement, “you’re a feisty one, I like you already.”

“Answer my question.”

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat, “fine. No, I am not going to destroy your souls. As I said before, I will be feasting on the sexual energies you are creating. It will be painless, unless you want it to hurt”, he explains and flashes his fangs playfully.

You gulp, taking a step back. You look at Taehyung.

“Dude, he’s, like, really doing it to me. The fangs thing was hot”, you tell him.

“I know, right?”

Yoongi chuckles, “you flatter me.”

It is Taehyung who speaks up next, “if you eat our sexual energies, does it mean that we won’t have any left for the future?”

“Mortals and their endless questions”, Yoongi says under his breath, massaging the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. He takes a deep breath and talks with annoyance in his deep voice, “no this will not happen. Don’t be stupid.”

Taehyung pouts, glancing at you.

“He wasn’t being hot to me, did you see that?”

“Yeah, rude.”

“I can be hot if you want me to”, Yoongi says and grabs Taehyung by the wrist to drag him close.

Taehyung stumbles with a surprised squeak, moaning a second later when Yoongi drags his split tongue up the side of his neck. Taehyung presses his legs together, twisting Yoongi’s shirt.

You gulp. This is so hot to look at, but also, you need to save Taehyung.

“Hey, leave him. We didn’t say yes to the deal yet”, you spit and drag Taehyung out of the demon’s claws.

Taehyung stumbles, colliding with your body, weakened and dizzy. He drops his head on your shoulder, panting heavily.

Yoongi studies him with a knowing smirk.

“For the sake of your friend, say yes. I don’t think he can take a lot more.”

“Tae, are you okay?”

“I need sex, ___, I’m”, he presses his lips to your neck, kissing it sloppily. “Holy fuck, I want you. Holy fuck, I…”

“Tae...” you mewl, eyes threatening to close and skin tingling like crazy. You wanted this for years. It feels so good.

“Hey! Stop that, I’m still here!” Yoongi snaps you out of it in a sharp voice.

You and Taehyung look at him.

“Should we?”

“I think we should.”

“Fine”, you say, “we will agree to the terms we just discussed.”

The flames flicker aggressively, somewhere far away, a bell tolls. Yoongi smiles triumphantly and claps into his hands.

“The deal has been made. Wonderful. Let’s get started.”

“So how are we going to do this?”

“You are going to listen to me. I will tell you what to do.”

“And if we do and we’re done, you’ll leave?”

“Promise”, Yoongi says and smiles wickedly.

“Fine. Then let’s get this over with”, you say and squeeze Taehyung’s hand.

“Wonderful.” Yoongi claps into his hands. “First things first, you two are too clothed. Get naked and let me see what I have to work with”, he says, busy with taking off his gloves. He throws them over the chair, stretching out his fingers.

You and Taehyung exchange a shy look. You never saw each other naked before. You saw each other in swimwear but that’s it.

“The time to be shy has passed. Get naked before I rip it off of you”, Yoongi orders sharply.

“I love you, yeah?” Taehyung says.

“I love you too.”

“I guess, this is happening.”

“Turn around, let’s do it like that.”

You and he turn your backs to each other and start to undress.

“Mortals are fascinating. You are about to get fucked and yet you are still shy.”

“Shut up.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I like you. You’re exciting.”

“Tch whatever. I’m naked, Tae. You?”

“Me too.”

“I’m turning.”

“Okay. Three, two, one.”

You and Taehyung gasp, eyes widening in awe. This is him. Naked and turned on. This is you. Naked and turned on.

“Holy fuck Tae, you’re so handsome. I…” your eyes trail off to his cock. “Damn this is…wow.”

“You’re so beautiful too. I can’t believe you’re real”, he says, eyes flitting between your tits and your pussy. “You are the most beautiful woman to ever exist.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. I-”

“We get it, you’re in love. Fucking hell, mortals are so emotional”, Yoongi says and steps out of the candle circle.

“You can do that?”

“Well duh, you made a deal”, he dismisses you and presses himself between you and Taehyung. “Now let’s see.”

He turns to you first.

"Stay still.”

He touches your tits, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His palms are so soft and warm, his hands are human but big. So big and masculine. His fingers are so long, currently pinching and rubbing your nipples.

You can only handle it by grabbing his lower arms and whimpering softly. They are strong and muscular, his body is so warm. You feel dizzy.

“A good pair of tits. Turn.” He says and does it for you.

He touches your back and arms. Each second turns you on more and more to the point where you can barely stand up.

“Pretty back. I bet your little friend fantasised about cumming on it a dozen times before.”

“Ah..”

“Mhm, you liked that, didn’t you? Such a needy girl”, Yoongi taunts and grabs your hip. He puts his other hand on your head and pushes you down until you are bent over.

“Ah geez, warn me. I didn’t stretch.”

“Too bad”, Yoongi says and falls to his knees, now eye to eye with your ass. He spreads it, making you mewl in embarrassment because you know for a fact that Taehyung looks as well.

You know because he moaned softly when Yoongi revealed you.

“Pretty hole, but not virgin. Not done by a real cock though. Dirty girl, do you like stuffing toys up your hole?” Yoongi coos.

“I uhm”, you begin writhing, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t flee, I’m not done”, Yoongi orders and sticks out his tongue to drag it over your hole.

“Ah, oh god”, you get out, falling to your knees because it felt too good.

Yoongi sees no problem in it, grabbing your hips to pull you into a doggy position. You are more exposed like this, mewling into the floor.

“Such a pretty hole and a pretty cunt to go with it”, he rasps, tracing every inch of it with his long fingers. “So wet.” He licks his fingers. “So sweet”, he growls, sending shivers through you.

“Please”, you beg, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Good. Done.” Yoongi however abandons you, standing up and turning to Taehyung.

With wobbly knees you turn as well, kneeling as you look up at them. Yoongi is a lot taller than Taehyung, commanding the room without having to try.

Taehyung looked at you first, but changes it when Yoongi touches his pecs. He looks up at him, panting nervously and making puppy eyes at him.

“Now you. I heard the disgusting things you were thinking as I examined her. You’re a dirty one, aren’t you?”

Taehyung gulps.

“Yes you are, but also a pretty one. Good pecs with pretty nipples”, Yoongi says as he rubs them. “Tongue out.”

Taehyung obeys.

Yoongi inspects it and hums.

“Good. Back in.”

Taehyung obeys. Yoongi runs his hands down his torso and grabs his cock.

Taehyung moans, thrusting into his touch and grabbing bundles of his shirt.

“You have an impressive cock for a human. It may rival that of a demon.”

“Ah, please.”

Yoongi squeezes his tip until it leaks, picks it up and licks it.

“Sweet. Both of you. How pleasing. Turn”, he says and does it for Taehyung.

The latter falls to his knees all on his own, getting into doggy position with his ass stuck high into the air.

“Holy shit”, you get out under your breath, eyes glued to his exposed hole. The view gets denied of you very soon when Yoongi kneels down and therefore shields you from it. You scoot to the side, greedily wanting more.

“Someone seems to be willing. Pretty hole and would you look at that? Not virgin either.”

Your pussy throbs. Taehyung looks at you with submissive puppy eyes, fingers trying to grasp you. You reach out, hooking your fingers with him. He holds you so desperately, turning you on with it.

“Not done by a human either. Look at that, you and ___ can share toys from now on”, Yoongi says and bends down to lick his hole.

Taehyung moans with such utter and raw pleasure that you feel dizzy. Even his eyes go out of focus and cross a little. He looks as if he wanted this exact thing done to him for years, as if he was just waiting for someone to lick his hole. He presses back, smothering Yoongi with his ass this way.

He chuckles and breaks away, split tongue dripping saliva.

“Someone is very eager. How interesting.”

He stands up, leaving Taehyung in his agony.

“Get up, the both of you. I’m done with my examination. I know exactly what to do to you.”

You manage to get up quicker. Taehyung is still too wobbly to do so, only managing to get to his knees.

“That will have to do. Mortals are so weak”, Yoongi says and sits down on his chair. He spreads his legs in a commanding, masculine way, shifting his eyes to you. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You obey his command without hesitation. His spit is still sticking to you and has been gradually ruining you more and more. You feel enchanted, wanting to obey whatever command he has for you.

“Sit”, he orders, patting his thigh.

You obey.

“Nono, so you can face him.”

“Sorry, yes”, you correct the position.

Yoongi grabs your hips and pulls you down the last few inches. You moan loudly at the first contact, back arching and fingers digging into his sculpted thigh. The leather is so rough against your sensitive pussy, his hands are paradise as they hold your hips.

“Move.”

You obey his orders, legs trembling as fiery pleasure courses through you.

“Good girl. Now, you are going to touch yourself to the view of her.”

“What?” Taehyung croaks, eyes glued to your body and how it moves on Yoongi’s thigh. Your breasts looks so ravishing like this. Taehyung craves a taste of them.

“You heard me. Show her what you were doing whenever you jerked off to her.”

“But I-”

“Don’t try to deny it. I know you lied. You touched yourself to her too many times to count “

“Tae”, you whimper, meeting his eyes.

You look so blissed out, so shaken by pleasure. Taehyung draws closer, reaching out to cup your cheek. You lean into his touch, trembling on Yoongi’s thigh.

“Tae…”

“I’m sorry, he’s right. I just-”

“Less words, more actions. Fucking touch yourself before I decide to force you”, Yoongi spits.

“Do as he says Tae, please”, you breathe, holding his cheeks, “please do it for me, please.”

“___”, Taehyung moans, chasing you. Your lips are almost touching, you share the same air. He is looking at your mouth, right hand dropping to his cock.

You moan with him as he begins touching himself. Your hips stutter on Yoongi’s thigh, your pussy throbs and leaks. Yoongi basks in the view with a dirty smirk, massaging your hips and waist with his strong, masculine hands.

“She likes this, pretty boy. Her cunt is so wet on my thigh. Keep touching yourself”, he purrs.

Taehyung croaks your name, lips claiming yours in a kiss. He can’t bear it any other way. Yoongi was right. Taehyung jerked off to the fantasy of you too many times to count. He really, really tried not to, but his mind betrayed him sometimes. He touched himself, thinking about how it would be to kiss you, to touch you and be touched in return, to experience pleasure with you and be with you naked.

He has all of it right now and Taehyung is in heaven. He pumps his cock very slowly, despite wanting to go fast. He has to go slow however, otherwise he would climax way too soon. This is his dream and it excites him way too much.

You break the kiss, overwhelmed by your own heaven. Your foreheads rest together, it hasn't been long but you are both a little sweaty already.

“Tae, this is…”

“I know, it is…heaven, you’re heaven.”

“No, you are. Ah Tae, your cock.”

Taehyung looks down at what you see, moaning deeply. His cock is flushed and hardened, leaking onto his long fingers as he massages it quickly.

“You’re so sexy, oh god, Tae your cock is so sexy”, you mewl, sliding your hands to his hair to twist bundles of it.

“Ah, I can’t”, Taehyung gasps, having to stop. “When you’re watching me, I just. I can’t handle it.”

“Your cock is throbbing.”

“___ please, you’re not making it easier”, Taehyung laughs breathily.

You straighten up, looking over your shoulder. Yoongi locks eyes with you. Dark marks have appeared on his features, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. This must be the sign that he is feeding on your energies.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” he asks in a terribly seductive voice.

“Help him last longer, please.”

Yoongi smirks. He snaps his fingers, letting a bottle of lube appear out of a cloud of red smoke. He throws it at Taehyung, who catches it.

“She wanted help. this is it. Get on your knees and show her how you fuck your own asshole. Don’t touch your cock unless I tell you to.”

You shake on Yoongi’s thigh, giving him needy puppy eyes. He purrs, smiling darkly. He inches closer to you, inhaling through his mouth with deep rumbles in his chest. They aren’t human, clearly signs of your delicious pleasure coursing through him.

“Don’t waste time. Just the mention of it makes her taste heavenly.”

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing in embarrassment. He purrs and holds your hips to guide them for now.

“Be a good girl and look at him. I know you want to.”

You obey his order gladly. The view which meets you there almost makes you regret turning around. Not because it is awful, but because it is so sexy that you have to lift your hips in order not to orgasm. Yoongi supports you, panting heavily from the sweet scents meeting his nose. So delicious, you taste so delicious. Your cunt keeps dripping on him. How delicious.

Taehyung is already kneeling, sticking his ass into the air and having two fingers buried inside. He pumps them in and out in a smooth rhythm, whimpering softly each time he bottoms out.

Not in your wildest dreams could you have ever imagined that this view would be your reality one day. His fingers are long and skinny, but seem so thick in his hole. He is tanner around his rim than the rest of his body, but whenever he pulls his digits out and his hole moves around them, pink skin is revealed.

“Holy fuck, Tae”, you get out, dropping on Yoongi’s thigh to get off to the view. You dig your nails into his leather pants, face scrunching in bliss. Each movement is electric, reaching every inch of your body. “Holy fuck, you are so hot. Baby, does this feel good?”

“Yes, feels so good”, Taehyung whimpers, voice surprisingly high-pitched for his normally baritone timbre.

“Keep doing that, you’re doing so good.”

Taehyung mewls your name, ass pressing back onto his fingers. This is everything he ever wished for. He spills tears onto the rug, curling his toes. This is his dream.

You suddenly feel lips on your shoulder and strong hands cradling your tits. Shivering, you lean into Yoongi, closing your eyes halfway.

“You’ve got a dominant side in you, don’t you? Good girl, you struck me as someone like that from the very beginning”, he rasps, rubbing your nipples slowly.

“Fuck”, you croak, leaning back into him. You can’t really grind on him like this, but it is for the best. You would orgasm way too soon if you kept going. His magic touch and the view of Taehyung are simply too powerful of a combination.

Yoongi purrs, letting you rest against his big, muscular body. He loves how small you are on his lap. Humans are so tiny and fragile in comparison to demons. Yoongi really gets off to the size imbalance, especially when it’s such a delicious feed as you and Taehyung.

He wraps his strong arm around you, tracing your stomach and playing with your pubes while his other hand plays with your tits.

“Do you like this, pretty girl?” he asks you in a purr.

“So much. Every touch…”

“Turns you on more. I know, that’s what I do to you”, he rasps and shifts his eyes to Taehyung. “I'll let you in on one of his little secrets, yeah?” he whispers.

You nod your head.

“Go ahead, Taehyung. Play with your cock.”

“Fuck. Yes”, Taehyung gets out and pulls his fingers free. His hole gapes slightly, looking so empty.

Taehyung closes his lubed up fingers around his balls, spreading it on them messily. Once he is happy with the feel of it, he takes them and does the unthinkable thing of putting them up his own ass.

“What the fuck?” you get out.

“___”, Taehyung moans, pushing in the second one as well. He seems to struggle at first before his fragile hole gives up and takes it. The skin of his balls is stretched, his rim is pulsing and his hips are pushing back.

“What the fuck? Taehyung you- oh my god, holy fuck.”

“Isn’t this marvellous? This isn’t the first time he stuffs his own balls up his asshole. He thought about it for minutes. What does this do to you, pretty girl?” Yoongi taunts.

“I have to cum”, you croak, spilling tears.

“She has to cum. Do you hear that, pretty boy? Your little self fuck is making your best friend cum.”

“___”, Taehyung moans, jerking off his cock as his balls get squeezed in his tight, pulsing ass. The sensations are orgasmic, making his legs shake and head turn.

“Taehyung”, you whimper, legs shaking as well and head dizzy beyond repair. Yoongi slides his fingers to your clit and rubs it. You squeal, arching your back. This was too much. He breaks you for the first time this evening.

“Good girl, scream for me. Good girl”, Yoongi talks you through it, head pounding from the intense feed. How sweet your orgasm tastes, how much it nourishes him. He feels greedy for more. He will make you orgasm again. He just decided. He cannot miss out on more of this power.

Taehyung begins begging as he realises what happens.

“Please I have to cum too. Please can I cum please?”

“Tell us what you fantasize about most and I’ll let you cum.”

“Eating her out! Please, I have to cum please”, Taehyung blurts out, arching his back.

You sob softly, twitching on Yoongi’s thigh. Your orgasm died down but nothing changed. Yoongi works his magic on you and you are his sexual prisoner. You don’t feel any ounce of satisfaction from your high, on the contrary, you want another one and another one and, and, and. Please.

“Can you see that? She likes it. Mhm pretty girl, do you like that?”

“Yes, like it please.”

“Good”, Yoongi stands up with you in his arms. He denies you of another orgasm like this, ignoring the whines you let out for the sake of lying you down on the floor.

Taehyung watches it happen, hand still around his cock because he is confused. He tugs his balls out of his hole, eyes glued to your body as it gets shoved around by Yoongi.

Yoongi grabs your legs, spreading them forcefully. He purrs, eyes flickering at the view of your wet cunt.

“Do it. Show her what you want to do most.”

Taehyung obeys, scrambling to your side. He exchanges places with Yoongi and gets on all fours.

“I just…this is a dream”, he says, gazing at your puffy, wet lips. You are so turned on that the normally translucent excitement almost took on a slight white and creamy texture to it. Taehyung wants to taste every droplet of it.

“Tae please”, you whimper, opening your legs further.

“I will treat you so right from now on, my baby. Holy fuck”, he croaks and lowers himself to your cunt.

“Tae!” You scream up, arching your back and gripping his hair. It is ridiculous but you orgasm with the first lick.

Taehyung wants to stop and look, but Yoongi doesn’t let him. He places his hand over yours and pushes his head down.

“Don’t slack”, he orders, voice dark and demonic from the feed he is experiencing. “Keep fucking going no matter what.”

Taehyung mewls, spilling tears. He wraps his arms around your thighs, hands rubbing your sides, and obeys Yoongi’s orders. He uses his entire mouth to please you, tongue kissing your pulsing cunt as if it was his life’s purpose to do so. And right now it was.

He dreamt about giving you head so many times that he stopped counting. Sometimes when you were at his place and you watched a movie with your legs on his couch, he imagined how it would be like to lie down between them and pleasure you as you watched the movie. He fantasised about warming your clit with his mouth, fantasised tongue fucking your hole, fantasised about tasting every inch of you.

And now it is his reality and he loves it so much that he tears up. Your thighs are shaking, your hips keep bucking up and your fingers twist his hair. You also taste like heaven. Sweet, intense, perfect. Taehyung slurps and gurgles, drinking your heavenly nectar with deep moans and happy mewls.

“This feels so good, oh god”, you get out between having to moan and having to gasp for air.

It has been a while since you felt a mouth on your pussy. Casual sex just didn’t do it for you and so you stopped seeking it. So this right now is your paradise. Out of all the things, you missed getting head the most. Getting head from Taehyung? The very reason why you currently exists.

His lips are soft and warm, rubbing over your sensitive spots as much as they suck on them. His tongue is even softer and warmer and so fucking wet, tracing your pussy and licking every single inch. He uses the flat of it as he worships your lips and uses the tip of it as he fucks your hole. For your clit, he uses a mixture of his tip and the flat of it, following it up with a suck and purrs around it.

Now that you had this first exciting orgasm behind you, you can really savour every second of it. Granted, it is still insanely difficult not to climax again.

“Tae, I love this so much, Tae”, you moan, floating on bliss.

Taehyung mewls, looking up at you. Your head is rolled to the side, giving him a view of your blissed out expression. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your brows tightened.

“He thinks that you’re beautiful right now”, Yoongi tells you.

Taehyung mewls in agreement, nodding his head.

“Tae”, you whimper, writhing in pleasure. Your pussy throbs in his mouth, feeding him more of your sweet nectar.

“She wants you to play with her tits.”

Taehyung obeys, reaching up to cradle your breasts and massage them.

“Ah!” you arch your back, hands slipping from his hair to instead drop next to your head and ball to fists.

Taehyung moans, having to close his eyes. This is too exciting. Your soft breasts are like heaven in his hands. He massages them as gently as possible, moving especially tenderly around your nipples.

You react in throbs of your pussy and arches of your back, moaning so sweetly he feels high on you.

“Good boy, keep doing that”, Yoongi praises, giving his back a kiss before he abandons his side to fulfil his wish.

Taehyung has been thinking it so loudly that Yoongi almost smacked the back of his head. He opens his pants and pulls it down far enough so his heavy cock would be free. He prepares it with a thick layer of lube.

“For the future, you don’t have to scream your fantasies at me. I can hear you just right”, he hisses and punishes him by pushing his cock into his tight hole. Not that this is a real punishment, this is exactly what Taehyung wanted.

The latter falls forward, moaning into your pussy with such enthusiasm that you have to lift your head to check.

“Holy fuck”, you croak, gawking in disbelief.

Taehyung’s neck is bend in a weird way as his face is smothered in your pussy. His hips are held up by Yoongi forcing him to keep kneeling as he very clearly drills his cock into his ass.

He smiles at you darkly, flashing you his fangs this way. Taehyung shakes and writhes with each thrust, bruising your breasts accidentally from needing to hold something. He mewls so much, mouth sucking on your clit more than he does anything else. As if he needs to soothe himself.

“Are you-”

“-hurting him? Of course not, pretty girl. I can make myself fit in the tightest hole without pain.”

“Are you using magic?”

“What do you think?” he asks and pulls Taehyung’s up by his hair. His back arches, you get a view of his messy face and the utter bliss on it. He thrusts into him, forcing a scream out of him. “Does this look like he is in pain?” Yoongi taunts, making Taehyung scream with each hard thrust.

“No”, you whimper, trying to rub your legs together for stimulation.

Yoongi notices, smiling darkly.

“Good girl, you don’t have to scream your thoughts to get them heard”, he says and picks up Taehyung easily. He never stops bouncing him on his cock even as he changes position. He falls down next to you, lifting Taehyung off his cock to turn him.

“Yoongi, your cock”, you gasp.

It is long and thick and looks more like a big butt toy than a real cock. He has five engorged segments going from small to huge.

“I’m simply shaping it to how he wants it to feel. Seems like your pretty friend wants to be fucked by a huge textured cock”, Yoongi rasps and sinks Taehyung down on it.

It is insane how easily he takes his massive cock. One by one the swollen segments disappear in Taehyung and he seems to moan louder and louder with each. Once Yoongi bottoms out, you swear that Taehyung seems as if he reached enlightenment. His eyes are rolled back, his head tilted and his mouth agape. Yoongi helps him stay in this state by lifting and sinking his body, fucking him like this. It forces his cock to bounce and slap his own tummy repeatedly, spreading the wet mess he leaks everywhere.

“Do you like this? Do you like seeing him like this?” Yoongi rasps, looking at you.

You are so close like this that you can smell his sweet breath. He is actually so beautiful for a demon. His features are so delicate and pretty and insanely addicting to look at.

“I like it so much.”

“Mhm, you’re such a pretty girl”, Yoongi rasps, “go ahead, I heard your wish.”

“Thank you, oh god”, you croak and scramble to your knees.

“Although, being called someone with a pretty face is a new for me”, Yoongi chuckles, fixing his head so you can sit on his face.

You mewl in acknowledgement, gasping a second later when Yoongi pulls you down on his long tongue. You look at where he holds you, moaning in surprise when two pairs of arms greet you. One pair is busy bouncing Taehyung on his cock, while the other is busy holding you down on his face.

“Holy fuck.”

Yoongi chuckles knowingly, scrambling your thoughts a second later with his tongue.

You scream up, matching Taehyung’s volume. The next moments are unable to be brought onto paper because they are unable to stay in your minds anyway. All you and Taehyung know is that you feel pleasure like you have never felt before. It is normally easy to talk during sex, even in the most passionate of scenes, but as you share Yoongi, you truly can't talk. The only thing wanting to leave your throats are screams and moans and sobs. Neither of you has experienced such pleasure before and soon you find yourselves holding each other as Yoongi ruins you from below.

You swear that you already orgasmed twice on his tongue and you can’t stop doing it. He is a lot hotter than Taehyung and so much wetter. His spit is clearly magical, seeping deep into your skin and making you feel as if you are high. He also seems to be everywhere at once. You feel him on your clit, your lips, your hole, your g-spot and even tickling your cervix. And it happens at the same time, constantly. It feels so good that you almost want to flee and yet you can’t because you crave more and more and more of his touch.

Taehyung feels just as ruined. From the moment Yoongi entered him, he lost all control over his body. He is so huge and long and yet doesn’t hurt. Not even when he forcefully claimed his small hole, did he hurt. He felt like heaven from the very beginning and this heaven seems to grow more and more the longer he bounces him on his cock. Taehyung doesn’t know how many times he already orgasmed, but he can’t stop. He is so filled up, so stretched out, so fucked. Each of Yoongi’s swollen segments stuffs him more and increases the pleasure. His prostate stopped being the only sensitive part as Yoongi’s leaking slit spreads his magical juice on his walls and turns them as sensitive as his prostate. Perhaps even more sensitive. Taehyung truly feels his textured cock everywhere and he swears he might never recover.

“Yoongi, I have to- I think I have to- to pee”, you finally get out, digging your nails into Taehyung’s back as you hold him close.

“Me too! Me too!” Taehyung screams into your shoulder, shaking uncontrollably.

Yoongi merely growls and holds you tighter, forcing you and Taehyung to orgasm so hard that you piss yourselves. Yoongi shoots his heavy load up Taehyung’s ass from the sweet taste of your combined sexual energies, growling into your cunt demonically.

He knows from the way you and Taehyung writhe afterwards that his job is complete. You are pleased beyond repair. He lifts you and Taehyung off of him and carries you to the couch. He lies you down in a way so that your leaking holes would drip on the floor and not the cushions. You are both gaping, although Taehyung definitely takes the crown. The view pleases Yoongi a great deal. He did a good job.

“Breathe and hold each other until you feel better.”

You and Taehyung cuddle each other, shivering in a good way. It feels so good to be with each other after such intense sex.

Yoongi pets your heads, using all four hands for it.

“You both did well.”

He straightens up, crossing his four arms in front of his big chest. He snaps his fingers, making a table of food and water appear.

“Try to hydrate and eat something once you can move again. Talk about tonight, I heard it helps mortals bond.”

You and Taehyung mewl softly, drooling on each other. Yoongi studies the ruined states of you.

“I did good. I was thorough”, he says and nods his head, “my job here is done. I won’t ask you if you liked it because I know you did.”

He turns his back to you and walks to the candle circle.

“You will feel stronger and healthier in the days to come because I filled you with my nectar. Use it to fuck each other, it will feel better to you. Or don’t fuck and talk, mortals are so emotional how disgusting. Just fuck, seriously, it’s more fun.”

He steps inside the circle.

“Yoongi”, you croak, eyes barely wanting to open.

He looks over his shoulder, “yes, pretty girl?”

“Can we see you again?”

He smiles wickedly. The candles burn brightly, somewhere far away a bell tolls. His wicked smile grows.

“In your dreams”, Yoongi hisses and disappears.

You and Taehyung both know that this wasn’t meant as an insult, but a promise. You just made a deal with the fucking devil.

276 notes · View notes

spacedace · 8 months ago

Text

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

#batman #batman au #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #dc penguin #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #dick grayson robin #bruce wayne #the joker #tim drake #dc robin #gotham city #open season au #i don't go in for Jason being the 'angry' robin or the 'violent' robin #he was the lil chainsmoking ball of sunshin robin that made sure to do his homework first before going out to fight crime #dick was the scariest robin because he was BOTH incredibly violent & full of rage AND a ball of sunshine & unrelenting hope #Jason was a Gotham kid (an Alley Kid) and I think a lot of the rogues would have respected that #dick got his respect by teaching them how many of their bones a tiny 9 year old could break in a single kick #feel like there's a scene in the extended au in which Tim gets kidnapped but instead of being held for ransom or threatened #it's just the Rogues aggressively mother-henning him and trying to make sure he's alright #Dick gets a call from Harley later that the newest Robin is fine he and Riddler are coming up with deadly traps together #No she doesn't see anything wrong with that - it's just some enrichment activities for them - why do you ask?

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smileysuh · 1 year ago

Text

Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy.

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life.

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith.

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire.

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate.

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana.

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game.

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one.

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.”

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten.

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy.

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate.

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie.

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him.

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot.

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.”

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys.

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God.

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!”

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.”

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour.

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress.

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate.

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you?

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.”

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.”

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit.

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.”

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him.

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin.

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain.

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat.

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God-

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room.

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix.

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner-

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack.

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?”

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him.

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth.

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed.

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face.

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly.

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders.

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours.

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?”

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand.

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?”

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization.

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side.

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another.

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling.

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game.

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.”

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.”

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum.

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers.

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums.

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder.

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable.

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?”

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly.

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?”

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly.

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you.

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.”

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.”

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.”

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants.

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you?

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment.

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark.

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row.

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck-

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths.

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point.

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back.

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans.

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet.

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.”

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips.

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.”

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you.

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck.

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked.

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint.

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing.

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment.

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique.

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath.

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet.

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark.

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you.

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth.

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear.

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth.

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you.

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair.

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core.

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat.

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum.

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.”

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor.

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan.

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-”

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit.

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly.

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.”

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is.

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock.

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed.

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself.

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves.

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you.

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock-

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest.

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room.

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands.

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own.

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark.

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.”

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all.

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you.

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this.

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you.

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before.

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided-

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time.

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you.

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours.

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs.

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure.

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body.

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.”

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge.

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life.

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.”

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-”

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked.

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-”

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own.

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation.

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping.

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-”

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand.

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy.

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident-

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy.

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-”

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy.

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching-

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip.

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck.

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress.

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy.

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it.

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material.

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.”

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with.

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.”

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.”

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months.

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder.

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind.

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🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier.

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly.

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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