#that dimple near his mouth makes me light-headed

[childoftheriver]

The boys being adorable. Oh, and guess what Greg’s doing?

[gurugirl]

Says Who? | demonrry

Summary: Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

A/N: Something filthy and fun for Halloween! Not really scary, mostly just a smutty thing!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: smut, filth, spitting, major MAJOR size kink, creampie, unprotected public sex, Harry's a demon (or maybe he's just a dick - you choose)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Y/n could feel the base vibrating through to her marrow. The whole club was alive, a sticky hot sea of sweaty, dancing bodies, strobing lights, god-awful costumes.

She was less concerned about her white angel wings getting dirtied than she was about her drink getting something tossed into it. Some of the people making eye contact with her were… she didn’t know, but perhaps she’d keep her distance.

Though, as she looked down into her plastic cup, she realized it was all but pink melted ice. If she wanted something to worry about (other than her delicate white wings) she’d need a refill.

She figured she put a little too much effort into her costume. Her angel wings were made of real feathers and lace, lined with ribbing to make them look real, and her gauzy smock dress left little to the imagination for what she wore under. Of course, she doused herself in a healthy amount of soft shimmer and glitter and attempted to do the perfect winged liner –it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn near close.

She'd gone alone to the club. A maybe not-so-smart move in retrospect, but still. She was there and she wanted to do something she'd never done before. Something outside of her comfort zone. Maybe even a little dangerous for once in her life.

The bar was packed with bodies, all lined up for a drink. Y/n waved her arm in the air, hoping to get the attention of the lone bartender. The poor guy was running his ass off and she could see sweat stains under his arms. It was rather stifling in the building.

Suddenly a very warm hand was pressed into her back, hot palm burning through the thin fabric of her dress down to her skin, “You don’t need another drink, Y/n.”

Turning to her right she saw a man with an imposing stature standing over her, his massive mitt cradling his own cup as he looked down at her, green irises practically glowing.

“Says who? I’ve only had one anyway. And how do you know my name?”

The grin that stretched over his face caught her off guard. He was handsome. She let her eyes wander from his broad shoulders up his neck and to the top of his head. He had thick dark waves with small pointed horns sticking out of the top just so. They looked real. The devil. How fitting a costume for a man who looked like that.

“Your name is printed on your cup,” he pointed. Y/n had forgotten that everyone was given a cup upon entry, their name scrawled across the smooth plastic, and told not to lose it. It was one of those underground club events and the cup was like your ticket to get in once you'd passed the initial pay-to-enter area.

She laughed and smiled, “Oh, I forgot,” she looked down at his cup again, noticing large rings adorning his thick fingers, “Harry.”

“What’s an angel doing in a place like this anyway?”

Another laugh puffed from behind her lips before she used her tongue to wet her parched mouth, “It’s a club. I don’t know. Saw an ad and it sounded fun. Why? Should I be worried?” Y/n bit her lip for effect. She wasn’t worried. But she did like this man’s vibe. He was flirty without being overt, his warm hand still sprawled along her back, face dangerously close.

“You should be worried. This is not a safe place, Y/n,” an evil smile worked its way over his features. He was teasing. Or maybe he wasn't.

She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes before releasing her bottom lip, “But you’re here,” she looked back over her shoulder at the wild crowd behind them, “You gonna keep me safe from all the bad guys?”

“Is the angel asking the devil to watch over her tonight?” His grin grew lopsided, a dimple digging into his skin. God, he was attractive.

“Maybe. But you won’t let me get another drink so I don’t know…”

His eyes scraped over her face and down to her angel outfit, auditing, before he pushed into her back, moving her toward him closer. She watched him sit his cup down on the syrup-smeared bartop before his hand found her jaw, fingers digging into the soft part under her mandible, “Oh you’re parched, are you? Open up for me, angel.”

She felt her body swell and seethe in heat from his bold ask. But what else was she there for that night but to have a little fun with a stranger? So she parted her lips, slowly opening wider as he dipped over her frame and tilted her neck back until she felt the warm glob of saliva land on the tip of her tongue. She let out a pathetic moan when he licked over her lips, his spit moistening the dry skin like he was making sure she knew whose spit was sliding down her throat.

“Did you swallow for me?” He asked cooly as he kept her jaw in his hand.

Knocking her head up and down she kept her eyes on his and then suddenly she was being pulled away from the bar. He had an arm tucked around her waist, keeping her next to his warm frame until they’d moved into the shadowy edges of the club and he prodded her into a small space between a column and a metal air duct before he was pushing his hips and mouth against hers.

He tasted like autumn outdoors, hay, spit, burning leaves… Running her fingers into his hair she felt his hand on her hip, bunching at the sheer fabric until he was reaching into the thin wispy lace of the top of her white panties, palm gliding down her belly button until the pads of his fingers were pressed in a place she would normally never let a stranger touch. Especially not in public.

But it was Halloween, and this was what she’d been looking for. Something a little dangerous, a little crazy. This was the kind of place where one could get away with such iniquities.

Soon, the only thirst that remained was to feel more of him. To feel his hands, his fingers… He smoothed his tongue against hers as his middle finger rubbed tightly over her exposed clit after he'd torn the delicate fabric of her underwear. She was throbbing against him. Wetting his digits slowly until it was slippery and he could easily slide one and then two inside of her cunt.

“Love when I make angels wet. You’re just a good girl but this is exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?”

She moaned and yanked his hair, hoping he’d put his lips back against hers. She loved his mouth, loved how he kissed her all dirty and raw.

“Yes…” She blinked up at him and then gasped when he shoved a third fat finger inside of her hole. It made her wobble forward into him, her cheek pressed into his solid chest. He fucked her just like that, on his fingers as he kept whispering into her ear, “Gonna change your life tonight angel. Show you what it feels like to really get off.”

Her mouth was wide open as he slid his fingers so deep she was certain nothing had ever gone in like that before. Not even Donny’s hard prick felt like that (what a disappointment he had been).

“Can’t even stand up straight and that’s just my fingers in there little girl. What are you gonna do when it’s my cock splitting you in half, hm?”

She groaned as he continued pumping his fingers through her gummy insides and she gripped onto his biceps so she didn't simply wither to the floor.

Y/n didn’t want anyone to see what was happening but it felt so good and she was so close. Already. The heel of his palm was bumping, sliding into her clit with every thrust of his wrist and she swore he was fucking into her to the beat of the bassy electronic music.

Her head began to spin and her ears were ringing, muffling the noise of the crowd and the music when she felt the delicious release of her orgasm.

Harry pushed her back into the wall quickly when he felt her shaking and with his free hand he held her face, smushing her cheeks with his thumb at one side and his pointer finger on the other, “Look at me when you come. Your orgasm belongs to me. Fuck that’s so pretty…”

She was stunned. It felt so good. Her body was writhing and being pushed and pulled at the hulking man’s direction. He guided her through it, plunging his fingers inside of her and dragging them over her slick spongy spot at the front of her wall. It was like he’d found a hidden switch within her insides and turned it on for her.

“You gonna keep being a good girl for me? Let me claim you and fuck an orgasm out of you on my cock this time? Want that, angel?”

Y/n’s rationale had gone out the window the moment he spit into her mouth and licked over her lips at the bar. So she nodded as he pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought all three, slimy, coated in her arousal, up to her lips, “Open up that thirsty little mouth. Suck.”

She wrapped her lips around his fingers and he pushed them past her comfortable gag spot as he made haste with his other hand, undoing his pants before pulling out his dick.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth and pulled at her neck, "Take a look. Think it'll feel nice and snug inside that tiny little angel pussy?"

Y/n shifted her eyes down to the hot engorged dick the man had brushing against her, his tip wide and ruddy against her labia. She inhaled, looking up at the man and then back down at the size of him, "It's… I don't know… It's so…" She bucked into him, feeling unsteady, her thighs still shaking.

"At least twice as big as what you've played with before. I know. But you get used to it. Come to love it. The way it plugs in so deep, carves into your insides, and makes a nice wet home… No one ever forgets it."

She clutched his forearm with a shaky hand and used her other to reach down and touch him. He was hot. So much warmer than she expected. Peering around his broad shoulders she could see people grinding and doing ungodly things on the dancefloor already. There were no rules in that club, except to not lose the cup you were handed when you paid to enter, and she'd already lost that at the bar somewhere.

When she felt him grip tight the meat of her thigh and perch it over his hip he slid his cockhead to her dripping seam and began to dip in.

"Oohh…" she warbled out a moan and then looked up at his handsome face, "Mmm…"

"Open that pretty mouth, show me your tongue."

She did what he said, parting her lips as her pussy spread open little by little. The feel of him slowly pushing into her was sticky, gooey, sharp. But the warm spit that dripped onto her tongue was salacious, made her pussy throb and flutter around his girth.

"There we go. Get that pussy spread apart for me. Let me have you, angel."

She was already letting him have her. She was his… whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Right in front of everyone… sloppy, wet, deranged, disgusting…

"Mm ahhh…" she panted, her brows pushed together as he rutted in and in, filling up every bit of empty space she had available. Split open, stuffed full, slippery hot debauchery.

Harry threw his head back for a moment, basking in the tight pussy wrapped around him. Sopping. It was his chance to feel a bit of heaven.

Reaching down for her other thigh, he pushed her up and lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist so he could work into her deeper, really give her a taste of what the devil could do.

She yelped and gurgled wetly, eyes bulging as he buried himself in, "Fuck…"

"Yeah? Didn't know angels liked to say such words." He swiveled his hips, a harsh plunge in again, and the squelch of her pussy against his length meant she was as wet as she could possibly be. "Oh you're soaked, angel. No wonder you're so thirsty. All your juices are down here," He rocked up into her and she cried out, "So you can take me properly."

While no one much cared about the angel with her wings pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around the devil's waist as he stuffed her pussy with his big cock, it was obvious what was going on in that dark little corner every time the strobe flashed over the pair copulating. If the look on her pretty face didn't give it away, all fucked out, wet lips parted, eyes rolling back into her head… it was the way the devil was rocking his hips sharply against her, making her legs shake with every thrust.

He knew he was hollowing her out, poking in beyond what was comfortable for her… he knew she'd never forget the way he felt inside of her. It'd stick with her forever and she'd never be able to come again without thinking about the devil.

She'd masturbate thinking about that night at the club and she'd release with the image of him inside of her. And any poor man who stuck his rinky dinky human dick into her pussy would never get her off –she'd be thinking of Harry, the demon with the biggest cock she'd ever had. That would be the only way she'd ever be able to come. A curse, but also a blessing because now she'd always be able to get off to the memory of him no matter who was fucking her. Everyone else would pale in comparison… but that's what he loved so much about fucking sweet human girls. They never forgot his big cock and he owned them in a way. At least he owned their orgasms.

Slushy, gloopy, splatting… his long dick dragged and kissed against her sweetest spot and she felt the tingle and the ache of it as she bounced with every drive of his hips.

"Give me that come, angel. Right on my cock."

She inhaled sharply as he laved his tongue over her lips, slicking his saliva over her mouth and spitting onto her tongue again, "Mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Cunt will never feel it like this again but she'll remember who owns her won't she?"

Y/n was simply done for… her body was putty, molten liquid, dripping, bowing to his whim. His cock would be forever imprinted within her womb as she felt him slide through her channel, thick and throbbing - it was as if she could feel his bulbous cockhead pushing into her tummy, bulging at the front. Microscopic tears around her gaping, wet, stretched muscle she'd need to tend to later. All worth it to be fucked like that.

Her eyes were bleary as she looked at him when she began to come. He was right and she knew it. Her body would never forget it. She was ruined for him already as her vocal cords hitched up an octave and she made his favorite noise. Every dip of his broad crown through her gushing walls smeared his leaking slit against her cervix.

Harry watched the angel fall apart around his cock, face crumpled, body reveling in her release, toes curled in her shoes, but when she moaned his name and gazed into his eyes with droopy lids he couldn't hold back the way she was milking around him. He slammed into her, one brutal thrust, cock burrowing in as he splattered and pumped into her. His warm spend, a mucusy mural for her tight little wet walls. Like his signature left behind so anyone else who entered would know he'd been there. That everything inside of her cunt belonged to him because he'd already claimed it…

She'd think about all that later. That she'd had unprotected sex with a stranger at a club. That he'd filled her with his sperm and spit into her mouth. She'd get tested and watch for her period and then get tested again. And when she turned out clean and not pregnant part of her would be disappointed that she didn't have some excuse to search for the man to let him know what he'd done so she could do it all over again with him. Get her brains fucked out and her little pussy stretched in a way that shouldn't have been as good as it was.

But she wouldn't regret that part. Her only rue that night would be that she hadn't gotten his last name or maybe a number. It was probably better to not know who he was, though. Because if she did she'd obsess. She'd fiend. She'd pine. She'd stalk. She'd make a fool of herself to just have another taste. And a guy like him would probably already be onto the next.

It was better to not know who he was because he wasn't really nice. When he was finished with her, when his come was fucked into her and he made her watch how he shoved it all back in with his huge cock, gripped her neck, and made her look at the way it dripped from her puffy, used pussy and how he took his dick and pressed it back into her stinging hole and told her to not to clean herself up –he left. He dropped her down to her feet, tucked his big cock back into his pants, patted her hot little cheek, and walked off without even turning back to look or check on her.

She watched him disappear into the crowd with her torn panties at her hips and his come dripping down the inside of her legs, chest heaving, heart thrashing in her chest… Her back and her legs and her pussy ached but she'd have him again if he just came back. So, it was better to not know.

It was better to not know because maybe he actually was the devil.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

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[jellinuy]

౨ৎ — fluff ending to part 1. wc; 1k.

“…oru…satoru.”

an eye opened. then two. white lashes fluttered around hazy blue irises as the sorcerer began to come to his senses, adjusting the sunglasses that had slid down his nose with a small, ‘hm?’

at the sound of your voice, gojo’s eyes slid around to take in the scenery. but he could’ve sworn you just… wasn't he back at jujutsu high a minute ago? in the infirmary? but instead, the teenager found himself sitting on a bench, his body sheathed in dancing blue artificial light and the passing shadows of ocean creatures behind glass.

the aquarium, he realized, his heart rate spiking. it wasn’t real.

“y/n,” he mumbled slowly, a lazy grin on his face, and never before had gojo been so happy to say your name to you.

“that’s me,” and the full, clear sight of you brings immediate relief — a painkiller for the heartache he’d just endured in his sleep. it was still rattling to him, after all this time, how realistic his nightmares were. he swore he saw the blood soak the pure, ivory sheet that covered you, the paling of your dying skin, the emptiness where your gorgeous, beating heart should’ve been. felt his own heart rip nerve by nerve and his stomach clench into an ugly knot as yaga told him you were “killed in action”: finite, just like that. you were gone.

he’d never been so glad to be awake, to be here, in front of some stupid fish tank, with you. he took in your face as you talk, a worried crease in your brow when you see your reflection in his blue eyes, now glassy. transparent and red-rimmed. vulnerable, if you looked close enough.

“you, um… fell asleep on my shoulder,” you spoke when he didn’t. “you okay? been getting enough sleep?”

oh. that was another thing i loved, he remembered, and it was like his body knew you the way his heart did, as his smile stretched into a pair of dimples. your stupidly big heart.

“…yeah. don’t worry your pretty little head about me,” he assured her, much quieter than regular old satoru gojo would have. cerulean peeked out at you from over his sunglasses and from under his hair, trying to say the words his mouth couldn’t as he rested his head on your shoulder.

call him clingy, but he wouldn’t move for anything right now. feeling you, alive and well and happy against him, that was enough.

knowing you were here was enough.

in an attempt to make small talk, you lifted you arm — the one he wasn’t using as a pillow — to point at a passing beluga whale at the massive tank in front of you both.

“satoru, look, a belu—”

“y/n, i’m in love with you.”

he lied. it wasn’t enough. he didn’t just want to be near you, to be close, yet still at arms length, he wanted to be in your arms. to kiss your face and make you smile at him in a different way than with everyone else. to nap with you on days he didn’t feel like “the strongest”, to be weak around you, to feel those damned butterflies every time he heard you call him “baby.” that was what he wanted — to openly love you, to be loved in return by you and nobody else.

“you… huh?” your hearts pounded in tandem, slamming against your ribs uncontrollably, to the point where it hurt to breathe in the best way possible. “wh… s…say that again?” you must’ve heard wrong, must’ve misinterpreted.

“…said ‘m in love with you,” he repeated, muffled due to his cheek squished against your shoulder. “like, i wanna be a jellyfish with you.”

“…oh.”

“yeah.”

it would be a lie to say that you hadn’t noticed the way your best friend looked at you, the blatantly obvious hearts in all six eyes when he laid them on you, so this wasn’t as unexpected as you made it look.

“…i think,” dry as your mouth was, you still spoke. your eyes weren’t trained on him, but instead at the fish in the life-sized tank, the shadows of passing jellyfish diluting the clear blue luminescence of the waterlogged glass periodically, “i might be in love with you, too.” it came out shakier than you wanted, but you patted yourself on the back for even getting it out at all. and it was true. you came to know him, to appreciate him, to be annoyed by him, to fighting by his side, to wishing you could be there forever, next to him.

in typical gojo fashion, he makes a face. you can’t see it, because he’s still resting on your shoulder, but you feel the indent of his cheek as he pouts. his hand not-so-subtly sneaks down to yours, and he prods your fingers open so he can slide his palm on top of yours. you swear you would’ve fallen over if you weren’t sitting.

“you ‘might’? i just told you i wanna live as a sea creature with you forever, and you ‘might’ like me back?” he mumbles: maybe he spoke clearly, actually — you don’t know, because the only thing in your ears is the pumping of your blood.

the lovestruck idiot pokes at you again — “c’mon, y/n, say it properly.”

his fingers play with yours, scratching your palm gently, tracing hearts into your skin. his head continued to rest on you, and he was ever grateful you couldn’t feel the warmth of his red face through your shirt, the burning of his ears. he’d find some way to make today last forever if he had to, if it meant sitting here next to the best friend he’d come to see as more, just watching fish swim. your hand finally clenched around his, slightly clammy, and clearly nervous, but it was your hand, so he couldn’t care less. and you squeezed his hand and said it right, because if gojo had the right to anything in this world, it was your heart.

“yeah… you’re right… i’m in love with you, satoru. let’s be jellyfish in our next lives.”

@boundedbyfate, @c4ndytr4p, @iluvies, @sad-darksoul, @fayereblogs-4, @ratmilk14, @lovelymimimoo

[aklaustaleteller]

Not For A Long Time

Klaus returns back to his lover omega's cottage after a long time, and he wants nothing more than to just mark her as his, all over again. But all Y/n seems to want, is to eat her dinner and get on his nerves, ...and to absentmindedly rub herself all over him.

Warnings - allusions of smut, and Alpha/Omega dynamic.

Word Count - 1.3k

Masterlist | Please reblog if you like the fic!

This is something I found in my drafts and well, let's just say I wanted to get it out of there. It's quite aimless and silly, and doesn't have my best writing skills used, but I still hope you enjoy reading hahah <3 (I lowkey enjoyed writing this type of fic though, so do let me know if I should write more stuff like this!!)

A candle flickered in the middle of the kitchen island, its crackling being the only sound other than one of the running water in the sink.

The fridge was, quite carelessly, left open ajar as Y/n kept herself busy on the other end, washing the rice before she could cook it. She hummed a very gentle tune, or it could be a rock song that her soft voice just happened to make sound similar to a lullaby.

It was as she was taking out a casserole from the fridge that she felt the night wind come in with a rather strong force, freeing some of her loose hair strands from where they were tucked behind her ear.

"Klaus, how lovely it is to see you," she smiled, closing the fridge and lifting her gaze from the stove to settle it onto the charming intruder.

"Hello, love," he pursed his lips before a smirk dug out one of his dimples. "It's been quite a long time," he continued, strolling closer to her.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him to focus on the task at hand. "A week is not a long time, Klaus," she said with a chuckle.

"Not even when it's your lover Alpha that's been gone?" He asked as a whisper in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder while snaking his arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you the answer to that in just words," she answered, her voice having gone quieter along with his, and turned her face to press a peck on the corner of his mouth, doing it again when a smile stretched out on his lips.

He sighed then, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathed in her scent. The smell of old books, soil after it's just rained along with some hint of a rose and finally, her blood, knocked his senses out for a couple seconds.

It reminded him of the first time he had caught the whiff of her scent from a couple miles away, the full moon shining down on him and making his night-sky fur look silkier than it was. Taking advantage of being in his wolf form, he’d chased down the scent and ended up coming to a halt in front of a front garden lit up with warm lights coming from inside the cottage.

He'd seen a couple fireflies near the ivy that crept all over the walls from outside, making the building look rather earthly and older than the time itself. The noise of plates and bowls clattering didn't go amiss by Klaus, making him near the noise with deliberate steps.

Saliva coated his tongue as he finally stood just below the window, keeping himself hidden as his eyes peered inside to see a woman stirring something in a pot, sputters of laughter falling from her soft mouth as an energized dog skittered around her feet, clawing at her skirt to reach the treat she held up high in her free hand.

His lips had pulled back in a smile then, eyes unable to move on from her.

He'd returned every night since then, catching her attention on a particular one when she'd been out by the lake, crying in her knees and that was when Klaus had realised that the woman, he'd secretly been going mad after, was an Omega, left all alone when she should've been in an Alpha's arms, being taken care of in all shape and form.

And so, very calmly he'd approached her and when she'd realised that he was an Alpha wolf, she lost even that slight control over her emotions and clutched his fur as she cried into his neck, stutters and hiccups escaping her mouth until she'd calmed down and passed out, tired, in his presence.

That was the day he'd swore to himself that he wasn't going to let her end up hurt ever again. And as he took her home in his arms, silently hoping that she wouldn't wake up to catch him naked, he'd laid her in her bed when she allowed him to enter his home in a sleepy haze.

"Stay, Alpha?" she'd asked, her eyes moistening all over again and Klaus had not the heart to leave her be, causing him to lie down beside her and hold her in his arms as she purred and slept the night away, his body merely covered by her sheets.

Since that night, he'd learned that she'd been crying that day because her puppy-dog had been adopted by someone in the town who had also adopted his siblings. He would be happier with them, she'd sobbed into his arms while telling him, trying to reassure herself over Klaus.

And also, the fact that she was, indeed, an Omega yet to be claimed by an Alpha. She'd yet to give herself to him completely, to surrender herself to be his to love and care for. But Klaus understood that, accepted her past traumas and allowed her time to open up to him day by day.

"I was just preparing dinner. Care to join this lonely Omega, Alpha?" She asked, giving him her full attention after finally placing the food on the stove.

Looking at him doe eyed as he cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss on her mouth, she whimpered when a growl rumbled deep in his chest, meant to be heard just by her.

"Of course," he accepted gently, backing her up until she was sat on the kitchen island.

She motioned for him to wait, and Klaus looked at her confusedly before he saw her blow out the candle behind her. A chuckle came from him, finding the action cute.

Y/n faced him again with a sloppy smile on her face, letting him press kisses on her mouth over and over again until he had her laughing and pulling away from him. He chased after her nonetheless -- pressing his mouth to her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and continued to pepper kisses down her jaw.

And it was when he reached her collarbone that he truly began marking her. He left a trail of love bites behind as he scattered his kisses all over the exposed skin. Her little whimpers and moans only made him hungrier for her, making him pull her hair back, giving him more skin to mark up.

"Klaus --" she began but he cut her off with a hiss.

"Now, darling," he breathed warningly against her skin. "It’s Alpha," he corrected her.

"Pl-please, Alpha," Y/n purred, beginning to feel sensitive. "Need to turn off the stove, please," she begged him to let her get away, and Klaus did.

Lifting her off the counter, he let her wrap her legs around his waist as he walked over and turned off the stove and moved on to speed up the stairs.

He laid her on the fluffy bed that reeked of her scent but before he could lie down over her and rid her of the clothes that got in the way of his mouth and her skin, she was out of the bed and running away from him, spurts of laughter falling from her lips.

His eyes flashed golden just for a second before he was chasing after her, finding the situation rather amusing.

"I'm hungry, Alpha. Won't you eat with me?" She said out of breath when he caught up to her, snatching her from behind and into his chest.

And her giggles stopped altogether when she heard him growl, this time louder to warn her against disobeying him as she realised that she’d begun getting on his nerves now.

"Please Alpha?" She mewled for him, getting him with those eyes all over again as he accepted her pleas and took her over to the dining table, bringing her the dinner and feeding it to her whilst she sat in his lap, talking about all the happenings that she came across while he was gone, not for a long time, clearly, as she couldn’t stop absentmindedly rubbing herself all over him.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?” 

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him. 

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown. 

Fuck. 

You wanted the day to be over. 

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right? 

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation. 

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart. 

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak. 

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return. 

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do. 

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness. 

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked. 

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye. 

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out. 

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don��t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault. 

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day. 

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school. 

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee. 

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows. 

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied. 

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. 

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow. 

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now. 

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words. 

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?” 

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected. 

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished. 

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee. 

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly. 

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.” 

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft. 

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly. 

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine. 

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash. 

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you. 

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes. 

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away. 

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed. 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body. 

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar. 

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs. 

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.” 

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled. 

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine. 

“Joel,” you whined. 

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours. 

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat. 

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear. 

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear. 

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved. 

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.” 

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing. 

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless. 

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing. 

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair. 

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek. 

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you. 

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly. 

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him. 

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand. 

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together. 

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered. 

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you. 

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch. 

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased. 

“I just don’t like them!” You defended. 

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms. 

“Your turn,” you sighed. 

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned. 

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face. 

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.” 

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected. 

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften. 

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest. 

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you. 

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered. 

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you. 

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks. 

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed. 

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled. 

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier. 

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence. 

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room. 

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously. 

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it. 

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand. 

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head. 

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver. 

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking. 

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

[senualothbrok]

Love and beauty

Summary: A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Musings on beauty, love and death.

Word count: 1.3k

Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Non-ascended Astarion. References to bereavement.

AO3 link

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You are lying on your side, looking at Astarion.  Here at the Elfsong Tavern, morning is rousing from its slumber. You are cocooned in the bed you have shared with him since the night he took you to his grave. The sheets are warm and soft beneath you, and in their burgundy shadows, his skin glows like porcelain. He lies on his back, his silver eyelashes fanning out below his closed eyes like silk. His crown is a white maze of waves. Just recently you have noticed the faint threads which form around his mouth and eyes when he laughs, slight indents where his eyebrows meet his nose when he is focused. And sometimes, barely perceptible dimples dance on his cheeks.

You never tire of looking at him. There is always something new to see, and you never know how long you have left to see it.

“I can feel you staring at me.” A lazy eye opens and fixes on you. “Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”

There is mischief in his smile, and you return it. You run your fingers over his collarbone. He shifts his chin closer to your hand.

“I can’t help it.”

He stretches, long and languid, a fang peeking out on his lower lip.

“I know, darling.” He turns onto his side to face you. “It’s why you’re here. You can’t get enough of my devastating beauty.”

The words carry no edge. He is still himself, not the masked imitation. He twirls his fingers around a strand of your hair as it caresses your shoulder.

“You are devastatingly beautiful, it’s true.” You play with a curl at his temple, tracing the edge of his ear. You consider for a moment. “But you know, all of that… it only goes so far.”

“Oh?” He regards you quizzically.

“Well…” You turn the thoughts over in your mind. “I’m human, Astarion. Even humans blessed with devasting, soul-crushing beauty, like yours – most of us don’t live that long. We get old and grey. We get wrinkles.”

He scrunches his nose. You laugh.

“I know, disgusting, those wrinkles. But when you have to contend with ageing, and with death… it’s different.”

You are not sure he understands what you are saying. You yourself are not entirely sure.

You nuzzle your nose into his. He slides his arm under your head, circling it around your shoulder. You curl into his chest. There is a silence, but it is so light, like being bathed in morning sun.

Maybe it is because every day draws you closer to the Netherbrain. Or maybe it is because he has shown you where he died, and has shared with you his rebirth. Now, you feel the last bastion inside you can come down. This last pearl you have hidden from him, you can now give, trusting he will not cast it away.

“I had a husband once,” you say.

You have not spoken about him for a long time. It surprises you that it does not hurt anymore to mention him. To remember.

“It was a lifetime ago now. He was beautiful too, when we met. Though nowhere near as beautiful as you.” You brush your lips across Astarion’s skin. “He was smart. He had a way with words. And he was kind.”

You are relieved that Astarion does not say anything. He does not tense in shock or anger. There is no judgment. He only listens, holding you.

“He actually looked a lot like Gale. Sometimes when he speaks, Gale even sounds like him.”

Astarion bristles at this. “So you’re telling me that one of our travelling companions, one of our closest allies and friends, is the spitting image of the love of your life? And you’re telling me this, why?”

You are not entirely surprised by his reaction. And maybe you find it endearing that Astarion could feel even a prickling of jealousy about a man you loved and lost so long ago. You chuckle, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the curve of his jaw. He eases with a huff.

“This isn’t the point of my story.”

“Well, you best get to it soon,” he shoots back, but he does not pull back his embrace.

There is a softness, a playfulness, to his irritation. You nibble his ear lobe gently and he sighs. He waits. You go on.

“He was a lot older than me. When he got sick, I took care of him. He died in his sleep. I laid him to rest. By that point, he was an old man. And he’d lived a good life.”

You remember your husband’s face through a haze. His papery skin, so thin you could tear it by mere touch. Frosted hazel eyes, and snaking veins on hands that you clasped so tightly against your wet face after he had breathed his last. The years of love that had filled the hole he left, buoying you through the grief.

“There’s something about that kind of love. Through age, and sickness, and everything in between. The long and boring days. The petty arguments. The stupid things we joked about. Everything we shared together.”

You heart fills as you speak of him. There is no more sorrow when you think of him now, only gratitude.

“I loved him till the end. That kind of love - it went well beyond his beauty.”

Astarion is quiet and still for a long time. When he moves back to look at you, you cannot read his gaze.

“But I won’t age,” he says. “I won’t die.”

You nod.

“I’ll be like this forever.”

“Forever beautiful, forever young.” You glance at the scars and ripples of your flesh, and you cannot help but feel a pang of envy.

He frowns. In the pause that follows, you wonder where he has gone. You wish he could take you with him.

“How will I know, then?” he asks suddenly.

“Know what?”

“How will I know…” He struggles, as though each word is a heavy load. He clears his throat. “How will I know what kind of love it is?”

There is an emptiness in his eyes now, like a kind of sadness. A loss. You reach out and press your palm to his heart.

“Are you asking me whether I would still love you-“

“If I wasn’t beautiful.” He grimaces. “If I was old and grey, or sick, or…” He trails off briefly. “If I had wrinkles. Like Gale.”

You laugh, and you see that it gives him comfort. Because Astarion still cannot help but mask a plea with a jibe.

“What do you think?” you ask.

He hesitates. His eyes caress your face, drinking in every detail, every line and curve, every shadow and blemish. A balm spreads through you as he sees you, just as you see him, since the very first time you promised to be his mirror. You know he can see your answer.

But he is uncertain, and he is still afraid.

“Without a doubt, Astarion,” you breathe.

He turns away. You wait. It no longer weighs on you when he withdraws. You know now that he will always return. You will give him time, now. You will give him space. He will come back when he is ready.

But then, so abruptly, he clasps you against him. You are enveloped in the coolness of his skin, the warm wetness of his mouth, the blanket of his body around you. The moment is a world in itself, swirling and gathering and expanding, holding you fast.

It ends as it began. You lie there, tracing circles in each other’s souls. Morning has broken, and muffled voices are bustling through the bedroom walls. Slowly, you edge to the side of the bed, and he rises to join you.

“I don’t think he was the love of my life, by the way.” You say it like an afterthought, but it is not.

“I damn well hope not,” he counters, sharp and fast.

But the gentleness in his gaze tells you all you need to know.

---

Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here.

[kechiwrites]

quick study

miguel o'hara x obsessed lab tech!reader

kinktober countdown, day one (spanking).

synopsis: Miguel wanted you to move on because he was weak. Because he'd always been aware he was gonna give in to you eventually, always knew you’d wear him down and he'd take that sweet ass of yours for a ride.

wc: 3.3k

cw: stalker!reader, but like...in a cute way, spanking, (mentions of) drunk sex, oral (male receiving), handjobs, no gendered pronouns, afab!reader, riding, praying, miguel prioritizing getting his nut over his personal safety, reader has a tattoo, my piss poor spanish (used sparingly, i swear, no use of y/n ever.

author's note: i do headcanon miguel as vaguely catholic, and as an ass man, argue with the wall. mdni. special thanks to kitten, kee and ketsl for being my soundboards and spanish tutors.

Miguel’s head is pounding, like he took a brick to the back of the head, twice. 

A fucking heavy brick.

His mouth is dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, the sandpaper sensation making him desperate for water. Light pierces through the parted section of his blackout curtains, forcing the geneticist to screw his eyes shut tight. He turns, ready to slide back into the easy unconsciousness of sleep, when a low moan startles him. Immediately, his entire body tenses, and he shoots an arm out to take hold of the intruder. 

For his troubles, he ends up with a handful of soft, warm skin and an even more drawn out sound of pleasure. It's enough motivation for Miguel to fully open his eyes and take in his surroundings. His wide, scarred hand covers an exposed shoulder, long, powerful fingers pressed to your shoulder blade. He knows that shoulder. Fuck. He knows that fucking tattoo. The spindly, intricate black ink design decorates your back, disappearing under his black blanket. His heart races with panic, thudding in his chest, he doesn't remember a fucking thing, certainly not taking you home to his place after a lab wide staff social with an open bar. Definitely not stripping to his fucking birthday suit and watching you do the same. 

Wait. Okay. Maybe you’re not naked, maybe you’re just topless. 

Miguel shoots a quick prayer to Guadeloupe, lifting and kissing the gold cross that hangs around his neck, before he raises the blanket covering your lower body, praying to see any kind of underwear covering you.

No goddamn dice.

Miguel does not see underwear. Instead, Miguel gets an eyeful of the ass he's been fantasizing about for months. It's perfect, just like he thought it'd be. Soft, perfect and begging to be bitten, spanked, groped. Your tattoo stops right at your tailbone, the pointy arrowhead-esque end tapering off between the twin dimples bracketing your lower back. 

You fucked. There's no way you didn't. There's no way, drunk or sober (and you had both been ridiculously hammered) he would get you to strip down and not sink his teeth into every inch of your body he could get his hands on. He removes his hand from your shoulder, and nearly screams when he unveils a faint half circle decorating the skin where your shoulder becomes your neck. He suspects there's a lot more where those came from. 

You begin to stir, probably jarred from sleep by the sound of Miguel lamenting his own birth. You open your eyes slowly, sleep in the corners of your eyes, squint near identical to Miguel's. You come to a lot slower than Miguel, casting confused glances around the room before your bleary gaze settles on Miguel's face. Your confusion is palpable, like you’re trying to understand where the fuck you are, and why the fuck Miguel is there too. He can almost see when you remember the night before, the social, the drinks, the way you giggled and sighed, drifted after Miguel from room to room in the ritzy hotel bar, where the party had been thrown. 

"Do not say a word." He growls, reaching over the side of his bed to search for a pair of boxers. "This didn't fucking happen. You're gonna wipe this shit from your mind, understand me? Whatever I did, whatever we did? Never happened." He spits. Irritation at his lack of self control heats up his skin, making him want to claw at his face. He can't find his underwear, his fingers only coming across a tiny g-string that you must've shirked. Or maybe Miguel had torn it off you? Or- fuck, he didn't know. He didn't know anything. 

And wasn’t that a trip. 

All that fucking time holding himself back, restraining himself, all for me to blow it over fancy whiskey sours? Nice fucking going, O’Hara. 

"I…I guess you aren't very…happy about it huh?" When you do speak, directly against his order, the pain and embarrassment in your voice are glaringly evident, and they cut through Miguel's wallowing almost immediately. He lifts his face from his hands, and claps both of them onto your shoulders, shaking you a bit, watching your head bobble from side to side while you clutch his blanket to your body, attempting and failing to hide your chest from view.

"Look…I don't fucking remember it." He hisses through his teeth. Your mouth parts in surprise, eyes wide as petri dishes, and he removes his hands like he's been scalded, his palms tingling from the contact. He balls his hands together, till his knuckles crack with the strain, trying to suppress both the urge to touch you again and the urge to hit something. 

It isn't fair. 

Miguel is not fucking stupid. Yes, you are crazy, and a stalker and probably more than a little dangerous. It was painfully, excruciatingly obvious you were obsessed with him, even before you’d formally met. 

Alchemax’s lab technicians rarely have reason to linger, they pick up samples, they drop off samples, occasionally they’ll ask for input on a report or two. But you? You always seemed to just be…around. Loitering on his floor long enough to wave a hello, to ask him if he wanted a coffee or a bagel, to show off your new “lab shoes”. Which, sure, isn’t all that odd on its own, definitely not cause for alarm, maybe you were just friendly, or bored. No, what tipped Miguel off was how you acted when you thought he couldn’t see you; the long stares, the bit lips, the quiet little laughs to yourself, like you were picturing things. Then, he’d caught you stealing his lab coat, snatching it from his locker and pressing the stark, white fabric to your face before shoving it into your bag and scurrying back to your lair home. The security camera that recorded you couldn’t lie. 

And, call him an idiot, he hadn’t reported you. And you’d stepped it up. Started speaking to him directly, cornering him when he was alone, “running into him” after work hours, before work hours, on weekends. Soon, he was seeing you everywhere, dodging your attempts at “quality time”, praying to God you’d realize he’s fucking boring and move on to some other unfortunate victim.

Not because he was afraid. He balances lab hours with bench pressing, and you…definitely don’t. He watched you struggle with jostling snacks out of the faulty vending machine on the 13th floor.

Miguel wanted you to move on because he was weak. Because he'd always been aware he was gonna give in to you eventually, always knew you’d wear him down and he'd take that sweet ass of yours for a ride. Just once, then he'd let you down easy, so you didn't get clingy or assign more meaning to the hookup than there was. He also knew that crazy people gave the best fucking head, the kind of shit that'd make a grown man weep, the kind of head Miguel would consider doing time for.

And he was too fucking drunk to remember it happening.

"Oh! That's okay!" You chirp, dejection quickly forgotten in the wake of Miguel's confession. You drop the blanket along with all modesty, exposing the curve of your tits and the soft jut of your stomach. Every inch of your skin looks velvety to the touch, tailor made to make Miguel salivate. You push back the cover, flipping nimbly onto your hands and knees. Slowly, you crawl towards Miguel, prowling towards him with single minded focus. The temperature of the room skyrockets, and the geneticist's breath stutters at the sight of your breasts sandwiched between your arms, your hips and thighs swaying and shifting while you advance. Your eyes almost glow in the lowlight of his bedroom, catching the sun filtering in and casting them in golden light. Your hair falls forward, sticking to the spit slick surface of your bottom lip. You look like temptation sent straight from hell, a succubus created by the devil with the sole purpose to drag Miguel to the fiery depths by his cock. 

"I remember everything." Your hand falls heavy on his thigh, and he can't help the interested thump in his groin. Your nails scratch his skin, the sensation so feather light, he worries he imagined it.

"Uh…" he stumbles for words, eyes dropping to the hand brushing his inner thigh. He needs to shut this down. Has to shut this down. Sex with you was supposed to be a one time thing, even if his recollection of that one time was lost in the haze of intoxication.

"And I can remind you. I can be so good at reminding you."  You’re whispering, but it doesn't fucking matter. Every word spilling from your bee stung lips thud through his mind like the heavy bass at a nightclub, knocking insistently at his ear drum for access to his brain. He begins to pray for strength in his mind.

"I don't think that's-" You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, leering, hungry eyes following his happy trail before they flick back up to meet his eye playfully.

Dios te salve, María; llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo. 

"You liked it so much. Said you never fucked anyone without a condom before. Said it felt perfect. Said you couldn't go back." 

Yeah, that fucking sounded like him. 

Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús.

"Look-"

You mouth a kiss at his shoulder, a sweet little gesture that turns into you dragging your tongue over the large vein lining the side of his neck. You puff a hot breath against his skin, crowding close enough for you to crush your chest against his, the hard tips of your nipples making themselves evident.

¿Cómo coño va el resto de la oración?

He's lost in the drugging spiral of your eyes, choking on his own tongue when you wrap a firm hand around his cock, squeezing and stroking with graceful finesse. His hips helplessly jerk to follow the movement, chasing the mindless pleasure you provide. He lets his head fall back, Adam's apple bobbing with each dry, laboured swallow. 

"Fuck." He whimpers, fucking whimpers, trying in vain to resist, but when you lowers your mouth and wrap your lips around the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against the crown, he lets go of it all.

And you, you don't miss a step, cementing your hand around the hilt and forcing the entirety of his dick down your throat in one go. Then instead of bobbing up and down like a goddamn normal person, You swallow. Again. And again. And again. Milking Miguel for all he's worth, never granting him a second of solace. Your tongue sneaks out, easing the path of his cock, dragging the flexing pink muscle against the spot where his shaft meets his balls. All the while humming and giggling as best you can manage around his length, sending vibrations through his legs to the soles of his feet and back again.

Crazy person. Crazy head. He fucking knew it.

He grits his teeth so hard he's worried they'll shatter, knotting his hand in your hair and grinding your face against his pelvis, fucking your face like it was the last thing he'd ever do. 

And with the way you were sucking him off, it just might be.

"Fuck!" He coughs, banging his free hand against his headboard, "I'm gonna-" he tapers off into a drawn out groan, planting his feet in preparation. Unfortunately, You pick that exact moment to pull off, shocking Miguel with cool air on his spit soaked dick. His cock twitches angrily, the tip near purple with need. 

"W-whuh?" He stammers, his mind racing to keep up with the lightning fast developments between the two of you.

“You can’t come yet! That’s not how it happened.” You sing-song, like you’re teasing him, like this was a cute little game you and him were playing. You swing your leg over his hip so you can straddle him. The light from his window illuminates your side, lighting up your silhouette with warm orange sunbeams. “No, no, no.” Your laugh is the tinkling of glass wind chimes in the entryway of a haunted house. “You came right here.” You pat your abdomen, and Miguel has to bite on his knuckle when he catches your meaning. His eyes drift lower and the scientist is blown away by how visibly wet you are. He tries to reach out, to touch, to feel, but You grab his wrists before he can make contact. 

“We gotta get you to remember, Miguel! I’ll show you.” You push his hands back, until both of his arms are bent and his head is resting on his joined hands. 

“You stay just like that,” you murmur, your eyes liquid pools of molten colour, hooded with desire. “I’ll take care of everything.” It’s all Miguel can do to nod like a fucking idiot when you take hold of his cock again, giving it two or three strokes before you notches his head against the already clenching entrance of your cunt. You begin your descent, shuddering with pleasure and keening loudly, letting air whiz through your teeth when Miguel is only half inside. 

“Ah…wanted this so bad. And now I get it again. Couldn’t think of anything else.” You rock your hips, allowing another inch of Miguel to sink inside your pussy. You continue to speak, tone delirious and euphoric, “So deep already!” You press a finger to your stomach, sinking onto his erection and following his place inside you with the tip of a digit. You both follow his path with your eyes, until he’s fully seated inside. He watches as your eyes roll back into your empty little head, watches you palm your chest and swivel your hips, rubbing your clit against Miguel’s pelvis in time with your teasing hand. From the new vantage point Miguel can see the imprints of his own teeth decorating your legs, a trail of his hunger from the night before.

You rise and fall on him, dropping the weight of your mass onto his hips, gripping his shaft like a vice. Every resounding clap throws Miguel’s mind into disarray. 

He wishes his hands were on your hips. 

He likes keeping his hands behind his head. 

He wishes he could watch your ass shake and roll against him. 

He loves watching your tits bounce with every thrust.

He couldn’t decide what would be better, couldn’t decide how he wanted the image of you riding his cock permanently imprinted in his mind. 

Guess he’d just have to do this again. 

Bummer.

“You know,” you pant, fucking up and down on him, never losing your rhythm, even as you feverishly speak to him. You brace your hands on his shins, forcing your own back to arch, showing off your chest even further. “I think I could get addicted to this.” Your voice is breathy and high, and you laugh out loud, giggling non-stop, expression caught between delight and disbelief. “I-I can’t give this up. I can’t forget, Miguel. I won’t.” 

Madre de Dios, you are a psycho.

You circle your hips again, clenching down on him before letting yourself fall forward, squishing your breasts against him, and grabbing at his face, dipping your tongue between his lips until he kisses you back, tangles his tongue with yours. Miguel’s head spins, your scent, the slide of your damp skin on his, your greedy little cunt throbbing around him, all reduce him to rubble. He bites into your shoulder again, in nearly the exact same spot he had the night prior. Miguel wrenches his hands from their relaxed position, bringing both palms down on your ass, hard. You shriek out loud, tongue lolling out of your mouth, the impact shoving you brutally over the edge.

His dick aches for the same release, jolting and twitching as he takes control, planting his feet again and fucking up into your dripping entrance. He pushes your body up, so he can see all of you. Stare with incredulous, hardcoded lust at your swaying form. Miguel spanks you again and again, on your tits, your ass, your thighs, smacks what he can reach of your belly and grunts when you beg for more, raining down blows on every available inch of skin.

“Miguel!” You cry out, pussy fluttering around him. You try to grab at him, try to maintain your hold, wrapping your hand around the cross on his neck. Later, he’ll be grateful for the necklace’s strong chain, otherwise the childhood gift would’ve been long gone. Miguel wrenches your hand off it, letting you lace your trembling fingers with his. 

Even being fucked like a ragdoll doesn’t stop you from being strange. You eyeball your joined hands, a manic, out of control grin smeared like paint over your face. “O-our hands are k-kissing!” You huff out, bringing your joined palms to your lips and sucking on two of Miguel’s fingers, fucking your mouth with them like you did with his cock.

Strange as hell, but fuck if you didn’t make him moan like a bitch. 

Your pussy clings to him, refusing to let him go, every drag in and out tears at the already frayed fabric of Miguel’s control. 

“I’m gonna-” he repeats, and you cut him off again, though this time, mercifully, you don’t pull away. 

“Inside! Come inside” You demand, words slurred around his fingers. You crash down on him even harder, forcing him so deep he swears the tip of his cock breaches your cervix, and by the way you, his little stalker, bucks and screams when he comes inside you, he’d say it's more than a little likely. Heavy gluts of his seed fill you quickly, painting your insides white in waves.

“Ooooh.” You collapse forward, your cheek pressed to his chest, ear directly above his heart. Your shoulders jostle and shake in the aftermath, body shivering with the last remnants of your orgasms. Miguel feels appropriately drained, as though you’d been drinking directly from his life source, draining his vitality through his dick. Your fingers are still intertwined, and Miguel can’t bring himself to break the connection, staring at the union and squeezing your soft hand in his own brutish palm. 

“You are…fucking persistant.” He mutters, shifting you further up his body but not completely pulling out, allowing for your head to find rest in between his neck and shoulder. 

“Mmm.” you murmur, beyond words. “Sorry.” your voice is raspy, well used, and Miguel can’t help the little surge of pride he feels, remembering your screams.

He snorts and reaches down to grope at your ass and thigh. “You aren’t sorry.”

“Well…no. But!” You lift your face to stare at him, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You can come in me as many times as you want. You can leave me chained to your bed. Oh! Or you could use my-”

“I get it!” Miguel covers your mouth with his hand, exhaustion settling deep in his bones despite waking from sleep not long ago. “Fuck. Just…shut up for now, okay? Can you do that?” He feels your plush lips open against his palm.

“Aht!” He cuts you off before you can disobey, and relaxes in full when you elect to nod, closing your mouth and settling against him again.

“Good. Let’s just be quiet, hm?”

You linger in silence for a while, you, breathing in the scent of Miguel’s skin and Miguel, brushing his fingertips against your spine.

It’s serene, it’s sweet, he can almost pretend you’re normal.

“I give a really great tit job too.”

Almost.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

whew, squeezed it in under the wire. i promise tomorrow's will come earlier.

support city girls with daddy issues and catholic guilt, reblog what you like.

[wh0re43van]

Heart Shaped Box- (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Description: Your childhood best friend surprises you at work with a gift on Valentine’s Day.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none, unfortunately. (Besides weed use)

A/n: I was going to make this a longer fic with smut but I just really wanted to get this posted tonight 😭

Oldies Country tunes and static buzz from the outdated stereo as I restock the candies at the check out. I glance at the wooden analog clock above the exit; 9:00pm

“One more hour,” I sigh to myself as I trudge back to my stool behind the register. Working for my parents at their corner store is nice. It’s slow, I’ve known all of the regulars my whole life, and if I completely flunk out of college; at least I know I have a job. But something about sitting here alone on Valentine’s Day with the smell of stale (possibly mildewed) air and my Ma’s collection of taxidermy squirrels dressed up to look like the seven dwarves doesn’t seem fitting for a 19 year old girl. Especially since my parents went to Dollyworld for valentines day, leaving me completely alone. (Dollyworld is like Disneyland for people in Kentucky)

The rusted bells hanging above the door chime as cool air floods into the small store. I don’t bother looking up until the footsteps stop in front of me. My mood immediately lifts when I see a familiar face

“Hey, man! No date tonight?” I ask my best friend while he slips his lighter into his flannel pocket. I can smell the lingering smoke of a cigarette on his fingers as he reaches for a pack of gum on the display near my head. He flashes his dimples as he leans down onto the counter.

“Eh, it’s a stupid capitalistic holiday,” he shrugs as I reach down to grab him a pack of Newport 100s.

“Mmm okay Casanova,” I laugh as I take his cash. “So did you pick up from that new guy?” I ask excitedly when I remember that he was supposed to have picked up bud from out west.

“Mhm,” Warren smiles as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “That’s why I’m here, nerd. Let’s go spark,” he says as he turns on his heels.

“Warren, I can’t. I still have almost an hour until I can close,” I frown at the boy who’s slowly stepping towards the door.

“Oh, come on. Your folks are out of town, they’ll never know,” he smirks as he rests a hand on the door handle. I bite my lip, looking around the store, then back at Warren.

‘He’s right. I mean it is a holiday, after all, Most places close early on holidays,’ I look at Warren and do my best to fight back a smile. He looks at me with a shit eating grin, knowing I can’t say no to him.

“Give me 5 minutes to lock up,” I giggle as I pull the cash drawer out.

•

•

I closed the store faster (and worse) than I ever have. Within 5 minutes I’m hopping into the passenger seat of Warrens car. The familiar scent of stale smoke hits me in the face as I settle into my seat.

I shake the few snow flakes that found their way into my hair out as I turn all the heat vents towards me.

“Someone oughta’ shoot that groundhog for lying to us,” I joke as I rub my hands together hoping to get some warmth from the friction.

“Here, this will warm you up,” Warren laughs, fighting back a cough as he hands me the joint. His voice comes out raspy as the smoke rolls out of his mouth. I take the paper from his hand that’s cast in a yellow haze from the dim light shining from the side of the store.

As I take a hit from the joint I lean back in the seat before exhaling. The smoke tastes piney and almost a bit floral as it fills my lungs. After coughing so hard that I drool a litttle, my muscles relax almost instantly as the buzz fills my body.

“Damn, this really is good shit,” I laugh with my scratchy voice as I accept the drink warren has offered to me.

“Oh good. I’m glad you like it,” he smiles before twisting around his seat, reaching into the back. As he scrummages around his car, I take another hit.

“Dude, what are you-“I begin to question the boy but he cuts me off.

“Here it is!” He exclaims, before sitting back properly in his seat with a red heart shaped box in one hand and a mixed CD in the other. I quirk an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. “Uh, happy Valentine’s Day, er, whatever,” he says with a small laugh, handing me the box. “I know I said that it’s stupid but, uh, ya know you’re a good friend or some shit,” he mutters with lidded eyes as he sets the red box in my lap. I can’t help but giggle at his awkwardness.

“Oh! Uh, thanks dude! I didn’t know we were doing presents or I would have gotten you something,” I say as I focus my attention on the red box.

“Nah don’t worry about it. Open it,” my best friend nudges me, seemingly very excited about his gift for me. I side eye him before handing him the joint so I can pop the box open.

I Take off the lid to reveal the expected assortment of cheap chocolates, but some of the spots of have been replaced with nugs. I look at Warren with a shocked smile and droopy eyes.

“Wow,” I laugh, trying to think of something to say. The THC in my system makes it a bit difficult to find something genuine to say to this unexpected kind gesture. “You really know what a girl wants,” I nudge him as I pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth. Warren chuckles as he inserts the burnt CD into his stereo.

“Yeah well I got hungry on the ride over here… figured I had to fill the empty spaces with something,” he teases. I laugh as I lay back into my seat. My ears perk up when I hear the intro to ‘November Rain’ by Guns N’ Roses. I lazily turn my head to quirk an eyebrow at Warren who looks almost nervous.

“You hate Guns N’ Roses,” I say with a small, confused smile, awaiting him to offer an explanation as to why he’s playing a band that he constantly complains has ‘sold out’. Warren let’s out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, uh, I do…” he looks away as he scratches the back of his neck. “But this is the song that was playing when the principal chased me around the gym for spiking the punch at our 8th grade dance, remember?” He explains, finally mustering up the courage to meet my eyes at the end. A laugh bubbles up through my chest as the memory comes flooding back to me. Warren had seen some kids do it in a movie, so naturally the 13 year old boy thought it would be brilliant to dump fireball into the fruit punch.

“Oh my god I forgot about that!” I wheeze, laughing so hard at this point that tears are coming from my eyes. “You got suspended for a month because you were convinced that ‘the cinnamon would complement the tropical flavor,’” I shake my head, finally catching my breath after my fit of laughter. As I wipe the tears from my cheeks, I notice Warren just staring at me with a goofy grin. There’s a glint of something in his eyes that I just can’t quite put my finger on… admiration, maybe.

“Yeah I was pretty stupid,” he laughs as he relights the joint. “But don’t forget that while he the principal was chasing me, you laughed so hard you pissed yourself,” Warren challenges as he hands me the spliff. My jaw drops before I slap him on the arm in mock defense.

“Hey I almost pissed myself. A little bit running down your leg doesn’t count,” I laugh as I blow the smoke out, watching it ricochet off the foggy windshield.

“Sure whatever,” Warren playfully rolls his eyes.

The conversation goes silent for a moment and when I look back at Warren, he has a more serious expression on his face. “I, uh, I think about that night a lot. I remember seeing you for the first time with your hair and makeup done, wearing that JCPenny dress that you hated but your mom forced you to wear… I remember thinking how beautiful you looked,” Warren says while he’s laying back in his seat, gazing through bloodshot eyes up at the roof of his car.

“Yeah that dress was the worst,” I say with a light laugh as I take a sip of his water. “I remember watching our moms hold you down and plucking your little unibrow before the dance. You screamed like a little girl and your forehead was red in all the pictures,” I laugh fondly at the memory. Warren scoffs, looking over at me.

“Woah that’s low. I compliment you and you bring up the most scarring moment of my life,” he snickers. “Uhm seriously though,Y/n. I’m, uh, really happy that you’re in my life,” his tone drops to a more serious one again.

‘What the hell is his deal?’ I think to myself in a moment of silence as ‘November rain’ continues to play in the background.

“God this song is long,” I sigh, furrowing my brows. I’ve completely forgotten what we were talking about, my mind clouded over with this extremely strong weed.

Judging by Warren’s huff and shuffle in his seat, I don’t think that he was pleased with my response. Then it clicks. The chocolates, the mixed CD, the heart to heart talk that he’s trying desperately to make work even though I’m stoned out of my mind, the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day.

“Are… are you flirting with me?” I ask, almost positive that that’s what’s happening, but still doubting myself. A large part of me is hoping that I’m right- larger than I’d like to admit.

“I’m fucking trying!” Warren laughs, his cheeks going red. I look at my best friend, seeing the handsome man that he’s growing into. A single moon beam shines from the sunroof, reflecting a sparkle in his ink pool eyes and illuminating his unkempt curls that frame his face. The car is filled with nothing but a long guitar solo as I get lost in my admiration for the boy.  I didn’t notice how uneasy my silence was making him. “But if this is weird for you-“  Warren looks away, awkwardly scratching the stubble on the side of his face.

“Then kiss me,” I say simply, interrupting him. Warren Looks at me as if his eyes are going to pop out of his skull.

“What?” He asks, shaking his head, obviously unsure if he heard me correctly.

“Kiss me,” I shrug, not elaborating anymore. Warren stares at me like a deer in headlights. I roll my eyes, then lean over the console. I place my hand behind his neck, pushing his lips against mine. It’s a small, sweet kiss but it still fills my stomach with butterflies. I pull away, leaving my face just inches from Warrens. He’s still just staring blankly but a small smile creeps onto his face.

“Spencer owes me so much money,” he laughs and then as If a switch flipped, he places his finger under my chin, then goes back in for another kiss. I’m shocked that he takes the lead this time, moving his mouth against mine in a heated exchange.

Warrens hands make their way down to my hips, holding me as if I could slip away at any second.

“Come here,” Warren demands against my lips, his voice laced with lust as he begins to lift me over the center console onto his lap. His tone makes my stomach flip, but I force myself to pull away.

“Warren, I’m extremely into this, but I don’t really want our first time to be in the parking lot of my family’s corner store,” I explain as I catch my breath, resting my hand on his thigh. The disappointment is evident on Warrens face, but he attempts to hide it.

“Yeah, no. I get it,” he laughs, running his hand through his hair. “I can die happy now honestly. I’ve been waiting to kiss you for seven years. I can wait another-” he begins to ramble- something he often does when he’s nervous.

“My parents aren’t home,” I interrupt with a mischievous grin. Warrens eyes widen.

“You mean-“ he asks as if he can’t believe what I just said.

“Yes, dumbass,” I nod my head, biting back a laugh. With that, Warren throws his car in reverse, whipping out of the parking lot as if the cops just pulled up. I attempt to scold him through my eruption of laughter as he jostles me around in the car.

[clearlydiamondz]

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause

Erik!Stevens x Reader

After getting caught kissing Erik while he was in his Santa suit, Erik's and (Y/N)'s son is in complete distraught.

Just to get into the Christmas spirit ya know.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Ma, where is daddy?" her son, EJ replied with his toothbrush in his mouth. (Y/N) and EJ were in his bathroom, getting him ready to go to bed. It was Christmas Eve Eve (December 23rd), and (Y/N) was excited for the Holiday. It was their first Christmas in their newly built home, and she was determined to make it the best Christmas both Erik and EJ had.

The two of them grew up in Foster Care together. Knowing each other since they were 12 years old, they stuck together like glue. Erik was always her protector, damn near almost getting kicked out of their group home when he caused a fight about her.

She was his voice of reason. Her soothing voice and her logical thinking got Erik out of most of the trouble he got into. He always joked that if she was never in his life, he would most likely be in jail.

"Daddy went out to go help out a friend baby," she said moisturizing his hair. "Ooh lord, Ima have to braid this in the morning," she said grabbing his bonnet off the counter and placing it on.

"You don't get to..." he trailed off as she chuckled.

"Don't try and talk me out of it," she said tickling his sides as he giggled. "Alright, go get yourself in bed and I'll be in there in a minute" She started cleaning up around the sink. He nodded jumping off of his step stool and going across the hall to his room.

After she was finished, she walked to his room to see him on his bed, playing with his toy car. "Alright Munchkin.." she grabbed the toy placing it on his nightstand. She turned on his night light before tucking him into the bed.

"Is Christmas tomorrow?" your son asked. He was the most excited for Christmas, obviously. After Halloween, he was already talking about Christmas.

"No baby, it's in two days. So after tomorrow," she told him as he laid down.

"That's so long..." he whined with a pout. Even though he was four years old, it still surprised her how much of Erik's face he took. She didn't see an ounce of herself in him.

"It's literally less than 48 hours."

"I don't know how to tell time yet..." he said making her laugh.

"What I'm saying is that it's not the far baby. You will only have to go to sleep one more time after tonight. Then it's Christmas." she told him. His pouting face widened into a smile as his dimples showed.

"Really? Okay, I gotta go to bed," he said snuggling into his pillow as she chuckled. She stood up from his bed, grabbed his blanket, and pulled it over him. "Goodnight baby, I love you," she said kissing him on the cheek. He grabbed her head giving her a peck on the list before saying,

"I love you too." he yawned closing his eyes. She turned off his lights and shut the door. She walked downstairs grabbing herself a wine glass and a bottle of wine. She walked into the living room sat down and clocked a random true crime documentary on YouTube. She was watching for about an hour when the door opened. She paused it turning around and seeing Erik... in a Santa Costume.

"Hi?" she said in a questioning state with her head tilted.

"Don't ask," he said pointing towards her walking into the living room and sitting next to her. He plot down, and the red suit is opened in the front showing a white tank top with his gold chain.

"I'm tempted though," she said as he sighed.

"Angel called me about a toy drive at the group home on Elm Street." She pouted before saying,

"Why didn't you tell me, I would've gone," she replied as Erik sighed.

"Well it was kind of a last-minute thing, and plus I knew you were getting the house ready for everyone to come over," he said rubbing her thigh. "They were a great group of kids, it was so nice to see them get all happy." he chuckled as she smiled rubbing his cheek.

"I applaud you for doing what you did," she said smiling at him.

"It kinda reminded me of the group home we were at. I freaking hated Christmas." he sighed. She remembered those nights during the Holiday season. Seeing everyone at school with their new clothes and new devices while they had nothing. Not even a family dinner.

"Yeah... it kinda sucked didn't it," she said as he chuckled looking at her. "I'm just glad we turned out alright," he said grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She leaned over placing a kiss on his cheek, then on his lips. He deepened it, trailing his hands behind her neck and pulling her closer. She pulled away smiling at him as he started to kiss her on her neck.

"Is EJ upstairs?" he asked looking behind him at the staircase as she nodded.

"Yeah, he's been sleeping for about an hour." she bit her lip at him as he nodded. He let go of her thigh before leaning back into the sofa. He licked his lips one more time before looking up the stairs one more time.

"Ion knows if I've told you that you look real good today..." She looked down at her nightgown which was Grinch-themed that she found at Walmart. Her hair was already wrapped up in her bonnet and she had star pimple patches on her face.

"Uhh, what?" she chuckled looking down at her outfit once more.

"Come here." he grabbed her hand as she placed the wine glass on the table. She stood up walking in between his legs as he widened them.

"Ya know..." he started off placing his hands underneath her gown, slowly tracing up the inside of her thigh. "Maybe you should sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you want.." he smirked at her. Licking her lips, she placed both of her knees on the side of his thighs as his hands found his way up underneath her dress and gripping her ass. She placed her arms on his shoulders before saying,

"I think I may have a few things in mind.." she trailed off playing with his gold chain. He grabbed the back of her bonnet, pulling it and biting her neck.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

EJ tossed and turned in his bed, but the excitement of Christmas was keeping him awake. He heard what he thought was the TV turning off until he heard his dad talking. He decided to stay in bed until Erik would come in and kiss him goodnight.

But he never came.

Impatient, he threw his blankets off of him, opened his door, and tip-toed down the hall. Going down the steps and looking over the banister, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He saw his mom sitting on Santa Claus's lap and kissing.

He gasped, (Y/N) pulling away and looking around to see where the noise came from. Eyes still wide, EJ ran up the stairs tears in his eyes.

"I'm gonna tell my daddy," he told himself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Erik stop. Stop," she said pulling away from him as he continued the attack on her neck. "I think I just heard EJ.." she said looking behind the couch.

"Come on now, quit acting like you don't want this-" they heard a door slam upstairs as she jumped up. "Oh my god.. EJ, I think I heard him on the stairs," she said standing up and fixing herself.

"I'll go check on him," he said standing up as she stopped him.

"No, you look like Santa Clause. That's just going to ruin it. I'll go check on him." she said turning around before he smacked her ass and grabbed it. He wrapped his other arms around her waist pulling her to his chest and whispered,

"Don't think I'm done with you." she moaned closing her eyes before he let her go. Catching her balance from her knees buckling, she ran up the stairs to see how EJ was doing.

She slowly opened his door to see him facing the wall, lying down with his pillow in his arms. "EJ..." she whispered walking by the bed to see him squeezing his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. "Are you okay beloved?" she whispered bending down. Still no response. Sighing, she grabbed the blankets tucked him in and kissed him on his cheek, and exited the room. She walked down the hall to Erik's and her bedroom, her eyebrows furred in confusion.

"What happened," Erik asked taking off his boots.

"I think EJ saw us downstairs," she whispered to him walking towards the bed.

"I highly doubt it was anything scarring (Y/N). It wasn't like we were actually doing it." he chuckled before standing up and walking into their shared bathroom.

"I mean still... I don't want to expose him to that kind of stuff. He is way too young." she said worriedly.

"We kiss in front of him all the time. I don't think it's bad," he said taking off his white tank top only leaving him in his red Santa suit pants.

"That's different. We were making out, and you were touching me," she said, a slight blush creeping on her face as he smirked at her.

"I can touch you some more if you want," he said grabbing her waist and pulling her closer. She pushed him away,

"I'm serious Erik..." she trailed off as he sighed grabbing her shoulders.

"I don't think it's that serious. If EJ saw something and was bothered by it he'll let us know about it. Like he always does." he comforted her. It was technically true. (Y/N) took pride in her and Erik's parenting, letting him set boundaries for himself and not silencing him when he had questions.

"Yeah... your right." she sighed. "Maybe I'm just overthinking," she told herself before he kissed her on the forehead and then again on her lips. "Now come take a shower with me," he said grabbing her ass as she laughed.

"I already took a shower before you came."

"Well come take one with me.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Erik and (Y/N) close friends came to the house to celebrate Christmas Eve with them. They were enjoying some old R & B music, and having a few drinks and food. EJ was outside with his "cousins", Erik was showing the guys his new gaming room while (Y/N) was in the living room with her friends drinking wine.

"This house is absolutely amazing." Her friend Sasha, gawked at her house as she smiled.

"Thank you. I mean Erik did most of the architectural design," she said looking up at the high ceilings. "But there are still some things we want to add. But we are going to wait until EJ is a little older so he's not bothered by it," she said.

"I bet you and Erik have been all over this place," Jela smirked at her drinking from her wine glass.

"I mean... I can't help it," she said with a giggle. "But I think EJ may have caught us last night," she said.

"Awe that poor baby, y'all need to learn to keep y'all hands off each other," Sasha said hitting her thigh.

"We weren't even doing anything. We were just making out, but he's been acting all strange towards me." she pouted. Usually, EJ and (Y/N) would make breakfast with each other. Today, he didn't want to do it with her. EJ wanted to make breakfast with Erik.

Then when it was time to do his hair, EJ kicked and screamed not wanting her to touch him. Erik had to put a sloppy ponytail on top of his head.

"He'll be fine. He'll forget it by the morning when he sees all those gifts." Jela replied. (Y/N) was about to respond but was cut off with Erik and everyone else coming downstairs.

"Okay Stevens.. that's a nice little setup you up there." Jela's fiance, Jordan replied.

"That's not even the finished product." he chuckled. "Where is EJ?" he looked at his wife as she pointed outside.

"They are outside playing." Right on cue, the kids ran into the living room, EJ jumping into his dad's arms as Erik lifted him up.

"Look at the little man right here." Sasha's boyfriend, Leo asked ticking EJ in Erik's arm as EJ giggled and squirmed. Erik put him down as he ran straight to his auntie Jela. Jela gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before saying,

"Are you excited for Santa to come?" Jela asked. Immediately his face turned into a frown then anger.

"I don't want his fat self to come to my house at all!" he yelled. The outburst caught everyone off guard, but more Erik and (Y/N).

"Beloved, what's wrong?" (Y/N) asked going to rub his back but he smacked her hand away.

"EJ!" she exclaimed. Erik grabbed his hand, pulling him away from Jela.

"EJ, come here." EJ started to cry, and you looked at Erik confusingly. "I don't want to ever catch you putting your hands on your mother you hear me?" Erik chastised him as EJ cried harder.

"I-I saw you!" he screamed at his mom, tears rushing down his face. Being a toddler, of course, he threw tantrums. But this was more than a tantrum. She could really see the hurt in his eyes.

"I saw you kissing Santa Clause last night!" he screamed. Realization started to sink in before Erik covered his mouth trying not to laugh in front of his son. (Y/N)'s reaction was the complete opposite. She was horrified.

"Ayo!" Leo busted out laughing. That really angered EJ because he took a B-line straight to Jordan.

"IT"S NOT FUNNY!" before he could reach to do his attack, (Y/N) stopped him by picking him up. "Let me down! I don't want to talk to you!" he screamed, managing to get out of your grasp and running up the stairs.

"Auntie (Y/N), you know Santa?" Your "niece" Cleo gushed in amusement.

"No sweetie. I don't know that man." she sighed. "I told you he saw us Erik!" she yelled at Erik as he finally let his laugh slip. "It's not funny!" she exclaimed, sounding just like her son. She ran up the stairs after him.

"I knew y'all was freaky but I ain't know y'all was that freaky," Jordan whispered in his ear so that the other kids didn't hear it. Erik laughed before walking up the stairs to see his wife trying to open EJ's door.

"EJ come out here. Let me talk to you," she said twisting the door nob, but it was locked. "Erik can you go downstairs and get the keys," she said still trying to get it open.

"I'm not going nowhere. But he is about to open this door." he walked to the door, her moving out of his way to see what he was going to do.

"EJ, I know you are upset but you know how I feel about locked doors. If I have to use a key to unlock it, it's gonna be me and you." There was a silence before he said,

"I just want to talk to you Daddy," he said at the door. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her forehead.

"Okay.. that's fine," Erik said as (Y/N) looked at him. "Look, I'll talk to him okay. He obviously isn't giving it up." he said. She looked at his door one more time before nodding.

"Okay." he gave her a kiss on the forehead before she left down stairs. "Okay. She's gone." Erik said. He slowly opened the door, Erik looking down and seeing his son's wet and teary face.

"Aww man.." Erik started to feel bad as he picked his son up. "Hey stop crying." he wiped his tears as EJ looked at him.

"Daddy, I went downstairs last night while you were gone, and I saw Ma sitting on Santa's lap and they were kissing.. for like a really long time," he said. Erik sighed sitting on the floor with EJ in his lap. "Why aren't you mad?" he sighed before saying,

"EJ, that wasn't Santa... that was me," he said. EJ's mouth dropped. "No no. I saw him. I saw his hat, and the red coat and everything." he said.

"I know. I was dressed up as Santa," he replied, EJ looking at him confused.

"Wait so Santa isn't real..." he trailed off, tears filling in his eyes.

"No Santa is real... but Santa can't always visit every child. So I help him by visiting them." he lied. "EJ your mom would never do that to me, and I wouldn't do that to her." he comforted him.

"How do you know?"

"Well.. me and your mom when we got married we made promises to each other. And we have trust in each other that we won't break it." Erik explained to him, but the look of confusion was still on his face.

"What's trust?"

"It's like.. it's when you believe in someone, right? So I believe in your mom to not hurt me, and your mom believes in me not to hurt her." he told her. EJ thought of it some more before he slowly nodded.

"Okay... okay it makes sense," he said sniffling.

"You know you are going to have to apologize to your mom right?" Erik said wiping the rest of EJ's tears. "I know you were upset, but you really hurt her feelings. You were being mean to her all this morning."

"I know.." he whispered looking down and playing with his hands. Erik stood up with the boy still in his arms, making his way to their bedroom. He found his wife in the closet looking for something. She looked up seeing him in Erik's arms before Erik stood in front of her. He put EJ down, kneeling next to him.

"EJ got something to say to you," Erik said. She kneeled in front of him before he started speaking.

"Mommy, I'm sorry for hitting and yelling at you," he whispered. "I won't do it again," he said. She pouted looking at him, seeing how guilty he looked. She grabbed him pulling in into a tight hug before kissing him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for apologizing beloved. I just want you to know that I would never do anything like that to your daddy, okay. I love him way too much to do such a thing." she said, moving the strands of hair that were in his face out of his face.

"I know, daddy told me that you guys trust each other," he said smiling as she smiled back.

"Ooh sounds like you learned a new word.." she said, acting surprised.

"I did! I did! A-And I trust you." he said as she smiled at him. Erik stood up grabbed him and placed him on the counter.

"And beloved.. if I ever do something to upset you, me, or your father, don't hesitate to let us know. It's better to talk about it than to just walk around angry, okay?" she told him as he nodded.

"Yeah, big fella.. don't be scared," Erik said tickling him as he laughed, with (Y/N) joining in and tickling him. "Alright, go in the living room with everyone else," Erik said placing him on the ground. He nodded running downstairs.

"We are never doing that again." She said. Erik winced at the statement.

"Well..." he trailed off.

"Erik, what did you do?"

"Well that whole little roleplaying thing last night did a little something.. so I went online and got you something. Well for me." he chuckled. He turned around grabbing an Amazon packet.

"How did you even-"

"Prime Delivery.." he smirked. She opened it to see an elf suit that was extremely explicit.

"C'mon, you know you want to be Santa's slutty helper," he said kissing her neck. She bit her lip but remembered that there was company downstairs

"Fine... but this happens upstairs," she warned him putting it back on the shelf. She turned around to leave,

"No problem!" he yelled after her.

"WITH THE DOOR LOCKED!"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

@life-in-the-slut-house @gloglamsparks @niahsa @hippieonboard @nanii2x @ejs398 @royaler1999 @luvvvjada @sourbabynaee @tthatkidmimi @kanilive @christinabae @nccu-rnc @youcanttouchthis1001 @jordyn-wkndafvr @ts1mp0ne @meeeeep5 @ravynnn-12 @metra873 @determinednot2fall @trippyscotch @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @itsophiebby @princessmel-1995 @blkmystery @xsweetdellzx @ziirowe @cozyashhh @luvvvjada @reneinii @ts1mp0ne @kaireads2020 @blmcd57110 @ziayamikaelson @babbtdollaaassignn @forevermoremagcon @ajenae @etherealluvrr @lynaye1993 @mscarter213 @automaticdragonmugalien @bethy-baby @softleosworld @meekmillsfrenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonakon @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybeee-blog @rbhp @ladymac @musicisme333

[writingoddess1125]

Blip on the Radar pt. 3

Previous <<<

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This was definitely not how Simon saw himself. Sitting in a run down chinese resturant infront of his former one night stand and a toddler ready to fight for some chopped egg rolls.

It felt like a odd episode of the Twilight Zone for him. Simon had been trying to meet you and his child in a far better way, having called the night before to the clinic to ask if you'd be there which they had said no to- So Simon's plan was to go to get flowers, call to ask to meet and go down that road. However the phone number he had was bad so he wanted to see if he could convince someone at your work- which lead him to this awkward interaction...

Thinming about it the flowers he was pretty sure was wilting in his rental car outside-

"So.. Simon right?" You say softly, breaking the awkward tension between you two. He nodded softly, on edge as well but hiding it well with his natural intimidating feature.

"What clued you in to us? Or wanting to meet at all?" You ask, wanting to keep up the conversation as light and open for the father of your child.

"It was the Ancestory you took. Due to my part in the Military they alerted me to you two" He explained looking to Erik once again- the toddler happily munching on his lunch as he blinked those big eyes at him- They were exactly like his mothers...

"That and I wished to see my child" You felt a level of guilt at that, you always assumed that most men would rather not know they had a child in this way- but he seemed genuinely interested and his accent clued you in he had come from far away to do so.

"I understand.. I do apologize you found out in well a unique way" You say softly, chuckling at the oddity of this all and Simon bowing his head also in amusement.

Erik fussed as he reached for more eggrolls, but you giving him the finely chopped Broccoli instead which he looked ready to box you over.

"No Mama" He whined at first and pouted. However Erik's curious gaze fell to the large man staring at him, Erik had been oddly quiet and just observing the masked man in confusion. Simon smirked at this under his mask- he could tell his biy was observing him, Grabbing his fork as he stabbed into his own food taking up some Broccoli to eat himself pulling up his mask just enough to do so-

The child narrowing his eyes as he took a spoon of his own chopped Broccoli and shoved it into his mouth.

"Huh- Usually I have to force him to eat anything green" You mused, impressed that Erik was willingly eating the broccoli. Simon chuckled at this, admiration in his eyes as he stared at his son.

"Oldest trick, they see you eat it they will" He said as he stared at the boy clumsily eating the chopped food infront of him.

"Whats his name?"

"Erik, Erik Wyett (Y/L/N)-"

"Erik hm? Good name.. Little fighter hm?" He hummed, you giving the most deadpan exhausted look possible.

"You have no idea-"

Simon laughed at this, a hearty laugh at that which made Erik stare at the man and giggle. Erik's little dimples showing as he smiled at the man, you couldnt but assume Simon had the same.

"Do you want to hold him?"

After a moment he softly nodded, you standing up from your seat pulling a wiggling Erik with you and handing him to the man. You were hesitant of couse- but that was neither here or there, Sitting back down as you stared at the two.

Erik was staring at Simon confused by the face mask and who was holding him- Simon holding the toddler like he was made of glass, you could see he was unsure of himself now that he was holding the child.

"Hefty Lad, you give you Mum trouble?"

"No No" Erik's little voice said shyly, Making Simon's heart damn near melt. The toddler looking over Simon calmly, reaching his hand to mess with the drawstring of his jumper then to touch the short locks of blonde hair peaking from under the hoodie then finally his mask- reaching to pull it from his face but Simon reached a gentle hand up to wrap around Erik's fist before he ripped it off.

Simon paused at this glancing around calmly like at any moment someone would pop out before taking his free hand and pulling the mask away calmly.

There you and Erik saw his face, you couldn't lie. He was pretty in a rugged way, a crooked thin nose which had clearly been broken and set many times, thin stubble over his square jaw and hints of dimples on his muscular cheeks but it was the thick scars on his face that really took notice. One across his nose and another down the right side of his lip- He was like a well worn boxer.

Simon handing the toddler the mask who looked it over before focusing on his face again. Erik's chubby fingers tracing the scars that stretched across his nose and another over his lip and chin.

"Scary no?" Simon chimed, expecting the toddler to be uncomforble with his scarred face. However he was met with a surprise when Erik patted his scars with the forever sticky toddler hands.

"Boo Boo go away- No hurt?" Erik said softly, trying to rub the 'pain' away from the scars thinking they hurt the soilder. Simon smiled at this, which turned into the two looking in a mirror- Having the same almost Goofy crooked smile along with deep dimples, it just made your heart flutter.

"No hurt Mate, no hurt"

For the rest of your lunchbreak you and Simon agreed to meet up later at your home to talk about child arrangements and more important matters- Simon holding Erik the rest of the time getting him to finish his kunch and crawl over him till Erik fell asleep on his shoulder still clutching the mask in a tight fist.

Stepping out of the resturant Simon a bit reluctantly handed Erik back to you. Clearly wanting to hold the boy forever it seemed-

"Thank you for being so.. accommodating" Simon said calmly, knowing most wouldn't be so interested in something like this- However you smile as you hold your heavy boy.

"It's no problem, I appreciate the effort and how interested you want to be in Erik's life" You say sincerely. Simon felt a fluttering in his chest at your kindness towards them-

"Oh I had these for you" He said softly before going into the rented car and pulling out a bouquet of absolutely devastated Peonies and Lilies.

Simon mentally slapped himself as he held the clearly almpst dead flowers- He felt like a awkward teenager again. However you giggled at this and gently took the flowers from his hand, smiling at the sweet gesture.

"Thank you, That's really sweet Simon" He gave another smile which made your heart flutter, however your phone chimed snapping you back to reality.

Exchanging quick goodbyes you run back to the Clinic holding Erik who was starting to wake from his nap by the sudden movement. Simon watching you run off as he stood by the car dazed-

Tag List:

@maliemoon @elvyshiarieko @gaida-511 @im-as-mad-as-a-wax-bananna @elvyshiarieko

[loveneversleepss]

TROPE SERIES: Bang Chan

Mama's boy/royalty pt.3

Pairing: childhood friend!Chan x female reader (reader has assigned name). 

Trope: second chance, childhood love

Warnings: cursing, jealousy, slight angst, bullying, smut duh, unprotected sex (srry), oral sex, nicknames, blood and death. 

w.c: 10 k

Has anyone told you to not trust boys? You learned that the hard way. You fell in love with one.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was all so innocent, simply a friendship in the beginning. That’s where you made the mistake, becoming friends with him. 

~~~~

It was the first day of kindergarten, everything felt so new. You stood at the front of the gates, hand in hand with your father. You turned to him nervously, biting the inner corner of your cheek. He smiled reassuringly at you and squeezed your little hand. “It will be alright, you got this. Keep your head up.” He handed you your lunch pail and pinched your cheek teasingly, it hurt but in a way it helped you. Helped you to muster up the courage to march into the gates and begin a new start. 

But as soon as you stepped near your class, you were pushed over. Your hands scraped across the pavement and you scrunched up your nose in pain. “Oops.” you turned your head to see the culprit, a boy laughing with his group of friends. He reached out his hand for you to grab and you hesitated. “Not gonna take it? Fine.” He kicked your lunch pail away, the food trampling out. He tugged on your pigtail, hard and pushed you over on your back. “From now on, I will make your life a living hell.” He licked the palm of his hand and smeared it across your face. You laid frozen as he walked away, tears flowing in your eyes. 

“Are you okay?” A brown haired boy came running to you, he kneeled down next to you. He stuck out his hand, but you didn’t hesitate to take it. “Don’t cry,” he wiped a tear off your cheek. You stared at his reassuring look, his soft dimples really popped out to you. “Come on, let’s tell the teacher.” He held you the whole way, spoke for you about what happened when you couldn’t speak up. But what they said next, ruined you.

“Oh, he’s just a boy.” you were stunned. It felt wrong. Why would they dismiss it just like that? Just because he’s a boy? Because you did something to make him do it? No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything for him to do that, for him to touch you in that way. He practically walked away with a slap on the wrist. 

“I'm sorry about that,” the boy apologized to you. He held out a piece of licorice to see if it would make you feel better. “Why are you sorry? You weren’t the one who hurt me,” you took it and snapped off a piece with your mouth. He sighed heavily, “I just wish I could’ve done more to help.” You patted his back, “you did help, you saved me.” He smiled brightly at you, which made you smile. “Anyways, I’m Chan.” you cleared your throat, “I’m Vanessa.” He frowned and tilted his head, “I think I’ll call you Nessa instead.” You giggled, no one’s ever called you that before. He wrapped his pinky around his, “as long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.” you wanted to believe it, so you did.

Although it didn’t get better. You dreaded each day of elementary school, you were constantly bullied by that boy. Theo was his name. Chan tried his best to save you. You appreciated him so much. He was the light at the end of the cold, dark tunnel. But remember that teacher? You found out that was his mother. She always seemed to have something against you. Even though they lived next door, you weren't allowed over. But he always came to yours.

Chan had invited you over for a playdate once for the first time. Which ended up being your last. You were eating cookies on his bedroom floor when she stormed in. She snatched the cookie from your hand and demanded you go home. She said, “you’re damaged goods.” Which at the time you didn’t know what she meant. But now you realized she was talking about that incident. But, there was a time where Chan and you didn’t talk.

~~

“Chan!” You ran over to him, your backpack flinging side to side with your movements. “Look what I got you~” You said in a singsong voice and pulled out a cup that had Spider-Man on it. You expected him to be beaming with joy, but he wasn’t. He stared at it with no expression and then changed his gaze to the side. “I can’t talk to you anymore.” Your hands dropped to your side, cup in hand and your face frowned. “Why?” His eyes flickered behind you, and you turned to see his mom standing with her arms crossed, glaring at you. You turned back around to look at him, he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry Nessa.” He walked to his mom and she patted his head and pushed him in front of her, leaving you alone with the cup.

After that, everything got worse. You were bullied even worse, and you still held onto hope that one day, Chan would come to your rescue. But it faded as you were kicked and slapped by those boys. Your worst nightmare, provided by Theo, came true. “You’re pathetic!” Kick. “No one wants to be your friend.” Spit. “Not even Chan. Your true love!” He laughed and mocked you. You guess you blacked out once you felt a blow to your head. You felt yourself wake up, but your eyes did not open, but you were aware of your body. “Please be okay,” you heard a sob and recognized the voice. Chan. His arms were around yours, holding you tight. 

“Will she be okay?” you heard a male voice and didn’t recognize it. “Move aside, let me help her.” He let go of you and your eyes fluttered open. You gasped hard at the stranger in front of you. You screamed, “stay away!” You crawled away and cradled yourself . “Nessa, it’s okay. It’s just your dad.” you stared at him in disbelief. “What do you want?” His dad sighed and approached cautiously, “we’re just gonna dress your wounds.” 

~

He walked you home after, holding you up. How the heck are you gonna explain what happened to your parents? “What am I gonna say to them?” Chan shook his head, he had no idea either. “I had no idea what to do earlier. your dad is a doctor and I didn’t know who else to call for help.” You broke away from his hold. “You don’t have to tell me anything.” You began to walk on your own up the driveway when he stopped you. “I still wanna be friends with you.” you stopped in your tracks and looked at him with disgust. “Why now?” He rocked himself back and forth while keeping his head down, “I didn’t know what to do. I always listen to your mom.” you rolled your eyes and scoffed, and was about to say a smart remark but he beat you to it. “But I don’t want to anymore. All you want, more than anything, is to be your friend.” 

He picked up his head and his pinky rose. “I swear to be your friend, now and forever.” It was cheesy and made you cringe, but also made you smile. You walked over and entangled yours with his. “Friends.” You felt a sudden urge to kiss his cheek, so you leaned forward and tried to peck his cheek. But he turned suddenly and your lips pushed into his. Your first kiss. You jumped back and then you heard the door open, your parents gasp. Right. Now to explain the cuts. They ran to you and cautiously examined me. You simply told them, “I had a little spar with a girl.” They stared at each other and chose to believe you. They led you back inside and before you entered your house, you made sure to wake Chan goodbye. He waved back with a silly grin and you knew everything would go back to normal. 

~~

But it didn’t, after a short 6 years. He moved away to Korea, and the only life you knew was gone. “I don’t want you to go!” You cried in his arms, begging him. You were shaking and holding onto him with the hope of convincing him. “I have to Nessa,” you shook your head no and sobbed. “My mom insists I have to go. Please understand,” he holds onto you equally hard as you. You look up at him, his dimples as prominent as ever. “I’ll be back by the time we go to highschool, I promise.” He held his pinky out to me, and you tied yours around his. “You better.”

You had a very hard time during those years. The bullying didn’t stop until something happened. Surprisingly Theo left you alone. His goons didn’t but he didn’t engage in any action towards you. But you remember a day, you had come home with bruises from them. It was your 7th grade year. He had watched and stood away from engaging. After they were done with you, he stayed standing above you. You were crying and holding your wounds, you glared at him. “What did you ever do to you?!” You trembled as he stepped towards you. “Why do I deserve this?” He tried to reach out for you but you backed away in fear. “I’m sorry, we’ll leave you alone.” He kept his word, he left you alone and so did his friends from ever uttering your name again. 

When you came home, your parents were furious. They had a huge fight, saying things like, “this is all your fault our daughter is like this!” “You don’t know what I’ve been doing for her!” You walked away and waited outside for the arguing to stop. You sat on the grass and watched the sunset, your favorite thing to do since you were a child with Chan. But he’s gone now. Because of his mom. You checked your messages, and he texted you a few minutes ago. 

Me                  2:05pm

Have you made friends yet?

Channie<3            2:36pm

Yeah, I have

There’s this one girl who sat by me in class today. 

She's really nice and gave you half of her lunch since I love triangle kimbap :)

She asked me to hangout after school tmrw

You stared at the message and had this terrible feeling grow in your heart. You felt as if you were going to throw up. You clocked your phone off and clenched it, a girl huh? Will she be your replacement? You can’t think like that. You’ll answer him later. 

“Nessa!” you shuddered at the name. No one’s called you that since he did. You turned to see Chan’s mom, Celeste, calling you over. Your heart dropped and your fists clenched as you faked a smile. She took it as an invitation to come over to you. “Oh my! What happened to you!” You have no idea how much you hate this woman. She sighed heavily, “I wanted to apologize for your past mistakes..” you stood confused, she wants to apologize? “I never should’ve treated you that way and you want to make it up to you.” you sighed, listening to her. Her head tilts to the side and she looks around, “Why don’t you come inside?” That was the last place you wanted to be. You hear a glass shatter from inside your house and close your eyes at the thought. But you needed someone. You needed to be anyplace that could get your mind off things. You nod your head and follow her.

~

She motions for you to sit at the chair in front of her. You sit reluctantly and she sits across from you. “Are you having problems at school, Nessa?” You rolled your eyes, “are you trying to play the concerned neighbor? What exactly do you want?” She laughed to herself and set her cupped hands on the table. “You’re smart, you knew I had a motive.” You nod your head and shoot her a glare saying ‘get on with it.’ “I have this side gig now, it will train you physically to be a so-called bounty hunter. It pays good money and I think it would help with your situation.” You bit your bottom lip, this would lead you to beat people up and one day. Have to kill someone for money. She reaches for your hand on the table, “you don’t have to make a decision now. I’m asking for a lot.” You clench your hand under hers. “Will you promise not to force you to do anything you won’t want to?” She sits back and thinks for a while, then she says, “deal. I won’t force anything on you.” 

I paused, “I don’t think it would be good for me.” she frowned and clicked her tongue. “I know Chan would’ve liked that we get along. This could’ve been our chance..” she sighed and sat back in her chair. You fidgeted and thought, then came to a conclusion. “Fine, I’ll do it.” She gave you the details, you would meet up at her house after school and she would take you to a training place. You described it to your parents as tutoring since she was a teacher and you needed extra help. It was all a lie. You tried to keep in contact with Chan afterwards. But after you found out news about the new girl, you didn’t want to talk to him. 

Me                      6:56pm

Ugh I’m so tired from today.

Channie                9:17pm

Were you working out?

Me                      9:20pm

Something like that

How’s Korea going?

Channie                9:24pm

Omg I totally forgot to tell you!

Me                      9:27pm

Tell me

??

Channie                9:33

I started dating that girl, yk the one who shared her lunch with me

Anyways you found out we have a lot in common

Her name’s soojin 

Read

You decided not to answer him. The news shattered me. You cried for days in secret. You trained at your hardest and used that pain to get you through everything. Fuck him. 

The training was extreme; One day, you felt your emotions really hard. “Harder!” She yelled and you kicked with force. “Harder!” you kicked one again with more force. “Harder Nessa!” you kicked your hardest and began panting. She got in your face and started to scream, “that’s what you call a kick? How pathetic, you’re better than this!”

“I’m trying ma’am.” She scoffed and laughed as if you told a hilarious joke. “You’re not trying hard enough.. you’re weak! An embarrassment if you ever think that’ll be good enough!” You took the words to heart. You shook your head as tears began to pile up. “I am good enough-“ She pushed you back a little, “no you’re not!” your anxiety and fear turned into anger. It began to build. “My son would never want anyone like you!” You screamed and kicked with full force, the bag broke off the hook and landed on the floor. The spot where you kicked, broken in and fabric falling out. 

You breathed heavily and she applauded, “see what happens when you use your emotions? You get better. No need to be afraid of them.” That was the first lesson she taught me. The next training for years was learning to fight, flexibility training, weapons mastery, and horrible endurance training. Putting you under water for minutes to build up your breath-holding skills, running in rain and heat, learning to take hits, and the most important lesson. Loyalty training which had you under torturing mechanisms.

The training definitely helped you defend yourself better. It also grew your confidence and helped you establish yourself. You were a high performing student, having the best grades and always having an honor roll. You grew into your looks and explored styles and makeup. Perfecting it during those three years. You realized you had truly evolved at one of your training sessions. 

Chan’s mom, Celeste always admired you after you excelled. “Perfect, Nessa. You’ve really turned into a prodigy.” And always after that, she would slither off into meetings. You felt real progress and extreme satisfaction with yourself. You had grown really close to Celeste as after training she would take you out. You were the daughter she never had. At dinner you had asked her about Chan. She frowned, “I can’t say anything about his situation since he’s in Korea but.. You can say you don’t approve of this supposed relationship of his.” You choked on your soda. You cleared your throat and smiled, “you know about it?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “of course I do. You know everything. But when he comes back and still with said girlfriend. It won’t last, trust me.” 

You giggled, knowing that she doesn’t approve. Because you know she’ll do everything in her power to ensure it. He’s a mama's boy, he’ll do anything she says. You were assigned your first job, in eighth grade. To find and capture a man, no one would suspect a child like you to do it. But you successfully did, and you became one of the best bounty hunters she had. And the youngest. your jobs would be easy, you would always get them done like nothing. But you realized outside of doing this job. You had nobody. You expressed your feelings to Celeste. She understood you and never made you feel that you didn’t matter. The next day, you came to find a boy standing in your training spot. You recognized him, he was Chan’s friend when you weren’t talking. The ray of sunshine. What would he be doing here?

Celeste called you to her and the boy turned to you, “Felix this is Nessa. Your mentor.” you looked at her in disbelief. Mentor? He smiled brightly at you, practically blinding you. “Hi,” he said and you smiled back at him awkwardly. You nodded your head and Celeste grinned, “you will be working together from now on. So, best get to know each other.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looks like she intended for him to be with you, so you’re no longer lonely. She walked away and patted your back. He smiled awaiting your attention. “First thing, you’re gonna have to get rid of that smile.” He frowned immediately, “wouldn’t it be more convincing that I was good?” You shook your head, “you’re trying to go unnoticed, not show off your charisma.” 

“So you think I have charisma?” You ignored him and led him to the mat. “Come on, show you what you got.” He stood confused and uncomfortable. “You want me to fight you? But you’re a girl.” You smirked and charged at him, dropping down and sliding against the floor, hooking his leg and down he went. He slammed against the mat with a groan and gripped his shoulder. “First lesson, it doesn’t matter who your target is. You get the job done.” He jumped up and assumed a fighting stance. You adjusted his arms, “sloppy.” You brought them up and gave it a stern shake, “this needs to be strong. The basics need to be laid down correctly or you will practice it wrong.” 

He looked fondly into your eyes, which made you freeze. “Chan was an idiot to leave you.” you dropped down again and swiped his leg. But this time he didn’t budge and dodged you. He smirked and brought you up by your chin, “I won’t make the same mistake.” you shoved him off, “No more talking from you.” He sighed and crossed his arms, trying to flex them. “You know, I do taekwondo.” you tilted your head and scoffed, “but still you got dropped down by me.” His tongue rolled between his bottom teeth and lips then it grew into a smile. This was the beginning of a great friendship. 

~~

Once highschool came around, you were no longer that shaken little girl. You knew exactly who you were and no one could stop you. You got up that morning with a pep in your step which sounds corny, you know. But you were truly happy with yourself . You curled your hair, put on a full face of makeup and a streetwear fit. You kissed your mom good-bye as your dad wanted to drive you to school. It’s his own tradition to drive you on your first-days. “Looks like someone is moving in next door.” You looked over at what was Chan’s house. You saw a moving van outside and shrugged it off, not thinking about it again on the way to school. Once you pulled up, he gave you that reassuring pinch on your cheek and told me, “keep your head up sweetie.”

And you did, until you saw him. 

He was facing away from you, chatting to a group of people whose faces were full of amazement. Figures. He was always the joy of the group. You didn’t recognize him at first, until he turned his head slightly. Those soft dimples you know out of anywhere. You froze in your spot as you stared at him. But you were interrupted when you noticed stares at you. Whispering and pointing at me. “Who’s she?” “She’s gorgeous?” “Is she new?” You realized, they weren’t judging you. They were admiring you. 

“Vanessa?” Your name was called from the group talking to Chan. He turned and his mouth dropped in shock. You realized who called your name was Theo, seriously? You decided maybe you should say hi to Chan, as you were walking. You were blocked by a tall boy. “Excuse me, you think you’re really pretty. Could you have your number?” you laughed slightly in shock and looked at his phone. “I don’t have a phone.” He smiled at you awkwardly and walked away. Barf. You looked back at Chan who had a look you’ve never seen on his face before. 

He looks so different. His hair is dyed blond and his skin is so white now. Nothing like the younger him you knew. Then again, you don’t look the same either. You see Felix waving to you in the distance and you brighten up. You begin walking to him, Theo tries to walk up to you but you walk the opposite direction and flip him off. The group laughs as he stands stunned, watching you walk away. You walked to Felix and he put his arm around you. You looked back at Chan, who was glaring, not at you but Felix. 

~

The rest of the day was boring, zero classes with Felix or Chan. First days are always filled with introduction games or dumb lectures. You sat waiting by a tree, a bench was next to it. Painted by the equality for all club with a rainbow. But you stood standing as you scrolled on your phone, waiting for your dad to pick you up. You texted Felix but he had already gone home and you sat unsatisfied. Just then your dad texted you to walk home due to him being stuck at work. It’s only 2 miles. You heard a bunch of cheering and screaming from a car, a white convertible car with the girl you fought with in middle school. She claimed you wanted her man. 

“Why don’t we like them?” You jumped and turned to see Chan standing next to you. You looked around and stood cautiously away from him. “You were kinda glaring at them,” he took a step forward out of the tree’s shadow, the sun hitting his eyes. Your heart began to speed up, your words were taken away. “It’s just some middle school stuff,” you worded simply and adjusted your bag. He nodded his head and bit the inside of his cheek, “I guess I missed a lot. Didn't I?” You sighed heavily, “you did.” His lips moved to the side and you watched his eyes scan you, head to toe. “Well, I kept my promise. I came back.” You shook your head and bit your bottom lip, “you just came too late. I’d forgotten all about you.” You saw him practically crumble from your words, but you couldn’t care less and tried to leave him there. You had more important things. But he stopped you.

“I know about your relationship with my mom.” You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned to him. “I know you’re working for her… really, Nessa?” You sighed heavily and tried to calm your building anger, “you have no right to judge me. You have no idea what I’ve been through. I did what I did to keep me sane.” You continued to walk and he followed close behind. He didn’t say anything and just followed you. Until you got to the front door of your house. 

Maybe you were too harsh. But what did he expect? That you’d welcome him with open arms and you’d pretend those three long years never happened? No way. Your head wasn't in the right space. “Hey,” you turned around to him standing nearby. “Can I speak my mind and bother you for a second?” You sighed, “you always bother me but go ahead.” He smiled and his hands cupped nervously in his lap. “I felt like our conversation earlier ended badly.” You raised an eyebrow at him, and shook your head. He followed you home for this?

“What did you expect Chan? That I would come back running to you?” He turned his body fully to you, “yes I actually did. I thought we had something.” You stood up fully and your voice was getting louder, “we had a friendship which ended the day your mommy told you to leave.” He scoffed, “I tried to stay connected with you. I called and texted you but you never answered.” You walked away from the porch and vented out to him, “I didn’t want to affect your perfect life over there. I thought you would be better off without me which actually was the truth. I couldn’t tell you anything I was going through because you wouldn’t understand from a thousand miles away! You weren’t here for me! I was alone!”

Tears filled up in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. But they poured down your cheeks. He was about to speak when a voice came from behind you. “Nes?” you turned to see Felix coming out of your house. “Baby, what’s wrong?” One thing, you forgot to mention. 

~~~

It was last month, during the summer. Felix and you were training together, a secret one. It was late at night and no one else was there. We were wrestling and trying moves on each other. A certain move would accidentally drop us both to the ground. We laid laughing as we stayed on the floor. We both grew quiet as we stared into each other's eyes. Our breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling and it seemed time had stopped. your heart was beginning to race, not because of the training, but because of how you felt for him. “I wanna take you out on a date.”He snapped you back into reality and you sat up quickly. 

“What?” you mumbled and he sat up cautiously. He softly took your hand in his, “I really like you Nes.” Nes was the nickname he decided was fit for you. You didn’t mind it. “I want to be with you, if you want that too.” He had grown too as you did. He dyed his hair blond and his skin had lightened but still a perfect tan. His freckles popped out extremely like stars. You looked at your hands, his entangled with mine.. “no.” You declined him because you still had feelings for Chan and you explained that to him. He respected it but started calling you a new nickname, cry baby. For your unrequited love for Chan.

~~~

He looked at Chan then you, he immediately eloped you in his arms to protect you. Which you gladly sobbed into. “I think you need to go, Chan.” But Chan didn’t, he glared at him. “I’m not the problem here.” You tightly gripped Felix’s shirt to not engage. Which he didn’t but Chan continued, “so I go away for a while and you jump onto your best friend? How desperate are you?” You felt Felix’s chest begin to puff up with rage. “You were the idiot to leave her in the first place. I would never treat her the way you did.” Chan stepped closer which caused you to push him back, “back off. You don’t get to do this.” you grabbed Felix’s hand and pushed him inside. 

You turned to Chan. “I can’t believe you..” He muttered and you nearly spat your words at him. “I don’t even know why you're mad. Felix is just my best friend and he’s been here for me. Why can’t you just respect that?” The look in his eyes has returned, hope. But you didn’t stay around to see it. You went inside. You went into your bedroom where you told Felix how you felt about Chan currently, you hate him. He understood you. There was no judgment from him. He trusted you and reminded you that he’s here for you. It made you feel better, your phone began to ring and you saw it was Celeste. “Nessa!” She snapped as you answered the phone. Right, your job. 

She explained exactly what you needed to do and who your target was. But, to do it alone. You hadn’t done one by yourself in a long time, Felix is your partner. You explain to Felix you need to do the job and you leave. Your head wasn’t in the right space. You made a big mistake and you paid the price.

Your target was prepared but you managed to get him trapped on the rooftop. He did not go down without a fight. He was aggressive and knocked you down multiple times. We were near the ledge and you messed up. You kicked him too hard, which he went toppling over the ledge. You had killed the person you were after. The one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do. You had no choice but to run to Celeste. It was pouring but it didn’t bother you. You knocked impatiently at her door. Only for it to be opened by Chan.

“Nessa? What are you doing here?” You pushed past him and yelled out, “Celeste!” She came from the kitchen and you ran to her, hugging her tightly. “I messed up. I messed up really bad!” She ordered Chan upstairs as you cried into her chest. But he wouldn’t budge as you sobbed out what happened to her. “I messed up really bad, I killed him. I don’t ever want to do this again, I’m done with bounty hunting.” You felt her head move towards Chan, she forced you to look up at her. “I’ll take care of it, I’ll protect you. I promise.” She broke the hold to call someone. “Chan, stay with her.” She walked into the other room and you heard hushed yelling from her. 

The feeling began to seep in. “I need to go home,” you spoke aloud. “Yeah, I’ll take you. Come on,” he laid a sweater around your shoulders. He led you by your hand and walked you over to your house. You stopped at your door and reached for the handle. But you paused before opening. “Chan?” He jumped eagerly in your direction, “yes?” You sighed softly, “do you wanna come inside? I don’t wanna be alone.” He stepped closer and smiled softly, “I would love to, whatever you need.”

You led him inside and saw your parents cuddling on the couch. “Hey Chan, it’s been a while!” He smiled and said hello. “We’re just gonna be in my room.” They looked at each other and smirked, “just like old times. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Your dad teased you and you smiled awkwardly. Chan laughed softly to himself as you led him upstairs. You opened the door to your room and left it open. He walked in cautiously, analyzing every part. “It looks the same but so different,” he mumbled to himself. You sat on the edge of your bed and grabbed your computer. “I just have to send something. Sit anywhere you’d like.” You were typing what happened to Felix on an undetectable site and glanced up at Chan. 

He hasn’t sat down but keeps circling the room. He stopped at your photo wall. Partially at photos of you and Felix. You sent the message and closed the app. “The memories, right?” You got up and joined his side. You pointed out a photo of you and him, “we were so tiny.” He smiled and took the pin off, he held the photo close to his face. “This is the only picture you have of us on the wall.” You were silent. It seems he took it to heart about all the pictures of you and Felix. It was nothing personal. He walked over to your desk and sat in your chair. He laid the photo in his lap, “I’m sorry about earlier. You just-“ He sighed heavily, not having the words. So you filled it in for him, “you just thought you would stay by myself. Be lonely for those three years of suffering?.. I had to do something Chan.” 

He got up softly and gently spoke to you, as if you could break at any second. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come back sooner.” You couldn’t speak, you were choked up on your words, surprised as tears built up in your eyes. His face is distraught and his eyes are so compelling, so pitiful. “Why?” He cupped your face with his hands, holding you tight. “Why? I would’ve come back if you just said the words.” You let the tears drip in his hands and looked at him, “I couldn’t…” His eyes scanned your face, awaiting words of relief. “I know you didn’t love me the way I did.” Your words were broken and he shook his head, tears filling up in his eyes. He didn’t respond, just let tears flow down. “I loved you all those years, you couldn’t understand but I did. Truly.” You didn’t give him a chance to speak or respond. You pushed his hands on your face and he tried to get ahold of you again. “Just don’t.” 

He gave up and you turned away, facing your bed. “I think you should go, Chan.” He shook his head, “you said you didn’t want to be alone.” You felt his presence get closer. “I’m okay,” you said unconvincingly. “No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me.” He laid his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged him off. He backed off finally and you reached for your phone. You turned slightly to see him just standing there as you dialed Felix’s number. You brought the phone up to your ear and he answered, “can you come over? I need you.” Once Chan heard those words, his face winced and he walked out. The memories of you saying those words to him once, now turned into you saying it to Felix broke him. Felix showed up 15 minutes later, he held you to sleep with no questions asked. He just did what you needed. 

~~

You went to school the next day reluctantly. You put on your poker face and tried to seem normal. You ran into the boy from the other day. “Hey, you just wanted to let you know there’s a party tomorrow to celebrate the first week of school.” It was already Thursday. You nodded your head in response and he moved on after that. You felt so drained, you don’t think you’ve felt like this in forever. Felix stayed by your side all day but it didn’t make you feel better. You went home feeling so tired. All you wanted was your bed. Until that plan was interrupted. You were laying under the sheets when a hand caressed your arm. “Nessa,” she softly spoke to you. “It’s Celeste. You need to get out of bed sweetie.” You shook your head and stayed under. 

You heard footsteps and assumed she left. But you felt your legs get grabbed and you were pulled off the bed. You launched to the ground with a loud thud and you groaned. “Really, Celeste?” You grumpily got up from the pile of sheets that fell with you and threw it back on your bed. “I tried the nice way but you asked for it.” You stood with your arms crossed. She walked forward and wrapped her arms around you. “I took care of it. Don’t worry about it, mistakes happen.” You took your head off her chest and looked up at her. “I don’t want to be a bounty hunter anymore.” Her expression was emotionless, “I cleaned up your mess but you will not make it again. Understood?” She ignored you once again. You nodded your head in fear. She sighed and sat on your bed. “Maybe all this boy drama is making you hazy. We best take care of that, maybe Felix has to go.” Go? Like, kill him? you know she’s capable of it. 

“What if I stopped being his partner or his friend?” She jittered her bottom jaw and nodded her head, “maybe.” You don’t want to. You don’t want him to get hurt. But you have to do what’s best for him. Because you love him. You called him with the news and tried to be as blunt as possible. He begged and begged you but all you could say was no. You told him one day you would come back to him, but just not now. “Please just wait for me.” You nearly sobbed out loud to him, he was crying his heart out. You had to break away and leave him like that. That was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. He was taken out of being your bounty hunter partner. You were back to being lonely. 

~~

“Hey,” Celeste came up to you the next day after school. When you were reading on the porch. “Why don’t you come to mine for a bit. We should talk.” Your legs moved on their own even though your head was screaming not to go. She sat you down on the kitchen island and dragged a mug of hot chocolate for you. “I’m sorry that stuff ended with Felix but it had to be that way.” You heard a creak from around the corner and looked, nothing… You focused back on her. “We should talk about our work.” There’s absolutely nothing to talk about, you’ve made up your mind and won’t tolerate it anymore. “I meant what I said, I’m done with bounty hunting.” Her phone began to ring and she hurriedly rose, “imma take this in the office, I’ll be back.” Her shoes clicked against the marble floor and you heard the door shut. 

“Nessa,” you jumped in your seat and turned quickly. “Chan, you scared me.” He walked to you and sipped on your hot chocolate which made you frown. “So,” he licked off the frosting from his upper lip. “You and my mom are close, huh?” Luckily, you were prepared for this question. “She just helped me through a hard time, your parents were fighting a lot during middle school. She was my escape.” He sighed, “I really do wish I was there for you.” you laid your hand on his, “don't worry about it.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile which he took. “About what you said, about loving me… just know I loved you too.” Your heart skipped a beat, your childhood love telling you he loved me. 

“And…” His eyes scanned your face for disgust or discomfort but there wasn’t. “I think I'm still in love with you.” He snapped you back into this reality. You can’t believe everything he says. It’s too soon. “Don’t be.” You sighed out loud and got up. “Tell Celeste thanks for coco, imma go home.” You opened his front door but he called out for me. He held out his phone, “I didn’t know if you changed your number or not.” you stared at it, “I didn’t. You made sure I didn’t change it, for you.” His eyebrows lifted up and his mouth moved to speak but you left before he could stop you again. He texted you an hour later.

Chan                6:37pm

Hey

Me                    6:45pm

Hi

Chan                6:48pm

You really didn’t change your number..

Me                    6:52pm

I didn’t 

Chan                6:55pm

I want things to be like they used to be

Me                    6:59pm

Maybe one day 

Read

I decided not to show up at school the next day. Celeste spotted you at home and called you. “And why aren’t you at school?” You sighed heavily and rubbed your forehead. “I didn’t feel like it.” She tsked her tongue and mentions, “Chan keeps mentioning about a big party tonight. You should go. Make friends and try to have fun.” You checked the time, 5:00. Party’s at 8. “Why not?” 

You got ready but decided to style yourself differently. Revealing outfit, short skirt. Host half and down with curls. And jewels highlighting your eyes and some on your skin. Your skin was smooth and you felt beautiful, which you were. It was 7:30 and you put on your heels as the finishing touch. You called an Uber and snuck out. You were about to enter the Uber when you heard your name called, “Nessa!” Chan. Looking handsome as ever. Dressed in all black, his physique showing through a sheer shirt. You nearly fainted at the sight.

His eyes scanned you from head to toe. “Where have you been?” He walked over to you. You had to make an excuse more reasonable than that you weren’t feeling it. “At the doctors.” His eyebrows furrowed and he looked worried, “When? Why?” You sighed, “don’t worry I’m all good. As you can see,” you twirled around for him and he smiled. “I’m going to this party your mom told me about, and said she heard about it from you.” He nodded and licked his lips, “why don’t we go together?” You rocked on it and looked back at the Uber. “Sure.”

You slid all the way to the door and he pulled in next to you. The Uber began to drive since you had given the address prior. Chan peered out the window and would occasionally glance at you, which you caught every time. You felt bold, you laid your legs onto his lap softly. He smiled over to you slightly and laid his hand on your legs. The warmth of his hand was driving you crazy, you wanted him to move his hand lower and lower but he wouldn’t budge. “Do you know anyone going to the party?” You asked and he nodded, “some of my buddies.” You sighed heavily and bit your bottom lip, “I don’t. Felix would go to these things with me but I stopped being friends with him.” 

“Is that so?” There was a glint in his eyes and he tried to cover his rising smile. You knew it made him happy to think Felix wasn’t in the picture but you were still sore from it. You shortly arrived and immediately started to think about why the hell you came. You both exited and his friends came running to him. Patting his back and asking if he wants something to drink. Then they all turned to you. “Chan, who’s this?” One of the boys asked. Chan stuttered to say who you were and answered for him annoyed, “I just gave him a ride. Imma go.” His face dropped slightly as you walked away. You suddenly needed a drink.

The music was loud and deafening. But you searched endlessly for a drink. Finding one in the kitchen. “Uh, I wouldn’t drink that.” A familiar voice said and you looked over your shoulder to see Felix. “Here, let me.” You started relentlessly as he poured you a drink. He handed it to you with a smile. You felt immediately worse and stared at your drink. “What’s wrong?” He pushed your hair back from your face and you sucked in a breath. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He looked hurt that you would even ask that, “because in my heart, you’re still my best friend Nes.” Those words shattered your mind. 

“Do you wanna go talk somewhere private?” He nodded his head yes and you led him away from the crowds. But you had no idea where to go and he pulled you into a room and closed the door. It was definitely more quiet there. You chugged down the drink he gave you and tried to form the words to explain what happened. “I know, Celeste put you up to it.” But he understood without you even saying anything, by simply looking into your eyes. You melted in his sight. “And it’s okay, I forgive you.” You pulled him into a hug and tried to memorize this embrace. To never forget it. “I swear, Lix. I’ll make it up to you.” Your phone began to ring and you pulled away from Felix slightly. 

You looked down to see Chan calling you. You reluctantly answered and sat down on the bed as Felix stayed in the same spot. “Hey I’m kinda busy right now.” He was silent for a few seconds and questioned, “are you with Felix?” You laughed softly as you stared at Felix across from you. “Maybe… I’m having a great time with him. He’s practically begging me to strip.” You joked and Felix laughed softly. His voice turned aggressive and dark, “Don’t piss me off.” You were taken aback by this new version of him. You laughed practically in his face. “Where the fuck are you?” You bit back a laugh, “why don’t you come find me?” 

You hung up and knew it made him angry. But you enjoyed the rush from it, it made you feel powerful that you had this much power over him. But you felt tired. “God these heels are killing me.” You reached to take them off but Felix beat you to it. “Let me,” he kneeled on the ground and took off one shoe. Immediate relief and you threw your head back with a sigh. And then the other came off. Sigh. Bang. Chan. He stormed into the room and pushed Felix to the side. “What the hell, Chan?” Felix said as he got up from the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He pulled you off the bed and held you close, by your waist. He stroked your face and cupped your cheeks as he stared at you. 

“You’re okay? You’re okay right?” He whispered so softly to you, you almost didn’t hear it. “I’m fine Chan, let me go.” You pulled away from him and grabbed your shoes. “God, must you be so jealous? I was just taking off her shoes,” Felix explained. “I’m not jealous. I just was making sure no one was taking advantage of her while she’s drunk.” You put your shoes on as they continued to argue. You were getting tired of this whole situation. “Okay, enough!  Nothing happened… I would like to go home now.” “I’ll take you,” they said in unison. You rolled your eyes and pushed past them both. They called your name out but you needed to get away. Away from them and their jealousy with each other. 

You ran out to the front of the party and saw a man smoking near his car, Theo. You were desperate and a little drunk, you needed to escape. You ran to him, “is this your car?” He blew out a puff and nodded his head, “what’s it to you?” The familiar attitude and tone screeched in your ears, he will never change. You heard your name being called once again, “let’s get out of here.” He smirked and threw his cigarette on the floor, crushing the fire out. You ran over to the passenger side and entered inside, once he entered he turned on the engine and drove away. You looked out the window as Chan and Felix stood watching you leave.

“So, where to?” You sighed heavily and crossed your ankles. “My house, it's on-” He cut you off mid sentence, “yeah, I know where your house is, I toilet-papered it a couple times.” You got enraged as you realized. During the first year of middle school, every month on the 1st, toilet paper would appear thrown around your yard and house. You didn’t assume it was him when you should’ve. “OMG, THAT WAS YOU?!” You yelled and sat back angrily in your chair and he laughed, a genuine laugh. “My bad, I didn’t realize how much of an asshole I was to you back then.” At least he got that right. “It’s in the past, forget it.” 

He rolled up shortly after that and put the car in park. He looked over at you as you stared through the front window. “I really am sorry you know, for everything.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and sighed, “I know. I forgive you.” You opened the car door, “thanks for the ride,” and left. You walked slowly to your room to not wake your parents up. You went into your room and threw off your heels, flopping on your bed. “Nessa,” you jumped up and grabbed your secret knife under your pillow, and held it up to the person. “Chill, it’s just me,” he threw his hands up. “God, Chan. What are you doing here?” You sat up in the bed and he cautiously sat at the edge. “I came to check up on you, make sure we’re okay.” You laid the knife on your bedside table. “Yeah, um, I just needed to get away from all that drama.” 

He laid his hands in his lap neatly, “I'm not proud about all of that. I’m sorry. Give me a second chance to prove myself.” When will you ever stop apologizing to each other? “Don’t apologize just- come here.” You crawled over to him and pulled him down onto his back. He laid still as you laid onto his shoulder and circled his chest. Just like you used to. You felt so warm and safe in his arms, you suddenly remember why you fell for him. And you know you never want to lose him. “Chan?” You whispered softly and he responded, “Hmm?” You love him, you realized. You still do want to be with him. You remember what he said, that he loved you too, and all the nervous butterflies and aching stomach faded. “I love you.” You felt the rise and fall of his chest stop and he froze. He sat up and you were forced to as well.

“You’re still not drunk right?” You laughed and shook your head, “no.-” He pressed his lips against yours suddenly, but you weren’t complaining. His lips were soft against yours and he tasted like pure bliss. He devoured you whole like he was starved. His tongue slipped in and he groaned in content, finally gaining something he craved for so long. He pulled away from you reluctantly, and the way he looked at you, is the way every girl wants to be looked at. “Do you really love me?” You straddled into his lap, his arms were by his side while you adjusted yourself. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned in close to his ear. “Without a doubt,” you began to rock your hips against his length. 

A string of curses left his mouth. His hands stayed by his side, reluctant to touch you without permission. “Say you love me back, Channie.” You slid off of him teasingly. “I love you.” You slid down a strap. “I love you.” Off the shirt went. “I love you.” Off your skirt went. “I love you.” And back onto him you went. His cheeks began to redden. You led his hands onto your body, placing them on your breasts. “You want to fuck me Channie?” He sighed heavily as you rocked your hips again. “Please? Please, please. I promise I’ll be so good to you, baby.” 

You smirked and laughed softly in delight. “I’m all yours baby.” He flipped you on your back. He stepped back to pull his shirt over his head. You admired him, he’s beautiful. A perfect physique and he’s all yours. He yanked at his waist band and you sucked in a breath. You teasingly spread your legs open as you sat on your elbows. “Come on Channie. You’re taking too long.” You licked your fingers and softly stroked against your panties. His eyes turned lustful and full of desire. He pulled his pants down and you saw his bulge peeking through his underwear. He slowly walked over to you and pulled your legs down to the edge of the bed. 

“Let me see your pretty face, hm?” He pushed your hair behind your ears which made you flustered. He hooked a finger into your panties, and pulled it all the way off. You shut your legs and it angered him, “don’t you dare.” He reopened your legs harshly and you have to admit, you like being manhandled. “Take this off, princess.” He motioned to your bra. The nickname sent a wave of emotions over you, easily becoming your favorite thing to be called. You pulled off your bra and threw off the side of the bed. He pushed you down softly and you laid down. He slowly got down to his knees, making eye contact with you the whole time. He stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe up your core.

It instantly hit you, the pleasure of it all and you moaned. He set your legs onto his shoulders and you bit on your bottom lip to stay quiet, after all it is late. He was an expert, skills so advanced you were practically crumbling in his touch. He played with your clit while he stuck his tongue in you all while reaching up to play with your breasts, triple threat. “You’re driving me crazy, so wet.” He mumbled as he got up to kiss your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You have to admit you weren’t prepared for what you saw next. He pulled down his underwear and revealed his long length. 

It was hard and wet with precum. And most of all, big. You looked into his eyes with worry and he reassured you, “don’t worry. I won’t hurt you, baby.” He kissed your cheek and lingered near your head as he slid himself into you. He gripped heavily into the pillows above your head and you winced in pain. “Just try to relax, okay?” You nodded and tried your best to relax your muscles and enjoy. He pushed higher inside of you and you felt almost a cramp in your abdomen. He watched your face intently to see if you weren’t comfortable with him to keep going. 

You wanted to keep going and had to show him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “Come on, weren’t you begging for it?” His eyes turned dark, like he was being challenged and you just gave him the green light. He slid out of you abruptly and tossed you onto your stomach. He positioned you with a pillow and arched your back. “Don’t move, princess,” he whispered into your ear as you felt a sharp pressure fall into you. This position is definitely his favorite as he kneads his palms into your butt. He grunts as he snaps into you, your whimpers drooling into the sheets. Everytime he snaps into you, pleasure erupts across your body and your mind becomes even foggier. 

You nearly got away from him as you crawled forward when he started to go faster, but he held you in place. Pinning your arms behind your back now, your head on the side and you can see out of the corner of your eye on how much he’s enjoying himself. Head thrown back and mouth agape, dangerous sweat beads falling down from his hair and into his neck. Skin glistening and he looks positively in heaven. Your hips push forward as you try to break free of his hold, you feel a tightening in your stomach and your legs begin to shake. “Fuck, fuck,” he said through his teeth as you tightened around him unmercifully. Your body tensed and then released, you finally relaxed and moaned out into the sheets. He pulled out of you and you felt a warm ooze onto your back and you froze.

“Brat!” You said in a hushed tone, “you better clean my back.” He laughed softly to himself and went over to your desk, grabbing a few tissues from a box and coming to clean your back. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

~~~

 

You heard a knocking in your window and you walked over to it. It’s been two weeks since you and Chan got together and he always finds new ways to surprise you. You looked down to see Chan standing below, a couple pebbles in his hands. You opened your window and smiled down at him. “Watch out, imma come up.” You took a step back but watched him still. He climbed and leaped up into the window with a form and technique you’ve seen before. The way he swung and jumped was exactly what you were taught. He sat on the sill and hopped inside as you walked away, unable to look at him. “Are you okay?” 

You were processing everything, you hadn’t responded to Celeste’s call and texted, avoiding her constantly. Felix had come to you with a solution, to stop her, to stop it all. You were working together to unravel her web, not knowing she had a secret spider creating a trap for you. “You’re working for your mom, aren’t you?” He made no noise or any movement. You turned to him, frozen and staring intently at you. “Did she send you to keep an eye on me? Is that the reason why you came back, or why you were so persistent in being around me?” He made no effort to explain or excuse himself, and you were getting tired of awaiting his response.

“Answer me, Chris.” His name. The name you’ll only say when you’re truly angry at him, and he knows that. He sucks in a breath heavily and admits, “yes. That’s why I came back.” Your eyes threatened to prick tears, “everything was fake.” He rushed over to you and tried to take your hands into his but you snatched yourself away. “No, no. It wasn’t, I truly do love you, Nessa.” You raise your voice at him, “it was fake! I gave you a second chance and this is how you treat me?” He just shakes his head no. “Get out of here, before I take you out myself.” He reluctantly walked back and out the window.

~~~

“You’re certain that they’re next target is them?” You say to Felix. “Yes, we know it for sure. Are you sure you want to do this alone? I can go with you.” You shake your head no and hug him. “I’ll be back soon okay?” You left in a hurry and went to the location of the next bounty Celeste selected. You both were successful in the past and took down many of her hunters without her finding out who you were. You were disguised in all back, weapons at your side and a mask concealing your whole head. You peeked around the corner to no one in the alley. How weird. This was the correct point. 

Pain. A sharp blow to your head and you fall to the floor in pain. You looked up to a man standing above you. “Got you,” he said and the voice was muffled, but you recognized who it was anyways. Chan. You were ambushed. He held a gun to your chest but you kicked at his legs which he didn’t expect. This was the time to make no mistakes, it’s life or death. He fought aggressively against you, anticipating your every move and tossing you around. You disarmed him at every chance. You were in a headlock with him until you realized. You reached for your gun in your pocket, to discover it missing and he laughed. One blow. One bullet. You flew back into the ground.

You clutched at your chest, your heart. Trying to stop the bleeding. He held the gun up to you still, “who are you.” You were defeated, and of course it was him who succeeded, he was always your weak spot. Might as well make a show of this. You didn’t budge and he shot again at your shoulder. You screamed and fell onto your knees, he slightly dropped his hold when he heard your screams. You lifted your bloody hand and pulled your mask off. You looked at him with such hatred, such disgust. The irony. Working for his mom, obedient as ever, like he was as a child. You scoffed, “you were always a mama’s boy. Weren’t you?” You smiled as his arms dropped, eyes pooling up with tears. 

“Nothing’s new about that.” Your hand dropped to the floor, carrying your almost failing body. “Why don’t you go ahead and finish the job.” You were already dying, you knew it. You felt nearly seconds away from death. “I’m so sorry, Nessa.” Coward. You fell to the floor and slowly slipped away. 

And this was all because you liked the wrong boy. 

~~~~

The funeral was horrible, everyone dressed in black and words of meaningless comfort. “I’m sorry Felix, we know you loved her.” It wasn’t an open casket, they say her face was cut up and covered in bruises. The shot in her heart and shoulder couldn’t be covered in the dress her mom wanted for her. So they decided to have it closed. To say goodbye to a coffin instead of her. I didn’t stay there long after the casket was put into the ground and buried. I went home. I entered the room, and sat on the bed. Then a shadow emerged in front of the door and a smile came onto my face. I looked up and there she was. My Nes… alive and healthy.

You didn’t think I would let her die again.. Did you? She vowed to be with me again, in another life. Yuna. My Yuna. We’ve reunited again and now no one will harm us. This is our second chance and I wouldn’t let her die again. And Chan? He got what was coming for him…

A/n: happy Mother’s Day 💐

[pinkhoneydrop]

Something About a Birthmark

[ A/N ] - this is the first fic that I have written for Harry I decided to make a new blog to share content on and I’m hoping you all enjoy it. I have lots of ideas, but don’t hesitate to talk to me :) the reader in this blurb is suggested to be black, but I left it pretty vague, so anyone can follow along and enjoy!

EDIT! part 2 is here "From Birthmarks to Pancakes"

[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!

[ Genre ] - Fluff and slightly suggestive at the end

[ Masterlist ]

///

Never could the sunshine look more beautiful than it did when it glistened upon your skin. The sky was clear and the heat was comforting against Harry’s own skin as he sat on the blanket you placed in the grass. You were laying down reading just next to him. The pages flipped in the low wind every so often but you kept a hand on the right side to keep your place. Dark hair covered your neck and went around your shoulders too. Leaning forward Harry lifted the hair away from your face.

“Let me get a good look at you.”

His voice was low as he spoke but you hear him just fine and the words lifted a smile onto your focused face. The grass tucked between the blanket and your bodies shifted around as you giggled. Looking up at Harry through squinting eyes you thought he looked like an angel from down there. His brown curls sat atop his head and his silhouette was illuminated by the sun. Turing to lay on your back you twisted with your head near his lap.

“How am I looking?”

You teased him for his previous statement and smiled cheekily as his hand came to the side of your face. Harry hummed as he looked down at you. Brown skin glowing soft hair and plump lips curved into your cheeks. The necklace he gave you as a gift dancing between your breasts that were covered by the bikini top that you insisted on wearing outside in your back yard. You were so soft to the touch. The shorts you had on exposed your thighs and sat just below your bellybutton. Light brown stretch marks snaked along the sides of the dimpled skin of your belly.

“Perfect darling.” A small smile followed shortly after.

Both you and Harry often wondered what you did to deserve each other. To be so deserving of having a partner who understood what the need to be seen felt like. You didn’t always feel perfect but Harry made sure you knew how he felt about you.

“You know I love you, right?” You always did that. Asked if he knew of your love for him. Harry nodded and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“And you know I love you.”

Sappy. The air around the two of you was soaked in emotion. It had to be. You wouldn’t see him for some time again when he returns to tour. You wanted to know what it would be like to love him everyday not just when you both had time. Eventually that time would come and both you and Harry waited for it with baited breath.

The pair of you relished the comforting silence for a while before Harry laid down next to you. He had on shorts that sat low in his hips almost exposing the tattoos on his hips. You watched him before you said anything more. How the muscles of his torso and back stretched and how he flipped onto his back before covering his eyes with one hand and part of his bare chest with the other.

Harry settled back into the blanket and you found a new place on top of him. Legs in either side of his. Your knees brushed against his sides and it ticked him a bit at first.

“We’ll hello again.” Harry chuckled and placed his hands atop your thighs. His head propped up on a bag you carried snacks outside in. Green eyes looked in yours as you began tracing along his inked skin.

“Would you ever get one that reminded you of me?” You hesitated a little before you asked. Harry looked down at his assortment of art and words that adorned his body. He thought perhaps maybe one day he would.

“Yeah..s’pose.” His eyes returned to you sitting on him. He moved his right hand to your hip and his fingers trailed along your side.

“Hard to forget you though.” Your face grew warm at his statement and you smiled at the man beneath you. After a few seconds you noticed his fingers stopped on your birthmark. The skin was darker and near your navel. Splotched in the shape of what looked to be a love heart. Harry loved it. Ever since he saw it the first time he’s placed kisses atop the dark skin.

“Harry, stop staring at it.” You began to feel embarrassed about his inspection of your birthmark.

“m not staring at you, m admiring you.” Harry spoke with confidence. He enjoyed every inch of you especially this one and he wanted you to know that.

“Now I saw you brought some fruit out here.” Harry questioned so you could get your mind off the embarrassment. It seemed to work. You twisted around and picked up a plastic bowl of mixed fruit. Holding it up you picked out a strawberry and held it up to Harry’s face for him to get a bite.

“Mmm mm you first darling.”

It had to be the way you ate them. How your lips formed around the fruit. Parting slightly so the whites of your teeth peeked slightly before sinking into red flesh. The juice being left on your bottom lip and your pink tongue pulling it back into your mouth. It was on the verge of being obscene. And soon Harry would think of other things for your lips to be puckered around. You took the half wren fruit from your lips and placed it back into his. Opening his mouth Harry let you feed it to him. The subtle sweetness reminded him of you and how you tasted. His mind would soon wander to more, succulent places but for now he just wanted to lay here with you as you fed him strawberries.

[atiny-piratequeen]

𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑊𝑎𝑦 𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐶𝘩.𝟹 (𝟸/𝟸)

𓆩⟡𓆪Summary: Wooyoung is a culinary student and he and two of his best friends have been brought along to Namhae to learn and study the farmers out in the countryside and disconnect a bit. Reluctant at first, he just wishes he could’ve been back in the city and close to his long-time crush Yeosang. Things change when he lays his eyes on the dimpled country boy staying with them that show them around and teach them more about Namhae’s way of life, all with a spine-tingling Satoori.

Maybe things aren’t so bad out here in the sticks, after all.

𓆩⟡𓆪Pairing: WooSan + Endgame WooSanSang

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Non-Idolverse, Fluff, Romance, Humor, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fish Out Of Water Tropes, Au, Mutual Pining, Country Boy San, Culinary Student Wooyoung, Poly Endgame

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing, Miscommunications, Jealousy, Mentions of Homophobia, Light Instances of Unwanted Advances (from non mcs)

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: Wet Dreams, Threesomes, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Risky Sex, Biting, Scenting, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Creampie, Cock Sharing, Dirty Talk, Bareback Sex, Riding, Doggystyle, Cum Swallowing

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 16+k

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: This is the final part of  @schone-lie’s commission! Thank you so much my dear! We're not gonna talk about how long it took me to post this, please remember to like AND reblog if you enjoyed, and have a great timezone!

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld | @kdiarynet | @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     3pm

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“So…”

San blushed, looking over as Wooyoung emerged from working on their costumes. He could tell from the way Wooyoung’s sentence trailed off, he probably wanted to attempt having that aforementioned talk. 

“So…” San parakeeted back, cheeks darkening at the way Wooyoung arched a single brow at him. 

“‘So fucking pretty for us?’ I don’t think I’ve seen you with such a feral look in your eyes before.”

San let out an inhuman squeak and looked away after an unintelligible jumble fell from his mouth. 

“Is that how we’re really going to lead this conversation off?”

Wooyoung’s eyebrow inched higher and San covered his face. 

“I just…I think he’s neat.”

“...pfft.”

“WOOYOUNG!”

“I’m sorry! It was cute!”

San covered his face, absolutely flustered while Wooyoung snickered behind his hand, though he couldn’t deny the flutter in his chest as he teased his boyfriend. 

“He’s…really nice to be around. In this quiet, kind of mysterious way. I’ve never met anyone like him before. So…I get it. I get why you like-or, rather, why you love him. At least, I see a bit of it. I think he’s walking a bit cautiously around me because we’re together.”  He mused. Wooyoung hummed and nodded, his cheeks rose tinted. 

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

The two stood in a flustered silence. 

So they both liked him. Cool. 

Now what?

Neither seemed to have the answer, if the long stretch of silence was anything to go by. Just because they liked him didn’t mean the three of them would run off into the sunset. Yeosang didn’t feel romantically for either of them. 

Right?

Clearly the long stretch of silence had become unbearable, and San was the first to break it, clearing his throat. 

“How about we go check out the pop up shop near Yeji’s book store? We passed it yesterday and it looked like it had some cute things inside.” 

Wooyoung perked, smiling as he turned on his heel, disappearing down the hall shouting about wearing ‘couple’s outfits.’

San let out a small exhale and headed down the hall, a small smile tugging at his lips.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

          x

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“With this limited edition plushie, you’ll be entered in a raffle for-”

“If you buy all of the albums, you have a higher chance at getting your bias and-”

“Wait, let’s open them here and then we can trade-”

The duo walked through the pop up shop, the idle chatter and murmur of the room melting into the background as they admired their surroundings. 

It ended up being for some boy group, and while San wasn’t sure who they were, he did appreciate the artistry that went into the popup. Apparently they had a comeback of some sort approaching and some of the pieces on display beyond the glass cases had been hand made by the leader of the group. 

San stopped in front of a posted with all of the men on it, looking up. Wooyoung kept his arm looped in his, putting his chin on San’s shoulder and looking up with him. 

“Do you know them?” San inquired. Wooyoung made a sound of confirmation behind him, hugging him to his chest. The move made San glance back shyly, though he didn’t try to shift out of his grip. 

“I actually designed our halloween fits after one of their comebacks.” He murmured, head cocked to the side. San’s lips parted as he looked up, seeing some of them wearing crop tops and leather pants, while others were decked out in pants that hugged every curve of their lower regions. 

“Is that so?” he inquired. He could feel the way Wooyoung’s lips curved up in delight at the cautious edge in his tone. 

“Wooyoung, I don’t know if I can pull off somethin’ all fancy like that-”

Wooyoung looked at him like he’d grown a second head, narrowing his eyes for a moment to see if San was playing. When he saw that he wasn’t-as evidenced by the tiny, innocent blink he was met with-Wooyoung let out a small exhale through his nose. 

“Boy, what the hell-” He shook his head and grabbed San’s shoulders, tugging him over to a mirror. 

“You are the most attractive person to ever walk out of Namhae, look at you.” He cupped San’s jaw as he stood beside him, turning the older man’s face until he made eye contact with his own reflection. 

“You can easily pass as an idol yourself. You can sing, you have a soothing smile, and you’re literally my happy vitamin.” He smiled and kissed his cheek before pulling him away, lacing their hands together as they exited the pop up. 

San wasn’t sure if his feet were actually carrying him, or if he was floating at this point. He wanted to know where Wooyoung learned to be so…smooth with his words. 

As they left the pop up, they watched a pair of young women leave the book store, giggling amongst themselves about the ‘hot man’ being back again. The two exchanged a look before glancing through the window. 

There, with an apron tied around his waist, was Yeosang, his hair a fluffed lion’s mane around his head and his eyes holding a distinctly soft look in them as he sat down in a half circle, reading something from a picture book to a small group of kids, all while Yunho sat at his side, occasionally ducking his head down to let a child pet him. 

Before they realized, the two of them slowed to a stop, staring through the window at Yeosang. 

“He has a nice smile, doesn’t he?” San murmured, the chill of the autumn air making him press a bit closer to Wooyoung. He let out a soft laugh, nodding. 

“He always used to do that when he wasn’t training. Smiled in this soft, air headed way that made his cheeks bulge like…a cute little hamster.” he laughed to himself and San felt his own smile falling a bit. 

Again, his mouth worked a bit faster than his brain. 

“When did that change?”

Wooyoung looked at him, pursing his lips for a moment before he looked at the ground. 

“Before I left for Namhae. He didn’t tell me if anything had gone awry at home. I offered for him to come with me to Namhae, but he declined and ever since I’ve gotten back there’s been this…air around him.” He sighed. San rubbed his back and kissed his temple. 

“Well, let’s give him something to smile about. The Halloween party is a good place to start, yeah? It’s not my place to pry into his life, especially since he’s only known me for only but so long, but I can certainly get someone to crack a smile. That’s the first step to healin’, right? A good smile and a laugh?” He inquired. Wooyoung smiled and stole a kiss from his lips, grabbing his arm and guiding him down the block. 

“My boyfriend’s got the biggest, sexiest brain, I swear~”

San rolled his eyes playfully and let Wooyoung drag him down the block so they could grab ingredients for dinner. 

Neither noticed Yeosang glance up from the circle of kids he was sitting in, his brow furrowing as he watched their backs disappear down the block. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     October 31st

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Holy shit, your hair.”

Yeosang blushed and paused, his hair bleached and dyed to be platinum blonde. San let him in and looked at him, lips parted. 

“It’s so…fluffy.” 

His own hair was back to black, with a pattern shaved into the back of his fresh undercut that looked like moon phases.

Yeosang shifted from foot to foot slightly as he slipped into a pair of house slippers. San was looking at him like he’d seen people look at Yunho’s head. 

‘Does he want…to pet me?’

Before Yeosang could say anything, Wooyoung appeared behind San, his hair a brilliant shade red as he let out a loud, fox-like yip that startled San and made him jump nearly a foot in the air. 

“Hehehe! Happy Halloween, boys! Oh wow, that color looks even better on you than I had in my head.” Wooyoung paused, looking at Yeosang with eyes full of admiration. 

Yeosang found himself bowing his head without a second thought, humming as Wooyoung stepped in front of him, running his hands through his hair and grinning. 

“You used the conditioner I recommended.”

“I don’t know if you know, but you tend to be a diva if I don’t go along with your schemes.”

Wooyoung gasped and paused, his fingers tangled in Yeosang’s locks as he looked him in the eye. 

“How dare you, I am not scheming, I am simply…plotting for us to look the sexiest in the entire place.” 

Yeosang sent him a deadpan look. 

“Not only are ‘scheming’ and ‘plotting’ synonyms, I doubt I’m going to look better than anyone else at a party that literally has fashion models at it.” Yeosang muttered flatly. 

San spoke next. 

“Why not? You’re really handsome.”

Yeosang blushed. He blushed. 

“I-”

“Which one of you wants to start first?” He interrupted the car crash happening in Yeosang’s mind with a bright smile, gesturing to the impromptu dressing room he’d turned his living room into. 

San smiled, seemingly wanting to spare Yeosang of more fussing as soon as he walked in, and made his way to the living room, his footsteps nearly silent. 

“I’ll go first. What do we need to start with-”

“Go change into this and wash your face with the products I put on our bathroom sink. Yeosangie, go on and sit down and I’ll brush your hair so I can figure out how to style it.” 

Yeosang’s feet moved on their own and he found himself seated on the couch, scrolling on his phone as Wooyoung carefully brushed his hair, muttering to himself about styling. 

“Your hair has gotten so long…” Wooyoung muttered, catching a tangle while he mused and tugging Yeosang’s hair. Yeosang let out a sound akin to a growl, inhaling sharply. 

Wooyoung froze. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry!”

Yeosang felt his head get engulfed in warmth as Wooyoung hugged him from behind. The familiar scent of his cologne filled Yeosang’s senses and he nearly closed his eyes to sink into the feeling, even if it was laced with a new, interesting scent. 

Must be San’s.

They…complimented each other well. 

Yeosang’s musing was cut off by Wooyoung placing a kiss to his head in apology. Yeosang inhaled sharply for the briefest of moments, fingers twitching slightly. 

“I’m back.”

Wooyoung took his time looking up, though when he did and Yeosang followed suit, both of them were at a loss for words. 

“Crop top.” Yeosang muttered without thinking. Sure enough, San had on a black cop top, his lean abdomen in full view. His pants clung to every curve and muscle of his legs and-

And…?

And he’s been staring at his best friend’s boyfriend for way too long. 

“God, I’m a genius.”  Wooyoung nodded, standing and walking over, admiring him openly, grinning from ear to ear. Yeosang watched them, glancing between the two. 

“Isn’t the crop top going to be cold? Are you going to be okay? Don’t catch a cold.” 

Smooth, Yeosang. Surely, that’s what they’re concerned about. Especially after Wooyoung worked so hard on this and-

“Are you worried about me?” San sent him a charming smile and sat in the dining room table across the room. 

“I promise I won’t get sick.”

“If he does, help me take care of him, yeah? He’s pouty when he’s sick.” 

“I am not.”

“You’re pouting right now. Sit down, babe.”

San playfully rolled his eyes and sat down, letting Wooyoung get started with his makeup. Yeosang turned half way on the couch, watching as Wooyoung began applying makeup to San. 

Watching Wooyoung work was an…experience. 

He focused, whether it was cooking or fashion, he always narrowed his gaze in this…intense manner that made Yeosang pay close attention. 

He was…so handsome. 

“We’re going with a black and pink look for you, Sannie. Tilt your head up, baby.” Wooyoung spoke under his breath, his fingers diligently working. 

“Keep your eyes closed, I’m doing your lids.” 

Yeosang walked over, his feet carrying him without a second thought. He stood beside Wooyoung, watching as he added a shimmery pink to the smoky eye he was doing for San. 

“He looks like an idol…” Yeosang spoke before realizing what he was saying and went beet red when San opened his eyes half way, sending him a slight smoldering look as he locked eyes with him. 

Yeosang froze. 

“Thank you-”

“Close your eyes so help me god if you mess up my hard work-” Wooyoung hissed, lightly nudging his leg with his knee. San chuckled and closed his eyes again, relaxing back in the chair. 

Yeosang tried to keep himself still while he watched, but he found his gaze wandering. 

San’s face, the curve of his jaw, and the upturn of his lips as he tried to hold back a laugh when Wooyoung began putting lipstick on him, his hands idly coming to rest on Wooyoung’s hips as he stood between his legs.

Yeosang’s attention shifted over to Wooyoung, watching the subtle way he shifted from foot to foot, his eyes scanning San’s face. A gentle smile came to his own the more he worked and got closer to completing, muttering small praises under his breath and thank yous for San sitting still for him.

He didn’t have any makeup on himself, but Yeosang couldn’t tear his eyes away from him, his leg bouncing ever so slightly as he watched Wooyoung stand to his full height. 

“Okay, we’re done here. We’ll wait for the ears and tail till the end when I do everyone’s hair. Yeosang, you’re next darling, go wash your face, your facial care products are to the left. Your skin is a bit too sensitive to use the one San and I use. There’s a light yellow towel in there, too, you can use that to dry your face.”

Yeosang smiled and nodded, trudging down the hall. Wooyoung watched him leave, smiling before he turned to San, admiring him with his finger tapping to his own lips. 

“God, you really do look irresistible. I’m gonna have to beat folks off of you with a stick.” 

San arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow and chuckled, tilting his head to the side. 

“Everyone?” 

Wooyoung blushed, glancing behind him, where he still heard running water from the half bathroom down the hallway. 

“You little pervert- what if he hears you?”

“Makes it a bit easier for us to get to seeing if it’ll work, no?” 

Wooyoung stared at him, baffled at how bold the country boy was. San didn’t break his gaze, brows going up as he waited for Wooyoung to contest his train of thought. 

“Behave yourself, you can’t just go hey, my boyfriend and I kind of like you.”

San slow blinked at him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Wooyoung nodded, seemingly in the process of relaxing. 

“-I would say we definitely like you.” 

“CHOI SAN.”

“I’m done-hm?” Yeosang looked back and forth between the two men, blinking as they stopped immediately, looking at him. 

“Everything okay?” He inquired. They smiled in an instant, sparkling and charming as they nodded nearly in unison. 

“Yep”/”Uh-huh.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes slightly. He couldn’t prove it, but they were definitely scheming. At least his gut told him they were. 

“Nevermind that! Sangie, you’re in the seat next!” 

Yeosang moved and sat down where San was before, looking up at Wooyoung as he came closer, leaning down into his space. 

San wasn’t too far off, leaning on the kitchen counter beside them, watching in the same manner Yeosang had done previously. Yeosang glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a moment. 

San sent him a boy next door smile, eyes turning into crescents. Yeosang felt something in his chest flutter for a moment before his chin was grabbed and turned, his eyes widening for a moment as Wooyoung made him look up. 

His lips parted, he didn’t say a word, just keeping his eyes fixated on Wooyoung’s. 

He’s so close. Really, just a gentle brush and they’d be kissing-

“Close your eyes, Sangie.” 

Yeosang’s hands shook in his lap as he closed his eyes, letting Wooyoung get to work on him. San didn’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyes longingly drifted down to Yeosang’s lips before he bit his own, getting to work on his best friend’s makeup. 

“San will be pink…you’re green…and I’ll be red.” He whispered, the faint scent of something sweet still lingering on his breath. Yeosang tried not to laugh or move as one of the brushes ran over his skin gently, though he perked when he felt Wooyoung touch his thigh. 

“Can you spread your legs for me?”

Keep your mind out of the gutter, Yeosang.

Its makeup, Yeosang.

He doesn’t mean it like that, Yeosang.

Yeosang parted his legs, willing himself to keep his eyes closed as Wooyoung came closer, his warmth once again flooding Yeosang’s senses. 

“Like that, good. Keep your head up.” Wooyoung murmured under his breath, his fingers brushing along Yeosang’s neck for a brief moment as he adjusted the angle of his head, not wanting to smudge the foundation on his face. 

Wooyoung, despite his calm breaths, was just as dizzy as Yeosang was. He didn’t do Yeosang’s makeup often-he often went natural whenever they went out with friends or together- so he hadn’t had too many instances of him being in this very position. 

Now that he was here, he was worried he’d fucked up. 

He was too close. Yeosang could probably hear his heart, hear the erratic and frantic beating nearly tumbling out of his chest. Or worse yet, the occasional way his breath caught as he and Yeosang’s thighs brushed against each other. 

“Okay, can you open your eyes?”

Yeosang did as he was told and San leaned close, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Holy fuck that looks amazing.” 

Yeosang’s makeup was less intense compared to San’s, though his eyes stood out boldly thanks to the green and gold smoky eye Wooyoung had given him. 

“I like that you left his birthmark out.” San mused, smiling sweetly. Yeosang felt his cheeks darken as he looked over at Wooyoung. Wouldn’t one want to cover a blemish like that when doing makeup?

“Yeah, it’s cute and accents his face. I’m not gonna cover it.” He huffed, adamant. Yeosang picked at his sweatpants, shyly glancing away as he smiled despite himself. 

Wooyoung, satisfied, moved away from him and down the hall to finally wash his own face and get started on his own makeup. 

“Have you been to a party like this before?” San caught his attention and Yeosang shook his head, rubbing his neck gently. 

“I’m…not the extroverted one out of the two of us. Wooyoung usually starts the conversations, makes the friends, and I get…invited along, and if we get along well, then we become friends.” He admitted, rubbing his arm. San looked at him and walked around the counter, grabbing something from the fridge behind Yeosang. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. With you being more reserved. It…makes it really nice from the outside in when you smile at them, consider them a friend, go out and about with them. At least, that’s how I feel.” San hummed, washing something in the sink. Yeosang looked over his shoulder, hearing something getting slid across the counter. 

A bowl of fruit. 

“We asked you to come early…I don’t know if you’ve eaten. Here.” 

Yeosang looked down at the bowl and reached, smiling softly. 

If…if…anyone had to be the one to have Wooyoung…Yeosang was glad it was San. 

He bit down on a strawberry, mind wandering while San tossed a chunk of pineapple in his mouth. The two stood in silence for a bit, until the sound of boots coming down the hall drew their attention. 

If there was a thought in either of their heads, it was gone. Packed up and rolling a suitcase down the block, gone. 

“Can someone tie me up?”

In the time spent away, Wooyoung had put on a button-up shirt on, tucked into a pair of tight dress pants that hugged his ass. 

He wasn’t wearing underwear, was he? There wasn’t a single outline for anything underneath as he turned his back to them, the strings to the corset dangling down. San glanced at Yeosang and shied. 

“I uh, I don’t really know how to tie one of those up.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. San had never tied a corset before. It probably wasn’t the hardest to learn. He would’ve offered if it wasn’t for him catching the way Yeosang’s eyes had clearly trailed down to Wooyoung’s ass. 

He was helping, surely. 

“I h-have hand tremors.” Yeosang tossed the ball back, the tips of his ears red. Wooyoung glanced between the two of them and rolled his eyes. 

“If neither of you want to tie it, I’ll just call Yeonjun to-”

“No, I- I got it.”

San glanced over at Yeosang as he spoke up, clearing his throat and moving over to Wooyoung, standing on a few centimeters taller than the man. Wooyoung looked at him, meeting his gaze with a small, almost flirty smile before he turned and left his back to him. He realized his shirt was see through and Yeosang’s eyes landed on the dark letters at the base of his neck.

‘I am never alone, and I will never be.’ 

Yeosang’s gaze softened as he looked at the dark lines, his fingers moving without him thinking, tracing. He’d been there when Wooyoung had it done. Held his hand and rubbed his knuckles every time he squeezed from the pain. 

“We’re gonna be late, Sangie. Unless you wanted to stay in instead?” Wooyoung quietly reminded him. Yeosang startled and cleared his throat, slightly shaking hands grabbing the string of Wooyoung’s corset vest, tying it carefully. 

“You’ll have to give it a good tug at the end, okay? I don’t need it coming unlaced in the middle of the party. 

Yeosang didn’t want that either, didn’t like the idea of him being stared at too intensely by a bunch of people who didn’t know him. 

Wooyoung was so much more than his looks. 

Yeosang huffed, annoyed at the idea as soon as it popped up, and pulled, tightening the strings with a sharp tug. Wooyoung let out a sound of surprise and stumbled ever so slightly, backing into him. 

“Eh-”

“Sorry-”

Don’t think about his ass against you, Yeosang. Don’t think about it, don’t focus on it, leave those thoughts alone-

“I’m glad you’re so well-built or my clumsy ass would’ve knocked us both over.” Wooyoung joked, still pressed up against him. Yeosang swallowed shakily and blushed, glancing down to see no space between them. 

He should probably move before he gets hard. 

“It was my fault for pulling so suddenly. S-sorry.” 

He took a half step back, glancing over and blushing as San stared at them, still leaning on the island counter, feline eyes calm and half lidded as he combed them up and down Yeosang’s form. 

Yeosang, then Wooyoung. 

The dog trainer could only describe it as ‘that one look in romantic dramas where one person is eyeing their partner from the bed and clearly is thinking of dragging them back into it to show them euphoria’. 

Or maybe Yeosang is already entirely too flustered and he’s seeing things. There’s no way Wooyoung’s boyfriend would look at him like that. He didn’t even know why the idea of him doing so made a pleasant shiver run down his spine. 

He’s losing it, that’s the only reasonable response. 

“Okay~ both of you sit still while I get the ears on you and we’re all set!” 

Yeosang shyly moved away, watching as Wooyoung carefully pulled out the three sets of ears and tails he’d made to go with their outfits. 

Deep orange with black tipped fox ears for himself, blonde with soft pastel blue accents for Yeosang’s cat fit, and dark, midnight black rabbit ears with hot pink accents for San. 

They all looked…quite stunning. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” San mused, looking at himself in his phone’s camera, eyes up in surprise at the end result of Wooyoung’s handiwork. Wooyoung grinned from ear to ear, hands on his hips. 

“Probably not. I am pretty damn great.” 

Yeosang rolled his eyes and playfully nudged him. 

“Let’s just go before his head gets any bigger.” 

The three of them pour out into the night, piling into Wooyoung’s car and heading deep into the heart of the city, the light conversation and impromptu karaoke in the vehicle helping settle Yeosang’s erratic heartbeat. 

They met up with their friends outside of the venue, with Yeji, Chan, and Changbin dressed up as Miruko, Hawks, and Dabi, from BNHA, respectively. Yeji perked as soon as she laid eyes on San, pointing energetically. 

“Hello my fellow bunny friend, join the club!” She grinned, looping arms with Soobin and pulling him in. He blushed, his hands obscured by large rabbit paw shaped gloves as he shyly waved. 

“Oh? So you and Yeonjun ended up doing One Piece after all?” Wooyoung piped up beside San and Soobin nodded, his ears bouncing with the movement. 

“He’s Zoro…I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me be Luffy. Or Ace. Or literally anyone who didn’t require me to wear a dress. I had to fight for my life to convince him I would not survive the night with a dress on and to let me just gender bend it and wear pants.” 

San blinked and looked over, finding Yeonjun pouting not too far off, his hair a deep green color and three swords strapped to his hips. 

“Because you look cute as shit as Carrot. Also I only gave up because I will literally use these swords if someone tries playing grab ass with you.” He grumbled. Soobin pursed his lips, crossing his arms. 

“All of the dress shops stop at a medium anyway and I don’t know if you remember this or not, but I am very tall and dresses intended for feminine bodies that are about three sizes too small would only lead to my ass and balls being out.” 

“And then I’d go to jail for stabbing someone.”/”And then you’d go to jail for stabbing someone.” both of them chimed at the same time. San and Yeosang blinked while Wooyoung snorted beside them. 

“Some things never change. They finish each other’s sentences.” He chuckled before turning towards the entrance of the venue Jiyong had rented out for them. 

When they got inside, they found the group of guests a lot smaller than expected. San even recognized a few of them as some of the workers who would occasionally drop by Namhae to bring gifts to the little ones or have lunch dates with Chaerin and Jiyong. 

It looked less like a high stakes social gathering where everyone was at each other’s throats, trying to become the ‘next big thing’, and more like a larger-than-average Halloween themed house party. 

Unfortunately for Yeosang, he tended to be a wallflower at parties his friends didn’t throw, so he found himself trailing after Wooyoung and San instead, smiling politely and greeting others when he was greeted first. 

Everyone here looked…stunning. 

He hadn’t noticed he’d been falling behind his friend group until his attention snapped into focus, feeling a warm arm lace under his, squeezing in reassurance. 

When he looked to his left, Wooyoung smiled at him, nose scrunching ever so slightly. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

Yeosang flushed, looking over and seeing San had walked over to Jiyong and Chaerin, chatting to them as they stood dressed like Morticia and Gomez Addams. Beside them were Jongho, Eric, and Gahyeon, dressed as Sora, Riku, and Kairi, respectively. 

In a way, it comforted Yeosang, to see the little ones looking around with their wide, doey-eyed smiling faces, running around between the adults-all of which they assumed were close friends of the two throwing the party. 

That, and Wooyoung’s warmth at his side, grinning at him from ear to ear as he guided him through the crowd, greeting people and introducing his introverted friend as he went. 

Yeosang could see a few wandering eyes as they passed, some that combed over Wooyoung’s frame in appreciation a bit too long. 

Without thinking, he tensed his arm, pulling Wooyoung closer to him, until not even a silk thread could squeeze between their bodies. 

If Wooyoung noticed the way his body began to wind itself tight, he politely didn’t tease him, simply stepping with him as he guided Yeosang back to their friends, the fur of his tail occasionally brushing against Yeoang’s pants, tickling through the material. 

“Hyung! Oh-”

The two looked down, finding Eric staring up at them with big eyes. He looked left, then right, then left again. 

“Puppy.” He pointed at Wooyoung and the man grinned, nodding. 

“Mhm. And you look so cool, Eric!” 

Eric nodded, still looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Hyung?” 

“Yes, Eric?” 

“Did you break up with Sannie-Hyung?” 

The sound that left both Wooyoung and Yeosang was truly beyond human comprehension. The two stared at him, slack jawed and flabbergasted. Eric snorted himself at their responses, rocking to and fro on his heels, his temporary silver dye making his hair stand out more than ever. 

“Wha- Eric??? No?” Wooyoung recovered, eyes as wide as saucers. Eric hummed and nodded, looking over at Yeosang. 

“So you gots two boyfriends like Yeji-Noona? That’s cool! Can I pet your puppy again, Hyung?” 

Wooyoung went beet red, Yeosang blinked in surprise, stammering as Eric looked around, seemingly for Yunho. When he realized the mastiff was nowhere to be found, he pouted and turned on his heels. 

“Aw…no Yuyu…that's too bad he would've been a cool Arcanine!” He toddled off, seemingly bouncing back from the heartbreak of Yunho’s absence fairly quickly, if the way he took off towards Changbin and Yeiji as they sipped on brightly colored drinks made to look like lab experiments.

“WOAH YOU LOOK SO COOL-”

The two men stood in silence for a moment before looking at one another. 

Both were cherry red. 

Yeosang didn't make any flustered denials to the child.

Wooyoung didn't correct him, either.

Both men seemed to realize this, if the way they shifted from foot before opening their mouth in unison was anything to go by. 

“I-”

“Do you-”

They stopped instantly, peering at one another before Wooyoung coughed and shied more.

“I'm gonna head to the bathroom.” 

And there he went, his tail swaying with every step as he maneuvered through people. Yeosang rubbed his neck and shied, clearing his throat and looking around.  

Chan, Changbin, and Yeji were entertaining the children a ways away from him. 

Soobin and Yeonjun appeared to be in a deep conversation about modeling prospects. 

And San was….

“Seriously, you look really good. Are you sure you don't want to buy us a drink and chat more?”

San looked flustered, glancing between a group of three women who clearly were not afraid of the interest in their eyes. 

“No thank you, I have a partner already.”

“And~? She left you all alone at this party looking like that? Clearly she doesn't know the catch she's got in front of her.”

San smiled politely, though there was the telltale pull in his eyebrow that Yeosang could read clear with the rest of his body language. 

Confusion. Perplexion. Damn near panic.

He found his feet carrying him without a thought, the bodies in the room mere blurs as he took step after step, eyes fixed on San.

“I think I should go-”

“Aw, but we're having fun teasing you~ Surely one night won't be the worst thing, right?”

“There you are, darling. I've been looking for you.”

San perked, turning his head and finding Yeosang standing just past the crescent the three women had mad around San. They all blinked in surprise, but Yeosang stared past him, eyes locked onto San’s.

“I went to get us a drink but it looks like you wandered off while I was being indecisive. Can we choose together?” He extended his hand to him, waiting.

San moved instantly, lacing their fingers together and clearing his throat. 

“Sorry about that, Sangie. Let's go.” He let Yeosang take his hand, pressing flush against him and quickly ejecting himself from the area. 

Yeosang didn’t let his hand go instantly, instead giving him a reassuring squeeze and pulling him to the table that had various juices and sodas laid out for people to take on their own. 

San looked at their hands, gently squeezing back as he followed the outline of Yeosang’s tone arm all the way up past his shoulder and to the back of his head. 

He was tense. 

“Thank you…I have a hard time being rude to people and I’ve never…had that happen to me before…” He rubbed his arm. The folks back in Namhae didn’t look on him too fondly after he’d been outed to the entire village. San wasn’t going to go into it right now, though. Yeosang probably wasn’t interested in his life like that anyway-

“It’s not rude. They made you uncomfortable.” His tone was on the more even side, his jaw set firmly before he sighed a bit harsher through his nose and looked at San. 

“....do you want that drink now? Are you sure you’re okay?” He inquired. San blushed slightly, nodding before he glanced down between them. 

They were still holding hands. 

Yeosang realized where his line of sight had gone and quickly let go, clearing his throat and turning towards the table. 

“Banana Milk….ramune, sikye, citron tea, cola,McCol-”

“Tea…I’d like the citron tea, please.” San politely pointed and smiled in thanks when Yeosang handed him over the prepackaged tea that had been sitting in a tub of ice along with the other drinks. 

“Ah, I found you. I knew making those ears neon colors would come in handy.”

The two turned and found Wooyoung standing victoriously with his hands on his hips, smiling from ear to ear at them. San-and Yeosang’s-shoulders both relaxed as the man sauntered over, draping himself over both of their shoulders and glancing at the table. 

“Anything good?”

“There’s Cola, but it’s not your favorite brand.” Yeosang muttered, broadening his stance so Wooyoung wouldn’t fall. The man pouted a bit before shrugging and grabbing a can. 

“It’ll work. Are you two having fun?” He inquired. Yeosang pursed his lips and San shifted from foot to foot. 

“Some women were saying some really uncomfortable and flirtatious things to me a second ago but Yeosang got me the hell out of there. Thank you again, I really appreciate it.” San sent Yeosang a grateful look and the man cleared his throat, flustered. 

“I-”

“Who was it?” 

Both heads snapped over to Wooyoung, an air of annoyance and rage dripping off of him. They glanced at one another before shaking their heads in unison. 

“Wooyoung, my baby, it’s okay. Really, it’s over.” San rubbed his shoulder encouragingly. 

Yeosang shook his head. 

“It was shameless but I got him out of there. Don’t let it ruin your night.” He told him softly, the tightness in his jaw loosening the moment he saw how pissed Wooyoung had gotten. 

The man narrowed his eyes before straightening his back. 

“There’s music playing. Let’s go dancing. See if anyone wants to try some shit now that I’m here.”

Yeosang’s smile faltered. Oh…it made sense, that Wooyoung would make it know that San was his and his alone. He hated his brain, though, unable to shake the disappointment of being left here to dry while the two danced-

Oh, oh that’s Wooyoung’s hand in his. 

Oh, there they go, both of them getting dragged to the dancefloor with Wooyoung leading the charge, marching to the beat of his own drum. 

Yeosang stumbled for but a moment before he caught his balance, following Wooyoung. San recovered quickly, too, smiling so brightly, his eyes disappeared into joyful crescents, his dimples deep and pronounced. 

“The music is good, cmon boys. Can’t have anyone else getting bold with my two favorite boys, right?” Wooyoung grinned, moving with the music as if it were a song he’d heard time and time again. San and Yeosang looked flustered, but the former recovered first, dancing with Wooyoung amongst the small crowd of party goers that had gathered on the dancefloor at the center of the hall. 

Wooyoung noticed Yeosang hadn’t budged a minute into his mini dance session and made a point to twirl over to him, his tail spinning along with him before he settled with his hands around his best friend’s shoulders, sending him an inviting smile. 

“C’mon Sangie. I know you can dance. You’re one of the best I know.” He swayed with him, hips moving in a near hypnotic fashion. 

Yeosang wondered if this was going to be the end of him. Right here, in the middle of a dancefloor on Halloween. In front of his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend. 

Yeosang looked over Wooyoung’s shoulder at San, but just like all of the previous times he’d found himself unconsciously doing so, he was only met with San’s gentle, inviting features. 

A gentle smile, a step closer, his hands on Wooyoung’s hips, dancing intimately, yet respectfully (they did have three little ones scurrying around…somewhere). 

He never seemed to hold any…uncomfortable or self conscious air around Yeosang, even during times like these. 

So…Yeosang finally put some of his apprehension aside, and just…went with the music. 

His fingers brushed against San’s as he held Wooyoung’s waist, eyes locking with him while they danced, moving to the rhythm. A brilliant smile stretched across Wooyoung’s face as he continued to dance, alternating between facing Yeosang and facing San.

“Mmm, the three of them are getting along well.” Chaerin muttered over her glass of sparkling cider, watching the way Wooyoung brought both her son and the soft spoken dog trainer they had met the other day out of their respective shells. 

“Looks like it. Hope it goes well.” Jiyong chimed in, watching as his daughter learned some Kpop dance with the help of Yeonjun and Yeji. 

The party lasted longer than expected, with no incidents past the initial trio of women trying to romance San. San and co stayed behind long after the party-goers had left, making sure the place was tidy and carrying the little ones out to Chaerin’s car.

Yeosang yawned, taking a look at his watch and grunting at the ‘12:50am’ staring back at him. He was impressed they stayed up so late, but wondered if him staying out for so long was wise in it’s own right. 

He’d had a pretty consistent sleep schedule and by this time usually, he would have been asleep. The way he nodded off was a dead giveaway for Wooyoung, and he gently nudged San. 

“Sangie is all tired.” He whispered, smiling as Yeosang let out another yawn. 

“Should head home…”Yeosang rubbed his eye and Wooyoung laughed gently.

“How about you come back to our place, I help you with the makeup, and you crash there? It’s kind of late and you look like you’re going to fall asleep standing.” Wooyoung teased him. Yeosang opened his mouth like he was going to refute the statement but inevitably he nodded, simply following them to Wooyoung’s car after waving goodbye to everyone else. 

The ride back to Wooyoung and San’s home was quiet, the silence padded out only with the sounds of the vehicle in motion and Yeosang snoring in the back seat. 

Wooyoung held San’s hand as he drove, thumb brushing along his knuckles. Neither filled the silence with conversation, only each other’s presence, while occasionally smiling to one another or laughing softly when Yeosang’s snores got a bit louder than usual. 

By time they’d arrived home, Yeosang was in a deep sleep, and not even San bending to pick him up bridal style roused him. Wooyoung looked at them, head tilted. 

“A buff bunny and a buff cat, mm?” 

“Fanasize later, I don’t want him to catch a cold.” San lightly scolded, hustling over to the door. Wooyoung moved ahead, passing him to unlock the door. 

“Take him to the guest room. I’ll be there in a second, I just need to get some things.” 

San nodded, carrying Yeosang down the hall to the aforementioned room. He stood in the center of the room holding him, however, when he realized the small conundrum he was in. 

Was he to…just put him in bed? It was inappropriate to change him, right? 

“Oh sweetheart, you look flustered.” 

San looked over his shoulder at Wooyoung as the man pulled back the covers. 

“I'll leave some clothes aside for him and he can change into them if he wakes up in the middle of the night.” he calmly instructed, removing Yeosang’s shoes as San passed with him.

“You really are overworking yourself, mmm?” He tutted, watching as his friend didn't rouse in the slightest with all the movements and jostling of San carrying him. 

Once he was in bed, Wooyoung pulled the blankets up his chest, taking out some of the makeup wipes he’d brought with him and meticulously taking off the makeup he’d applied to Yeosang. 

He hovered over him, hands steady and breath fanning over his face as he made sure every bit was gone. San leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching the two with his arms crossed. 

“Sleep well, you little hardass. I can’t have you collapsing from exhaustion, y’know.” Wooyoung murmured, reaching to grab the small rag he’d brought in along with the wipes. It was in a small bowl of warm water and once he wrang it out, he returned to Yeosang’s face, gently washing it with the warm rag. 

Yeosang cracked his eyes open part ways through the pampering, half lidded and unfocused with sleep as Wooyoung hovered over him, cupping his cheek. 

He looked up, meeting Wooyoung’s gaze. 

“Hey sleepy head. You up?” The younger man whispered. Yeosang made a noise akin to a grunt in the back of his throat and closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into his hand, nuzzling. Wooyoung exhaled softly, kissing his forehead and guiding his head back to the center of the pillow. 

“Right, of course. Good night, darling.” he muttered, standing and taking the items out, leaving with San as the two spoke in hushed tones. 

Yeosang slept on, until he felt the call of nature tugging at him an hour later. His brows furrowed and he sat up, rubbing his eye and looking around the room. 

He found the pile of clothes sitting at the foot of the bed and blushed, realizing someone carried him in. 

Wooyoung was strong, but he was almost certain it would have been San, if anyone. 

Yeosang’s heart squeezed, a flutter of something making him shiver at the thought of San carrying him. 

Has he finally lost it? What’s gotten into him?

Shaking his head, Yeosang grabbed the clothes, changing and making his way down the hall towards the bathroom. He knew Wooyoung’s home like the back of his hand. Guest room was furthest from the stairs while the bathroom was across the hall from the Master bedr-

“N-nn wait, slow down-”

Yeosang blinked, hand pausing on the door handle of the bathroom, looking at the closed door to his best friend’s room. It took all of two seconds for him to realize what was happening beyond, and he felt his heart nearly tumble roll down his chest. 

He should probably go, he was sure this wasn’t appropriate for him to be watching-

“Pretty baby. Did it feel good? Having Yeosangie come to your rescue? Holding your hand? It felt nice having both of your hands on me. Wah~ Sannie, are you paying attention?”

Yeosang’s eyes grew. He turned and stared at the door, as if the longer he did, he could see inside. It was Wooyoung, clear as day. 

What on Earth….?

“H-hot…nn it was hot I liked it-Ah! Fuck, right there please!”

Yeosang thought it was silly, all the media he’d consumed in his life mentioning pinching in order to make sure one was not dreaming, but he suddenly understood the sentiment as he heard San’s moans increase in volume before suddenly they were muffled. 

Beyond the door, Wooyoung covered his mouth, eyes narrowed in delight at the way San trembled below him, his rabbit ears still situated on his ears, albeit a bit haphazardly. He couldn’t settle on where his gaze would stay, switching between watching his flustered face, and watching the way his cock slid in and out of the country man. He practically purred at the way San clenched, desperate to keep him from slipping out of him. 

Wooyoung rolled his hips, speeding up as he growled sweet nothings and filth into dimly let room. 

“You look so pretty like this, darling. All splayed out, taking cock like the cute little rabbit I made you into. I wanna share this sight with Yeosang, y’know.”

“Please, Wooyoung. I c-can’t take it-”

“You can, baby. I know it. Look at how excited you are, gripping me tighter every time I thrust in. Do you think Yeosangie would take his time with you? Or would he claim you, make sure those chicks from the party know exactly who you belong to?” he shuddered, having to adjust himself before his desire got ahead of him and he ended up accidentally pulling out. 

Wooyoung moved his hand away from San’s mouth, running his fingers down San’s throat, admiring the little bites he had placed all over the tanned canvas. 

“You’re so pretty, baby. You wear my love bites well. I wonder how many Yeosangie would leave on you if we told him how we felt. He does have such pretty canines~”

San clenched, back arching as he held onto Wooyoung’s wrist, grinding down to meet Wooyoung half way with each thrust. 

Outside, Yeosang stared at the door slack jawed, his heart beating nearly out of his chest as he heard the two have sex, his name being dropped quite liberally between the two of them as they got closer and closer to their collective climax. 

He startled into focus and quietly made his way downstairs to the guest bathroom, eyes wide as the situation rolled around in his mind. 

His best friend, and the man he’d been in love with for years had been having sex with his boyfriend, and both of them had tossed his name around in the bedroom. 

Yeosang stood over the sink after he washed his hands, staring at his reflection for a moment before he peeked out of the bathroom, straining his ears to see if the men were still going at it. 

Both of them were quite energetic…were they the types who preferred to go for multiple rounds? 

Yeosang blushed and shook his head, trying to knock the inappropriate thoughts out of his head. 

He quietly made his way back upstairs, casting a sidelong glance at the master bedroom as he passed. 

He could hear muffled talking, thought it wasn’t nearly as loud and clear as it had been before. Perhaps they’d settled down. The dog trainer found himself staring at the door for much longer than he’d intended to, fidgeting for a moment before he quickly made his way back down to the guest room, the small part in his brain that was afraid of the door spontaneously opening while he was there carrying his feet much faster than they had been going before. 

Inside the room, however, Wooyoung lay with his arms draped around San, exchanging slow, languid kisses and tired smiles. 

“You alright? Do you need any water or anything? You were a lot more vocal tonight than usual when you’re bottoming~” he teased. San hid his face in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, his face hot with embarrassment. 

“‘M fine.” 

Wooyoung grinned and pressed a kiss to his head, closing his eyes and nuzzling him. His brain was full of domestic and warm thoughts of what he’d make tomorrow morning, something to see his two favorite men smile.

Before he could settle on breakfast, he felt the tug of sleep dragging him under. Somewhere, in his tired haze, he could have sworn he heard the faint creak of a door opening and closing. 

Must have been more tired than he thought. Probably nothing. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

     November 1st

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Yeosangie~ Darling~”

Yeosang’s eyes opened in an instant, with him startling for a brief moment when he realized he wasn’t in his home. It took him a few moments still for everything to flood back into his mind, clicking into place. 

The party, the women hitting on San, his hand in his, their hands on Wooyoung-

Wooyoung growling his name into the air as he and San made love and the pleased purrs he’d gotten in response. 

Yeosang blushed, felt his blood rushing even through his sleep addled brain, when suddenly the door opened and a blur of furr entered. 

A pair of cocoa brown eyes stared at him and he looked up in surprise as Yunho sat at the end of the guest bed. 

“How did you-”

“I woke up really early and figured your baby missed you so I got up before sunrise and went to your house to bring Yuyu here. I took him for a walk and cleaned up already, so don’t worry! I’m making breakfast for everyone so take your time and rest more if you need to do so. You were dead asleep when San brought you in so sleep more if you need to, baby.” Wooyoung stood in the doorway, speaking to him in what can only be considered a ‘sweetheart’s voice’. 

Yeosang blushed slightly and nodded, watching as Wooyoung turned and walked away after that, leaving the door cracked so Yunho could come and go as he pleased. 

Yunho glanced at his master, tail wagging as he subtly scooched closer, lowering his head for pets. He got them as Yeosang continued to gather his bearings. 

Once he did and begun to make his way down to the kitchen, he was met with San at the stove, stirring something with his bare back to him. Yeosang felt ridiculous at the way his eyes instantly locked onto the telltale bites he could see at the sides of his neck. 

“You’re so pretty, baby. You wear my love bites well. I wonder how many Yeosangie would leave on you if we told him how we felt. He does have such pretty canines~”

Yeosang found himself unconsciously licking at his canines, blushing once he realized what he was doing moments later. His eyes drifted down to San’s ass, a pair of nefarious sweatpants hiding the true shape of it from view, unlike the outfit from yesterday Wooyoung had put him in. 

“G-good morning, San.” 

San perked and turned around, sending him a dazzling smile, though Yeosang could see a clear dusting of pink across his cheekbones as he cleared his throat. 

“Good morning. How did you sleep? Are my clothes comfy? We’re around the same size so I wanted to grab something comfortable.”

Yeosang looked down at his own attire, nodding once. So it was San’s clothes they’d given him. 

“It’s comfortable. Thank you.” He muttered, looking back at the ex farm hand. San smiled at him and turned back around to the stove, seemingly fine with Yeosang seeing him half nude like he was. 

Then again, they were moaning for him last night, it was seeming less and less likely for them to actually mind him seeing them in any state of undress. 

“Ah, both of my babies are here, perfect. One of you come taste my cake.” 

Wooyoung cut into a small, flan-shaped cake, and the two watched as warm chocolate oozed out of it, much to his delight. San put a hand on his hip, sending him a gentle, good natured, yet exasperated look. 

“We’re supposed to have dessert after we eat.” 

Yeosang walked over despite the pout on Wooyoung’s face. The move seemed to make him perk in delight. He smiled at his friend, moving to hand him the dessert fork. 

Yeosang grabbed his wrist, instead.

He wanted to blame his actions on sleep. On the grogginess of his mind with all the emotions swirling around him. 

The man could unpack that later. For now, he leaned in, lips closing along the prongs of the fork and almost agonizingly slow, pulling the slice of cake off of it, a dribble of chocolate running down his bottom of his lip. 

Wooyoung, for his credit, stayed still, looking into Yeosang’s eyes with a smile on his face. 

“How is it you make a mess even when I’m holding the fork?” He teased, moving his hand up to wipe the chocolate off with his thumb. 

Deciding to press a bit more, Yeosang flicked his tongue out, licking him in the process and licking off the chocolate as soon as Wooyoung’s hand got close enough. 

“You know I’m a messy eater.” 

Wooyoung looked slightly taken aback, blinking owlishly, his hand stuttering uselessly midair before he brought it down, shyly searching Yeosang’s face. 

Without a doubt, his mind went somewhere southward. 

“Alright, messy eating or no, no one needs to go spoiling their appetite by eating chocolate before the actual bulk of breakfast.” San scolded, turning the stove off and pointing his cooking chopsticks over to the duo. 

“We already fed Yunho, you two go sit down and no more chocolate until you eat breakfast.” He lectured, going into the cabinet to get bowls. Wooyoung glances at Yeosang, curiously searching his face and body language before he put the lava cake on a heated plate in the center of the table, moving to help San with distributing breakfast. 

Yeosang sat down, pulling his hair back into a low ponytail so his bangs were out of his face, watching the two move about subtly. 

Whereas San had plenty of skin to show this morning, Wooyoung was in an overgrown t shirt and pj pants, his neck also littered with bites and marks, along with the faint lines of nail marks Yeosang could see thanks to the ill fitted shirt whenever it shifted to show more of his back and shoulders. 

Yeosang found himself picking up on everything now that he was actually looking for it. Wooyoung had always been the touchy feely type of man, but Yeosang found San also touching him a lot as they got everything situated on the table. 

A brush against his arm as he leaned over to set a cup of tea down, a graze across his shoulders in passing, his hand touching his back as he rested it there to ask how much of what he wanted for side dishes. 

The two of them touched him as much as they touched each other and he found his mind wandering easily. 

“Okay, everyone eat up and enjoy~” Wooyoung encouraged, eagerly digging in. San and Yeosang followed suit, with the three of them eating in comfortable silence. 

Yeosang only wished his mind would be as quiet as his mouth. 

Instead, it kept bringing him back to what he’d heard. What he’d seen. It made him think back to past behaviors, have the two of then honesty been seeing him in this light, or had it been some kind of…one off roleplay?

“Your brows are furrowing, Sangie. You alright?” Wooyoung voice called his mind into focus and he looked up. He’d been sitting with his chopsticks hovering near his mouth, zoned out. He blinked. Once, twice, before clearing his throat. 

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” he apologized and both of their expressions soured. 

“Is there anything we can help with?” San offered. Wooyoung pursed his lips, leaning on the table to eye him closely. 

“I saw your eye bags when I washed your face last night. You’re not sleeping well, do you want us to make you dinner so you don’t have to stay up cooking after training? Or deliver it to you for lunch?” He spoke a mile a minute while San nodded from beside him, rubbing his thigh and staring at Yeosang. 

….fuck it, right? 

“I would like that, actually.” 

The two of them blinked, seemingly not expecting him actually to take the offer. It took only a moment before they nodded, chattering quickly to themselves. 

“San, darling, I think I can come up with a nutritional meal plan for the next three weeks and we can alternate lunches and dinners and work around our schedules at the kitchen to make this work.” Wooyoung murmured, tapping his chin. San nodded, smiling as he looked over at Yeosang. 

“Just let me know what your favorite foods are, and I’ll do my best, okay? I still have plenty of garlic that's ready for use, I just hope you don’t get tired of it in the dishes…” He trailed off, tapping his chin. Yeosang spoke softly. 

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” He gently offered. The two of them looked at each other before grinning. 

“Great!” 

-

Yeosang would be the first to admit he was often too aloof for his own good when it came to anything not regarding his trainees. 

However, when he focused, his mind and eyes were as sharp as they came. 

When San and Wooyoung would stop by to see him training, eyes fixed on his every move, perking as he gave orders to both dog and human trainees, he noticed. 

When they stopped by the bookstore on his days in and would occasionally peer at him while pretending they were engrossed in a book they hadn’t turned the page of in five minutes, he noticed. 

When Wooyoung would plop down halfway in his lap after bringing over dinner and San would put his arm over the back of the couch, fingers gently touching the nape of Yeosang’s neck every time he stretched his arm, he noticed. 

The way their eyes followed him on days their friend group had time off to work out in the gym Chan, Changbin, and Soobin worked in, he noticed. 

And here, with Wooyoung’s arms crossed as he stared Lee down, eyes narrowed as an unamused look settled on his face, hostility rolling off of him in quiet waves while San stood at his side, lips pursed, displeasure on his face, Yeosang noticed. Lee didn’t back down, narrowing his own gaze right back at him.

“I don’t know why it is you two always pop up when I’m trying to talk to him, but it’s getting on my nerves, if I can be brutally honest. Who even are you two? His friends? That’s kind of toxic. Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to him privately?” Lee glared and San slightly put his body between Wooyoung and the man, seeing Wooyoung perk in agitation. 

“We’re sorry-”

“No, the fuck we are not.”

San cleared his throat. “-but we’re just trying to keep Yeosang on schedule.” 

Lee looked at him incredulously. 

“By cock blocking him? Unless the two of you are his boyfriends, why are you so up his ass huh? Not a dog in sight and yet here you are every other day, pining after him like a bunch of school girls. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

Even San took offense this time, his brows twitching and his lips pursing. 

Wooyoung grit his teeth, pushing past him and opening his mouth to tear into Lee when a loud, resounding bark startled the three of them (and the pomeranian in Lee’s arms). 

Their attention turned to the left, finding Yeosang’s quiet, yet angered gaze fixed in their direction with Yunho standing on giard, eyes fixed on them and tail straight up, alert. Wooyoung looked away first. Lee puffed his chest up and huffed. 

“Oh good, you’re here. These guys picked a fight with me and-”

“Everyone is dismissed today. Lee, I will be speaking to you before our next class, so be there early. San, Wooyoung, come.” Yeosang jutted his chin towards the door and turned on his heel, not waiting for any response from any of the men. Lee blinked in surprise, seemingly baffled that he was getting scolded while Wooyoung and San sent him a sidelong glare before falling in line behind Yeosang. 

They walked all the way to Yeosang’s house, in a tense silence that made the men feel more and more like they were kids in trouble. 

San squeezed Wooyoung’s hand, watching Yeosang’s back as he walked ahead with Yunho right at his side. Wooyoung glared at the sidewalk, face flush with embarrassed. 

They didnt pick a fight…mostly. They simply…stopped him from bullshitting. That’s all. 

….maybe it was a bit fight-picky. 

But also fuck him, he was trying to slink up and steal Yeosang. 

Wooyoung’s head tumble rolled in agitation. Yeosang wasn’t his, but he was his best friend and at the very least he would be damned if he let some sleazy asshole slink in and-

“Wooyoung. San.” 

Both of them perked, looking up as Yeosang opened the door to his home. They came inside, avoiding his gaze and toeing their shoes off. 

Wooyoung took a deep breath once the front door was closed and locked up.

“I wasn’t picking a fight with him, I just don’t fucking like him.” 

San rubbed his arm. He didn’t seem to have any explanation for his side. Yeosang stared at the two of them for a long while, crossing his arms. 

“Why don’t you like him?” 

“Because! He’s fucking weird.” 

His eyes narrowed at his friend and his boyfriend, face betraying none of the thoughts in his head. 

“And?”

“And he’s always flirting with you and that’s so inappropriate and fuck him, Yeosang.” Wooyoung hissed. San rubbed his back. 

“Maybe we should calm down a bit-”

“I don’t very much think either of you would appreciate me fucking him.”

The silence that stretched between the three of them was palpable. Yunho looked up at the men before making a gruff noise in the back of his throat and disappearing deeper into the home, seemingly sensing this was not a conversation his presence was needed for. 

San went beet red and Wooyoung nearly choked. Yeosang looked from either man and then dropped his arms. 

None of this really had a ‘smooth’ way of transitioning into conversation wise, did it?

“You both are sexually attracted to me, right? And Lee’s constant flirting bothers you?” 

He didn’t think their eyes could grow any wider. If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, he might have broken face and laughed at the expressions on their faces. 

“We…Yeosang-” San tried to recover first but ended up stumbling, his eyes darting all across Yeosang’s face, seemingly searching for disgust or anger in the man’s expression. 

On the contrary, Yeosang’s face was a perfect poker-worthy one as he looked at them both. Wooyoung shifted from foot to foot, stammering before he tightened his jaw. 

Well, if it’s all going to go down in flames, it might as well have some fireworks, right?

“I have been in love with you for years. If this is how it comes out, I’d like you to get that one part right, please. I am not just sexually attracted to you. I have been in love with you for as long as I can actually remember, thank you very much.” 

Yeosang’s expression finally shifted, brows going up in surprise before he looked to San. 

“I…s’pose you could say I’ve gotten sweet for ya, too. It’s not just a physical thing, I swear it-”

Yeosang moved to stand in front of them both, looking for any signs of deception, but of course, there was none. Just the understandably panicked expressions of the two men in front of him. 

“Is it going to be a problem, Yeosang?” Wooyoung quietly asked, his voice much softer than his normal tone was. Yeosang shook his head and let out a shaky laugh. 

“No, it makes it easier for me, actually.” 

Wooyoung blinked and felt the cogs in his mind grind to a stop when Yeosang cupped his face. His eyes grew once more and his lips parted as he looked up at him. 

“Is it okay? Can I finally kiss you instead of wishing I could?” He spoke softly himself and Wooyoung found himself nodding numbly, closing his eyes when Yeosang leaned in. 

He was grateful for both Yeosang and San, in all honestly. Had they not have been there, he was sure his knees would have given out and he would have folded the moment he felt lips against his own. 

Yeosang put an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, subconsciously keeping him from backing away and falling. When they broke the kiss, Wooyoung touched his lips, stunned into silence. Yeosang glanced beside them at the deer-in-headlights expression on San. 

“Come on. We might as well lay all of our emotions on the table tonight so we’re not misunderstanding, right?” 

San moved without needing to be told twice, leaning in and initiating the kiss with Yeosang, cupping the back of his neck with a callused hand, kneading and squeezing. Yeosang softly groaned, his free hand finding its way to San’s hip, now touching both of them, keeping the three of them tethered. 

When the kiss broke, Yeosang hummed and smiled softly, as if a weight had been lifted. 

“Well, that was a lot easier than expected.” he laughed, clearly the nerves he hadn’t been showing them before pouring out with his giggles. 

“C’mon. We can eat the leftovers from dinner yesterday and talk.” he offered, moving into the home and leaving the couple stunned. Wooyoung glanced at San and the country man looked just as dumbfounded as he did. 

They quickly recovered, darting deeper into the home and following behind Yeosang. 

“S-so….this is….sudden….?” Wooyoung tried to sift around and figure out what had brought this on. Yeosang dipped into the fridge, passing them all a bottle of package tea before leaning on the counter in his kitchen. 

“Halloween.”

They looked back at him in confusion. 

“H…alloween?” San parroted. 

“You two were having sex and talking about me.”

This time, Yeosang did laugh at the comical way both of them tensed, eyes wide as they stared at him. Wooyoung was the one to stutter through the response first. 

“Y-You were awake-”

“I had to go to the bathroom and I overheard you both. And it made me think back. All the touches, gazes, the way you kiss my cheeks and my face, Wooyoung. The way you didn’t tell Eric he was wrong you with having ‘two boyfriends like Yeji’, the hostility towards Yeji…I started noticing, paying attention better. You both want me.” 

They simply stared back, cheeks beet red, flushed and flustered. Yeosang could feel himself blushing too, his hands shaking more than his usual tremors could be blamed for. But, he had to continue. He had to proceed. 

“So…I’ll ask you upfront with no uncertainty, no miscommunication, do you two of you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Holy fucking shit is this real-”/”Absoutely, yes.” 

Wooyoung and San responded instantly. Yeosang blushed and cleared his throat, smiling softly despite the blush creeping all the way to his ears. 

“It’s real, Wooyoung. That’s not a response, d-darling.” the term of endearment left his lips with a flustered stammer, though that didn’t seem to turn Wooyoung off. He smiled softly, seeming to recover much faster than the other two. 

“A response? I’d love to call you both my boyfriend, darling. Is that better?” He inquired. Yeosang rolled his eyes, blushing slightly. 

“Whatever, just help me with warming the things up so we can have dinner.” 

The two of them moved instantly, and Yeosang realized fairly quickly, they were a dangerous duo. 

Suddenly he was treated to kisses to his jaw as Wooyoung passed, San’s calloused hands on his hips and his chest to his back when he turned to the counter to slice some fresh fruit for dessert, hands combing through his fluffy blonde locks, roaming over his arms and the chuckles that came after the goosebumps. 

They were going to be the end of him. He was sure of it. 

Even when he sat down to enjoy tv and unwind with….his new boyfriends (he was going to have to get used to that), he found that Wooyoung was a lot more devious when he wasn’t holding back. 

He had plopped down with Yeosang in the middle. He grabbed his hand, squeezing and holding it, tracing his fingers over his knuckles, running his thumb along the outline of the veins. San sat on the other side of him, head on his shoulder, seemingly already relaxed and acclimated to the new dynamic, his body tucked under the blanket that had been on the couch. 

Wooyoung’s hand found its way to his thigh eventually, kneading him like a cat as he pressed kisses along the right side of his neck, smiling at every little groan and gasp that had left his lips when he did. 

“You’re n-not watching the tv-”

“I’m not.” Wooyoung affirmed, squeezing his thigh even more, purring at him. Yeosang looked at him, heart thrumming in his chest. Wooyoung met his gaze and smiled softly. 

“Want me to stop?” 

Yeosang glanced down, his excitement had manifested itself clear as day.  

“...we should probably move to a more comfortable room.” was the response. San perked from beside them and sat up, the drowsiness that was in his body suddenly gone. 

Yeosang stood first, hissing at the telltale throbbing between his legs, and took the first step towards his room. 

Wooyoung and San were right behind him, and from the occasional bump into furniture and the sound of kissing, he could tell they had already started behind him. He opened the door to his room, turning and hooking his fingers into the waistband of their pants, pushing them both to the bed. 

“You two are insatiable.” He muttered, though he didn’t seem to mind when San turned, running a hand up the underside of his shirt, feeling his abs up before kissing him. 

“Can you really blame me when Wooyoung is our boyfriend? You’ll understand soon enough.” he chuckled against his lips before coaxing him into a deeper kiss. Yeosang groaned softly, pressing back and kissing him enthusiastically, though he choked when he felt the cool air of the room touch his dick. 

His eyes dropped down towards the bed, flustered as Wooyoung grabbed him, stroking him slowly while pressing kisses up the length. 

“Just give me a moment. Poor baby~ Must’ve been cold, mm?” He inquired, alternating between stroking fast and slow, a victorious smile stretching across his face. 

San knelt down beside him, kissing and nibbling at his abdomen. 

“H-How long…mmm…how long have you two wanted to do this with me?” Yeosang inquired. Wooyoung looked up at him, responding only by sinking down on his cock, holding his gaze. Yeosang growled, fingers twitching as Wooyoung slowly bobbed his head. 

San glanced beside him and then tutted. 

“Good luck focusing. He’s really greedy, y’know.” He moved around behind Yeosang, taking his hands and pinning them lightly behind his back, pressing against him. Yeosang didn’t tense, in face he leaned back in his grip, using the other man as a crutch while they both watched Wooyoung bob his head, working his way lower and lower.

“W-Wooyoung-” Yeosang moaned, thighs flexing as the man sunk lower, kneading and fondling his thighs before reaching to cup the back of them. It was to ground himself as he pulled himself forward, bobbing his head faster to take him deeper down his throat. 

“Can I touch you more, too?” San murmured into his ear, his free hand running over Yeosang’s arm. He nodded, shuddering as the lewd noises coming from between his legs from Wooyoung increased in volume. 

Wooyoung was making quite the mess, spittle running down his chin as he worked to take Yeosang further down his throat, eyelids fluttering closed despite his occasional gags. San ran his hand down Yeosang’s chest, fingers brushing over his nipples and smiling when he heard the sharp inhale come from him. 

“Here? Does it feel good?” He whispered, lips trailing over the shell of his ear, circling his nipple teasingly before lightly pinching, his dimples appearing when he drew a shuddering “fuck, yes” from the older man. 

“Can you promise to keep your hands here so I can use both of mine on you?” San coaxed, his cock undeniably hard against Yeosang’s ass as he flexed his fingers along his wrists. Yeosang nodded, deciding to let the two of them explore his body however they liked. 

San gently removed his hand from his wrists, turning his head to the side to kiss him languidly, pressing his bare chest to Yeosang’s back. 

Yeosang grabbed his own forearms as he kept his arms behind him, his body swaying as Wooyoung pulled his thighs, making him thrust and hit the back of his throat. San fondled his pectorals, lightly raking blunt nails down his chest, pulling soft, raspy groans out of him. 

“S-slow down, Wooyoung. You'll c-choke.” He stuttered, knees wobbling as Wooyoung looked up at him in defiance. He moved his hands from Yeosang’s thighs and cupped his balls with one, grabbing the base with the other as he pumped him in time with the bobs of his heaf, his eyes dark and focused. 

San looked over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he continued teasing Yeosang’s nipples and chest. 

“There's no stopping him when he has that look in his eye.” San let out a faux sigh, though Yeosang was in no condition to respond to him, his breathing increasing in frequency until he was panting, grabbing his arms so tightly it left indents in his arms. 

“W-Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung eagerly swallowed every drop of cum, a pleased spark of chaos in his eye as he pulled up with a slow, lewd ‘pop’.

“I've been wanting to do that for years, my love.”

Yeosang opened his mouth to say something, but it fell short when San's callused hand reached around, stroking his messy cock as he spoke to Wooyoung, his satoori dripping into his speech. 

“You’re still hard. Have you been pent up, Yeosang-ah? Mmm? When was the last time you got to let it out?” He inquired, nibbling and kissing the soft spot behind his ear. Yeosang’s knees buckled and he slipped from his grip, thankfully landing on the bed. 

Wooyoung sat up and pulled him closer, kissing him and sharing the taste of his release with him. Yeosang growled and kissed him feverishly, pushing him back and crawling on top of him. 

Wooyoung purred and smiled devilishly at him, licking at his lips. 

“Turn around for us, Yeosangie.” 

Yeosang held his gaze for a long, heated moment, and nodded, turning around. He soon found out why when Wooyoung made himself comfortable, hugging him from behind as San knelt down to nuzzle Yeosang’s cock, looking up at him. 

“Can I have it?” 

God, these two are going to make him fall apart, aren’t they? This is how he was going to die.

Yeosang nodded, watching the smile that stretched over San’s face as he sat back on his haunches. 

“Do you have lube?” 

He blinked. His face went beet red and Wooyoung made a small noise behind him, clearly pouting. 

“I will go to the store right fucking now” 

“I-its in the drawer behind San.” 

San moved in a flash, opening the drawer and shying when he saw a few…interesting toys in the drawer, as well. 

“So you have toys, you just haven’t been using them?” 

“I-I’ve been busy!”

Wooyoung reached down and stroked him, pouting against his ear. 

“My poor baby….Our poor baby. We can fix it baby. Don’t worry, your pretty cock won’t be pent up by time we’re done with you.” 

Yeosang’s heart thrummed in excitement as San came back, biting his lip. 

“He’s kind of…big, isn’t he?” He mused, eyeing Yeosang’s cock. It throbbed in response, and he inhaled sharply. Wooyoung didn’t seem perturbed, squeezing his cock and thumbing the head, smearing spittle and precum over it shamelessly. 

“Hung like a horse, yes. If you’re worried, I can go first. You can have my mouth.” 

“Wooyoung, oh my god-”

Wooyoung grinned victoriously at the shy outburst, Yeosang’s lisp more pronounced. The two of them traded places and Wooyung got himself situated, putting a pillow under his own hips and perking his ass up high, going nearly cross eyed as San stood in front of him, his cock in his face. Wooyoung grabbed and stroked his cock, teasing his head with his tongue as San reached over him to pour the lube directly over his rim. 

Yeosang watched the two of them, eyes fixated on Wooyoung’s hole as San pushed two fingers into him, purring praises above him as Wooyoung clenched around them. 

“C’mon baby, make sure to loosen up for our Yeosangie. Be a good boy for him, yeah?” San purred, his hands steady as one worked him open and the other spread his cheek so Yeosang could see every lewd detail. 

Wooyoung’s muffled moans went straight to his cock, the lube running down past his rim and down his balls as San gradually sped his fingers up, scissoring him open. 

“Come closer, Sangie. Touch him, he loves having someone touch and caress him.” He purred, though he jolted and swore under his breath when Wooyoung swallowed hard around his cock. 

Yeosang obeyed, coming closer and running his hands over Wooyoung’s thighs, up to the globes of his cheeks, and then moving down past his spine. 

He gripped one of his shoulders, kneading the muscle there firmly as his cock sat flush against his ass. 

“Good boy. Are you almost there? Is Sannie’s stretching you so good, isn’t he?” He purred, leaning in to kiss San, chasing his lips. Wooyoung whimpered below them, rolling his hips back to try and grind his ass on Yeosang. 

When Wooyoung kissed him, Yeosang felt like it was a battle for who was controlling the kiss. One pushes, the other pushes back, it had years of repressed emotions in it, unleashed in a not so silent clash between the two. 

When he and San kissed, the trainer felt the tentative feeling behind it, the cautious, yet eager exploration, feeling out the new man while leaving himself open for Yeosang to do the same. 

Yeosang felt like a pervert for thinking it, but the two of them made him want to ruin them. 

That would…probably be a conversation for a different night. Tonight had been more adventurous than Yeosang ever expected his sexual encounters to go already. 

“H-Hurry, fuck, please hurry.” Wooyoung complained, popping his mouth off and whimpering. Yeosang broke the kiss with San and moved to slick himself up properly, looking down at him with an affectionate, quiet gaze. 

Wooyoung looked back at him, giving his hips a shake. 

“I love you.” 

Yeosang held his waist with one hand, purring in gratitude at San for holding Wooyoung’s cheeks spread. 

“I love you too.” 

Finally sinking into Wooyoung nearly made him fall apart in an instant. The smaller man moaned loudly, clenching the blanket tight in his fist before he shuddered, back arched tight like a bow. 

“You okay baby?” San whispered, gently kneading and massaging his cheeks. Wooyoung nodded and tried to move his hips desperately. 

“Move, move, move please I need it.” 

Yeosang slowly rolled his hips, grinding deep into him. San smiled when he heard the way Wooyoung sighed in delight, kneading his thighs and moaning for Yeosang.

The dog trainer reaffirmed his grip on his hips and set a deep, rhythmic pace, watching the way Wooyoung clung to San for dear life. 

“R-right there nn like that, please, please-” He moaned looking up when San cupped his face, tilting his face up. 

“Go on, tell me how good he feels. You’ve been waiting so long for him, tell us.” He encouraged, licking at his lips. Wooyoung shuddered, eyes fluttering as Yeosang began grinding faster, perking in interest. 

“Cmon, Woo. Tell me. You had so much to say to San on Halloween. Let me hear it.” He reached between his legs stroking him as he kissed over his tattoo. 

“Fuck! N-Nnn feels…fuck he feels so good I’ve wanted it for so long. S-Sannie he’s so good, y-you and him make me feel so fucking good I’m going to go nnn-mmm~!” Wooyoung’s babbling was cut short by a feverish kiss, San’s hand threaded in his hair, tugging his head back as he kissed him. 

Yeosang watched the two of them, not realizing he’d left finger-sized indents on his hips as he sped up, rocking the bed as he thrusted faster into him. 

“Good. T-that’s good baby, I hear you. I’m sorry for making you wait. Hold onto Sannie. Let him ground you.” He spread his knees apart, hooking his hands around Wooyoung’s thighs, pulling him back to meet his powerful thrusts. Wooyoung cried out and shuddered, mouth falling open, eyes unfocused as Yeosang’s cock pressed even deeper.

“Yes! Yes, please, please nn hold me S-San fuck, ah!” Wooyoung clung to him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. San smiled, looking over at Yeosang, holding his gaze. 

“D-don’t think I’m leaving you out. You mm…can have my mouth, o-okay? I’m not as good as-fuck, don’t clench like that-mmmm…fuck, I’m not as good as Wooyoung but I can t-tryyyy oh fuck-” Yeosang grit his teeth, brows furrowed as Wooyoung moved his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Yeosang’s cock, eager to milk another orgasm out of him. 

“You don’t have to be Wooyoung. You just have to be you. You’re my boyfriend, too.” San let Wooyoung lean on him and scooted forward, pinning him between the two of them before kissing Yeosang, this time with a more claiming urgency in them. 

“Your mouth feels good as it is. Just…mm like you are~” he smiled. 

Yeosang shuddered, though he stilled when Wooyoung tugged at his hand, shakily muttering a ‘w-wait-’ under his breath. He paused instantly, panting like a wild animal before he looked at Wooyoung in confusion. 

“D-Did I hurt you?” He inquired. Wooyoung shook his head. 

“Mmm, no baby, I just want to ride you.” 

Yeosang felt his heart skip. He moved around to lie down, holding Wooyoung steady as he came over to straddle him, knees at either side of his hips. He purred, running his hands over Yeosang’s body. 

“Much better. Now you and I can both share Sannie’s cock. He’s been such a good kitten for us, right?” He grinned. Yeosang panted and pressed into him, groaning and letting his head fall back, licking his lips. 

“I mm…seem to remember him being a rabbit.”

Wooyoung sat fully, grinding his hips in a circle.

“He certainly fucks like one, isn’t that right, Sannie?” He purred, grinding and bouncing on his cock after getting his bearings. San scooted closer, standing beside them and yelping when the two childhood friends yanked him closer, each with a hand on his thigh. 

Yeosang leaned in first, gently rubbing his cheek along the heated length of San’s dick, nuzzling before he slowly looked up at him, eyes dark with newly unlocked want. San swallowed thickly, biting his lip when Yeosang took an experimental lick. He held his gaze and continued his licks, eventually turning into kisses that lasted longer, and longer, until he wrapped his lips around the crown of his cock. 

San shuddered, seeing Wooyoung grin wildly, his hands splayed across Yeosang’s abs, riding him at his own pace. The bed creaked and shook, though it held firm while Yeosang closed his eyes, slowly bobbing his head. He took his time, realizing he wouldn’t be able to slide San fully down his throat quite yet. San didn’t rush him, instead drawling sweet nothings to the two of them, his and finding a place on the back of Yeosang’s head. 

Not pushing, just grounding himself. 

Wooyoung purred and bent down, his chest flush against Yeosang’s, as he licked around the seal of his lips, looking up at San before leaving messy tongue kisses to the length of San’s cock Yeosang couldn’t fit, his ass still slapping against Yeosang’s thighs to the beat of some unheard song. 

The two city boys alternated between Yeosang blowing San and Wooyoung doing so, then both of them sharing a sloppy kiss with the head of San’s cock between their lips. 

All of it was…nearly desperate, uncoordinated, yet the most electrifying situation any of them had been through. 

The climax was, by all intents and purposes, messy. 

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang panted, their faces covered in San’s cum. Wooyoung sat firmly, having milked Yeosang’s second orgasm out, a pleased shudder running up and down his spine before he made a mess of Yeosang’s abdomen, a few pearls of cum even landing on his chest. 

The three took a bit longer than they were each used to to focus back on reality. When they did, Wooyoung let out a tired laugh, smiling from ear to ear. 

“There we mm…go. Holy shit if I knew that was going to go so well, I would have asked you to be our boyfriend sooner.” He chuckled. Yeosang ran a hand through his hair and laughed tiredly. 

“I…I don’t think it would have quite gone the same without all of the lead up but sure.” 

San blushed and leaned down to gently move Yeosang’s bangs out of his face, kissing at his birthmark. 

“T-Thank you. I’m sorry I made such a mess of you two. I-I’m sorry, where is the bathroom, I should clean ya up and-”

Yeosang pulled him into a kiss, shutting him up with a quiet, deep claim. When he finally broke the kiss, he purred, smiling softly. 

“Let’s take it easy. One step then the other. We can clean up with a shower, change the sheets, and we’ll be okay.” he smiled and looked over at Wooyoung, smiling at the adoring look in his eyes as he quietly ran his hands over Yeosang’s abdomen. 

“Yeah, let’s do that and hurry back. I want Yeosang in the middle tonight.” He suggested, slowly raising his hips and groaning at the mess that spilled from him. Yeosang went beet red and picked him up, arms flexing. 

“Y-You should have stayed there, y-you’re gonna make a mess!” 

“You can always put it back inside of me~”

“Shut the f-”

The two bickered as Yeosang rushed him down the hall, a chuckling San following right behind them. 

It took a while to make sure everyone-namely Wooyoung-was clean and it was made no easier in part because of the roaming hands-again, Wooyoung- but once the trio had returned and changed the sheets, they climbed back inside, situating themselves with Yeosang in the middle, his arm around Wooyoung and San’s leg tossed around his waist. 

It was…comfortable, warm. And in a weird way, the three of them slotted together like puzzle pieces. Yeosang felt gentle nibbles to his neck and glanced over at San, surprised that he found him tiredly biting and kissing him. 

“San?” 

“Mm…didn’t leave enough…mm…marks….”He trailed off, clearly nodding off. Yeosang smiled and closed his eyes, lifting his neck up. Wooyoung seemed to get the message, too, and both of them began to gently kiss and nibble at his neck.

The door opened a crack on its own, and moments later, there was the sound of audible hiffles. Yeosang glanced up and found a pair of familiar eyes staring at him. He laughed tiredly. 

“Yes, Yunho. Coast is clear. Sleep.”

The three shared tired chuckles as the bear of a dog climbed up, situating himself at the foot of the bed. 

After one last round of gentle kisses, the three fell into a comfortable night’s rest, the first one of many. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

   November 26th

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Happy birthday!”

Wooyoung smiled at the center of the table, his cheeks hurting from how much he had been smiling. San finished lighting the candles on the cake before him. Yeosang shifted from foot, anxiety reading clear on his face. 

The cake before them was something he and San had come together to make without Wooyoung’s help. Both of them were worried, but Yeosang more than him. 

He wasn’t…the greatest cook and he certainly couldn’t touch Wooyoung’s cooking. 

Eric, Gahyeon, and Jongho peeked up from the other side of the table, wiggling in their seats as Wooyoung blew his candles out. 

The was met with a series of clapping and cheers. Chaerin came over cut the cake, taking her time and handing Wooyoung the first slice of his chocolate hazelnut cake. 

They waited in anticipation while he nibbled. 

Then his eyes lit up, sparkling.

“It’s so good!” 

The two let out a relieved sigh, exchanging kisses and a smile. 

“We did it! It’s not horrible!” 

Wooyoung smiled and beckoned them closer, kissing each of them, grateful for their effort. They were surrounded by their friends and a few coworkers, and the moment the cake was cut, the music began to play, a light, whimsical atmosphere falling over the dining room. 

Two hours later, when the festivities died down, Jongho made his way over to Wooyoung, face covered in chocolate as he looked up, holding his dragon plushie close. 

“Hyung? Did you make a wish on your candle?” he inquired softly. Wooyoung blinked, having been in the middle of condensing his presents into as few boxes and bags as possible. He blushed and rubbed his head. 

“Yeah.” 

Jongho rocked back and forth on his heels.

“What did you wish for?” He inquired. 

Wooyoung looked over his shoulder, finding San petting Yunho, ruffling his fur before he stood up straight and grinned at Yeosang, kissing him before motioning to something for Yeosang to help him with in the kitchen. Wooyoung exhaled softly and stood, his hands on his hips. 

“For my love to find it’s way home. I think I got what I wished for long before I blew out those candles, though.” He ruffled Jongho’s hair and walked away, smiling from ear to ear.

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[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit Part Two ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two, three

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst, explicit smut, 'daddy' and 'babygirl' petnames, light spanking, heated physical domestic argument

x x x

Jake shot me a text as soon as he touched down in his hotel, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of our little gathering solo. I silently cleaned up the traces of the night, letting my thoughts swirl in the quiet aftermath. Shouldn't I be on cloud nine? Chris, I assumed, had already landed by now, maybe snagging his stuff from the baggage claim. Why the resistance to me picking him up? Couldn't he save some cash and avoid those Uber headaches? As I mulled over Jake's words from our earlier chat, a wave of guilt washed over me. If someone messed with my career, I'd probably cut ties too. 

But did it have to be face-to-face? 

Suddenly, two knocks jarred me, throwing my dogs into their usual frenzy of barks. Now? It felt too soon, like breaking a speed record from airport to doorstep, factoring in landing, baggage, and Uber waits. My motion light, unnoticed until now, flickered on as I was lost in thought. My palms got a little clammy as I fished out my phone, checking for messages from a friend dropping by. But all my friends were back in my hometown. 

Unscheduled visits are a rarity out here, that’s part of the reason why I picked such an isolated home. 

Scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang out, setting my pets into a louder commotion. Activating the security camera app, I saw Chris on the screen—dark hoodie, black beanie, and chill gray sweats. Hands in his pockets, a visible exhale, like he'd been holding his breath. Just one piece of luggage, small enough to be a carryon. Skipping baggage claim altogether, I guessed. 

Maybe he didn't want to risk airport paparazzi, but at this hour, it'd be a ghost town anyway. 

I unlocked the door, slower than planned, giving it a cautious swing open. Stepping back, I left room for him to enter, the question of how to react buzzing in my head. Hug him? Kiss him? Do a little happy dance? God this is awkward. Chris sniffed, a hint of red on his nose, and began shedding his shoes and beanie, shaking out his curly hair. He looked wiped, but it had been ages since I'd seen him without the makeup mask.    His eyes told the tale of tiredness, the faint shadow under barely-there brows, and the shifts in his skin tone—all untouched by the glam squad. Even a touch of facial hair peeked through, a secret sign of the real guy behind the polished pretty boy image, something he religiously stayed on top of. All the things that make him very human.  The things not many people get to see. 

"What changed?" I threw the question at him, arms crossed in the entryway. Our eyes connected for the first time since he rolled in. I caught a flicker in his right eye, a giveaway of stress and insomnia. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, a nervous move, just enough to reveal a hint of his dimple near his mouth's corner. 

Undeterred, I pressed on, "Channie—" 

His eyebrows pulled together instinctively, a tough look in his eyes. "Don't call me that," he shot back, a stern expression etched on his face. 

Frustration bubbled up, my voice amped up involuntarily, control slipping away. 

"What the fuck is your problem? What? Did you catch a red-eye just to come argue with me?" 

"Yes! I caught a red-eye fucking flight to—"    Chris cut himself off mid-sentence, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, muttering something under his breath in Korean. He ran his hand down his face, eyes closed, releasing a breath before locking eyes with me again. The anger lingered, but it was transforming into something I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

I could feel hot tears threatening, but I held them back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, refusing to show any weakness. Was this the end? 

"Of course, I hopped on a flight to have it out with you. Isn't that what you wanted?"    “Don’t you gaslight me Christopher Bang, I’m not your little fucking fans–” 

He looked exasperated, hands out, "What do my fans have to do with this?! You said it's simple, am I coming or not? I'm here, just like you wanted, because it's all about you, isn't it?" 

I turned away, striding off, the red haze building within me. I wanted to lay into him for talking out the side of his neck like this, but I wouldn't stoop to that level. His voice echoed down the hall. 

"Yeah, walk away. It's your specialty—running away." 

I halted, closing my eyes, back turned to him, grappling with the urge. I fought it hard; he was on the brink of hitting below the belt. Logic eluded me at this moment. 

"I'm going to smoke before I physically violate you." 

Attempting to walk away again, his footsteps echoed behind me. Chris wasn't the type to follow for an argument—that was typically my role. I expected him to detour to the kitchen for a drink or something, anything other than what he actually did. His hand seized my forearm, yanking me hard enough to turn me three-quarters around. I saw red, wind knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall, caged between his big, loud hands thudding against the wall beside my head. A flinch—a moment of confusion. Had he struck me? 

Quickly assessing, no parts of my body ached except between my shoulder blades from the impact. 

Breathing heavier than anticipated, Chris mirrored the sentiment. 

"Physically violate me, then," he uttered, his voice dangerously low, just above a whisper. My body was confused, my brain a tangled mess. His intense gaze bore into my face, forcing me to look away. He tilted his head, compelling eye contact once more. 

"It's not rocket science, Y/N." 

The phrase echoed from our earlier phone argument, reigniting my hostility. I raised my head, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze. "I hate you," I snarled, trying to slip underneath his arm to free myself. Chris wasn't having it; he gripped my wrist behind my back, pressing my chest against the wall. His muscular frame kept me in place, his chest against my back. I twisted my wrist, but he tightened his hold. His breath grazed my shoulder, his words so close to my ear it felt like he was feeding them straight into my brain. 

"I hate you too, baby," he murmured. His free hand ghosted the tendrils of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail, tender and gentle unlike the firm grip on my wrist. As his fingers swept the hair away, soft lips pressed against my skin, eliciting a sigh from my lips. Each kiss left thorns of heat, moving along my neck, down to my shoulder. 

"I hate you," I repeated, losing my edge. 

"Mmm, shut up—I know," Chris replied.    Finally, he releases me, his hands finding their way to my waist beneath my baggy sweatshirt. Despite being in my home for a few minutes, his touch is still cold against my warmed skin. I feel a shiver as my nipples harden, and he seems to sense it, cupping them, squeezing. My knees almost buckle as I lean back, my head perfectly resting on his shoulder. Our bodies intertwine, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. His fingers pinch the pebbled flesh, drawing a moan from me and an audible sigh from him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel his hardness against my backside. It's not a gradual thing; he's already rock stiff, hips grinding into me as his hands explore my body with a passionate messiness. 

What were we arguing about again?    Lust swirls, making me dizzy with how good my body feels. My eyes lose focus and regain it with every recovery breath as he squeezes at the extra padding on my hips and waist. No part of my body goes untouched, and I try to shake off my reservations.     No, that was a hang-up of mine.    Christopher Bang is here to touch, lick, and squeeze every inch that belongs to him. 

A tap on my hip brings me back to reality—a gentle reminder between us whenever things heat up in unconventional places. 

Against-the-wall activities are actually pretty uncomfortable in real life. 

Who knew? 

He takes my hand, and I follow him like an excited puppy, almost stumbling over myself to reach his body once we get to the couch. It's my turn now; my hands have a mind of their own too, you know. 

Such a soft face without makeup, I'd almost forgotten the hardness of his body—had it become even more solid? My hands run over his abdomen, feeling something different—less lean, more meaty. Usually, I go straight for what's mine, but now I'm curious. Gripping the bottom of his hoodie, I can sense the muscle shirt underneath, so I yank them both off, the scent of his body wash, cologne, and deodorant hitting me all at once, etching the experience into my mind on nearly every sensory level, except for... 

Taste. 

As his clothes drop to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet, he turns to face me. His skin is less milky, more sandy tan, and wheat-colored under my warm lights, unlike the artificial ones he's usually bathed in. He must've soaked up the sun in LA, and I can still see it reddening in the places where blood has surged the quickest. 

He's completely under the spell of carnal sensuality—deep in the well, unable to see anything around him, becoming the parts of himself he wouldn't dare confront in the daylight. I notice because I pay attention to things like that—I see the way he looks at me, as if I'm his most treasured plaything. His mannerisms change, slower, with certainty in every touch. He says things you wouldn't dare repeat once he's back to his Earth self, lest he deny, deny, deny, laughing loudly overtop of you, or cringing away from embarrassment. 

Yes, as I drop slowly to my knees, watching him, I see the way he stands in his masculinity, divine, a god in his own right. Just when I think the moment can't get any hotter or I might combust, I hear him—a puff of air through his nose, a lazy, almost entertained, but not quite—chuckle. His lip quirks ever so slightly upwards. 

"You hate me?" 

Heat radiates from my body; I'm certain I'm letting off steam at this point. I feel it, especially in my face, fingers wrapped in the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging loosely as I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, feeling regret building up in me. I can tell by the way he says it that he never believed it—but still... 

"I didn't think so," Chris' voice answers the unspoken questions in my head. His fingers graze the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him. "Look at me while you do it." 

My engine roars to life without hesitation. I tighten my grip on his sweats, yanking them down with determination. He kicks them off, backing up to sit on the couch, but I'm not waiting. I take the caramel-colored, thick head of his dick between my lips, halting his retreat. The sweetness of his precum floods my mouth, turning bitter as it reaches the back of my tongue and throat. Flattening my tongue against the bottom of his girthy shaft, I open my mouth, letting him rub his sensitive, unsheathed tip against the warm, back wall of my throat. 

Obediently watching him. 

He likes that, making it clear by placing his hand on the back of my head, urging me to stay while he thrusts further, pulling out just a centimeter to plunge into my throat. Small gasps escape his lips every time my gag reflex spasms around him. I run out of breath, choking backward, and he lifts his hand, allowing me to right myself. 

"C'mon, babygirl—thaaaat's it—fuck." Chris grips what's left of my ponytail, guiding me back onto his dick, all the way to the back, with no true mercy. A few more tiny thrusts, and I'm coughing again, my mouth and jaw drenched with slippery saliva mixed with the constant ooze of his precum. He glances behind him, ensuring his seating, then lets himself fall back onto the couch, hand tangled in my thick hair as I wrap both hands around his cock—a pretty, deep brown, a stark contrast to his body tone. 

When I start focusing on stroking his sensitive tip, he drops his head back, emitting the most delicious groan. Pulling back on his sheath, dribbling spit onto his tip, I begin jerking him again, taking advantage of the smoothness the extra skin provides. I follow with my mouth, taking in whatever my hands can't reach, and when I start with the suction, another groan escapes him—this time, broken, his hips rising a little off the couch, encouraging me to keep going. 

"Oh God—that feels fucking—incredible; don't you—fucking stop."    His chest moves with each gasp as I twirl my hand a certain way. I try to stay consistent, but it's been a while, and my neck strains from the bobbing, lips growing numb. But fuck, he's so hot; I don't wanna stop. 

I engage in a slow rhythm, savoring the silky feeling of his dickhead against my swollen mouth and eager lips, pressing loud, wet kisses against it. He's lifted his gaze to watch, and I seize the opportunity to run my tongue along his length, exploring the prominent ridge beneath. 

"Oh my God—" His head drops back, words and vowels drawn out in ecstasy. 

I lean back on my heels, hands taking charge, a twist here, a firm grasp there. When I lean forward and start slurping again, with all intentions of taking this man’s soul—his hips withdraw, and he halts me with a breathless, "Fuck," sounding like he just finished a sprint. "You almost made me cum," He taps my shoulder twice, a signal we both understand, prompting another switch in our silent dance. 

I’m more than happy to obey, feeling how wet I’ve become when he pulls my sweats off as I climb onto the couch on my knees, my arms resting on the head of it that rests against the wall.   I can feel his hands, now warm, even hot almost against my ass as he spreads me open.  I curl my fingers into the couch with anticipation, and then comes the feeling of both of his fingers entering me first.  I let out an eager moan, reveling in the relief and satisfaction of being touched by someone so skillfully.  He’s curling two fingers, stroking my spot, I can feel his pinky and index splayed against my juicy, wet pussy lips.  The filthy sounds amplify as he increases the pressure, prompting me to move against his touch, the base of his hand firmly against my asshole. 

“Mmm, baby, you know how much daddy loves to eat this pretty little cunt—but the way you’re clenching around my fingers, fuck I—I gotta feel you.”  Chris slows down, he speaks again, reminding me of his proposition, “Is that alright babygirl? Hm? Can daddy fuck you now?” 

“Mhm, Mhm!” I can’t think straight, why was he asking? Of course he could fuck me ten ways from Tuesday in a handstand for all I care!  Just— 

“Fuck me.” I beg, unsure if I meant to finish that thought out loud. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” The weight of his knee presses onto my leg, his foot securing his position against my other thigh, his thumb against my asshole as I begin to feel his dick stretching me open, eliciting the weirdest, downright feral sound from deep within my gut. He’s raw, and I swore I could feel every vein, every ridge, and his head passing through every sensitive quadrant of my pussy until his balls tickled the lips covering my entrance.  It was then that my walls squeeze around him, desperate to feel him move.  I could almost make myself cum just like that—I begin moving against him, caught in the intensity of the moment, like a cat in heat, and he’s so deep, I feel him in places that make my eyes flutter. 

Thumb leaving my sensitive hole, Chris takes firm hold of the sides of my tummy, rutting into my heat, sending a shiver through my spine that puts me into an arch. He seizes the chance to hold the front of my neck, adjusting me for a slower, more profound connection, exploring every inch of me.  It takes a lot of stamina in the legs for this—of course he’s got that.  I rest my hand on his thigh beside me, feeling the firmness, digging my nails in as I grit my teeth together, the pleasure overwhelming me as our bodies, beginning to get slick with the fluids between us, rock desperately against one another. 

I'm released, and I lurch forward, barely snagging myself on the top of the couch. Just then, I sense it against my left hip— 

 tap tap 

My vision snaps back into focus as I hear him breathing as heavily as I am, flopping down onto the couch. I take the lead, hovering over him. We both gaze as his dick is swallowed up by my pussy, inch by beautiful inch.    I let out an incoherent sound, a mix of a grunt and a moan, my arm draped over his shoulder, fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck as he thrusts. My touch shifts from gentle exploration to grabbing fistfuls of his thick, silky, curly hair at the base of his skull. Using my knees for stability, I sync with his rhythm, adding those addictive hip circles that set every part of me ablaze like a pinball machine. The alarms blare, the lights flash – this, right here, is my favorite way to connect with Chris, where we're on an equal playing field. 

As we delve deeper into each other's gaze, the intensity heightens, but there's always a moment when one of us surrenders, head lolling back, eyes rolling together. His hands work my hips in rhythmic circles, like a baker kneading dough on a board. Yet, I sense when he's had his fill as he takes back control, lifting me up and snapping his hips into me at speeds that defy reality. My cries become a constant stream, shameless screams of his name, erratic and desperate. 

"Yeah, thaat's it—"    I can feel my walls softening as my body begins to literally feel like it's filling up with water that’s threatening to consume me any second now.  I’m gasping, trying to form the words to tell him I’m almost there, that he can’t stop, or even slow up, he’s got to keep going, I’m certain if I don’t get there, I’m going to die. 

“D-Daddy, don’t—” I can’t say anything else, I can only hope he gets it. 

And he does. 

Chris always gets it. 

“Gonna stop---all your bitching, hm?”  He’s holding my waist to allow me the freedom to focus on my impending orgasm. “Gonna let me do my fucking job from now on, yeah?”    “Mm--yeah!”      “Say it,”    “Chris!” I whimper in protest, “I’mma s-stop fucking---bitching!” 

“That’s my girl.”    He slaps my ass, sending a shock through my body, but before I can recover, he strikes again, and again, and my body becomes quickly hyperstimulated. I start letting go, my breath held hostage in my chest as Chris lets out a stream of curses, hitting his peak and spilling inside of me.  I can feel it, it’s carrying my climax out even further, and when I finally collapse, with him still inside, I can feel my entire body buzzing, and I’m muttering something that doesn’t make sense to myself or him. 

We're both catching our breath, heart rates settling down, but Chris finds joy in this aftermath. He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my lower back, exploring the dimples above my tailbone.    "What are you saying?" he asks. 

"I love you. I love you, and I never want us to breakup. Ever," I say, more composed now, my cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, the pull of sleep threatening to take over like it always did after a proper orgasm. His arms wrap around me, securing them with a grasp on his own wrist. I feel a sense of security. 

"I love you too. I didn't come all this way to break up with you," he reassures me. I lift my head, likely with my hair wild and untamed. 

"Really, Channie?" 

He laughs.  The nickname is cleared for use again. He kisses my lips.

"Of course not. Why would I cross the country just to break up with someone? That seems like a lot of...effort," Chris continues. He tilts his head back to gaze at me, tucking his chin in. Once he sees my focused attention, he looks ahead as he talks. "I want to be with you, or I wouldn't have made you my girl—" 

"You didn't," I interrupt, sitting up. I pull away from his lap, wrapping the knitted throw over myself as I nestle into the couch beside him. 

He looks puzzled, "I didn't? Really?" He shrugs, raising his brows. "I always thought you were." 

The relief floods in. 

So, we were on the same page. 

Curiosity takes over, and I inquire, "When did you start thinking of me as your girlfriend?" 

"Mm." Chris looks up in thought before locking eyes with me again. "The first time we had sex." 

I'm taken aback by the memory. It wasn't a smooth ride, ended up in a heated argument. "When I got caught outside the building after our studio session? Chris, you almost jeopardized your whole career after that." 

Chris tugs at the blanket's end, and I hand it over. As he slides underneath, he takes my foot into his lap, rubbing circles into the center. "That's not how it works—don't get me wrong, it was... difficult. It still is, which is why I couldn't just decide to show up when you asked. I've been allowed, by contract, to date for a few years now." 

"Then why are we sneaking around like you're ashamed of me or something?" I hug the blanket tighter, feeling exposed. 

Chris seems thrown by this revelation. "Ashamed of you for what? You're beautiful, talented. I don't—did I give you that impression, babygirl?" He shakes his head. "I'm protecting you. You've just been signed to a major label, and we've got a good thing going, yeah? Why mess it up now when we can wait for things to level out for the both of us?" 

He makes some valid points. It's reassuring to hear he's not ashamed of me. I start to feel the familiar peace his presence brings. It's been four months since we were last in the same country, let alone the same city. I grew impatient after he came in on business and then left again, making excuses not to see me. That's why this time, I escalated it and added pressure. 

"Level out, what does that mean?" I ask. Chris sits back, mindlessly running his thumb over the pads of my toes while looking at the coffee table's candle. 

"I think we'll know once we both get there." He looks up to me. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I wish I had a better answer for you right now." He sounds sincere enough. I believe him. He's given me no reason not to trust him before, right? His fingers stop on my soles, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see something better. He leans forward, picking up the knitted beanie near the ashtray. 

My heart drops when I realize what it is. 

But why? I didn't do anything wrong.    RIght? 

"This new?" He turns it around on his hand. "Where'd you get it? I like it." 

Caught in the moment, I blurt, "A gift." I reach forward, taking it before he can spot any stray hair that doesn't match mine. He's not checking that closely, at least not yet. I turn it over in my hands. "I've been keeping it cold in the house, so it helps keep me warm," I say, tossing it onto the beanbag chair. I turn to him, nudging his shoulder as I scoot closer. 

"Sooo, how was KCON?"  - fin

[missgryffin]

Accidental Magic 🪄

A @jilymicrofics using all of the May word prompts. Also, a special shout-out and thank you to @redrobyn285 for sending me the prompt "accidental magic 🪄" which turned out to be a perfect title for this fic 😘 2.3k words. Rated T for language. Read below & on AO3.

A soft knock on the door to the prefects’ lounge echoes around the empty room. 

“Yeah,” she grits, wand in her teeth as she pins the next month’s patrol calendar to the notice board.

Focused as she is on her task, she doesn’t even register the footsteps behind her until a hand appears from somewhere over her shoulder to hold the pesky falling corner of the parchment in place. Her skin bristles, throat closing with nerves. She’d recognize that hand—that wrist, that fucking rolled sleeve—anywhere.

Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, Lily focuses her attention on swiftly pinning the other corners of the calendar so she can take her wand back out of her mouth and say, “What are you doing here?” 

(It is, after all, no longer Friday night but early Saturday morning, and the prefects’ lounge isn’t anywhere near Gryffindor Tower, where she’d last known him to be helping his mates set up for a common room party with a few crates of alcohol they’d mysteriously procured.)

She has no other choice but to turn around and face him, so she does—and finds her nose mere inches from his chest. 

James quietly clears his throat and takes a small step back, hands stuffing into his pockets. “I, uh…wanted to talk to you.” 

Foreboding rises in her chest, and before she can get out a smart-arse remark about him stalking her with that damned map he and his friends made, he adds with a little smirk, “About Charms.”

Uncomfortable heat pricks at her neck—he knows—but she feigns calm aloofness as she asks, “How’s Cressida?”

He shrugs—“Fine”—and Lily makes to skirt around him, but his hand darts from his pocket to close lightly around her wrist. 

“Lily, c’mon.” 

She meets his eyes, bronze in the blazing light of the hearth. After building a sort of quasi-friendship with him in sixth and now working with him as head students in seventh, she’s learned how to read James Potter. His expressions, his humor, his moods. And though she thinks he’s a little annoyed with her just then, he also seems mostly…amused?

“What?” She nods toward the grandfather clock nestled atop the room’s random wardrobe, painfully aware of how he’s still holding onto her. “It’s dawn in a few hours. Don’t you have a date you need to be rested for?”

Fleeting surprise—parted lips, raised brows—settles into a dimpling smirk. “Actually, no,” he quips, finally dropping her hand to cross his arms over his chest. “Seeing as my date’s being kept in the hospital wing this weekend, that’s been, ah, cancelled.” 

Her mouth opens, closes, before saying lamely, “Oh.” After a beat of silence, she remembers her manners. “That’s…unfortunate.” 

He pulls his lips under with a little hum. 

She doesn’t particularly want to ask—she’d really rather leave this conversation and forget it ever happened—but she’s so uneasy that she can’t bear not knowing. 

“If, um…if she’s fine, then…why is Pomfrey keeping her?”

James fixes her with a direct sort of look and then says, with the hint of a chuckle, “Because you inflated her to the size of Hagrid.”

Her stomach drops, nerves twisting uneasily through her body. 

“You might’ve set a record,” he goes on, as casual as if he’s recounting the day’s homework as he settles on the edge of the arm of a nearby sofa. “’S far as I know, no one’s ever been ballooned that bad in class—” 

“I didn’t—”

James ignores her, shrugging as he continues nonchalantly, “Her earwax is messed up, or something—didn’t deflate properly, I dunno, Pomfrey wants to watch her—”

Guilt roils her insides. The image of elegant, graceful Cressida Clearwater, a Ravenclaw in their year, inflating like a balloon with an inhuman shriek had haunted her since it happened earlier that afternoon. And what made it all the worse was the knowledge that, the moment before Cressida started to inflate, Lily had felt her inner turmoil boil over into a spurt of unintended magic. 

“No one suspects, by the way. Even Amelia’s convinced she accidentally cast the Inflating Charm by mistake.” His brow wrinkles in thought. “Not sure how she thinks she did that, mind, the wand movement of a Bubble-head Charm’s totally different...” 

Her jaw clenches, nails digging into her palms, as her mind races and wars over how to respond to all this.

“Anyway.” James’s voice softens as he says, “You know, you went so pale, I was actually more concerned about you dropping in a dead faint than I was about Cress floating toward the ceiling.”

An entirely uncouth snort bursts out of her nose, and she hastily slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling the inappropriate giggles threatening to bubble up. 

James chuckles lightly with her before adding, “And then when you didn’t look like you were going to faint anymore, you...looked like you were trying not to cry.” 

She doesn’t know what it is. The openness on his face, like he’s more curious than judgmental. The way he’s read her, seen her, so thoroughly. The fact that it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning. The shame that’s been eating at her since class, all the worse for how she’s spent the past week mourning the possibility of a relationship she’d only recently started to hope for. The bizarrely rebellious urge, after holding her feelings in for so long, to just lay them all bare. 

For whatever reason, the truth spills out: “I didn’t mean to.”

His face betrays his surprise. 

Unable to look at him, she watches her wringing hands as she explains, “I didn’t…actually cast anything. I just—Mary and I were next to her and Amelia, and I could hear their conversation, and I was so…”  Jealous. Heartbroken. Angry. She shakes her head, refocusing herself. “I just...lost control, I guess. And the next thing I know, she was…” Her words trail off with a little wave, but he knows what happened next. 

A slight furrow creases his brow. “You were so what?” 

She blinks. “What?”

“You said, I was so, but then you didn’t say what you were.” 

Why does he have to be so fucking detail oriented? 

“Well, I—I lost control.” 

He only arches a disbelieving brow and presses, “For no reason?” 

Lily rolls her eyes, trying to maintain a cool facade despite being uncomfortably hot under the pin of his gaze, and asks, exasperated, “What does it matter? It was an accident.”

For the first time in this whole exchange, James looks genuinely irritated as he gazes distantly into the fire across the room, jaw tensing—and it twists her insides even more. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, words stumbling over themselves. “I mean it, James. Obviously you were looking forward to tomorrow, and you have every right to be angry—” 

“I’m not—” His jaw flexes with frustration, and he gives a little shake of his head. “I’m not angry that the date’s off.” 

She frowns, not following. “Then—”

He pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses, eyes closing with an exasperated sigh as he mutters, “I’m angry at myself.”

Lily waits, expecting him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t—when he just watches her with that melancholy bronze stare—she prompts, “I—I don’t—”

But James only slumps forward, elbows resting on his knees as his hands rake through his hair.

“James—”

“I wanted it to mean something.” 

The words are spoken so quietly she barely hears them, yet they root her where she stands. 

He’s staring at his folded hands, resolutely not looking up in her direction, and his voice sounds like it’s on the edge of cracking as he continues, “I thought...I could tell it was you, and I didn’t know if it was a dare, or a prank, or what, but I thought—I wanted—it to mean you…” 

Her heart slams against her ribcage; every part of her body tenses, waiting. 

He shakes his head, exhales, “Never mind,” as he pushes to his feet, and then strides past her. 

She grabs his wrist with a reflexiveness that surprises herself, stalling him at her side. His skin there is smooth, warm, and the contact scatters butterflies up and down her limbs. She doesn’t even intend on telling him, doesn’t think through whether she should; her sole thought in that moment is simply, don’t leave, and the byproduct of that is her mouth spills, “Your date.” 

His stillness tells her he’s listening. 

“Cressida and Amelia, they were talking about…” She swallows, tongue thick now that she’s fully aware of what she’s confessing. “About your date. How excited she was that you said yes. Where she thought you’d go. How she planned on letting you…” She gulps again. “Erm…snog her. If you tried.” 

It had been the straw that had, quite literally, broken something in her. After months of building a rapport with him that felt like it had been skewing more flirty than friendly; after weeks spent accepting the swirl of lust and attraction that the mere sight of him stirs in her body; after the initial blow of him accepting a date with someone else (news that caused her, humiliatingly, to knock over her mug and slosh coffee all over her lap at breakfast), and then the inescapable ache that followed as the publicity of that date grained traction…

Well. Hearing Cressida subtly brag about the, ahem, action she expected to follow her date with James—after days of the hope Lily had been tending getting pummeled to mush—had snapped the last thread of self-control Lily had. 

She peeks up at him; he’s already gazing down at her, a thoughtful expression painting his face.

“And that…” he starts, eyes searching hers. “You said you were so…” 

Tears well out of nowhere, just enough to sting. She blinks rapidly, looking anywhere but his face. Really, the irony of falling for him once he didn’t have feelings for her anymore is punishment enough—he wants her to admit to them, too? For what, pride? Ego? So he can report back to Cressida when he visits her in the hospital wing later? 

His hand slides into hers. “Please,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

Her chest burns, heart jumping amidst the choking haze of all the shame, guilt, hurt, and confusion swirling there—and it makes her sound defensive, foolish, as she snaps thickly, “What, that I was jealous?” 

It doesn’t make an ounce of sense, but everything in his face softens just then, and that sexy little half-smile she’s come to adore is now aimed at her. 

“Yeah,” he answers, and she hears the hint of that signature James Potter smugness back in his voice; it makes the knife that he lodged in her heart when he said yes to Cressida twist for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“Why?” Her words taste bitter. “What difference does it make?” 

“Wh—” He scoffs, disbelieving, and she yanks her hand out of his. “Lily—”

“It’s hard enough,” she chokes out, the sight of him blurring through her welling tears, “to watch you go out with her and pretend like it doesn’t bother me, we really don’t need to talk about it—” 

James cuts her off—“No, we do”—and recaptures her hand, this time threading their fingers together. She looks at them, entwined like they belong to fit this way, and isn’t sure she’s ever felt her skin ache for someone like this. 

“I thought,” he says gently, “that you just wanted to…y’know. Be friends. I mean, I wondered, if you fancied me back, but…” 

Lily’s heart flips at that phrase—fancied me back—and she stares, hanging on his every word with bated breath.

A blush dusts his cheeks as he gives a little shake of his head. “It just seemed like you…only wanted to be friends, so…” 

She swallows hard. “I...thought you only wanted to be friends.” 

He peers down at her, gaze soft. “No,” he whispers, eyes lowering meaningfully to her mouth. 

Her head swirls, dizzy, giddy, from the turn this moment’s taken. She drifts closer, then tucks her wand into the back pocket of her jeans so she can slide her free hand up his chest, deliciously solid under the soft flannel he’s wearing over a thin Montrose Magpies t-shirt. His forefinger hooks gently under her chin, tilting her face toward his. This close, she can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Wordlessly, she curls her fingers into a fist of fabric at his chest to anchor herself, and then she pushes up onto her tiptoes and brushes her lips over his. 

In her weeks of coming to terms with having feelings for him, Lily had daydreamed aplenty about kissing James: what it would be like, the different scenarios in which it could happen. The real thing is unlike every expectation.

He’s not showy, not putting on a grand gesture, not leading with the commanding authority she’s grown used to seeing him wield on the Quidditch pitch and in the corridors. Instead, he’s tender. Almost…shy. He holds her face with the delicacy of handling rare porcelain, and the press of his lips back against hers is so soft that the faint scratch of his evening shadow tickles instead of burns. She smiles against his mouth, and James rests his forehead on hers, hands letting go from where they hold onto her only to wrap her in a hug around her waist. 

Her heart swells. 

“Do you feel this?” he asks, breathless. 

She knows instantly what he means: there’s a charge between them, something fluttering hotly under her skin, like a current that swept them up the moment they waded just close enough. If she had her wand in her hand just then, she wouldn’t be surprised to find it glowing.

“Yeah,” she whispers back, arms looping tightly around his neck. “I feel it, too.”

[something-tofightfor]

The Truth Is Out There: Soft Light

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Art Conservator/Restoration Specialist FBI Agent

Word Count: 2,785

Chapter Rating: NSFW - Explicit! (lots of sexual content. language. continued accidental drug use/effects, Marcus in this state is his own damn warning)

Series Warnings: Sex Pollen (with a twist), no use of Y/N, female reader insert, Reader works for the FBI in art restoration/conservation and has a nickname that is used often by Marcus. In this house we cannot stand Teresa and Jane and that is reflected in this story.

Summary: You and Marcus continue to experience the effects of the Lapis ... and neither of you will complain about what it’s making possible. 

Author’s Note: Another short one - but this is packed with good stuff. Enjoy. 

Inbox is open, as always. Come talk about Marcus with me!

Masterlist / Unrequited / One Breath / The Truth / This Is Not Happening / Three Words

The man’s eyes rolled back as he shut them, both fingers disappearing into his mouth so he could suck them clean. Oh, fuck. Your lips parted as you watched, and when he pulled them free, you swallowed hard at the sight of his damp skin. “Sweet.” He wet his lips, opening his eyes and seeking yours before he said anything else. “You taste sweet.” Bullshit, but I’ll take it. 

You expected him to reach for the box of condoms on the table, but when Marcus didn’t, instead leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours while he gripped the pillows beneath your head, you sighed again, both hands going to his hips. “Marcus.” He shifted his position, straddling your body - but he didn’t pull his head back. 

There wasn’t an opportunity for you to speak again before he began to rock his hips, the weight of him sliding over your lower belly and the slick space between your thighs. He was breathing hard, hot air escaping him in short bursts and hitting you with each of his movements. And you touched him without shame - both hands caressing his skin, fingers dimpling it when you urged him to drag against you instead of thrust. 

You bent your knees and lifted your hips, providing more friction - and then it was Marcus’ turn to gasp as he was caught off guard, a spurt of warmth coating your lower belly and dripping down, even as he kept moving. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I -” He began to pant, turning his head to rest his temple against yours. “I didn’t want to -” 

“Be quiet.” You whispered the words, hands still on Marcus. “Don’t apologize.” He hummed as you groaned against his ear, your body still moving to meet Marcus’ as he kept going, too. You’d both come - Marcus spilling all over your skin and the evidence of your pleasure sticky between your legs, but it hadn’t made a difference in the way you felt. It’s starting to hurt. I need him, and …  

He was still just as hard as he had been before, and you were nowhere near sated. “Tell me what you want me to do now.” His voice low, Marcus kissed the corner of your eye. “Tell me what you need.”

“You.” Arching your back, you trapped him between your bellies, Marcus freezing in place at the added pressure. “I need you.” The mattress shifted with his movement as he groped for the box, and you heard the sound of it tearing open. But you didn’t see it because your eyes were tightly shut, your hands pressed against the curve of his lower back and hip. “Marcus, please.” 

When he pushed upward so that he was kneeling again, you let yourself sag against the mattress, one hand sliding over your stomach and lower, your fingers moving through the mess he’d left there. Swirling them in a slow circle, you shifted your hips, finally opening your eyes and finding Marcus staring down at you, one side of his mouth lifted in an almost smirk. “Do you want to keep touching yourself?” He trailed off, arching a brow. “Or do you want to see what I can do?” 

“I’m yours, Marcus.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, but once they’d been uttered, you had no desire to take them back. He hadn’t been expecting them, though, shock overtaking his features while he watched you, the motion of his hand slowing almost to a stop with his fingers firmly wrapped around himself. I mean it. “All yours.” 

It was the truth - drug or no drug. 

You’d been out on dates and gone to bed with other men since you’d dated Marcus. It was a poor attempt at doing whatever you could to push the man out of your head because you’d thought that it was necessary. But even though your experience with Marcus Pike was limited, you knew that it would take something monumental to compare to what you’d felt when you were with him - and what you still felt, even as only his friend. 

You heard the rip of foil, and then lowered your gaze to watch as he rolled the condom over himself, his teeth gritted at the sensation. “I’m going to try to be gentle with you, Scully, but I can’t promise anything. I -”

“Just fuck me, Marcus.” You spat the words out, your tone even more needy and desperate than it had been earlier, eyes rising to meet his again. “I don’t need gentle. Not right now.” Your body felt like it was on fire, the slow simmer sparking over your skin, though it was much more intense where he was touching you. “Please.” 

Any other day, you would have been embarrassed that you were begging, especially when Marcus had already been more than attentive. You would have hated the way you’d spoken to him - such a crass way to admit for the first time that you wanted Marcus no matter how you could have him. What you said and wanted was the truth, but you hadn’t planned on telling Marcus so much so quickly. 

“Please?” He let out a shaky breath as he moved his hand again, still staring at you. “Please?” You whimpered at the sound of his voice, fingers dipping lower and skating over your skin, even though they didn’t linger. I didn’t think he’d be like this but it’s… “Well, since you asked so nicely…” He rolled his neck out, briefly closing his eyes. “Of course.” 

Marcus urged your thighs apart with a gentle nudge of one knee, inching closer as soon as you made it possible. He said your name just before he glanced down, your gaze following his to focus on the way he guided himself into place, adjusting his knees to give himself a better position. 

He hitched your leg up and over his hip and then leaned in, inhaling as he rocked forward. It took you by surprise, his answering grin enough to keep you grounded -and focused on him.

But you also felt relief as Marcus slid into you for the first time, the man bracing himself above you, the comforter fisted in both large hands. “Holy shit, Marcus.” This is better than anything I imagined.

You clawed at his body, gasping when he stopped and pulled back. There was a short pause and then he thrust forward and buried himself in you, the motion forcing an exhale that was followed by his name, Marcus grunting in reply as it spilled past your lips. Tightening your grip on him, your focus was torn between each thrust and the way his skin rippled over the muscle in his lower back. 

With every stroke, Marcus shattered a small part of what was left of your resolve. The motion of his hips was smooth and rhythmic but forceful, sliding the two of you up the mattress and toward the headboard a little at a time. “Whoops.” He backed off and stared down at you, hips slowing. “You alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Flexing your hips upward, you met him halfway, one hand traveling up and over his back. “You?” 

“I’ll be even better in a few minutes.” Pulling back, Marcus swiveled his hips in a lazy circle, breathing slowly. “And so will you.” He began moving faster again and you bent both legs so that you could brace your feet on the mattress to keep yourself steady. It wasn’t quite a brutal pace, but you panted with each motion, Marcus filling you over and over. 

You held tight to his shoulders, urging his upper body closer to yours. Marcus let you, one of his arms extending beneath the pillow you were laying on so that he could put some weight on that elbow. It also put his mouth in the proximity of yours, but you only managed one quick kiss before he was panting into your ear, the sound a welcome one. 

“Want this. Want you.” He groaned, the sound a reaction to the way your fingers dug into his shoulders. “Want us.” You cried out at that, a wail that was accompanied with the lift of your hips from the bed, meeting him halfway and forcing him deeper. 

It didn’t matter that it was the Lapis doing the talking for him. It didn’t matter that it had taken him months and the fear of losing you for good to finally make him admit what he truly wanted. In that moment, it was everything you wanted to hear, and before you could stop yourself, you were replying - the words a surprise to both of you, though they were no less true. 

“I knew it.” You rolled your hips as he paused, trying to catch his breath. “Want that too.” He sped up again, the movement of his hips pressing your lower body into the mattress and giving you very little room to react. Instead, you spread your legs wider, the one remaining hooked around him. “Fuck, Marcus, this is perfect.”  

He came then, the man’s cry muffled by the way he turned his head toward your neck, warm breath caressing your skin even as his lips made contact. You could feel him pulsing within you - the motion of his hips stilled aside from short, erratic jerking as he emptied into the condom. Please. Please let me come too. Let it feel better. You hummed, your hold on him loosening as you stroked over his back with your fingertips. 

But you weren’t close - and he seemed to know it, finally backing off enough so that he could look down at you, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. “I’m still fucking …” He groaned, closing his eyes. “Still hard. I’m sorry, I -” Marcus shook his head, swearing under his breath. “I need -” 

“I know.” His hips were moving again, slower than before but still enough that you could feel it, your body reacting without pause. “Get a new one on and come back, Marcus. I need you.” 

That was all it took - the man pushing upright and then reaching between you as he pulled out, his eyes only leaving your face when they had to. You felt empty without him - your spread legs falling limp onto the mattress along with your arms as your chest heaved. 

You kept your eyes on him as he inched backward and off of the bed, licking your lips as he pulled the condom free and tied it off, his large hand once again wrapping around his length. Marcus groaned at the contact, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. “I feel like I could do this all night.” He sounded almost broken when he spoke, the words pouring out. “But there’s no way. We can’t. You can’t. I can’t.” 

“We can try.” You were breathing hard again, eyes still on him as he stood a few feet away, stroking himself. “We should try, Marcus.” Curling your toes, you gasped at the feeling of your fingertip as it circled over your swollen flesh and then lower, your touch a poor substitute for him but still something. “I -” 

“Let me do that.” He rifled through his hair before climbing back into the bed on both knees, but Marcus wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on your hand and the way it moved, the flex of your wrist as you touched yourself - one finger turning into two, both of them curled slightly on each retreat. 

“But you already -” He was still stroking himself, the man’s thumb circling slowly over his head while he gazed down at you. “Oh, fuck.” You whimpered when he settled his free hand on your thigh, both of your fingers stilling inside of you. “Marcus, I -”

“Not with my hand.” He smiled then, the expression cutting through the tension in the room briefly. “Got a taste earlier and now I want the real thing.” He urged your legs further apart and then leaned down, still kneeling on the bed between them. Marcus released himself with a quiet sigh and then used one hand to guide your leg over his shoulder. 

It lifted you slightly from the mattress, but when his palm settled on your other thigh, pushing out, you understood, widening the spread enough to give him as much space as possible. His hand slid up and then the pad of his thumb brushed over your knuckles before he hooked it beneath them, urging you to move your hand away and give him access. 

You moaned at the loss of your fingers - your mouth falling open as you shuddered. But before you could do anything else, they were both enveloped in a warm, wet heat, the suction of Marcus’ lips secure. His tongue worked to clean them off, urging your fingers apart within his mouth. You tried to speak, but only sounds came out, Marcus’ grip on you tightening. I can’t believe this is happening.

When he released your fingers, you made eye contact again, chest heaving. “Even better the second time.” He took a breath, gaze dropping. “Let’s see about the third.” 

His mouth was on you before you had a chance to reply, the hand on your inner thigh pulling that skin taut so that more of you was exposed to him. And Marcus didn’t waste any time, tongue delving straight into you, the man curling it as he explored and then flattening it to cover as much as possible - repeating the motion over and over as the pressure in your belly built. 

Part of you just wanted to come again, to see if it would take the edge off of the way you were feeling, to relax your body and just let you enjoy what was happening without feeling so overwhelmed. But he came twice already and he’s still… Your hips bucked up and you pressed harder against his mouth, Marcus moaning at the feeling and pursuing his lips around you, the tip of his tongue working the tender bud of flesh while his hands urged you to stay in place.

There was entirely too much to focus on - his touch, his mouth, the way his patchy beard rubbed against your damp skin, the smell of him and of you in the cool air of the bright room - and so you stopped trying, relaxing against the blankets and closing your eyes, one hand rising so that you could cradle the back of his head. 

He was going to make you come - and in record time, if the way your body was reacting was any indication. Marcus felt it too, his pace picking up after he’d repositioned his hand so that he could rub two fingers over you while his mouth worked beneath it, the flat of his tongue licking along and into you in an unhurried but steady pace. “Right there.” You breathed out the words as you dug your heel into his back, your own arching off of the bed. “Fuck Marcus, just like -” 

That was all you got out before you started to shake, your body convulsing as you came - the muscles in your legs tightening as your core contracted, heat in your belly spreading lower, even as he continued - refusing to pull away and watch and instead keeping his mouth in place to taste. 

The bedding was likely ruined beneath you - you could feel the way you were dripping past his lips and onto it. 

Marcus didn’t care, though, pulling another smaller orgasm out of you when he backed his mouth off enough to slip two fingers into you, too. The man’s breath caught in his throat when you clamped around them, whimpers the only sound you were capable of making. “Wasn’t expecting that.” He looked up and you caught his eye, surprised to see a smirk back on his face, his lips glistening. “You feel amazing.” 

“Yeah?” You tried to smile but were almost breathless, and swallowed hard before speaking again, still staring down at him between your legs. “Well you look amazing right now, and -”

“Did it help?” He glanced down and then frowned, blinking slowly. “Are you -”

“No.” It was the truth, and from the understanding expression he gave you in return, you knew that you weren’t the only one that felt that way. “No, and I don’t…” I don’t want you to think that you’re not doing what you need to. Marcus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh before he eased your leg back down and then moved up to kneel over you, hands reaching down to gather you into his arms. 

“Good.” He mumbled the words into your ear, sighing. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” 

—

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