#that it was for nothing and you still tried

[prael]

Day 1: Scandal

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.

If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.

There are a lot of those going around.

No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.

It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.

Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.

That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.

It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?

Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.

Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.

You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.

Didn't work too well.

There was a close call, once.

You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.

So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.

So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.

It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.

But damn was it fun.

She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.

But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.

A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.

Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.

Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."

If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...

See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.

So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?

A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.

Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.

She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.

And it wasn't soft either.

It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.

"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."

"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.

She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.

Tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.

As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.

"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.

There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.

A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.

You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.

See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.

She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."

For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.

So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.

You weren't gentle.

Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.

So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.

Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.

A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.

"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.

No danger of that.

Maybe you should have.

Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.

But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.

So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.

See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.

She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.

One stroke and you bottomed out within her.

Two strokes and she began moaning again.

By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.

The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.

"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.

And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.

You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.

She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.

How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.

"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.

It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.

And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.

Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.

You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.

Her phone caught it all.

Every minute.

When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.

"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."

She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.

"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."

She looked right into your eyes as she said it.

"It's my favourite thing in the world."

So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.

In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."

"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.

"Doubt it," you replied.

Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.

"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.

Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.

You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.

"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."

And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."

"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.

Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.

She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.

Your phone rang.

"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.

Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.

She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.

Your phone kept ringing.

You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.

You came again.

Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.

Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."

"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.

"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."

A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.

"Fuck them," she laughed.

"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"

Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.

"You're relentless," you marvelled.

"And you love it."

"I love-"

There's a bang at the door and then a bell.

Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.

Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.

"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."

You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.

She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.

More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.

The icon has the word 'live' beside it.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.

Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.

Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[felixbit]

chestnut

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 0.8k genre: comedic fluff summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, comes home on christmas day from sbs gayo daejeon after surprising you with a new look. he's shaved his hair and gone blonde. warnings: reader mourns the long hair but is very supportive. playful teasing a/n: this is literally just how i'm coping rn

New year and comeback season always meant new looks and fresh things. However, this was not expected.

You were at home, as always. Christmas was a busy day for Hyunjin, away at SBS Gayo Daejeon performing and looking pretty for the cameras. It was routine, but you always enjoyed tuning in and seeing the talent from him and his group as they performed.

There was a red carpet to unveil looks, but you were preparing some food for dinner that night. Things were getting hectic in the kitchen and time passed you by.

But your phone started to buzz. And buzz. And buzz.

Unable to ignore the repeating notification noises, you stopped what you were doing to figure out what had your phone blowing up. Notifications from posts and texts from friends... what was happening?

Everyone was talking about Hyunjin. As normal as it was for him to get the world's attention, the sheer amount of notifications was concerning. Something was obviously going on.

So, you opened your feed. It didn't take more than a single scroll for the picture to hit your timeline. On the red carpet, looking sharp and stunning, was Hyunjin. Beautiful outfit, many piercings, eyebrow slit fresh.

Oh, and his head was completely shaved and dyed blonde.

You stared at your phone in shock for what felt like forever. The two second clip of him looking stunning for the cameras replayed over and over as your brain tried to pick up the pieces.

You knew he wouldn't have his phone on him and able to look at it for a bit, but that did not stop you from blowing up his texts. Nothing outrageous or upset, but a lot of spammed questions and confusion got the message across pretty well. It was the least you could do.

Reeling from the overwhelming knowledge of your boyfriend's look, you decided to put your phone down and get back to cooking. You had to take your mind off of it or you might go insane.

The whole time, all you could think about was him. How drastic it was, how hot he looked, the whole bit. Hwang Hyunjin was taking up your entire mind.

Any task that you tried to do seemed impossible to entirely focus on. Every moment had you wanting to grab your phone and scroll, finding every possible photo of him. Hyunjin being a world-famous idol did not make this any easier.

Giving in, you resigned to doom scrolling. If you weren't able to focus, you wouldn't get anything done. Might as well just drool over how good he looks, you thought.

When he finally got done with the show, he was able to text you back briefly. He returned your texts with spam of his own, a bunch of apologies and letting you know when he'd be back.

Waiting for him to come home seemed impossible. The performance that the group gave was phenomenal as always. However, nothing could prepare you for seeing the look in person. Time passed dreadfully slow.

As you had finished up dinner, you heard the door swing open. You turned around to see Hyunjin out of breath. He waved to you, a shy smile on his face as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes. He approached slowly, looking uncertain.

"Do you... like it?" He finally asked, his voice shaky and small.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you smiled and nodded. "Of course I do, but why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise! A Christmas gift, you know?" Hyunjin tried to explain, breathing still heavy from running, "I thought it was a really big change, and I was worried you'd say no."

You looked at him incredulously. "Why would I say no to you wanting to try something new?"

"I... don't know." Hyunjin climbed into a chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he fully caught his breath.

You watched him for a few moments, quietly observing his new look for yourself. He looked stunning, his sharp features accentuated by the new hair and the piercings grabbing your eye.

Although, you had something on your mind. "Oh, your poor hair," You lamented jokingly, "If you had warned me, I would've cherished it more if I knew it was the last time I'd see it."

"Aish, you'll see it again," Hyunjin groaned, standing up and looking at you, "Just not for a while."

"You better grow it back out," You retorted, walking over and running your fingers through his soft, short hair.

Hyunjin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

"Hwang Hyunjin."

"Okay, okay, sorry."

As you plated your dinner with him, you looked over and snickered. "God, you really do look like a chestnut. Changbin was right."

"What did he call me?" Hyunjin scoffed, "I'm not a chestnut."

"Chestnut, dumpling, flour boy. You're becoming the real grocery list."

"I am not!"

[parfaitblogs]

i have more than enough ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the holiday season is achingly difficult to get through, when you are spencer reid, who believes he is no longer allowed to enjoy them. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. post prison!reid. word count: 2k a/n: and for my final act? the parfaitblogs special (post prison reid fic to a searows song). merry christmas from australia because it IS the 25th here!!! this is the end of my christmas advent calendar!! i had soo much fun writing these stories thank you to all that requested ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

He does not deserve a Christmas. 

Perhaps that is the only thing that runs through Spencer Reid's mind the second the Halloween decor filtered out of the stores, reindeer mugs entered them; while candy canes and Santa hats adorned every little item, and Christmas trees lit up every corner of every mall.

No matter what state he traveled to, he couldn't escape the festivities of the holiday season. He's pretty sure he's the only person who wants to. 

You waited for him. He feels immensely guilty for just how much waiting you've had to do all year. Waiting for him to go to trial, waiting for him to get out of prison, waiting for him to let you in again. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

You're waiting again. A Christmas tree that blandly sits empty and undecorated in the corner of your shared apartment; a Christmas roast you aren't sure if you'll even cook takes up too much space in your fridge; gingerbread cookies you promised your friends weeks ago remaining unbaked. 

He knew you were upset about it. His Christmas loving girlfriend forced to mute the celebrations of her favourite holiday because he couldn't find it in him to be excited about it. 

He didn't know how to fix it, really. 

You had tried everything to get him back into the Christmas spirit he's had for the past three years you've spent together. Baking with him, picking out the very Christmas tree that leaves the room smelling like a pine forest together, Christmas shopping for the presents he had no will to buy for his family and friends. 

Nothing had worked. 

"Spence?"

Sitting awkwardly at his — now — very minimally decorated desk, his head lifts from the papers in front of him, eyebrows frowning towards each other as his eyes land on you.

"Hi," he murmurs, putting the pen in his hand down in an effort to give you his full attention. He was getting better at that, these days. 

"I finished dinner," you tell him, fingers fidgeting with one another; a recent habit he had noticed you'd developed in the months between his arrest and release. "If you want to come eat."

He doesn't, but then again, he never does. And despite how awful he feels, he feels even more so for what he's putting you through, and the guilt that chews away at him is enough to will him to do small things — like eating — for you. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, and stands up from the desk, following you silently over to the meal sitting at the edge of the kitchen bench you had cooked for the two of you.

Silence overwhelmed you two as you ate, as it usually does. Sitting curled up beside one another on the couch, sharing a blanket and yet still feeling so distant from each other regardless. 

"Did you call your mom?" you ask him, and his fork pauses in the plate. 

Right. It's Christmas. The time for calling family members and sharing love for them during this supposed to be joyous time. 

"Not yet," he shakes his head. "I'll... get to it. Before Christmas is over."

"You have a week," you remind him, though it isn't to be passive aggressive at all. You genuinely wonder if he's forgotten the date of Christmas that has quickly crept up on you both.

"I know."

You stare silently at the coffee table after a short nod to his words, and you wrack your brain for things to say, just to keep him talking.

"Can I give you your gift before Christmas day?" 

He lifts his head, and you feel his eyes transfix on you.

"If you want."

You want him to want it too, but you aren't sure if that's a reasonable wish anymore. 

"I do," you nod, and quickly finish up your food, before you stand, and leave the room altogether. 

He places his plate next to yours on the coffee table — he'd remember to get to cleaning those later — just as you return, a square shaped brown paper gift in your hands, a purple ribbon tied in a bow around it. 

"You got me a square?" he asks you, and your heart warms at the teasing tone in his voice. He's trying. 

"Open it," you press, instinctively shaking his shoulder with both hands pressed up against it. 

"Okay, okay."

He's meticulous in pulling the plain wrapping paper off, and you almost want to open the gift for him. 

"Did you make this?" he asks you as he carefully pulls the square apart in front of your eyes, though he does already know the answer before you have a chance to start nodding your head. 

A Victorian Puzzle Purse situates delicately in his hands. Hands that pull it apart ever so slowly, taking note of every little drawn and painted detail on the paper, opening it up to a letter that he spent two minutes reading through — confirming that he was not only reading it once through. 

"Do you like it?" you ask him, almost hesitantly. 

"Victorian Puzzle Purse's were how lovers would communicate for Valentine's day," he says, instead of answering your question directly, as he neatly folds it back up into the intricate origami square it was originally when he pulled it out. "Sorry," he quickly adds, his eyes landing back on you. "That wasn't an answer. I do. I like it a lot."

"I know it isn't much, but I don't want to overwhelm you with gifts this Christmas. I'm honestly not even expecting anything big. We can just order food in and watch movies or something this year, if you'd prefer. You just have to promise me you'll at least let me put mistletoe up outside our bedroom, because it's kind of become tradition and... sorry."

He's staring at you, half dumbfounded, half in awe, as you realise you were rambling instead of sitting in the moment of him enjoying something seasonal, but you can't even find it within yourself to be frustrated at it. For he is letting a small smile grace his lips, and you're leaning forwards with a smile of your own, and for a second or more, he is not the shattered prison man, and you are not his distanced girlfriend. 

"You can put mistletoe outside our bedroom," he says, and you're breaking into an even wider grin.

"Really?"

"It's tradition."

You light up enough for there to be no need for a decorated Christmas tree in your apartment anymore, and you're threading your fingers through his hand to drag him up off the couch. 

Your gift to him remains on the coffee table as you lead him over to your bedroom door, prompting him to stay still, as you disappear to find the piece of familiar fake greenery. 

"Mistletoe!" you present it to him, and he takes it from you habitually, using the pin you also hand him and pinning it above your heads on the doorframe.

"I think we need to buy a new one," he says, hands dropping back by his side. His eyes are trained on you, but your own head is still tilted back, inspecting the faux plant. 

"I think we need to buy a real one," you answer conclusively, finally dropping your gaze to him. 

"Next year," he confirms. "Tradition complete?"

You shake your head. "The tradition ends with a kiss."

Hesitation follows your words, and you instantly regret them. 

It wasn't that you didn't kiss, or weren't intimate in any way. It's simply that it was on occasion now, and almost always motivated by something more important than a silly mistletoe tradition.

"It's okay," you cover your unwelcome disappointment with a smile. 

He ignores your reassurance. "It does end in a kiss, you're right."

"But we don't have to," you mumble.

"Yes," his hands encase your waist to do nothing more than to pull you closer to him. "We do."

"Not if you don't want to."

"Did I say that?"

You open your lips to respond, but the words die on your tongue. 

"What did I do to make you think I don't want to kiss you, angel?" he's frowning now, and you feel guilt settle in your chest. 

"Nothing, really. We just—um—don't kiss... as much. Anymore. Which is fine, by the way, and I can understand it. You're under no moral obligation to kiss me. Obviously."

His frown deepens. "I think we're experiencing a bout of miscommunication."

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want to kiss me," he explains, and suddenly, you're mirroring the confusion on his face. 

"Why would I not want to kiss you?" you ask him, incredulously. 

His shoulders slump at the question, and you force yourself not to fill the silence that follows.

"Prison," he replies, quietly. "I didn't think you'd really even want me once I got out of prison. You don't initiate anything anymore, either. I just assumed."

"I didn't initiate anything because I was waiting for you to initiate stuff."

"I can see that now."

"I didn't want to rush you," you tell him, as earnestly as possible. "I know prison was a lot, and you still haven't told me everything that happened, but I wanted you to not rush yourself. Or... us, I guess."

He swallows the lump of emotion that lodges in his throat. "I thought you were disappointed in me. Or—well, scared of me."

"No," your heart shatters, and you're sure he can hear it in your voice as your hands instantly cup his cheeks, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. "No, oh my God, Spencer."

"You shouldn't use the lord's name in vain. It's Christmas," he jokes, weakly. The smile you give him is weak, too.

"I was terrified for you. I was so worried about you in prison, and—and what they were doing to you in there. But never of you. Not a single part of me will ever be scared of you, sweet boy."

"I'm scared of me," he whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that has tears welling in your eyes. "I think differently, you know."

"And that automatically means I should be scared of you? Or makes you any less deserving of love?"

His silence is enough of a response. 

"I love you," you settle on telling him. "No matter what baggage you came back to me with. You deserve so much love, and I hate that you have been through so much. So much so that you believe yourself undeserving. You are not. You never will be. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if I must. Or as long as you will let me."

"Forever," he replies, and you feel his hands close over your own on his face. "I will let you forever."

"Thank God. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I say all this and then you were to break up with me tomorrow," you say, and his cheeks stretch beneath your hands as he huffs a laugh.

"I won't break up with you."

"I wouldn't let you, anyways."

"Oh really?" his hands slide down to your waist once more. 

"Yeah," you confirm with a small nod, your own hands dropping to his neck, interlacing behind it, as you draw his head closer to yours. "You're stuck with me."

"I have not a word of complaint," he replies, and he's close enough that you feel the words tattoo your lips. "I love you."

And then he's kissing you, and there is an overwhelming amount of neglected feelings you had been missing poured into you, from his soul to yours. 

It was a kiss so unlike what you had grown used to in recent months. Fingers dug into your waist as a violent reminder of what you mean to him, and for the first time since May, you believed it. 

When he goes to pull away, you barely give him time to get air before you're chasing his lips again, and he tugs you impossibly closer with a laugh that vibrates against your face. 

You kiss him until your hands go numb behind his neck, and your legs begin to ache, and your waist is sure to have bruised in the shapes of his fingertips. Chest heaving and eyes full of more adoration than you think one human can have for another, you meet his gaze once more.

"Tradition complete."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[princesssmars]

better leave your man at home!

mini stories of vi, sevika, abby, and ellie showing you your true worth.

wc : 7.306

contains : sfw and nsfw. fxf. fem!reader. cheating on the men's part until ellie's part lol. ellie’s is a modern!au the rest are in canon. mentions of violence and alcohol. silco but he's chill. owen but he's not chill. reader can be interpreted as bi or comphet i think!

a/n : ladies if you're reading this...cheat on him. or cheat back. yknow what just leave him.

VIOLET ꨄ

ʚɞ ever since getting out of prison and restarting her life, vi had been looking for a new purpose.

ʚɞ she had found a solid job, managed to reconnect with wither last siblings left alive, and started to build up a life for herself, but still, she felt...aimless. she longed for a deeper connection than the ones she had, someone she could yet again.

ʚɞ and then she meets you, a sweet little store owner with a voice that sounds like a symphony and an attitude as sweet as cookies. the first time she even met you she bumped into you on the street outside your bakery, knocking you supplies for your treats all over the ground. she's expecting that usual zaunite 'watch where you're going!' but instead you tell her not to worry, that you were carrying too many things anyway.

ʚɞ it was almost instinct for her to assure you she was at fault, downright demanding she help you carry everything that dropped inside and that it was the least she could do. you call her a sweetheart and tell her if she does you'll send her home with a plate of her favorite dessert. how could she say no?

ʚɞ she cant help but to quickly hang out with you whenever she can. after her shifts she stops by to help you close up, telling you its the least she could do for someone who was oh-so sweet. you seem to welcome her affections, whispering one late night when making some extra batter that you always appreciate when she stops by. she goes home on a high that night.

ʚɞ but then the worst thing ever happens. you get a boyfriend.

ʚɞ apparently he's some old family friend who moved back to the city when he found a small fortune overseas and was ready to come back to 'win you over like he tried years ago'. you told the story with a slightly wistful voice but all vi could do was nod along with wide eyes and a shut mouth.

ʚɞ eventually, she meets the guy, a tall and rather weasly looking guy who was waiting impatiently outside the store. she gave him a simple greeting and all he could do was tilt his head in recognition that she was there, apparently. she passed him and went to the back of the store and asked you what he was doing standing outside looking all suspicious. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when you told her he was waiting to take you out but had to stand outside because he couldn't stand the smell of bread.

ʚɞ yeah, this definitely wasn't gonna last long. she’d just have to get you to see that.

ʚɞ sadly, she didn't have to do much work. ton a sunny day when the two of you were walking through the upper city levels together you stopped in your tracks, a talking vi whose arm was wrapped with yours questioning what made you stop before following your eyesight to see your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, way too close for comfort. vi wanted nothing more in that moment than to go and knock the bastard's lights out, but she had to prioritize you first.

ʚɞ you go into a depression for a week, your shop closed and your apartment locked as you skulk and cry in your home. but thankfully you gave vi a key not too long into your friendship, and she wakes you up one afternoon and demands you go and clean yourself up while she takes care of your chores.

ʚɞ you come out of the shower feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, your mood only lifting higher at the smell of cookies in the air. you pad out to the kitchen and cant help but smile when you see vi standing with a tray of perfectly made chocolate chip cookies on the island counter.

ʚɞ you sit up on your counter and moan at the taste of the cookies, vi accepting your praise of her baking skills with pride as she rubs over your bare thighs. eventually the topic steers to your recent heartbreak and vi makes sure you can complain and vent to her all you want.

ʚɞ but the last thing she wants to hear is you blaming yourself, teary-eyed and mumbling about how maybe you were too overbearing in your affections. she gently but sternly brings your attention to her, making sure you look her in the eyes when she goes on about how you’re the nicest and most soft-natured person she’s ever known and he was a fool to not see what an amazing woman he had in front of him.

ʚɞ and you cant help but feel even worse at the clear effect her affection has on you, unconsciously biting her lip at her praise and closeness. her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes, slowly inching her head forward for permission. as soon as you slightly nod your head she’s kissing you with months of pent-up adoration, warmth, and lust.

ʚɞ a small part of you feels guilty for moving on to your close friend only a week after you broke up with your boyfriend, but when her fingers are drifting down to your cunt and making you cry as you cum over and over again, you can't find it in you to care.

ʚɞ “he was an idiot to give up on someone as sweet as you. but down worry muffin, i’m not gonna take that chance.”

SEVIKA ꨄ

ʚɞ sevika had made a promise to herself years ago: don't mess with married women.

ʚɞ she could give herself some grace, she was young and dumb, and the woman was incredibly gorgeous. and when a woman with legs that could bring any person woman or man to their knees comes up to you and asks you your plans for the night, you cant exactly pass up the opportunity. though she wishes she did after her partner caught them together in bed and she got in one of the worst fights of her life.

ʚɞ but she had to admit things in her life were getting a bit…stale, to say the least. her schedule was a steady routine of doing tasks for silco, reeling in jinx, and keeping the last drop working like a well-oiled machine. she didn't want anything drastic that would screw up their plans to happen, just…something.

ʚɞ and oh, does she get it. some out of towner got too rowdy in the bar and started a bar fight and before she could come in and get things under control theirams leg gets broken. so now she’s tasked with finding a good enough replacement to cover him for the few months it gets healed since he for some reason couldn't just take a shimmer dose and get back on his feet in no time.

ʚɞ she goes through dozens of recruits, all either too disobedient or downright atrocious behind a bar. she’s just about to give up and force one of the goons to do it when you come through the door. you’re rather unassuming, and at first she things you’re joking until you travel behind the bar and instruct her to give you any drink and you can make it. after ten different drinks she’s more than convinced.

ʚɞ she doesn't talk to you much at first, you’re just another cog in the machine that keeps the enterprise running smoothly. obviously she’s noticed that you’re attractive, surrounded by a stern but easy-going aura that makes most customers sit and want to talk to you for hours on end. it amused her when she watched how you convinced three different patrons to buy some more drinks so you’d continue telling them a wild story of some adventure you apparently had in bilgewater years back.

ʚɞ she can't help but ask you if its true later when the bar is closing and you’re wiping everything down, rolling her eyes when you call her out for listening to your conversations. you reveal that all your stories of adventure and excitement are true, but that you gave that life up when you decided to settle down after you get married.

ʚɞ she scoffs that the woman you married must be a hell of a catch to get you to leave behind such an exciting life, and she sees your eyes drop when you reveal that life with your husband is a nice and quiet alternative to your days of danger. sevika’s always had a good poker face, and she’s really glad she has it now after hearing you gave up all of that for a guy. and that her gaydar was apparently wrong, which never happens.

ʚɞ but its almost like this is the challenge her mind has been looking for, because after that conversation she keeps having late-night talks with you when no one else is around. you’re disarmingly easy to talk to, able to show a compassion and understanding that isn’t common for the folks down here. its only a few hours after she gets a bit too tipsy and accidentally lets slip a story about her upbringing that she lays in bed and slaps her human hand to her forehead in frustration when instead of being embarrassed all she can think about is your soft hand gently rubbing her shoulder as she poured her heart out.

ʚɞ she is so screwed.

ʚɞ eventually, you draw silco’s attention. mostly because the profits from the bar have nearly doubled since you started working, partly because he can tell a certain someone is distracting sevika. he gave her a list of tasks one day that he could tell she hated doing and she went off with a nod and without a word, and she either had a new woman in her life or she was about to snap. he made sure to find out about you a few minutes later, and asked/demanded to know more about your life. in particular, any outside connections you had.

ʚɞ sevika doesn't know whether she wants to thank silco or kill him when you’re given a more permanent position at the bar and finally introduce the crew to your husband, a man who silco has apparently given a job in his booking department. when sevika pulls him aside later to ask why he would od something like that, he just. shrugs. silco never just shrugs.

ʚɞ now that you’ve basically part of their little crime family it's even easier for sevika to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you jinx has taken a liking to you, but you handle it well and always make sure to give the girl her favorite drink in her favorite cup whenever she stops in the bar to babble on about some new weapon of mayhem she’s decided to make.

ʚɞ but after a few weeks she notices your mood start to sour, how you start getting snippy with some of the more rowdy drunks who stumble through the bar. she catches you a few hours after closing sat behind the bar with a half drunken bottle in your hand and mascara running down your cheeks. normally if this was anyone else she’d scoff to herself and quickly make her exit but instead she plops herself down next to you and demands you tell her what's wrong. through hiccups and tears, you tell her that you’re pretty sure your husband is lying to you. about a lot. in particular about where he spends his nights and comes back grumbling about ‘unfair bets’ and losing cash.

ʚɞ sevika assures you she’ll get to the bottom of it, and it only takes her a few hours of trailing thee guy to find out the problem. it seems your betrothed has been gambling your money away in seedy gambling circles, with some guys she swore she told to cut it out months ago when it came to rigging their dice when playing with tourists. but the amounts he’s using are definitely more than what either of you are making on a salary.

ʚɞ she tries not to smile when she picks the excuse of a man up by the back of his neck with her mech hand, reveling in the horrified look on his face as he makes up excuse after excuse for why he’s been stealing money from you and the boss, that he swears he’ll make it back up to silco-

ʚɞ you come in the next day as confused as ever, whispering that your husband packed up his things in the middle of the night and disappeared. sevika sits you down and explains that your husband was a thief, stealing hundreds from silco rather sloppily under his nose, and was dealt with in a timely manner. but she assures you that you won't be affected by any debts he may have had, she’ll make sure of it and make sure none of those gamblers come after you.

ʚɞ you only grow closer and closer after that night, and its no surprise you start to catch feelings for the gorgeous woman who constantly makes sure you’re safe and protected. its on one of the bars rather more exciting nights that you relent and play a drinking game with some members of the crew, and in a moment of weakness accidentally admit that since your husband left you haven't been laid in weeks, and in an additional moment of weakness admit that the first person you’d like to rock your world would be none other than silco’s second hand.

ʚɞ it was just your luck that the woman was walking by when the words left your lips, and fueled by her own dose of liquid courage came up behind you and whispered that she was free at that moment.

ʚɞ you expected many things when you settled down in zaun, and getting bent in half for hours on end by the second in command to the rule of the underground was not one of them. but when sevika groans in your ear and moans about how you have the tightest pussy she’s ever had the pleasure of taking, you’re really glad it happened to you.

ʚɞ “god, i’m really not gonna be able to stay away from you now. promise that the next time you get married you’re not gonna have to worry about being disappointed ever again.”

ʚɞ (when sevika walks in the next morning with a rare smile on her face silco does admit that he hired your husband knowing he’d be an idiot that she’d have to get rid of. you’re welcome.)

ABBY ꨄ

ʚɞ abby never saw herself as a jealous person. she’d only been in one relationship before, and even though it ended rather sourly she knew it was only natural that they’d both eventually move on. but when she sees you, a new wlf recruit walking and smiling side by side with owen, she feels…weird. really weird.

ʚɞ she does feel bad that as soon as he introduces you all to the group at a small party thrown by some of the soldiers all she can manage is tight-lipped smile and a small wave. you visibly deflate and smile it off, immediately pulled away by nora and leah to grab some drinks. manny butts her shoulder with his, giving her that ‘what the hell?’ look he loves to do. she defensively apologizes, because how should she react? her ex-boyfriend clearly has a thing for you, is she supposed to be all buddy buddy with you?

ʚɞ it doesn't help that its clear to everyone that you’re pretty. like, weirdly pretty for someone in the middle of an apocalyptic setting. crystal clear skin, smooth lips, and eyes of a beautiful shade. she caught herself staring once in the gym as you laughed with one of the trainers and had to quickly get herself together.

ʚɞ isaac must be playing a sick game because you then get assigned to go with her on patrol. she initially resented, questioning why you were tagging along when you mostly worked with the medics and mel was already trailing along. he said that apparently you had asked for the chance to get some more field practice and left it at that, dismissing her with a wave.

ʚɞ she was quiet for most of the ride to the patrol spot, hands tight on the steering wheel as you sat in the back of the truck with the others in the group and laughed at some story one the guys was talking about.

ʚɞ god, even your laugh is cute, she thinks as she carefully maneuvers the truck around a downed tree. youre like if a dream girl was placed down in this wasteland to torture her, a giant sign to tell her of course owen went after you, you were perfect. more perfect than she could be.

ʚɞ it isnt helpful that shes left partnered with you as you clear out the abandoned store in the strip mall they've all been sent to check and re-clear the spaces if necessary. she finds herself frustrated when you very reasonably and very smartly stick to her side the whole time. she swears she almost trips over an overgrown branch when she catches a whiff of your soap and she doesnt know where the hell you managed to snag vanilla flavored anything.

ʚɞ everything is fine for a while. you both remain vigilant as you walk through the barely lit aisles of the department store, the only action when a clicker jumps up out of nowhere and nearly tackled you before she’s roughly pushing you out of the way and kicking out its knees before bashing in its head with her boot. she’s panting and catching her breath before roughly asking if you were alright and reminding you to stay vigilant, taking your wide eyed stare for shock at a close encounter to what would be a rather painful death.

ʚɞ but despite her rather abrasive attitude you try your best to be friendly with her. you reveal that owen did confide about their past relationship, and as awkward as the situation sometimes was you wouldn’t let it drive a wedge between you, that you in fact wanted to be friends with abby. you had heard a great many things about her, how she was a loyal friend, a courageous leader, clearly an incredibly strong soldier-

ʚɞ her brain. short circuits a bit. the way you called her strong, like it was fact that was so obvious that she’d already proven it to you just by being out here. sure she’d pushed you of out the trajectory of that clicker but that was normal, anyone should and would do the same. she realizes you wouldn’t get the chance to see any displays of strength like that back in the base save for the visits to the gym, and a foreign voice in her head laments what a shame that is.

ʚɞ she doesn’t realize until a day later just how screwed she is.

ʚɞ whatever weird…feelings she has for you don’t even get a chance to go away or settle, just fester and multiply with your constant presence. where abby is her friends are close by, and that now includes you. at small get togethers, shared gym workouts, breakfast lunch and dinner hangouts, you’re always there with a bright smile and a warm greeting for her. she thinks she’s hiding whatever it is she’s hiding pretty well until nora pulls her to the side and asks why she just keeps staring at you whenever you’re around, that she understand there might be some lingering feelings of jealousy and resentment towards owen but that’s no reason to treat you rudely.

ʚɞ abby stumbles over her words, insisting that she’s not treating you rudely, that’s the last thing she would want to do. who would ever do that to someone as nice and sweet and gorgeous as you? she ends her mini explanation with a stiff chuckle and looks at nora who’s now staring at her with an open mouth and a flabbergasted look on her face.

ʚɞ so it’s clear that abby likes you. she doesn’t know how to grapple with the fact, and decides its best to just deal with it privately and wait for it to just pass as most things do. the only person who knows is nora, who after not talking to her for a few hours after their last encounter came back to abby’s room to apologize for walking out on her in a moment where they so clearly needed to talk more about what was just revealed. she assures abby that she’ll help her through this but it’s very confusing to herself as well. it’s not every day you have to deal with your best friend falling in love with her boyfriends new girlfriend.

ʚɞ she doesn’t agree with abby’s method, frequently telling her that dealing with this in private will only have the opposite effect. and just like normally she’s right, abby’s increased attempt at distance from you only peaks your worry and drives you to constantly check in on her to make sure she’s okay. one day you come by her room after one of your workouts, and the sight of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat in shorts and a tank asking her sweetly if she’s feeling okay and if she’d like to join you for lunch let’s her know for sure that she really can’t do this for much longer.

ʚɞ so she’s tries her best to try a different approach : exposure therapy. as bad as it sounds, she’s sure once she starts spending more time with you she’ll realize you aren’t some mythical girl of of her dreams and are just a normal person who’s dating her ex and who she can totally just be normal friends with. she comes up to you in the halls a few days later and asks if you’d like her to help you train for more field work and you beam up at her before wrapping your arms around her neck and thanking her a multitude of times before composing yourself. you go one about how you were so eager to prove yourself and you’d do no better than to have the abby anderson teaching you the basics. she zoned out as soon as she felt your skin against the back of her neck, nodding along to all of your words with a doe-eyed blank look.

ʚɞ it’s really nice bonding with you over the course of a few short weeks. you quickly pick up on the things she teaches you, and whatever you don’t she’s more than eager to help you learn. she hates to admit it but her conscious cheered a little bit when you told her you needed help aiming one of the bigger rifles, and it nearly screamed when she got to place herself behind you and helped you aim at the target practice. maybe she’s a bit delusional at this point but she swears she felt your body relax into hers, felt your breath stutter just a bit when her chest met your back.

ʚɞ and she knows it’s serious when she trusts you enough to share her space in the library. it’s a night when manny has a girl over so she’s in her usual cozy spot surrounded by the book shelves when she shears your gentle footsteps and call of her name, remarking that you initially went to the room out of loneliness about owen being gone for the night but came here when a breathless and shirtless manny told you her usual sleepover spot. she invites you to settle in with her in her heap of old blankets surrounded by dusty novels, trying her best to remain calm when you lean your head on her shoulders and insisted she keep reading her current book aloud.

ʚɞ she wakes up to the early morning light with her head rested on top of yours, snuggled up to battle the chill of the stadium air and your hand clamped around her arm. when she looks down at your face and wishes she could see you like this every day she realizes that she is really, really screwed.

ʚɞ luckily she doesn’t have to wait long to see you like that again. well, the circumstances are rather horrid. yet another soldier was having small secret party ok one of the larger stadium dorms and you were glued to abby’s side. everyone besides nora was confused but happy that the two of you seemed to be getting along so well, and nora herself kept giving abby looks that were a mixture between pity, worry, and just a bit of ‘you need to just get this off of your chest to anyone else but me’ annoyance.

ʚɞ abby was your designated drink manager, constantly making sure you weren’t too drunk and were drinking enough water to stave off any of the negative effects of the smuggled in alcohol they brought in for the party. you’re both sitting on one of the couches and observing the party when you make an off handed comment about not seeing owen for a while and abby decides to sit you down snuggly on the couch while she goes to look for him to appease your tipsy haze. her search leads her down the hallway, and it’s only when she hears an object drop in a nearby maintenance closet does she find out the truth.

ʚɞ she whips open the door to see owen and mel in a rather…well, let’s just say a really lewd position. in the midst of being disgusted and infuriated she finds a bit of amusement at mousy mel of all people doing a drunken hookup in a dingy closet. owen hurriedly tries to fix himself and his pants, insisting to abby that it’s not what it looks like, and suddenly his eyes lock on an object behind her and she turns around to see you, teary eyed and clearly betrayed before you silently stoop off to the direction of your own room.

ʚɞ abby is normally a calm person. as a soldier she isn’t afforded the luxury to let her emotions get the better of her in moments of stress. but seeing you with tears in your eyes and a wobbly lip makes her wish she broke owen’s nose on the spot. collecting all of her composure, she slaws the closet door in his face and quickly runs after you.

ʚɞ she quickly chases after you, making her way down the stadium halls until she finds your bedroom door agape, quickly knocking and entering when she hears your quiet cry demanding owen leave. she makes sure to announce who she is once she settles in beside you on your bed, gently extending her hands to make sure shes allowed to physically comfort you before pulling you into a tight hug once you let her know it’s okay.

ʚɞ she had again struggles to keep her composure when you cry into her shoulder, not minding the tears staining her t-shirt when she hears you weep about what a fool you wer, how you were such an idiot to believe that someone like him could truly care about you.

ʚɞ in the morning, she can blame the weeks of pent up feelings, or maybe the cup of beer she had an hour before, but she can’t stop herself from grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards her, commanding your attention before she reveals that should’ve warned you about owen earlier, that she should’ve known he would take advantage of someone with as sweet a nature as you. She’s always known he was a fool, but to ruin his chances of someone like you is the dumbest thing he ever could’ve done.

ʚɞ when you sniffle and look up at her with those shiny eyes and puffy lips and ask her if that’s true she feels her composed facade slipping, hands shaky as she reaches up to wipe your tears away before letting her palm letting her fingers trail down your face, biting her lip when she sees your eyelids flutter closer when her hands start to ghost down your neck.

ʚɞ she doesn’t feel sorry when she watches you take off your top, doesn’t feel guilt when she pushes you down to the bed and lets her lips bite and kiss from your neck to her chest and draw out all manners of whines and gasps from your throat. and when she feels your hips lift up and grind into her crotch, when her hands attach themselves to your hips and forces you to bring yourself to an orgasm in your pants, she doesn’t give a shit how it’ll seem when she parades you around the stadium tomorrow.

ʚɞ manny and nora are open mouthed and shocked when you walk hand in hand into the cafeteria the next morning, both starry eyed and covered in love bites as you sit together nearly attached at the hip. when owen walks in a few minutes later and quickly storms out after seeing the two of you, abby can’t help but shrug when manny asked her what the hell is going on.

ʚɞ “owen had his chance, and he should learn that jealously is a monster.”

ELLIE ꨄ

ʚɞ in moments like these ellie remembers laughing at how her fellow lesbians would fall for their straight friends in middle and high school and end up with broken hearts and broken friendships. and now as she sits across from you and listens to you lament about your boyfriend, she realizes that karma is real and she is totally a bitch.

ʚɞ truly, she has no one to blame, but herself the moment she saw you walk into the record store she worked at she knew that this would only lead to trouble for herself. It was obvious to Dina, who lightly pushed his shoulder and told her to stop drooling and to focus on her work and not fall into another relationship so soon after her catastrophic breakup with cat. she had rolled her eyes at the brunette and assured her nothing would happen, that she’d politely introduce herself, help you buy a product, and never think about or see you again.

ʚɞ god, what an idiot she was.

ʚɞ as soon as she introduced herself, you complemented her tattoo, mention that you had wanted one but were too indecisive about a design and placement. before she can even think of what she wants to say she’s telling you that wouldn’t mind hooking you up with her tattoo artist who could help you decide what you wanted. hell, she wouldn’t mind helping you decide what kind of vibe you were going for when it came to the body art and where exactly on your body would be best to showcase it.

ʚɞ you’re beaming up at her and thanking her, telling her that she really is just too kind. she’s even kinder when she continues to talk to you as she helps you look through the store, helping you decide which record would be best for your collection.

ʚɞ and helping you pick out another record as a gift. for your boyfriend. she can hear dina snicker at the counter all the way from three aisles away, passing it off as allergies when you turn to look at her.

ʚɞ but it’s not like she’s gonna fall for you. she gives you her number, but that’s because she already promised she’d help you with the tattoo stuff. and sure she talks with you for hours the following week and even goes with you to the parlor for moral support, but that’s because she’s a good person! and you even told her she’s a great friend for helping you with this! she’s just being friendly.

ʚɞ soon enough she basically becomes your new best friend. she doesn’t know how it happened really, somewhere between helping you when your car broke down in the middle of the road and having dinner with your parents when they demand to meet the person who’s been taking up an extra chunk of their daughters time. it’s frightening how easy it is to just be with you, to talk to you about any and everything. she remembers it took dina pestering her at work for weeks for them to become friends, and here she is laughing with your dad over roasted chicken after a month.

ʚɞ dina and jesse call her delusional. when the former shows the latter a picture of you on the instagram account you have to ellie he folds over in laughter and tells ellie oh so eloquently that she’s definitely going to fall for you, it’s only inevitable. but she remains vigilant that she wouldn’t do something so dumb. i mean yeah you’re basically exactly her type, like a deity went into one of her wet dreams and plucked the woman she manifested and placed you in the real world, but she was strong. there were plenty of fish in the sea. plenty of gay fish, to be exact.

ʚɞ she tries to go on dates, scrolls through tinder and likes every other attractive viable woman she sees. she even manages to have a few hookups. its really just a coincidence that they have some of your similar characteristics, truly. she’s not actually looking for you in any of these girls, that’d just be weird.

ʚɞ but then it happens. she has a girl over, her leg thrown over her shoulder as she grinds herself into the pretty girl’s cunt. she’s lost in a high after the blunt they’d shared earlier and her heads thrown back as she’s letting out expletive after expletive, and then she does it. she moans your name. she pauses, the girl pauses, and its silent as they remove their entangled limbs from each other and rigidly lay in bed side by side. it hurts even worse than the embarrassment when the girl pats her shoulder with a smile after she’s put her clothes back on, wishing her luck with whatever’s goin on between the two of you.

ʚɞ there’s no point in denying it then. she doesn't even get the chance to keep it to herself, the next day when she’s watching a movie on your couch you poke and prod at her until she reveals what’s got her in such a sour mood. she doesn't tell you the full story, of course, just that something absolutely mortifying happened last night when she was riding some girl. she groans that she didn't even get to finish and that was way worse then what she said, hoping the joke will ease some of the embarrassment she has telling the story and the guilt about passively lying to you.

ʚɞ she doesn't notice how you hips shift in your seat, how your teeth bite at the skin of your lip. she does notice when you question what she meant by riding a girl. she cant help but think about how adorable you are before explaining the position in the nicest way possible. you hum and turn your attention back to the movie and she thinks that's the end of the conversation. but only seconds later you’re asking her to show you.

ʚɞ she thinks she's dreaming. no, she knows she's dreaming. its happened before, weird dreams she has after a strong high where she swears her dreams become all the more vivid and lifelike. it was super annoying the second time it happened, she woke up to a world where she in fact did not win the lottery and get to make out with her celebrity crush. but this is just cruel, she didn't know her brain could be so masochistic. but no, the feel of your hand shaking her shoulder and shyly asking if you’ve made her uncomfortable is real, your big eyes flitting to anywhere but hers is real.

ʚɞ she stutters over her words, asking if you really mean it. and you say yeah, you’d been curious about this anyway. it wouldn't hurt to do it with ellie, you were friends, right? and god what an idiot she was because she’s nodding along like of course, this couldn’t make your friendship weird at all, right? so she gets to work, not doing anything too lewd except for gently pushing you to lie on your back as she maneuvers her body over yours, placing her crotch over yours until she can feel the heat of you through her jeans. she tries not to show a reaction to the sight of you looking up at her, curious and flushed as your hand briefly comes up to rest on her hip. its only when your hips delicately press up into hers that she abruptly removes herself from on top of you, stiffly chuckling before recommending you get back to the movie.

ʚɞ neither of you bring it up again.

ʚɞ it’s so much more difficult to be around you now. before she was resolute in the fact that she was alone in whatever weird feelings she had towards you, but eventually she might move on. but with only a few actions you threw that whole viewpoint out the window. now it was clear that you were interested. maybe not in ellie but in sex with another woman. a small part of her is upset at the fact it might not be her. its only cliche that if you started having these feelings you’d fall for your gay best friend, who the hell else were you thinking about? whatever, that wasn't important.

ʚɞ what was important was what occurred over the next few weeks. it happens slowly but surely, your complaints about your intimate troubles with your boyfriend. now ellie had met the guy before, and it made her feel slightly better that she had a valid reason right from the start not to like him. the man was clearly an ass, looking her up and down the first time they met and giving her a ‘yeah you’re weird’ look that he apparently didn’t think she’d recognize. luckily she didn’t have to see him often, only seeing him in passing when she spent time with you at yours or picked you up to go hang out.

ʚɞ but now his weirdness is apparently front and center. she nearly chokes on her chipotle when you tell her that he questioned why the two of you were spending so much time together, feeling like ellie was going to make a move on you.

ʚɞ and yeah, it was offensive. just because she was a lesbian didn’t mean she wanted to jump the bones of every woman she met. unfortunately that didn’t apply here because she very much did want to jump your bones. not like he knew that. hopefully.

ʚɞ but she doesn’t want to get in the way of your relationship, begrudgingly recommending that maybe the two of you should spend some time apart so he can chill out and realize he’s being paranoid. she’s very happy to hear your quick rebuttal, remarking how you’d rather dump him then spend any more time away from her.

ʚɞ god you are making this so confusing. and it only reaches a head the next time she sees you. you’d texted her to ask if she could come over late at night and obviously she said she would, along with a bag of your favorite drinks and snacks just in case you got peckish. so she’s sitting on the couch as you both eat some shareable m&ms when the topic becomes a bit more…intimate.

ʚɞ she notices your rigid shoulders as you sit stark straight on the couch and laughs about how pent up you must be. your following laugh is awkward as you agree that you have been a bit stressed lately. so she tells a joke, that your boyfriend isn’t up to par in bed. she expects you to laugh and hit her shoulder but you nod your head.

ʚɞ you…nod your head. and then you turn to her, and she’s getting flashbacks to the last time you were this close on your couch. her face is hot as whisper that the past few times you’ve tried to sleep with your boyfriend he, as you eloquently put it, ‘just pumps and dumps’, and brushes you off whenever you bring up the fact that you haven’t had a release. that as much as it ashamed you to say it, once he falls asleep next to you you sometimes find your hand trailing under your shorts and thinking back to her stories of the hookups she told you about, wishing she could show you how all of that felt.

ʚɞ ellie has always liked your bedroom. its soft and sweet, with vines of fake ivy hanging across the ceiling and a large canopy hanging over the bed. you even have an adorable collection of stuffed animals, a few of them gifted to you by her throughout the months of your friendship. all of the little guys have been shoved to the floor now, and for a fleeting moment she things they’re really just going to have to understand before her mind is consumed again with you, how you’re pretty flushed face is staring and moaning up at her as her wrist nearly cramps with how fast her fingers are pistoning into your wet cunt.

ʚɞ you haven’t even touched her and she’s already on cloud nine. your confession nearly made her pass out, and she swore she had died and gone to heaven when you asked her to help you with your problem and grabbed her hand to lead her to your bed. it was like her horniest dream come true to see you undress, to feel over your skin, to lower her head to your pussy and try her best to suck out your soul in the most loving way possible.

ʚɞ she feels her boxers get soaked when you cum around her fingers again, legs wrapping around her waist and head raising to muffle your sounds in her shoulder. she swore she nearly came when you bit into her shoulders, already knowing she was going to look into the mirror later to look at the mark your teeth left on her with a smile. but she didn’t predict for you to be so insatiable, for as soon as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt you’re whining and grinding your hips up into hers, whispering little *‘please, el, need more’*s

ʚɞ “don’t worry, baby, i’ll give you whatever you want. swear once i’m done you’re never even gonna think of that stupid boyfriend of yours again.”

[novelistwriter]

The Ancient One

DP x DC Prompt

The Ancients, beings of concepts that are believed in. Also, pieces to become a being known as "The Ancient One," a being of untold power, able to do anything to their hearts content. The Ghost King is the one to become "The Ancient One." Pariah couldn't be that being. He was too corrupt and tyrannical. But Danny? He is the perfect candidate.

Danny was alone. He had no family or friends to be with him, but the Ancients began to spend time with him. They treat him as a child, unlike the ones he wanted to treat him as such, but he's getting a family again.

Then, one by one, they began to disappear, and Danny got their powers. First, it was Frostbite, the Ancient of Medicine, who had played with him in the snow all day before he disappeared, and then Danny got the knowledge of many medical practices the next day. Next was Vortex. The Ancient of Weather had watched the stars with Danny the day before he disappeared, and the next day, Danny could control the weather, but it wasn't tied to his emotions like last time. Undergrowth was next. The Ancient of Plants had shown Danny his personal garden, the first and last time it would happen, as the next day, Undergrowth's personal garden appeared outside Danny's keep, and he could hear the voices of the plants.

Danny began to worry. His family was slowly getting smaller and smaller, so he went to the rest of his family to ask them where the rest of the Ancients were. He was devastated to learn that they would just become memories, that Danny would be the only one left again. He tried to protest to keep the rest of his family again. But Nocturne, Pandora, and Clockwork still vanished, with a last sticky note from the Ancient of Time for Danny to read again and again.

"Danny, I am sorry, little ghost, but this must be done. There is nothing more I would do to be with you longer, but we have to cease to be. The Ancient One must be made, and you are the perfect one to be that being. We Ancients have loved you as our own little one, and it hurts us to part with you. May you thrive for as long as you exist.

Love, Clockwork"

Danny holds (his) Clockwork's staff in one hand and (his) Pandora's shield in the other. His once happy demeanor has now become one of sadness. He has lost his family, twice, and is constantly being summoned by cults, fanatics, and others to either grant them power or conquer a world. He doesn't want to do those things. He just doesn't want to be alone again.

Maybe the man clad in all black in his recent summoning will be able to give him a family again.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC and Jamil: ...

MC: Don’t you find this entire vacation trip a bit suspicious?

Jamil: Why?

MC: They sent only us and allowed us to book just one hotel room.

MC: And if that's not enough, there's only one bed we can share.

Jamil: I'm not sharing it with you.

MC: Oh, I see. So you want me to sleep on the floor?

Jamil: ...

Jamil: I'm the servant—

MC: Sure, but I'm not your master.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Well, well, forgetting the ranks, are we?

MC: *already sitting on the floor* Yeah? I've got nothing in my name. That makes you higher than me.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: The floor's cold.

MC: Nah. It's just room temp.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: You'll catch a cold.

MC: My immune system is at its peak.

Jamil: Eat this porridge.

MC: *gets a fever from sleeping on the cold floor*

Jamil: Your immune system is at its peak, huh?

MC: Tch.

Jamil: What? Do you want me to feed you too?

MC: What are you? My husband?

Jamil: ...

MC: ...

MC: What?

Jamil: Nothing. Just eat your porridge. *turns around and exits the room*

MC: *confused*

Kalim: *whines* Mooooom~!! I want to be on vacation with them too!

His mom: You can't.

Kalim: Why not?

His mom: Your Dad and I believe they like each other.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: You mean as friends?

His mom: *chuckles* No, dear.

Kalim: *processing*

Kalim: ...

Kalim: OOHH!!! You really think so?!

His mom: Yes. And hopefully, they will realize it sooner.

MC: *is still on the floor even after Jamil tried to convince them to move in the bed*

Jamil: Don't blame me if your fever gets worsened.

MC: Sure.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: You still remember when we were kids?

MC: Yeah? What about that?

Jamil: I realized...

Jamil: You were less stupid back then.

MC: *gets up* Huh?

Jamil: *chuckles* Good night.

MC: ...

MC: What the—

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Hypothermia.

Pairing: Yandere!Winter Spirit x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Hypothermia, Obsessive Behavior, Implied/Mentioned Death, Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Implied Cannibalism.

You’d heard, once, that in its final stages, freezing to death could actually be quite warm.

It was called paradoxical undressing, or something similar enough to warrant the connection. First, you’d be shivering and lost, then rigid and confused, and in the final moments of your life, hypothermia would compel you to spend your last drops of energy stripping yourself of all things good and warming, ridding yourself of any barriers that might’ve saved you from its fatal touch. In the end, you’d die paralyzed, breathless, and worst of all, convinced that you were the warmest you’d ever been. It was a cruel thing to do to anyone, let alone a innocent victim of bad luck. That, or it was supposed to be a kindness, meant to make you feel just a little more at-home as you laid down and accepted what you couldn’t stave off. How you’d take it was something you couldn’t speak for just yet, but you had a feeling that would change soon enough.

So, to reiterate, you’d know you were freezing to death when you started to feel warm. Whether or not it was true, the superstition proved to be a small mercy, because you still felt pretty fucking cold.

You couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your arms were at least somewhat protected where they were tucked against your chest, half-buried underneath the heavy flannel you’d been able to steal on your way out, but there wasn’t anything you could do about how the snow and ice sunk into the leather of your boots, how the wind seemed to cut through the paper-thin denim of your jeans. A scarf saved your nose and mouth from the worst of the chill, but in the middle of the night, miles and miles and miles away from the nearest streetlamp or flashlight, you couldn’t afford to cover your eyes. It was a miracle that you weren’t crying. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to find out if your tears would freeze against your cheeks.

You took another shuffling step forward, and your foot caught on a half-buried tree root, sending you crumbling to the ground. Cold bit into your hands and knees, and you choked out a miserable whine, your dignity abandoned around the time you lost the ability to move your fingers. Not for the first time, you thought about turning back. You could still taste blood on your lips, sure, could still attempt to ignore the ache in your gut where hunger should’ve been, but nothing could’ve been worse than this. At least, next time you tried to run, you could do it during the day, when the cold would be just a little more forgiving. At least, next time, you could save yourself a few hours of trouble and drown yourself in the sink, right next to the other co—

Something flashed across your peripheral – movement, light. You shambled to your feet, snapping in the direction of a dull glow just barely bright enough to cut through the dark of the forest, to prove that there were other people wandering these godforsaken woods at this unholy time of night. You were exhausted beyond sleep, hopeless beyond aid, but still, you forced yourself to stumble around trees and over snowdrifts, to blink away the haziness in your vision and believe that the silhouette of a cabin you could see through the darkness was just that – a cabin. It was a small structure, no more than a couple of rooms, and you couldn’t see any roads or cars, but the windows were lit, and smoke was rising from the chimney, and the snow had been cleared away from the porch, proving that someone was actively taking care of the property. For the first time in hours, you dragged yourself onto something other than endless sleet and for the first time in your life, found yourself thankful to be walking on perfectly solid, perfectly dry earth.

You made it onto the porch before stopping. It was a stupid thing to worry about, really – whether or not some recluse living all alone in the middle of the woods would like you. The roads were closed, iced-over, and you weren’t going to get another chance to find help, but that also meant you weren’t going to find other help. If the cabin’s owner didn’t take kindly to uninvited guests, then you might’ve been better off wandering back into the forest. There were worse things in the world than the cold.

…

Actually, on second thought, there really weren’t. Before you could hesitate again, you brought a fist to the door and knocked stiffly. It swung open in an instant.

You blinked once, then twice, before acknowledging the man standing in the now-open doorway. Saying he looked out of place would’ve been an understatement. Rather than the old, grisly, lumberjack-type you’d been expecting, he almost seemed princely – a little too tall and a little too angular, willowy in a way that made you feel smaller by comparison. His skin was bone-white, like the blood running underneath it was blue rather than red, and his shoulder-length hair was so pale, calling it any shade of blonde wouldn’t have done justice to its absolute lack of color. He was dressed for another season – his white tunic long-sleeved, but thin and open to the navel, and his pants made out of a similarly unsubstantial type of linen. His eyes were the worst part, the same pale blue as open sky or clear water. The color wasn’t damning on its own, but something about the lighting made his pupils seem nonexistent – shades of blue spiraling into themselves indefinitely. You might’ve thought he was blind if his gaze hadn’t been so tangibly fixed on you.

“My love,” he sighed, each word slightly distorted by an accent you couldn’t name. Then, with a slight gasp, “Come in, come in. Ah, poor thing, you’re already half-frozen.”

More than half, but you weren’t in a place to correct him. “…I’m sorry to bother you,” you muttered, letting yourself be swept into the cabin and all-but dropped into an armchair so close to the fireplace, it felt like the flames were licking at your knees. You shuffled that much closer and peeled off your scarf, embarrassed not to have thought to do so before knocking.

While your host fluttered around you, mumbling about hot drinks and meals, you took another stab at explaining yourself. Even if he wasn’t listening, it couldn’t hurt to make yourself seem that much more unfortunate. “I—I’m staying in another cabin a few miles up the mountain. It was me and a few friends, but the snowstorm caught us off-guard, and after losing power—”

“They always seem to,” he cut in, pausing behind you. A quilted blanket was draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it over your chest with no hesitation. “I can’t fathom why. The seasons change at the same time every year.”

You bit back a scowl, not sure whether to feel patronized or offended. “We were waiting for the roads to re-open, but there was an accident, and—”

“And you ran out of food.” Another log was thrown on the fire, sending tendrils of heat crawling up your arms and rooting into your chest. “I should make you some tea, shouldn’t I? Oh, or would you prefer something to eat?”

You should’ve been starving, but the idea of eating alone had you gagging on bile. You dropped your eyes into your lap. “…I’m alright, thank you. Just a little cold.”

There was another sigh, this one more dismissive than the first. You heard light footsteps against old wood, the sound delicate shifting, and then, he was perched on the lip of the fireplace, his chin propped on his fist and his expression wistful in a distant sort of way. Well, as much as you could see of it, anyway. You refused to let your gaze rise above his collarbones. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

The question was playful, accompanied by an airy laugh. This time, you couldn’t swallow your frown. “I’m sorry, but if we’ve met before, I don’t—”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” He seemed to have a problem with that – coming too quickly, before you were fully prepared to move on. “I think people are still calling me Boreas, but it has been some time since I last checked. I wouldn’t mind if you chose another name.”

“Bor,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I’m—”

“(Y/n).” You physically recoiled – crowding yourself against the back of your seat. Bor only laughed. “That’s my fault. It’s just—I’ve been so excited to meet you. There aren’t a lot of people who understand each other like we do.”

Huh.

Well, he was crazy, clearly. That was fine. It was still better than freezing to death. Probably.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he asked, practically grinning. “That’s alright. Winter’s a scary time, and we ought to seek refuge in one another.”

It was a sweet sentiment posed at the worst possible time. Memories of dark rooms and torn blankets flickered across your mind, but you did your best to keep them at bay. “I think I’ve had enough huddling, for a while.”

“Of course, nor would I expect otherwise. You’ll be comfortable here, I promise. We’ll knit, and embroider, and cook – there’s quite a lot of things you can cook over an open fire. It’s a shame most people never get a chance to try it.” He paused, shook his head, as if cutting himself off. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? You must’ve walked an awfully long way.”

The idea of eating was still repulsive, but when you tried to reaffirm your rejection, you couldn’t quite seem to. You were starting to regain feeling in your chest again, and with it, your stomach. With the cold momentarily put aside, emptiness took precedent – exhaustion and thirst and would-be hunger forming a shell of hollowness at your core. You’d have to get out of this cabin at some point, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give yourself something to burn when you did.

“A cup of tea would be nice.”

Bor beamed. “I’ve already got the kettle on.”

And, just like that, he was gone, swept into another room before you could so much as mention that you preferred cream to sugar. With a deep exhale, you collapsed against the back of your chair, glancing around the cabin’s interior. It was larger than you guessed – the living room alone bigger than the entirety of its exterior would’ve suggested. Your tired eyes glanced over shelves of clutter and knickknacks, tables crowded with well-worn books and half-emptied mugs, chairs and sofas all piled high with pillows and blankets in every shape and color and form you could imagine. It would’ve been homey, under better circumstances. Even now, under circumstances that were very much not better, you found yourself slackening, shifting, closing your eyes for just a touch longer than you should’ve. By the time Bor blustered back in, a teacup in either hand, you were tracing the delicate conch shells carved into either armrest of your seat just to keep yourself awake. He waited patiently for you to pick yourself up, accept the cup, and bring it eagerly to your lips.

The taste was familiar and light – peppermint, or something similarly seasonal. Rather than returning to his post by the hearth, Bor perched himself on the arm of your chair. “Isn’t that better?” And then, before your addled mind could thing to answer, “It must’ve been difficult – being all alone for so long. I’d say I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt, but I had plenty of time to imagine.”

You drained half the cup before managing to drag it far enough away from your mouth to respond. “It was only a few days.”

“Far more than you should’ve had to endure. I was tempted to send you company, but—” His smile took on a bashful lilt. “You wouldn’t have liked it. Maybe later on, if I’m ever forced to leave you on your own again.”

“You make it sound like I’m not going home.”

He was almost too quick to clarify, laughing as he strung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. He was cold as ice, but you let him – too tired to resist. “And we’d never want you to think something like that, would we? I already feel terrible about how long you had to stay away.”

His words were sympathetic, but that was all. You could still make out the crescent moon of his smile, the glee in his voice, the satisfaction in how tightly he held you against him. Bristling, you tried to pull away, but you must’ve spent more of your strength than you realized. As soon as you drew back, a spear of pure cold bit into your arm where his hand was curled around it, then your chest, sending you shrinking and shivering into his side. Bor only hummed, raking his fingers through your hair. “Tired, darling?” You wanted to refuse, to pull yourself together, to leave, but even as you started to shake your head, you knew it just wasn’t possible. Slowly, shakily, you managed to nod, and Bor rewarded you with a ginger kiss to the top of your head. His lips were as cold as his skin. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Walking was a fantasy – as implausible as flying pigs or Christmas in July. You made no effort to protest as Bor gathered you in his arms and, with a surprising amount of strength for his lean form, carried you deeper into the cabin. The passing scenery blurred together, your mind too exhausted and your vision too fogged to hold focus. You only fully processed where he was taking you when you felt your back press into something soft – a bed, one softer and warmer than anything you’d ever felt, before.

It was nice. As if by instinct, your hands found the buttons of your borrowed flannel, fumbling for a moment before a more capable pair took over. Your shoes were done away with next, then your jeans, leaving you in just your oversized undershirt. You wouldn’t have minded if he took that, too. Anything to make you feel a little less overheated.

Eventually, his weight settled next to yours, and with your eyes shut, you curled into him – resting your head in his lap as he rubbed freezing shapes into your back. By some miracle, you found the will to speak, if only in a whisper. “I didn’t hurt anyone. It was an accident.”

“I know. No one would say that you did.”

“It’s what they would’ve wanted. Not all of us had to die.”

“My thoughts exactly. We should take care of each other, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t want to go home.” You could still taste the iron on your tongue – raw meat tinged with ice-cold ash. “I don’t think I can.”

A chirping laugh filled the bedroom – bright and piercing and as cutting as a cold wind through tender flesh. You forced yourself to open your eyes, and by anything but your own volition, met his. “But, love,” he murmured, leaning down to press a lingering kiss into your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, then finally, your lips.

In the brief moment before he pulled away, you genuinely believed you would never feel cold again.

“You’re already here.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Menor

It's not often that Eli gets to have all three of you in the same place, not with you off travelling the world for your tennis, practically in a different country every month.

But the winter months is one that she can almost guarantee you'll be home for.

You finish your tennis season on a high, lifting the trophy at the WTA Finals before you spend a few more weeks in Poland with your training team coming up with a rough schedule of what you want to compete in next year.

But you're home now which means that Eli has all three of her daughters in the same country. Which also means mandatory days out together on the run up to Christmas.

It's easier to get you sorted than Alexia - still playing football every week - and Alba, still teaching as the schools haven't gone on holiday yet.

You're back in your childhood bedroom and seem to delight in sleeping the day away and only getting up around two in the afternoon to migrate from your bed to the sofa.

Occasionally, you roll out of bed early in the morning to take part in some sponsorship commitments.

Your tennis season has been nothing short of extraordinary this year and you've somehow become Nike Tennis' golden girl along the way with all of your tennis gear bar your racket being supplied by them.

Like how now, you and Alexia are wearing the exact same Nike shoes as you all walk through the Christmas market together.

"Mami!" You complain over the noise of the crowd," Mami, make them stop!"

Somewhere between the stall making handmade Santas and the stall with fresh paella, Alexia has gotten you into a headlock and is none too kindly ruffling your hair while Alba pinches your cheek between two fingers.

"She started it!" Alexia yells back.

"Alexia," Eli says with a sigh," You are thirty years old-"

"Yeah, Alexia!" You butt in," You're old."

"No, y/n, that's not what I meant," Eli tries to correct you but she's interrupted yet again.

"Yeah, older than you!" Alexia says," Which means you're meant to do what I say! Listen to your elders!"

"Oh? So you're elderly now? Maybe you should sit down, Ale, and rest your old back!"

You shove her off of you, stamping on her foot before taking off down the street.

"Hey! Get back here!" Alexia yells, taking off after you as she forces her way through the crowd.

Alba shakes her head in mock disapproval. "You know, Mami-"

"No, Alba," Eli says," I will not only buy you stuff tonight. Stop trying to get your sisters in trouble."

Alba shrugs. "It was worth a shot."

By the time Eli and Alba catch up, you and Alexia have forgotten whatever argument you've been having in favour of nosing around some of the stalls together.

Somehow in the time it's taken for Eli and Alba to return, you've both gotten cups of hot chocolate with caramel sauce and marshmallows along with little Christmas ornaments to hang on the tree.

"Must you two spend so much money?" Alba complains as she points at the little paper bags that Eli hadn't even noticed.

"It's not our fault that we've got a lot of it saved up."

Alba rolls her eyes. "It's exactly your fault! You don't have to keep winning so much in prize money."

You shrug. "It's not my fault I'm good at what I do."

"It's your fault you're not spending it on me," Alba says, tongue poking out of her mouth.

"If I buy you stuff, will I get sister points?"

Alba doesn't even have to think about it. "Yes."

You grin. "What do you want?"

Eli sighs. "Alba, please stop exploiting your little sister's goodwill."

"Yeah Alba," Alexia butts in, her own tongue sticking out," Don't exploit our little sister."

"You do it all the time!"

"I'm allowed to!"

"Girls," Eli says wearily," Please stop exploiting each other."

It's a weak request, one that Eli knows will be ignored but she has to at least attempt it, if only to look like a good mother in a crowd of strangers.

She easily tunes out the bickering of the three of you as she turns to the hot chocolate stall and buys herself a cup of it.

You and Alexia have good taste, she can give you that because it's delightfully creamy and Eli takes a long gulp before turning back around.

She's not surprised that the three of you have disappeared.

In all honesty, she's surprised you all stuck around for so long.

Usually, the three of you go off by yourselves the moment you step into a market. Eli's kind of been a bit antsy for you to all disappear. She does her best Christmas shopping when none of you are around.

"Alexia!" You complain," Hurry up! Alba's saving us a spot in line."

"But..." Alexia pretends to stumble, making herself seem suddenly weak and weary. "I...I don't know if I can go on! You know, with my old bones!"

"Alexia, you're so dramatic!"

She grins. "Yes."

"Come on!" You say," I want to go on the drop ride!"

"You always want to go on the drop ride!"

"Exactly," You say, pulling her more forcefully than before," Because it's tradition! Don't ruin tradition!"

Alexia laughs, finally having stopped digging her heels in to throw her arm over your shoulder.

"You know I'll never break tradition."

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Ultimate Distraction | LN4

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, a new couple just a month into their relationship, are still exploring the exciting depths of their connection, both emotionally and physically. While visiting Lando’s apartment in Monaco, Y/N finds herself craving his attention late one night as he’s absorbed in a gaming session in the room next to his bedroom. Unable to resist her desire, she decides to surprise him by slipping under his desk.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.5k

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The soft glow of Lando’s gaming monitor cast shadows across the room, illuminating his focused expression as his fingers danced over the keyboard. He was in the zone, his racing game demanding every ounce of his attention. The hum of the PC and the occasional click of the mouse were the only sounds breaking the silence of the late Monaco night.

Y/n lay in bed just a room away, staring at the ceiling. He’s been at it for hours, she thought, her pulse quickening with a mix of frustration and desire. She had tried to distract herself, scrolling through her phone, reading a book, even attempting to sleep. But the memory of Lando’s hands on her skin, the way he whispered her name when they were alone together, kept pulling her back.

She shifted in bed, feeling the heat building between her thighs. I want him. The thought was insistent, almost maddening. She glanced at the clock—it was past midnight. And there he was, still glued to his PC, oblivious to the world outside his screen.

Enough waiting.

With a determined breath, Y/n slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly across the cool floor. She wore nothing but one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she moved toward his room. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from nervousness, but from anticipation. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Lando didn’t notice her at first, too engrossed in his game. His headset blocked out any sound, his eyes locked on the monitor as he navigated a tricky corner on the virtual track. Y/n paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his lips twitched into a small smirk when he nailed a perfect drift—it all stirred something deep inside her.

He’s so hot when he’s focused like this.

Without a word, she dropped to her knees and crawled under his desk, the space cramped but manageable. Lando’s legs were bracketed by the chair, his jeans-clad thighs inches from her face. She could smell his cologne, subtle but intoxicating, mingling with the faint musk of his body. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the button of his jeans, her breath hitching when she felt the warmth radiating from him.

Lando froze mid-game, his hand hovering over the mouse. “What the—” he started, his voice muffled by the headset. He leaned back slightly, trying to peer under the desk. “Y/n? What are you doing?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief in the dim light. “Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. “Keep playing.”

“Wait, what?” he stammered, his voice higher than usual. But before he could protest further, Y/n undid his jeans and pulled them down just enough to free his hardening length. Her warm breath ghosted over his skin, and Lando’s breath hitched.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his grip tightening on the edge of the desk. But instead of stopping her, he found himself unable to move, trapped between shock and arousal.

Y/n didn’t give him time to think. She leaned forward, her lips wrapping around him in one smooth motion. Lando let out a strangled groan, his head falling back against the chair. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily.

But Y/n wasn’t done teasing him. She pulled back slowly, her tongue tracing the sensitive underside of his shaft before taking him into her mouth again, deeper this time. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in tandem with her mouth, each movement deliberate and unhurried.

“Y/n, I can’t—” Lando started, his voice strained. He fumbled for the headset, tugging it off and letting it dangle around his neck. “You’re going to make me lose.”

“Then don’t lose,” she murmured, her lips still pressed against him. She gazed up at him through her lashes, her eyes dark with desire. “Keep playing.”

Lando groaned, torn between the game and the woman currently driving him out of his mind. His hand hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether to keep going or surrender completely. But Y/n’s insistence was impossible to ignore. With a shaky breath, he turned his attention back to the screen, his fingers trembling slightly as they resumed their position.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. If anything, he sounded wrecked already.

Y/n smirked, her lips curving around him as she picked up the pace. Her tongue swirled around the tip, eliciting another sharp intake of breath from Lando. She could feel him struggling to focus, his movements on the keyboard growing sloppier with each passing second.

“Concentrate,” she teased, her voice low and sultry. “Unless you want to crash.”

Lando gritted his teeth, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the desk. “You’re making this fucking impossible,” he growled, though his resolve was clearly crumbling.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a thrill through him. Her hand tightened around his shaft, her strokes becoming faster, more insistent. Lando’s breathing grew ragged, his concentration shattered as pleasure overwhelmed him.

“Y/n, I’m serious,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you don’t stop—”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate him. Lando swore under his breath, his hips bucking instinctively. The controller slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the desk as he reached for her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.

“Fuck the game,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. But Y/n pulled back, her lips slick and swollen as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin.

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not quitting. Not yet.”

She leaned forward again, this time flicking her tongue against the sensitive spot just beneath the head, eliciting a shuddering moan from Lando. Her hand moved in sync with her mouth, her strokes deliberate and slow, dragging him closer to the edge without letting him fall.

“Y/n,” he gasped, his free hand clutching at the armrest of his chair. “I can’t—you’re killing me.”

She ignored his plea, her focus entirely on him. Her lips sealed around him once more, her tongue swirling as she took him deeper, pushing herself further than before. Lando’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to maintain control.

On the screen, his car veered off the track, spinning out in a cloud of virtual dust. Lando didn’t even notice, too consumed by the sensations coursing through him. His fingers clenched in her hair, gently guiding her movements, urging her to take him even deeper.

“So good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

Y/n responded by hollowing her cheeks, the suction intensifying as she increased the pressure. Her hand moved faster, matching the rhythm of her mouth, every stroke bringing him closer to the edge. She could feel him trembling beneath her, his thighs tense, his breath hitching with every pass of her tongue.

“Y/n, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained. “Too close.”

But instead of pulling back, she doubled down, her mouth working him with relentless precision. Her other hand reached up to fondle him, her fingers grazing over sensitive flesh, pressing against him in just the right way. Lando’s grip on her hair tightened, his body tensing as pleasure coiled tightly in his core.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking upward, unable to hold back any longer. “Y/n, I—”

She didn’t let him finish. Her mouth enveloped him completely, swallowing him as he finally gave in to the overwhelming sensation, waves of pleasure crashing over him. His entire body stiffened, his release spilling into her waiting mouth, each pulse accompanied by a choked gasp from his lips.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound in the room Lando’s ragged breathing as he slumped back in his chair, utterly spent. Y/n pulled back slowly, her lips brushing against him one last time before she settled back on her heels, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“Told you,” she said softly, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You didn’t have to stop playing.”

Lando stared at her, his chest still heaving, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. “You’re unbelievable,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse. He reached for her, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes locking with his, before crawling out from under the desk and standing up. Lando wasted no time, pulling her into his lap and capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands roamed over her body, eager to return the favor, to show her just how much she affected him.

But Y/n pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss with a soft laugh. “Not yet,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest. “You still haven’t finished your race.”

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, though there was no real malice in his tone.

She smirked, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Then consider me your favorite executioner.”

[distant-screaming]

imagine you are a maid who works for ithaca's royalty. you're not, like, always the most up to date on gossip, because you have things to do and knowing what date the king and queen went on this week is not going to make the floors any less dirty. so, whatever. one thing even you know, though, is that the king is leaving for war. which sucks, probably, you've heard things about war, and also your cousin's part of the crew headed to troy and the queen looks like she's about to stab whoever tries to touch her so you really hope they stay safe and come back in one piece, for everyone else in the palace's sake at least. still, it doesn't change the fact that the floors need cleaning. so you get cleaning. and then you wake up one day with men in the palace. suitors, they call themselves. and you're like, okay, whatever, guests. except they never leave. they just. stay. day after day after week after month and then suddenly it's years, just hanging around. and, really, do none of them have jobs? goodness. and they have absolutely no respect for the workers of the palace, which is a bit frustrating because your back is hurting from how much extra cleaning you're doing for no discernable reason other than just because the suitors find some nonexistent dirt. still, whatever, it doesn't really matter to you, so you clean the floors and try your best to avoid running into any of them. you have things to do. the prince is cute, and he waddles around everywhere and gets his muddy little prints on everything but you feel nothing negative towards him because he's cute and tries to awkwardly make conversation. so you give him a smile and scrub the floors clean and go back to your room and fall asleep, exhausted. and years pass, and you age, and your hair starts graying and you wonder if maybe it's time to retire but the fearful and tired look in the younger girls' eyes makes you stay. you can't just - leave them. whatever. clean the floors. there's something to do with the queen and a shroud and lying, you're not entirely sure. your job is to clean floors and the queen is polite when you dart into her room occasionally, so. whatever. and then fifteen, eighteen, twenty years later - you're barely out of bed when one of the girls barrels into your room, screaming with excitement - the king is back. the king is back and he brings destruction in his wake. you hurry upstairs and you are greeted with a docked bow and a familiar face, now older and warier and more haggard, and you pause. he looks at you, and his eyes are - sharp, bright, focused, but also a bit unclear. like he's looking at one thing while also avoiding it. he blinks, once, and then looks away. a movement from the other side of the room - a suitor, you recognize, one who takes extra pleasure in watching the girls scrub the floor in front of him - and then there's an arrow lodged into his chest, followed by a scream of agony and then nothing. well. alright. you look around for a couple of moments, then turn back around and head to the kitchen, rooting around the storage cupboard for spare cloths. this whole return is well and good and there's probably political stuff happening here but, like, you don't really care. the king is cleaning house, and you should too. that's your job.

[ellecdc]

"still?" "always."

Finnick Odair x hijacked!reader who asks what's real or not real [2k words]

summary: a District Thirteen reunion story heavily inspired by the brilliant @ervotica's fic 'a life of our own' & @/ilguna's 'hijacked'! Reader was tortured much like Peeta was into fearing Finnick, finding her playing the game 'real or not real'

CW: fem!reader, discussion of past torture [not described], reader tortured into believing Finnick did abhorrent and disgusting things to her [not described], medical personnel acting as villains sort of, hurt/comfort, hopeful/open ending

Finnick drummed his fingers against the paperback book that he brought with him to your hospital room every day which acted as nothing more than a glorified prop. 

Routine was a word that came to dictate much of Finnick’s life recently; stability. Ritualized schedules were the norm in District Thirteen. But more importantly, routine, stability, and ritualized schedules were deemed necessary and important to your recovery. 

Thus, Finnick drummed his fingers against the paperback book - the same paperback book - that he brought with him to your hospital room every day - at the exact same time - which acted as nothing more than a glorified prop. 

He’d been following more or less the same routine ever since you’d been rescued from the Capitol a few weeks ago, though Finnick could admit visiting you felt slightly better now than it had in the beginning. 

The beginning had been nothing short of heartbreaking for him. The beginning had been nothing short of torturous for you. 

There’d been a hunch in place of hard evidence that the lot of you were being tortured in the Capitol, though to what extent no one knew. And absolutely no one was prepared for what awaited them by the time the three of you were safe in District Thirteen.

Peeta had promptly tried to off Katniss which was very off brand of him; Johanna’s head had been shaved, she was emaciated, and had a plethora of evidence of gruesome physical torture, and you…

You weren’t filled with the same loathing, hatred, and disgust that Peeta seemed to carry for Katniss. No, you were completely and utterly terrified. 

Medics had to sedate you when Finnick rushed into the room upon hearing of your arrival because you’d thrown yourself against the wall so violently you’d split your head open, then nearly ripped your nails clean off your fingers in your desperation to open a locked door in an attempt to escape from him. And if that hadn’t been devastating enough, the sounds of your guttural screams and desperate cries caused by him still haunted many of Finnick’s nightmares.

Finnick had been hesitant to return to you after that; he didn’t want to ever cause you that much distress again. 

Haymitch tried to reason with him; Finnick wasn’t the one causing you this much distress, it was the Capitol. The medics tried to reason with him; it was to be considered exposure therapy, they hoped that - over time - as you regained some familiarity and comfort with him and worked through your memories and trauma with the doctors that you’d start to remember.

He reluctantly agreed. So, he was horrified when, the first day he returned, you’d been strapped down to your bed in preparation for his meeting. 

“This is sick!” He’d shouted at the medics as he gestured at your current state. “This isn’t exposure therapy, this is torture!”

“Mr. Odair, the hope is that once she begins to realize there’s no need to fight or run, we’ll be able to take the restraints off.” One of them explained in a bored manner. 

“Fuck whatever you’re hoping for! You’re torturing her; she’s not going to feel any safer here than she did in the Capitol!” 

They’d tried calling after him, but he simply looked over at you and offered a pathetic “I’m sorry, honey” that you probably hadn’t heard over your own desperate wails before he fled.

The next day he returned, you hadn’t been strapped down, but you had been heavily medicated with some kind of sedative before his arrival. He swallowed around the bile in his throat as he took a seat in one of the chairs, pretended to read his book and tried his hardest to ignore the extremely wary and haunted gaze that stayed glued to his side for the entirety of his visit. 

The third visit went much the same, except about halfway through his scheduled ‘visit’, he noticed that your eyes seemed to fall extremely heavy. 

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” He murmured quietly, though you would have thought he’d screamed at you with the way you bodily flinched and your eyes snapped open. 

He just continued watching you as you fought to convince your heart to return to its normal tempo, slowly, cautiously nodding your head yes to his question when you seemed to realize he was earnest in his question. 

“Would you like me to leave so you can get some rest?” 

Your brows furrowed ever so subtly, eyes darting across his face as you searched for any hidden meaning or potential threat. 

You must not have found one. 

“Please.” You whispered, and - though it was still but a whisper -  it was the first time he had heard your voice since the Quarter Quell that wasn’t shrieking and sobbing in fear, causing a lump to form in his throat.

“Okay, honey, I’ll go.” He whispered back, smiling at you through tears as he stood and swiftly left the room, hardly closing the door fully behind him before he let out a sob. 

Over the weeks, you began finding your own routine and schedule outside of the time you spent working with doctors and medics. You were hardly ever seen without your journal on your person, and one of your doctors explained to Finnick that you were beginning to compile notes to differentiate between things you knew, things that you didn’t know, and what was real or not real. Many times, Finnick could find you working in your journal when he arrived, and though you still managed to keep a concerned eye on him at any given point and your body never fully relaxed while he was there, he was grateful you were becoming more or less accustomed to his company. 

And then one day he showed up to your room to find one wall completely transformed into a giant drawing board. The board was divided into two equal sides; one side was labelled REAL and one side was labelled NOT REAL. The only thing that had been written down so far was on the NOT REAL side, which read “Finnick did not set you up and leave you there to die.”

“She’s been struggling to sleep without the aid of sedatives; she wakes up quite violently from nightmares, struggling to differentiate between what is real and what is not, even when we’re standing right there in front of her.” One of the medics told him. “We tried once to have her look through her journal, but she threw it across the room and told us to get away from her. We thought maybe having a very large visualization in front of her in her own writing would be helpful to tether her to reality upon waking.” 

And that seemed all well in good, but Finnick found himself sick over some of the things the Capitol had convinced you he was guilty of more than once. 

But, if this is what you needed, if this was helping you, Finnick would stomach it, no questions asked. 

So, Finnick drummed his fingers against the paperback book that he brought with him to your hospital room every day which acted as nothing more than a glorified prop. 

He knocked twice gently on your door before stepping inside, watching as you stepped quickly away from the board and hid the marker and eraser behind your back as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, watching Finnick as though you were waiting for him to attack. 

“Hi, honey.” He greeted quietly, nodding politely at you before he pulled out his chair and took his place, flipping his book open to an arbitrary page as he pretended to read. 

You didn’t move; your feet seemed to be glued to the spot as you watched Finnick pretend to not be watching you. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had missed your gaze, quite selfishly, and found that while the atmosphere wasn’t exactly relaxed, he was happy enough just to have your eyes on him again. 

Finnick wasn’t sure how much time had passed before you ended up breaking the silence.

“F…Finnick?” You asked, barely above a whisper; question so quiet that Finnick was sure if he hadn’t only been pretending to read, he would have missed it entirely.

You sounded as though you were trying his name out for size, just to see how it felt on your tongue. Finnick missed the days when you used to squeal his name in laughter, or groan his name in frustration, or call his name in excitement. But even though it came out cautious and stilted, he didn’t think he’d ever heard as pretty a sound as the sound of his name falling from your lips. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked eagerly, fighting to keep his tone, face, and body language calm as he saved his ‘place’ with a finger and leaned forward in his chair, resting his knees on his elbows. 

You swallowed thickly and fiddled with the marker in your hands as you stole yourself to speak. “Can I ask you something?” 

He wanted to be an ass; he wanted to say ‘you just asked me two things’, he wanted to whoop and holler at finally having an actual conversation with you after weeks of finally having you back, yet not really having you back at all. 

Instead, all he said was “of course.”

You cleared your throat before gaining the courage to ask what he heard as “you love me; real, or not real?” 

Finnick wasn’t sure an answer had ever come to him so fast. “Real.”

You seemed somewhat surprised by his answer even though it was clearly the answer you’d been expecting. After a few moments, you simply nodded at him before turning back to your drawing board’s REAL side. 

Finnick loved me you wrote, adding bullet points underneath it...

He told me so

He acts like it

Gut feeling

...is what you cited as proof to this revelation. Finnick wanted to weep. A gut feeling; you were still in there, somewhere. There was still a version of you that knew deep down that Finnick loved you.

“It’s not quite right, honey.” He offered softly, fighting the urge to smile when you turned at his interruption, yet didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice as you often did. You simply looked at him in confusion. 

“Do you mind if I make a minor adjustment?” He asked as he carefully placed his book on your empty bed and slowly stood, holding his hands out in ask. 

You looked between him and the marker and eraser in your hands before holding them out for him; an invitation. 

Finnick smiled at you as he slowly walked towards you, hyper focused on remaining as unthreatening as possible as he gently took the items from you, careful not to touch you unnecessarily. 

He moved to the REAL side of the board, using the edge of the eraser to remove the d from the end of loved and replacing it with an s. The sentence now - properly - read Finnick loves me. 

“There, now it’s perfect.” He offered you with another smile as he held the items back out to you, gently placing them in your hands when you held them open for him before he turned back towards his chair, retrieved his book, and sat back down. 

Your eyes stayed glued on the correction he made to your board as the marker and eraser hovered uselessly midair; moments dragging on before your arms finally lowered to your sides. 

Finnick didn’t bother pretending to read, so when you turned to look at him - face full of confusion, curiosity, concern, and what looked to be devastation - you found him already looking at you. 

“Still?” You asked, voice cracking painfully as a heavy tear fell down your face. 

And if Finnick thought that no answer had ever come faster to him before, he was sorely mistaken. 

“Always.” He promised.

[manicmanuscription]

Matching PJ's

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel get matching PJ's for Solstice

Word Count: 1137

Warnings: Intense makeout session, fluff, Azriel being obsessed and possessive.

─── ♡ ───

The River House was abuzz with excitement, wine flowing just as freely as the conversation. Wrapping paper littered the floor as it finally came time to open present’s and you snuggled into Azriel’s chest leaning further into him as you sat on his lap and his arm wrapped possessively around your waist. Ever since you two mated you introduced a new tradition to the family from Winter Court where you were from. 

After dinner everyone opened up Solstice PJ’s. Each couple of the inner circle picking out matching ones for a different mated pair. Cassian and Nesta just showed off their glittery gold pajamas that looked more like lingerie than actual sleeping wear, Cassian giving off a final spin as everyone cheered and Nesta just rolled her eyes at his antics. Mor clapping the loudest at her choice of clothing for the couple.

“Thank you, Thank you.” He boasted before finally settling on one of the couches pulling his mate with him. “Alright! Y/N and Azriel’s turn.” Cassian grinned wildly. “Don’t worry guys, we picked some really good ones for you.” He said with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him, you’ve had some pretty awful and some pretty amazing pj’s ever since introducing this fun little game.

Cassian was determined to find something that would embarrass Azriel the few times he drew your names from the bowl. You stood up from your seat, catching the wrapped bundle from Nesta before making your way to the bathroom, Azriel following close behind you. 

“Nothing can be worse than what they got Feyre and Rhys last year.” Azriel reminded you as you ripped open the gift, you chuckled at the memory of the neon green pj’s that came with sewn in lights the couple had been forced to wear all night. “I wouldn’t underestimate Cassian.” You respond and Azriel hummed in agreement. 

You both made quick work of shedding your clothes. Azriel’s eyes tracking every movement you made and when you were nothing but in your undergarments he couldn’t stop himself from pressing you up against the bathroom counter kissing you deeply as his hands settled on your waist, slowly moving down to your thighs with each slide of his tongue against yours.

You slowly forgot about the people waiting for you and whimpered softly against his mouth, tugging at the strands of his hair and he groaned, pressing his hips against yours. 

Azriel lifted you up and set you on top of the counter, sliding in between your thighs and titled your head back with a slight tug of your hair so he could gain further control of the kiss. You let out another moan and tried to grip the counter behind you for support. 

The sound of the soap dispenser falling into the sink brought you back down to earth and you pulled away from him. “You’re naughty, Spymaster.” You reprimanded, his eyes still glazed over with lust as he smirked. “Can’t help it.” Azriel breathed out slowly, his hands still settled on your waist.

You blushed embarrassed you almost let him fuck you while his family was still a few halls down. Azriel couldn’t help the male pride at your flushed cheeks and he nipped at your earlobes. You giggled and squirmed, finally pulling away from him and sliding off the counter. “You need to stop that!” You exclaimed, fighting a smile off. “Your family is just in the other room.”

Azriel made a show of putting his hands behind his back, and taking a mini step away from you. His eyes scanned over your body before you hid the magnificent sight away, sliding up the fuzzy plaid pants Nesta and Cassian bought for you. 

Once you were fully dressed Azriel had an even harder time taking his eyes off of you. He didn’t know what his brother was thinking when he bought the matching black and red set but he was going to kill him.

You both had matching black and red pants, it hung low on his hips and he didn’t miss the way your eyes trailed down his V-line or his muscular arms as he slid the tight red shirt on. He was surprised at how mellow the set was until he saw your tank top. It was a crop top with lacy trailing the hem and the straps crisscrossed in the back, not only was it tight but it had an extremely low cut on the front.

It accented your assets perfectly, your ass on perfect display and the little tease of your pierced belly button had his cock straining in his pants. Cassian and Nesta had somehow gotten your exact measurements, each piece of clothing hugging you perfectly like a second skin, highlighting every beautiful curve and dip of your body. You grabbed your clothes and Azriel’s, magicking them away to your house and turned to face him noticing the dark expression in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face and gave him a little spin. “You like?” You asked cheekily and Azriel let out a pained sound. “You’re going to kill me.” He whispered, stepping close to you and pulling you into him as he kissed you even more passionately than before.

His grip tightened and his touch grew more demanding as he slowly walked you into the wall, his kiss left you breathless and his lips moved to your neck and then eventually your shoulder. “Azriel we have to go-“ You started but he cut you off with a growl and a firm kiss, demanding control as he let himself explore your mouth as if he had never tasted you before.

You went limp in his arms moaning embarrassedly loud. Azriel hiked one of your legs over your waist and soon a loud demanding knock echoed through the bathroom. 

“Come on! Your five minutes are up, we don't need a repeat of Cassian and Nesta from last year!” Morrigan yelled loudly. Azriel ignored her kissing you even deeper and holding you even tighter while she kept loudly knocking. Finally you found the strength to pull away. “Azriel.” You warned and he let out a groan of frustration but pulled away, setting you back down on the floor and brushing your hair with his fingers as you tried to make yourself look presentable. Before you left the bathroom Azriel gave you a look that promised he wasn’t done with you and you gave him a kiss on the cheek conveying your excitement. 

Finally you opened the door and Mor gave you a knowing smirk before the three of you headed back to the living room. Whoops and cheers erupted as you made your debut and Cassian let out a long wolf-whistle at the sight of you.

“Looking nice Y/N.” Nesta smirked and Azriel cut down everyone’s excitement shortly, pulling you into his lap and shadows hid most of you from view, his hands gripping your waist with an intensity that you loved. 

“You’re a dead male Cassian.”

[strwberri-milk]

Could you please give headcanons on how Sylus and Rafayel would react if MC is used to people putting work before them? Like they grew knowing work comes first so if the guys have work commitments that take a long time or they go a while without talking, MC isn’t bothered or phased. They’re just happy to be talking again, and when unable they just busy themselves. Hope this made sense. Kind if sad comfort vibes, lol.

Sylus is good at focusing but not to the point of ignoring you. He realises something's off when he tries to figure out what the last thing you said to him was and figures it's been a while since then. You're still quietly keeping to yourself, clearly patiently waiting for him to give you attention once again. He clears his throat, this time as a way of signalling that he's finally done. Your head perks up immediately at the sound, making him chuckle a little as he beckons for you to come over to him.

Whenever he finds himself too busy to text you it almost upsets him that you respond without seeming to mind it all too much. He wants you to be mad at him, or at least annoyed that he couldn't find time to get to his phone (which does not happen - his phone was taken away from him for a period of time). You reply as though it hasn't been a week since he last was able to speak to you, prompting him to ask if he's done something.

It takes a while for him to figure out exactly what's happening but when he sorts out that you think his work is more important to him than you he rolls his eyes. There's no way you could ever think that because as far as he's concerned everything he does is for you. He'd quickly have you unlearning that habit, reassuring you that whenever you want him he's there because all he wants is you needing him.

There's no way you could feasibly feel like Rafayel puts work before you. You've witnessed just how annoying he gets when he doesn't want to work, trying your best to help out Thomas by bribing Rafayel with things if he promises to just sit down and actually paint for a few hours.

When he actually does lock in though it will be days until you get something out of him that isn't just a grunt. His phone dies and he doesn't pick up his calls but you're used to it so it doesn't bother you. It takes him until he's actually about to collapse from exhaustion to realise how long it's been since the last time he saw you and he is not very happy about that one. Once his phone is finally returned to the land of the living he spams you with texts and calls, telling you to come over and see him.

You're pretty calm considering he accidentally ignored you for a few days. He was hoping you'd have some stronger emotion besides just brushing him off and reassuring him that it's fine and you really don't actually mind. After a bit of prodding he finally figures out what's happening and tells you that he doesn't care when or how - he wants nothing more than for you to monopolise his attention or at least just hang out with him as he works. He loves you and wants to spend as much time as possible with you.

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Part 2: The Dead Ones

Tag list: @pix-stuff, @sweetconnoissurgarden, @craftymoonchaos, @jsprien213, @hebaoffside, @bunbunboysworld, @melonylla, @numbu5, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @formulas-bitch, @fantasyhopperhea, @otterluver05, @caged-birdies-blog, @minkyungseokie, @una1002289, @vanessa-boo, @welpthisisboring, @sirenetheblogger, @salfishers, @meeeeeeee-stuff, @eylsiankub, @lilithskywalker, @midnightprocrastinator, @lilyalone, @cloudserenity, @wizzerreblogs, @reallynotsoconfident, @deliajo, @bitternsweet, @astterrial, @jjggdfvvy

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---__---___---___---___---

You and Bruce were in his office, you let out a puff of smoke as you stood by the window. Taking in the view.

"You know, in Arkham, there wasn't any bars on the windows. More like, plastic glass, so blurry I couldn't even see the moon clearly." The cigarette shortened even more as you took a long drag from the cigarette.

Bruce watched you from his desk, an unreadable expression on his face. You look so. . . it's hard for him to see you as who you are right now. Deep down Bruce knew you'd change some way after Arkham. Which was his sorry excuse for not visiting you. Only reading three of your letters, and stopped, he felt shame when it came to you. For which one of you, he doesn't know.

There are times, he did feel shame of being your father. Horrible, he knows. He's the worst father alive. And that's when he feels shameful of himself.

You let out a small sigh before turning to Bruce, you see the complex expression he had.

". . . You know Daddy, I don't think I ever seen you smile."

You walked closer to his desk and took a seat on one of the chairs. Bruce just silently stared at you. You still call him Daddy. He wanted to feel happy at the fact one thing stayed the same with you. But the way you said it. You said it in such a mocking way. Like it was a joke. Him being your father was a joke to you. It hurt. He rather you call him Bruce in the most hateful way you could.

"Y/n, I'm sorry-" Bruce tries to apologize, but you cut him off with the wave of your hand.

"I'm not here to fish out any apology from you."

Silence fills the room. You sighed again, putting out the cigarette by dropping it into a glass of water. You stood up and approached the vinyl player, you start it up as Bruce raised his brow in confusion. You turn around to face him

"Come on daddy, let's dance." You approached the older man, grabbing his arm and tugged him to stand. Even with how random your request was, Bruce complied, and you two began to slow dance together, the feeling was foreign to both.

The slow music continued as you two danced. You let your head rest on your father's shoulder, staring blankly at nothing. Bruce squeezed your hand. You began to realize. You have never been this close to Bruce. Always 4 feet away.

"When I was a little girl, there was this daddy daughter dance at school. . . I always wanted to dance with you like this. But you were busy. I understood, but it still hurt" Your statement caused Bruce to hold you a little tighter. Before he could attempt to apologize. You spoke up to shut him down.

"Don't you dare apologize."

The two of you continue to slow dance. You closed your eyes as Bruce rests his chin on your head. Closing his eyes. The two of you swaying to the music.

This moment should be a peaceful, loving moment between a father and daughter. But it felt more like an ending to a story that was going nowhere.

"Daddy, I have a question for you."

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, still holding you tight.

Your eyes slowly open. "Have you seen Mommy recently?" Your question caught your father off guard. Visibly frozen. You lift your head up and see his expression turn a little sour.

"Why?" He spoke, slightly offended. Your spending time with him, why not focus on him?

"She's been missing. For a month. Not even her own family knows where she is. . ."

"Well, I don't where she is. I haven't had contact with her for years."

You sighed and pulled away, turning your back to him. A sign to show you were upset with his answer. Bruce frowns a little at you pulling away, his arms stayed up, almost to reach back for you.

"She visited me, every week, for several years. So please, understand I need to find her." You really were hoping to see if Bruce knew anything. But of course, he disappoints you with nothing. Again.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

You got a text from Rex; your grandfather needed you back at the manor. You didn't have enough time to get your things from your old room, so you left Bruce in his office, walking to the front doors, where Alfred waited for you with your coat, along with Dick, Tim and.. . someone else you didn't recognize. But you focused on Alfred, and gently smile to the older man.

"Thank you for the food, Alfred, probably the one thing I missed the most while locked up." You spoke in a joking manner as you turned to let Alfred put your coat on for you. Alfred smiled a little.

"Thank you, miss."

You look up and give the three men a small nod "Dick, Tim . . . And?" You gave the third man a small look of confusion.

"I'm sorry I don't believe I got your name." You adjusted your coat as you stared up at the man and gave him your hand to shake. But the man just stared at you, Dick had to nudge him to snap him out of it.

The man snapped out of it and quickly took your hand and held it as gently as possible. You took notice of the scars on his calloused hand. He spoke in a nervous tone

"Jason, Jason Todd"

You instantly come to a pause.

"I- Uh, Jason Todd?" You know the name. Very well. But the name doesn't fit the face you remember.

But the look on everyone's face says it all, you know this family would not lie about this. You stepped closer to Jason, your hands hovering over his face, Jason could see your eyes glossed over with incoming tears that never fell.

" How. . .I thought you were dead. . ." You spoke in almost a whisper.

Jason lets out a weak chuckle.

"I thought you were dead too."

No words could express how much he missed you. When he came back from the dead, back into the family. No one dared to mention you. Even when he asked about you. They acted as if you were dead. But you were only a few miles away. Locked up. The thought alone angers him, he could have saved you sooner.

"Heh, I seem to get that a lot." You coil back and felt your phone buzz. Your ride was here.

"Do you have to leave Miss? It's late, why not stay for the night." Alfred tries to have you stay for at least a night.

"You just got here" - Dick

"The crime has gotten worse lately"- Tim

"Please. . .?"- Jason

You sighed as you opened the door,

"Sorry boys, no can do. Maybe another time." You gave them a small smile and turned to the car that was here to pick you up, but when you took a few steps down the staircase, you turn around where the entrance door was still open with Alfred and the boys stood.

"Oh, and Jason" Hearing you speak his name, Jason immediately perked up

"It was good seeing you. . . alive and all." You gave him a small toothy grin, before finally getting into the car.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Do you understand, how angry Jason was right now? After all this time thinking you were dead, his sweet little sister gone, you were alive, in a cage full of crazy's. He doesn't care if you took a few lives. You didn't mean too, it was an accident.

He was furious with Bruce for letting you get locked up for so long. Because you're staying with the Falcone's, a bunch of criminals that resort to anything if kept on the top.

"She was alive this whole time, and you knew."

Not only was it Bruce, but Dick knew to. Of all people to keep this away from him, Jason wouldn't think Dick of all people would lie.

"No one said she was dead Jay." Dick tried to calm Jason in some way.

"No one said she was alive!" Jason was quick to snap at Dick who just frowned at Jason's tone.

Your reappearance was indeed a shock to everyone and a lot of them are still trying to process it. As for the ones who never knew of your existence, they were trying to find out more about you. Your name has never been uttered, no pictures of you. Nothing. It was like you never really existed.

Thank Tim for that. Who had to remove you completely, so the Wayne name had less pressure on them. But now Tim is trying to gather what kind of rehabilitation you were in. He felt suspicious of your return. The way your eyes would bare into everyone in a sort of creepy way. As if analyzing them, Tim knew if he brought it up to either Bruce or Dick they would not listen to him. Especially by the way they reacted to your return.

So he was lucky Cassandra and Duke came to him first.

"The way she stared at me, I don't know man it gave me the creeps." Duke wasn't saying this out of meanness. You were genuinely making him uneasy every time you glanced at him, even more nervous when you gave him a smile.

Cassandra felt threatened by you. No one but her noticed how you stared at her the most.

"Something isn't right with her." Was all Cassandra said. Something was indeed wrong with you.

". . . Well, she just got out of Arkham, maybe she's a little. . . ?" Duke trailed off. Not wanting to say the word crazy just yet.

Tim silently listened to Duke and Cassandra's concern about you.

"Haven't you known her longer Tim?" Duke questioned.

Tim sat back in his chair as he let out a small sigh. You might have not noticed much, but he was always watching you. From the moment Bruce took him under his wing. You were small. Quiet, and simple. Not like that was a bad thing. At that time Tim wanted excitement, thrill. And you were none of those things, due to the fact you were practically a toddler.

But now, your different. Of course. It's a no-brainer Arkham would change you, he saw it coming. But your change was, unsettling. He hoped you would stay for him to find out more. But it seems your occupied with the Falcone's at the moment. Whatever it is, he's going to find out.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎?"

[koqabear]

hands-on lesson

“Intern Hueningkai is doing his best to follow in his mentor’s footsteps— Taehyun thinks the younger is a little lacking, but there’s nothing a good training session can’t fix.”

Taehyun x fem!reader x Hueningkai

genre: office au, smut, fluff

word count: 8.6K (me when i say js smth short and LIE)

warnings: barely proof read :3 hard dom!Taehyun, sub(ish)!Hueningkai, sub!reader, no mxm but… there’s definitely something odd happening there, shy!huening, slight jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol, dry humping, spanking, manhandling, nipple play, oral (f. rec.) pet names (honey, baby, sweet girl, angel, pup, good boy [m. rec] etc.) degrading, hair pulling (m. rec), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degrading, praise, biting, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, masturbating, strength kink, hueningkai carries the reader once, size kink, scratching, begging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampies, dacryphilia, bulge kink, big dick tyunning, phew!!! (lmk if i should add anything!)

notes: no thoughts. saw txt bank and tyunnings looks…. *__* #NEEDthat (only like 2k of plot and the rest smut… god… used to pray for times like these)

Hueningkai has always been a bit of an awkward person. It’s his biggest fault, he realizes, blessed with characteristics and looks that give him a demanding presence, aware of the lingering glances and strong impressions he leaves— and while such attention could be seen as a blessing to others, it only has him sweating and shifting uncomfortably, just as he is now as he makes his way into his new office job. 

It was all supposed to be simple; a private, indoor nine-to-five, where he sat at his desk and stared at spreadsheets all day. A job with minimal communication, something straight from his wildest, introverted dreams. Sure, his coworkers were much more sociable than expected— it was a small, tight-knit community, one that included drinks after work and invites to eat lunch together— but what hadn’t been expected whatsoever, was the loop that you would throw him in.

He’d like to think that he’s always been a composed person; knowing when to keep to himself, scurrying away from interactions he knows will leave a sour taste in his mouth later, but with you, all logic seems to be thrown out the window— and he finds himself blabbering like an idiot in front of you, stuttering through the simplest of sentences after you’ve only asked him if he’d like to join you and your fellow colleagues for drinks after work. Despite his gut screaming at him to politely decline, to make up a reason to not go and excuse himself, he finds himself giving in with one hopeful, shining look of yours. 

Never mix business and pleasure; it was a universal rule, right? So why Hueningkai found himself dawdling in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his fingers through his bangs and wiping his glasses nervously, he couldn’t quite fathom. Did his suit look okay? If he’d have known that his day would end with him going to a bar, he would’ve chosen something more breathable. He’s taken much longer than anticipated in the bathroom, and he knows that the others are still waiting for him, but he just can’t bring himself to move— his feet remained glued to the tiles, and his eyes continue to search his reflection for any imperfections, shaky fingers re-tucking his shirt in for the umpteenth time.

“Are you gonna come out? Or do you need me to hold your hand and walk you out,” the soft yelp of surprise that jumps from Hueningkai is nothing short of pitiful, whirling around and clutching onto the sink as he makes eye contact with a stone-faced Taehyun— the two regard each other in silence for a moment, and Taehyun can only watch with amusement as the tips of Hueningkai’s ears grow from a warm, honey color to a vibrant red. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was just,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture to stand at his full height, under the deceptive hopes of exuding confidence, “just touching up. Looks like I got distracted.”

He tries to crack a small smile, the action faltering after Taehyun simply gives him a once-over and nods solemnly. A dreadful silence fills the air once again, suffocating Hueningkai as he shifts his weight and clears his throat nervously. 

“You look fine,” Taehyun says, holding the bathroom door open and nodding out to where the others wait, “let’s go.”

“Ah. Of course,” Hueningkai can only keep his head bowed and his steps quick as he passes the man, only a few months older than him yet oddly intimidating, always carrying a knowing glint in his eyes that keeps him on edge. 

Taehyun follows close behind, swift steps allowing him to catch up immediately as he passes Hueningkai with a soft, coy comment that renders him speechless. 

“I’m sure ___ will appreciate you dolling yourself up for her.”

Truly, Hueningkai ponders to himself, if there’s anyone in this office that should be made fun of for pining hopelessly after you, it should be Taehyun— at least, that’s the conclusion he arrives to as he watches the older man follow you around the whole night, desperate to make you laugh and constantly glancing over at you with those big, sparkling eyes of his, lips curling up to a fond smile Hueningkai isn’t sure Taehyun is aware of himself. 

The interaction at the office is chalked up to nothing but a jealous streak. Does it bother Taehyun, watching as you continue turning your attention back to Hueningkai all night, eager to include him in the team? He may be a bit socially inept, but Hueningkai isn’t oblivious of the watchful eye Taehyun places on him, hyper aware of his stare whenever he tries to talk and joke with you, no matter how successful the interaction— with every sweet smile and endearing laugh you let out, Hueningkai can’t help but glance over at Taehyun, only to find him already staring back. 

“How come this is the first time you’re here with us?” you ask at some point, a joyful flush lighting your face up as you sip idly on the glass of wine you ordered— you lean in curiously, a smile pulling at your lips as you observe the way Hueningkai tenses, eyes following his adam’s apple that bobs nervously. “I’ve been wanting to see you out here with the rest of the team, but you’d always refuse.” 

Your words are a bold jab that sends Huenginkai’s mind into a jumbling malfunction— it’s clear your choice was deliberate, and his mouth dries at the fact that you wanted him here. No matter how hard he fights it, a soft blush rises to his cheeks. 

“W-well, I suppose I was just… nervous.” he says, eyes darting away from you, trying to avoid that amused curl of your lips, the way your eyes sparkle and observe him carefully, clearly enjoying his reactions, “I’m still a bit new here, after all. I just wanted to get to know everyone better before I accepted.”

“Well, what better way to get to know each other than outside of work?” you ask, glancing around the bar, at your scattered coworkers that chat away in their own little bubbles. Hueningkai watches as your eyes light up mischievously, scooting closer so you can pull your final test to his resilience; your hand is hot as it lands just above his knee, placing your weight on it as you lean in to murmur in his ear.

“I’d love to get more familiar with you— and if the bar isn’t your favorite, I know of a better place we can talk.”

Before you can gauge Hueningkai’s reaction or give him a chance to respond, a call of your name takes you two apart— Hueningkai can only stare off into the distance, lost in a trance as you send Taehyun a bright smile, hopping off the barstool as he beckons you over to where he stands. It takes Hueningkai a few minutes before he can finally bring himself to move. 

“You’re quite curious about the new kid, aren’t you?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head curiously as he observes your reaction closely— you merely wave him off with a sheepish laugh, taking another sip of your drink before you answer. 

“It’s the first time I’ve seen him agree to come out with us— I wanted to make him feel included.”

“You’re so sweet,” he coos, leaning in and lowering his voice, eyes flickering off to a point over your shoulder, “I’m sure he feels real included with the way you smother him with your attention.”

“Awh, don’t get jealous,” you grin, biting back a grin at the way he closes in on you, not caring whether your coworkers see or not, “I’ve got plenty of my attention to go around.”

“Do you really?” he asks, his eyes intense as he holds your stare, “is that why you keep running back and forth between the two of us tonight?”

“Well, it’d be much easier for all of us to get along, no?” you say, doe eyes innocently sparkling with your question, “but I’m afraid you might just bite his head off every time you interact with him.”

“Actually, that’s not really true,” Taehyun corrects quietly, leaning in to murmur into your ear after you’ve sent him a confused look.

“I can be quite good at sharing, you know.”

The thrill of his sentence is like a spark of electricity sent down your spine. You allow his words to hang in the air, the proposal something that will either hold true or crumble like sand in your grip, and when you take a step back to look Taehyun in the eye, you’re met with just the thing you needed; a firm, bold stare, burning with an intensity that begs to be provoked.

When you reach out to take his hand, a haste gesture that’s returned by interlocked fingers and a tight grip, a satisfied smile snakes onto your lips; the two of you are swift as you weave through the crowd and back to the lonesome figure at the bar. 

The cocktail that Hueningkai has been nursing since the beginning of the night is watered down and has left a ring of condensation on the table. People watching can only be entertaining for so long before he’s itching to leave, having socialized enough to leave his battery drained for the rest of the week— the only thought on his mind now is to find you and say goodbye, but it seems as though the crowd has swallowed you whole. Just when he thinks it might be best to slip out wordlessly while he still can, a gentle hand lands on his shoulder. 

“Hope you weren’t thinking about running away,” you giggle softly, as though the mere idea of it were ridiculous— Hueningkai is spinning in his seat to face you, the relieved smile on his face tensing as he takes in the guest that you’ve brought along; but when Taehyun’s eyes lock with his, he can only find mischief swimming within, as though laughing at a joke Hueningkai had yet to be let in on. 

“It’s so crowded here, don’t you think?” you ask, refusing to address the bystander to your conversation, “It’s impossible to talk in here— let's step outside, I’m sure it’s better out there.”

Before he can realize the weight of his decision, Hueningkai nods and stands to his feet— anything to get out of this stifling environment, he thinks; maybe this way he can finally bid you goodbye and go rest.

It’s getting late— I think it’s best I head home now. Thank you for inviting me, I had a wonderful time with you. 

Simple, concise. Rehearsed. 

It was all thrown out the window the moment you batted those pretty eyes at him, grabbed his hand so gently— as though afraid you’d lose him if you didn’t handle him carefully. 

No— the moment you opened that perfect mouth of yours, used that gentle voice to lure him back to your place, had that been the moment Hueningkai was supposed to enforce self-restraint and turn you down? When you were already so close, your scent muddling his senses and your lips shining with that sticky gloss that shone obscenely under the street lights?

If it was, then Hueningkai was doomed from the start. 

“F-fuck, please, I can’t—” that skirt is truly a blessing in disguise, Hueningkai thinks to himself; tight in just the right ways, riding up your thighs and allowing your panties to peek through the pantyhose you wear, both equally soaked through as you grind pitifully into Taehyun’s lap.

“Hmm? Can’t take anymore?” Taehyun coos sweetly, bringing a heavy hand down to your ass and smiling at the way you yelp from the impact; his fingertips dig through the fabric and into your flesh, only hiking your skirt up more as he guides you over his covered cock— setting the pace, guiding you to press harder onto him, to feel his length rutting against your aching cunt. 

“Don’t you wanna give our intern a little show, honey?” he asks, looking over your shoulder and at the aforementioned man— the epitome of a mess, really, his face flushed and his eyes wide as he watches you rut hopelessly into Taehyun, a wet spot only growing on his gray slacks where you hump him mindlessly. 

“Wanna show him how it’s done?” he continues, leaving slow kisses along the column of your neck, listening to the way you gasp and plead for more, “teach him how to make a cute thing like you feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” you breathe, grabbing onto his neatly pressed button up with desperation, clutching it in your fists to tug him closer to you; glancing over your shoulder, you can only let out a weak whimper as your low-lidded eyes meet Hueningkai’s, a new wave of desperation washing over you as you press your leaking cunt further against Taehyun’s length. “Please, make me feel good.”

Such good manners, Hueningkai noted to himself, begging the way you do— that sweet, vulnerable tone, the break in your voice— how could they ever turn a request like that down?

You’re so soft— the feeling of your skin against his is an addicting sensation, running his palms up and down your torso like a fool as he hovers over you, lips glued to yours desperately; it’s a sloppy, sad excuse of a kiss, your swollen lips parted as Hueningkai drinks in your moans, feels the way spit pools at the corners of your lips, cooing soft praise as his hands reach up to grab your breasts— fingers pulling and tweaking your nipples teasingly to get you to squirm and squeal, just as he’d been shown— the gasp of Hueningkai’s name against his lips is enough to have him smiling in satisfaction.

“Pretty thing’s been toying with us all night,” Taehyun says sweetly, watching the two of you part and gasp for air— his eyes travel from the string of saliva that connects you two to the fucked out expression you don, dazed eyes barely holding eye contact with him as he smiles— his gaze then trails off to the nervous intern before him, head cocking to the side at the way he awkwardly continues to grip onto your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin as a way to mask his restlessness. 

“And you’ve been teasing this poor boy so badly too, can’t you see how wound up you have him?” his teeth dig into his bottom lip, biting back a smile at the sight of you diligently turning back to the man in question, listening to the quiet whine he lets out, “Why don’t you give him a reward for being so patient with you?”

The two of you can only squirm and obey as Taehyun directs you two— his mere presence is domineering, his voice a firm command that finds you shifting nervously as Hueningkai stares down at your dripping pussy, mouth agape and thin glasses slipping low on his nose as he takes you in, as though it’s the last time he’ll ever get you like this. 

Your sheer stockings have been slipped off, tight pencil skirt bunched at your hips to reveal just how needy you’ve become— Hueningkai could only watch with awe as Taehyun slipped off your lacy panties, a string of your arousal clinging on and leaving a wet spot on the fabric; a tinge of jealousy hit him as Taehyun pocketed the item swiftly, desperate to keep such an intimate part of you with him as well. 

“What, are you just gonna stare like an idiot?” Taehyun asks, startling the youngest out of his daze— his lips press together, adam’s apple bobbing nervously as his eyes flit from your swollen clit, your slit that glistens and leaks slick that dribbles down your hole and onto your sheets— and his eyes flicker back to Taehyun before he can stop and think, watching as the older merely scoffs in disbelief. 

“Oh baby, is this what you were chasing around the whole night?” Taehyun says to you, hovering his lips over yours, pouting mockingly at the way you whine and plead incoherently, “just a dumb pup that doesn’t know the first thing about making a girl feel good?” 

Hueningkai’s face feels like it’s on fire, and it definitely reflects on his skin that glows a brilliant red, eyes widening at the things Taehyun spews about him to you— a determination to prove him wrong fires up within, and before he can second guess himself, he wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls you closer. 

“Mhh, look at that,” Taehyun says, cupping your cheek sweetly, watching as your eyebrows furrow and your mouth falls open to let out a soft moan, “that’s a start.”

Hueningkai’s movements are soft and shaky, so gentle you’d almost miss it if you weren’t so needy— his tongue is warm as it presses against your clit, hesitant before it flicks up and feels the way you twitch; it slowly becomes a steady motion, soft kitten licks that have your cunt clenching around nothing, hips grinding down in search of more. 

“Not enough, huh?” Taehyun practically reads your mind, not having to wait for a response as he reaches down and tangles his fingers roughly into Hueningkai’s hair— he watches as the man jolts, peeking up through his lashes to look at the other in panic; when Taehyun’s grip tightens and pulls on the long locks, his eyes flutter shut and a small groan rumbles in his chest. 

“C’mon,” Taehyun chides, using his grip to guide Hueningkai’s mouth down, watching as his tongue lolls against your hole before pushing him forward, smushing his face firmly into your pussy, “give our angel some more.” 

Hueningkai doesn’t need to be told twice— feeling your entrance clench against his tongue is enough, tasting your cunt that leaks onto him and leaves him intoxicated; he allows his tongue to slip inside, opening your walls and feeling the way you flutter around him, sucking him in and whining for more— Taehyun can only watch with a coy smile, hand continuing to guide Hueningkai’s actions as his nose is pressed against your aching clit, the hitched moan you let out enough to encourage the man between your legs.

“Shit— hah…” you’re a panting, dizzy mess, hands gripping onto the sheets as Hueningkai slowly becomes more eager; nuzzling into your cunt to dig his tongue in further, pretty nose pressed into your clit and hot muscle curling into your walls, feeling the way your thighs shake and tense with his movements— not allowed to pull away either, Taehyun’s firm grip on his hair keeping him pressed against you and moaning into your cunt. 

“Kai…” you slur out, hips jumping at the way he hums against your pussy, attempting to look up though his fogged lenses and failing— the sound of your broken voice enough to have him imagining the flustered expression on your face, cock twitching at the mere thought. 

“Need more…” you plead softly, eyes fluttering shut as his fingertips dig into the plush of your thighs, pushing up and throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, “please, wanna feel your fingers…”

You hear Taehyun let out a chuckle at your request— but you pay it no mind, whining desperately and grinding your hips down in hopes that Hueningkai will listen— and though the loss of his mouth on you has you ready to whine and complain, the feeling of his long fingers pushing in shortly after has all thoughts dying in an instant. 

“Oh my god…” it isn’t just you that’s gasping and moaning in surprise— Hueningkai’s mouth continues to spill curses as he feels your warm walls envelope him, lithe fingers slipping further inside and curling curiously against the spongy spot against his fingertips— feeling you jolt with a sharp cry, he knows he’s discovered something good. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Taehyun mumbles, drinking in your expressions before he’s glancing back down at Hueningkai, “but I know you can be louder for us, baby.”

Hueningkai’s fingers that have begun a steady pace are joined by his plump lips that circle your clit and begin to suck on it harshly— if it hadn’t been for Taehyun, Hueningkai would’ve been content watching your hole soak his digits, a thick ring of cum pooling at his knuckles as he continues to thrust against spots you never thought existed; overwhelmed by the stimulation, you can’t control the way your hips buck and twitch, hands searching for something to ground you— they find themselves intertwined with Taehyun’s soon after, feeling him give your hand a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to the back of it; you think you hear him mumbling soft praise to you, but it’s all lost as Hueningkai’s tongue continues to lap and suck at your clit.

“Tyun, Kai, I’m—” the words die on your tongue, nails digging into Taehyun’s hand as you squeeze your thighs around Hueningkai’s head, “‘m so close!” 

“Just a little more baby,” Taehyun purrs, listening to the way Hueningkai’s pace quickens, fingers pumping into your greedy cunt that squeezes him tighter, “c’mon, you can take it.”

Your eyes are squeezed shut from the pleasure, your orgasm building up to an intensity that leaves you unaware of the way Taehyun observes you carefully, drinking in every furrow of your brows, your trembling lips, the broken sob that leaves you once it all crashes down— your cunt pulses and sucks Hueningkai’s fingers in as you finally cum, a weak cry the only thing you can muster as he continues to help you ride it out, tongue lapping up the release that leaks around his fingers.

“I’ve got you, there you go sweet girl,” Taehyun coos, smiling sweetly at the way you pull him in to bury your face into his chest, clinging onto him for support— his words bringing a broken whimper out of you lips, gasping against the sturdy muscles of his chest as you calm down. 

“Kai, please…” you sob, your cunt well abused by the man’s tongue that continues to lap at you leisurely, already having cleaned his fingers and gone back for more— he’s drunk off you, humming absentmindedly against your cunt before he’s licking a long stripe along your entrance, relishing in the long whine you give him as he flicks his tongue on your clit, “please, no more— ‘m sensitive…”

He’s reluctant, only giving in after Taehyun forcibly grabs his hair and tugs him off— through bleary eyes, you take in his fogged, crooked glasses and low-lidded gaze that continues to stare at your glistening pussy in wonder, slathered in a mixture of his spit and your release— he places a gentle kiss on your cunt, listening to the gasp you let out with a crooked, shy smile. 

“Sorry…” he sighs out, massaging the bruised spots of your thighs, licking his lips absentmindedly before he looks up at you, eyes wide and sparkling with doubt. “D-did… did I do okay…?”

You blink in disbelief; when you’ve gazed into his eyes and confirmed that he’s serious, you throw your head back with soft laughter, shaking your head in disbelief before looking back down at the man between your legs— you take in his flustered expression, unable to hold back the fond smile that creeps on your lips. 

“God, you really…” your leg hooks into his back, heel digging into the firm expanse as you reach down to cup his face, his eyes fluttering shut upon contact; your thumb caresses his cheekbones, reaching to adjust his frames as you sigh. “Drive me crazy. You’re perfect.”

“C’mon angel,” Taehyun coos, cupping your cheek and turning you to look at him— he’s pouting, thumb tracing your bottom lip as he speaks, pulling it down with dark eyes, “don’t forget about me, I’m here too.”

The whimper that leaves your throat is downright pathetic— your cunt clenches, tongue darting out to lick his finger, mouth obediently opening as he pushes it in; your eyes are glazed with desire as you suck on it gently, your free hand reaching up to Taehyun’s shoulder, bringing him down towards you. 

“Tyun, I need you,” you sigh out, pulling him into a soft kiss, lingering against his lips as you speak, “want you to fuck me so bad.”

Your desperate pleas leave the two stunned— Hueningkai can feel his cock twitching desperately against the sheets, watching with wide eyes as you squirm shyly, flustering at the filth that Taehyun whispers in your ear.

“Such a greedy thing,” Taehyun purrs, grinning at the way you melt immediately at his words, “was Hueningkai’s mouth not enough for you? Not satisfied?”

“N-no, that’s not true,” you interject quickly, glancing down at the man between your legs that continues to stare up at you with wide, shining eyes— then you look back at Taehyun, heating up under his condescending gaze, “just want more— wanna feel your cock, please…” 

“Yeah? Want me to show you what you’ve been missing?” he murmurs, leaning down to plant kisses against your jaw, chuckling softly at your eager nods, “want me to fuck you good in front of our intern? Show him how it’s done?” 

“Yes— please, yes—” you breathe out, mewling at the soft sucks and bites he gives you, “fuck me, I need it, want it s’bad— ah!” 

Taehyun’s teeth are sharp as they sink into the juncture of your neck, a loud keen escaping you as your back arches from the stinging sensation— his tongue is quick to soothe against it, his hand that was previously tightened against the youngest’s hair falling possessively against your waist, his glare lethal as his eyes lock with Hueningkai’s.

“You heard her,” he grumbles, coy smile tugging at his lips as he nods over to the chair that’s placed by the window, “now be a good boy and go watch over there.”

Taehyun’s jealous streak is alive and well; Hueningkai is happily resigned to sit back and watch as Taehyun kneels between your legs, heavy cock leaking against your pussy as he ruts his cockhead against your clit, the two of you too lost in each other’s lips to do anything about it— he watches with furrowed brows as you whine and mewl at the stimulation, hips jumping with need every time his tip teases your entrance; catching on it, just enough to slip in for a moment before it slips out again. 

The noise that leaves your mouth when Taehyun finally enters you has Hueningkai closing his eyes and trying his best to not cum on the spot— his hand that had previously been wrapped around his weeping cock is still, squeezing his base as he watches Taehyun stretch you out slowly— your teary eyes jump from Taehyun’s face to Hueningkai’s, mouth falling open to let out another pretty moan as Taehyun bottoms out inside you, hips glued to yours. 

“Shit… you’re so tight,” Taehyun groans, throwing his head back at your wet walls that continue to flutter around him, trying to suck him in deeper; looking back down at you, he smiles, taking in your wandering eyes as he glances over at your point of interest. 

“You enjoying this?” he teases, thrusting his hips shallowly to pull another whine out of you, feeling the way you clench even tighter around him, “like having him watch you like this?”

“Yes, nngh, fuck—!” you gasp, words stuck in your throat as Taehyun slowly pulls out of you, until his leaking tip is the only thing your cunt can ache around— you jump as he bottoms out in you with one harsh, swift thrust; when your glistening eyes meet Taehyun’s, you’re met with that familiar, dangerous glint in his shining pupils. 

“Then be a good girl and show him how good you feel.” 

Your mind is nothing but a melted puddle in your head; your eyes have rolled to the back of your skull, mouth fallen open as you lay there and let Taehyun use you just how he wants— thick cock battering into your walls harshly, calloused hands holding onto your waist to keep you close, hips angled up so he can fuck into you better— it’s so good, you’ve never been fucked like this before, nothing but a pretty doll for Taehyun to use in order to reach his peak, brows knitted and eyes zoned in on every expression you make, cock twitching at every moan and cry of his name. 

God, all this time working together in the office, yet you never took note of Taehyun’s physique; his suit always tailored to perfection, just enough to fit but not enough to show what was hiding underneath— you’re stuck in a trance as you watch the way his stomach clenches with every thrust, abs glistening from the sweat that runs down his body, your legs wrapping around his small waist to pull you closer; his body feels so firm under your hands, grabbing onto his biceps and crying at the way he fucks you into the mattress, his quiet, deep voice murmuring filth into your ears as he angles his cock just right, finding your sweet spot with ease— listening to the way you squeal and press your hands against his chest, gasping that it’s too much; when you feel him smile against your lips, you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Too much?” he mocks, slowing his pace, listening to the way you whine— only to shudder and tuck your face into his neck, pussy clenching at the way he’s bottomed out inside you, rolling his hips so slowly and deeply— pressing you further into the bed, chest pressing against yours and trapping you under him as he huffs, “we can’t stop now, baby— Hueningie’s enjoying the show too much.”

Like clockwork, you glance over Taehyun’s shoulder and at the man who remains seated, watching— and Taehyun can feel the way you gush around him, pussy so slick and stuffed that you have no other choice but to let it leak out and soil your sheets— because really, the sight is to die for. 

His tie has been loosened, his blazer shrugged off— his shirt is unbuttoned halfway, heaving chest peeking out and glistening with sweat— his hair is ruffled, glasses hanging low on his nose, and when your eyes meet his, you feel trapped; he’s entirely fucked out, his neediness conveyed with a single glance— when your eyes begin to wander back down, you can’t help the whine that leaves your swollen lips. 

“Hyuka,” you cry, fingers digging into Taehyun’s shoulders as he continues to fuck you deep, holding onto your thigh to keep you close; you can’t keep your eyes off the way Hueningkai continues to fuck into his fist, matching the rhythm as slick sounds emit from the cum that leaks out of his needy tip, droplets falling onto his hands that continue to grip tightly around his length— you watch as he swipes a thumb over the slit of his cockhead, a whimper falling from your lips at the way his hips buck and his cock twitches; you think your mouth started watering.

“Greedy girl,” Taehyun chides, propping himself up on his elbows, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to turn back to look at him— your eyes glisten as they meet his harsh gaze, stomach flipping at the intensity as he tuts disappointedly at you. 

“Drooling over him while I’m here,” he punctuates his words with a calculated thrust to your sweet spot, listening to the choked moan you let out with a satisfied smile, “fucking you this good.”

“‘m sorry,” you mumble breathlessly, fingers digging into his back, feeling another orgasm beginning to build up, “‘m sorry Tyunnie, please don’t stop— please, I’m so close…”

Listening to your mindless rambles, he lets out a breathy chuckle— only to grab your thighs, bringing them up and throwing them over his shoulders, watching the way you melt at the new angle— and he lets out a soft groan, feeling his own high approaching with the way you continue to clench around him so tightly. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he breathes out, hands that were holding onto your thighs now bringing them down toward your chest, practically folding you as your eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he presses his weight against you, thick cock bottoming out and reaching in deep, hitting the spots that make you gasp and yelp— he’s leaning down to press his weight against you, pushing you into the mattress as he rolls his hips and angles himself to hit your sweet spot; his hand leaves your thigh, reaching down to circle your clit, and you shudder with a broken cry, “got you falling apart on my cock— fuck, and you’re still looking over at him.” 

“I’m close,” you gasp, hands reaching for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving marks, “oh my god, I’m so close, please, just like that—”

“Gonna cum?” he whispers, the mischief in his tone lost on you as you nod, “tell me how sorry you are. Maybe then I’ll let you cum.”

You’re snapped out of your daze the moment you feel everything stop— his cock pressed deep into you, his fingers that lay still on your clit, the weight of his body heavy as you look into his eyes, only to be met with his heated, expectant stare.

“‘m sorry…” you mutter meekly, cunt clenching and gushing around his thick length desperately, only to be met with his low grumble that asks you for what?  “‘m sorry for ignoring you— sorry for making you wait—” 

“Should be sorry,” Taehyun interrupts with a breathy laugh, throwing your head back at the way he begins to thrust into you again, deep and agonizingly slow, “took forever to finally get you like this— and now I have to fight for your attention?”

Hueningkai watches you shake your head fervently, in awe as you roll your hips against Taehyun’s, desperate for more— his cock pulses in his hand, slick with cum that continues to leak, eyes wide behind his glasses in fear of missing anything— he watches you react instantly to Taehyun’s motions, his hand circling your clit roughly as he begins to pound into you again, your body bouncing from the weight of each thrust, punching out moans from you.

“You really wanna cum that bad?” Taehyun mocks, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him— he looks down at where his cock disappears inside you, shining from your arousal, the wet squelching that comes with every thrust enough to have you heating up from embarrassment; but Taehyun thinks otherwise, etching the sight into his mind as his cock twitches and aches for more— your breathy voice that slurs out pleas is the only thing that breaks him from his trance. 

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he growls, feeling his climax creeping up on him, mean thrusts turning sloppy, “c’mon baby, lemme hear you.”

“It’s you— fuck, ngh— fucking me so good, ah!” your stomach tightens, feeling Taehyun’s large hands splay over it, pressing down and making you feel his length that continues to fuck into you— his thumb is persistent on your clit, your body growing restless from the stimulation, “god, love your cock— you’re so good, wanna cum, need you to cum—!”

Your pleas have Taehyun closing his eyes with a hissed out curse, concentrating on making you cum before him— Hueningkai can only watch from his spot, gulping thickly as he takes everything in; your nails that dig into Taehyun’s shoulders, trembling hands slipping and running down his muscled back, leaving bright red marks in their wake— Taehyun’s cock that continues to ram into you, picking up his pace and pressing you further into the bed as you cry and whine that you’re close, face screwed up in pleasure— Hueningkai has to stop his own motions all together, biting down on his lip at the ebbing pain of his denied orgasm; his eyes flicker between your face and your pussy, both sights equally entrancing as he listens to your peak approach. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—!” you whine, words lost on your tongue as you bury your face into Taehyun’s chest— your words are muffled, but they still reach Taehyun’s ears, “please cum inside me, want you to fill me up, please please please—”

“Fuck,” Taehyun hisses sharply, feeling you crash down with a loud moan, cunt creaming around him, “fuck, such a good girl— gonna fill you up, make you mine, pump you full of my cum—”

Taehyun’s hips have a mind of his own as he rides out his high, hand on your stomach continuing to press down even after you’ve begun to cry from the sensitivity, thick cum pumping inside you until it can no longer stay inside— you can only lay there and take everything Taehyun gives you as he calms down, hips coming to a stop as they press flush against yours; right when he thinks his arms might give out on him, he sits back, looking at your spent, sweating body with a triumphant smile. 

“So pretty,” he coos, caressing your face lovingly, watching you nuzzle into his palm with a tired sigh, “tired?”

“Mh-hmm,” you say softly, looking as though you might doze off any second now— you flinch at the sensation of Taehyun pulling out, the said man watching with hungry eyes as his cum slowly begins to pool out of your fluttering hole; he looks back up at you, tutting softly as he gives your cheek a playful pat. 

“That’s too bad,” he hums, your eyes fluttering open just enough to see him get off the bed, nodding over to where Hueningkai remains, “cause you’re not done yet.”

You whine, legs closing and thighs rubbing together nervously, but Taehyun is having none of it as he scoffs mockingly. 

“What happened to our greedy girl?” he asks, your stomach flipping at his words, “our little intern here hasn’t had his turn with you yet— I’m sure he can’t wait to show you what he learned.”

“Right, Kai?”

The exhaustion from your previous orgasm seems to have gotten to you— because with a mere blink of your eyes, you find Hueningkai hovering above you, gazing through bleary eyes as he begins to unbutton his shirt, staring at you with a desperation more intense than before; his hands are deft as they unbutton his pants, pulling them off with a swift motion and feeling your eyes immediately fall onto his weeping, blushing cock—  you’re quiet, allowing him to loom over you and pry your thighs apart, situating himself between them until his cock is resting over your mound, leaking and twitching against your stomach; you think you see him gulp, eyes running over your spent body as he clears his throat softly. 

“Do you think you can take more?” he quietly asks, hesitant to do anything yet unable to stop the way his cocks ruts softly against the softness of your stomach, “we can stop if you want us to.”

Immediately, you shake your head no— your hand reaches down to where his cock rests, feeling his breath hitch as your fingers trace around his cockhead, pressing into his slit— his eyes are wide as they meet yours, melting at the pout you give him. 

“No, wanna feel you,” you say, taking a hold of his length, slapping it against your stomach to watch the way it sticks, “want you to fill me up with your cum.”

His lips press together in shock, a broken whimper creeping out his throat— he’s trying his hardest not to cum, your mere touch enough to have him close. Pulling away— somewhat reluctantly— from your hold, he grabs his cock and lines it up with your sopping entrance; the sight of it leaking with Teahyun’s cum has his cock twitching in his hand, pressing it carefully against your fluttering hole. 

“Shit, you’re so warm…” he groans, watching his thick tip push slowly into you, the mixture of release coating his length as he eases himself inside— soft walls pulse around him, cum seeping out your entrance and coating his pelvis that remains pressed flush to yours; he watches your eyes widen and turn blank, a sharp gasp falling from you the moment he bottoms out. 

“Oh— you’re so…” words fall short, feeling his cock twitch inside you, his tip nudging against the deepest spots you never knew were there— you think you might feel him against your cervix, the stretch and length of him leaving your mind empty— “fuck… Kai… you’re so big…” 

The words have him shivering— his chest is flushing from all the attention, only able to stare down at you in awe as he feels your cunt adjust to his size; sensing his unsurety, you roll your hips against his and send him your signature, pleading look. 

“Kai, please,” you moan, reaching up to grab his hands and placing them on your hips, “just use me— just wanna make you feel good.”

The phrase just use me has Hueningkai’s brain short-circuiting; with one last look at you— your sweaty, spent body, thighs shining with slick and eyes fluttering with the last bit of coherency you have— he groans, fingers digging into your waist and pulling you right into him; the yelp you let out at feeling him nudge into you cervix falls on deaf ears, and Hueningkai allows himself to get lost in your dripping cunt. 

His hips snap into you, thick cock slamming into your sensitive, used walls— you can merely cry and wail as you allow him to chase his pleasure, teary eyes taking in his dark eyes that remain glued to your cunt, watching himself disappear inside you; thick, creamy ring forming around his length, the wet sounds that come from your cunt and the weak clenches you give him with every  thrust— it’s intoxicating, so much that he hasn’t realized how loud his moans and grunts have become. 

“Y-you’re… so beautiful…” he whines, grabbing your hips and raising them into the air, just so he can have easier access to you— snapping his hips harsher into you, deep and cruel as he finds your sweet spot with an accidental, sloppy spot; listening to you keen and scramble to grab the sheets, his eyes narrow in concentration to find it again— and when he finally does, he doesn’t let up. 

“Kai, kai kai—” you whine out, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure; your brain is fogged and your cunt can only let itself be abused, squelching and leaking even more cum that dribbles down your ass and onto the sheets; it's a filthy, pathetic mess, and you feel Taehyun’s amused gaze on the two of you all the while, “Kai, please— agh, it’s too much!”

But even if the overstimulation has your body on fire, the last thing you want is for him to stop— Hueningkai seems to be on the same page as you, merely groaning at the tears that slip from your eyes, leaning down to hover over you and press you into the mattress, just as Taehyun had done before— carefully, he reaches out to cup your face, thumb wiping the tears from your eyes away. He leans down to give you a brief, sloppy kiss, pulling away to pant against your mouth. 

“‘m sorry, sorry baby,” he weakly says, out of breath as he continues to rut his cock into you wildly, “please, just a bit more— just give me a little more, ‘m so close, c’mon.”

With every wail and mewl you give him, a soft apology is whispered against your skin— plump lips kissing your tears away, burrowing his head into your neck as he murmurs that he can’t stop, sorry— his hands gripping onto your hips to ensure that you don’t squirm away from him, even if he continues to abuse your most sensitive spots. 

The line between pleasure and pain has blurred long ago, leaving you a sobbing, babbling mess as you continue to let Hueningkai use you, the man pressing his body against yours and successfully trapping you beneath him; your nipples rub against his firm chest, hands clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving marks with every harsh thrust that sends you reeling. He’s big in every sense of the word— overpowering you, covering your sight with his body and keeping you in whatever position he’d like with his mere hands— his grip is steady on your waist, making sure to keep you as close to his hips as possible, whether it be by angling your body differently or using his strength as leverage to fuck you against him— a little toy for him to use, your body nothing but a means to get him to cum. 

“Ah, your pussy’s so good,” he groans, looking down between your legs, curiosity getting the best of him as he reaches down to feel against your stomach, brows furrowing at the bulge he feels— then he presses down, the pressure making your breath hitch. “you’re sucking me in so good— you’re so tight, ‘m sorry, I just can’t get enough of you—”

“Kai” is all you can cry out, thighs beginning to twitch and your hips jumping with shocks of overstimulation, “Kai, hurts, can’t take it…” 

“Yes you can,” Taehyun speaks up, seeing through your lies with an amused smile, “c’mon angel, just a little more— don’t you wanna feel good? Hmm? Wanna feel him fill you up?” 

You whimper, unable to respond— his hand that was previously feeling the way his cock slipped in and out of you through your stomach wandered down, finding your clit and beginning to massage it gently; feeling you clamp down on him, Hueningkai moans, his high beginning to approach dangerously. 

“Just be a good girl and let him use you a little longer,” Taehyun says, watching fondly as your face twists with concentration, trying your best to keep up with the man that continues to abuse your cunt, “that’s it— just a little more…”

“‘m so close,” Hueningkai breathes out, thrusts becoming sloppy and his fingers on your clit becoming frantic, “can you give me one more? Wanna feel you cum on my cock, please baby.”

“Mhh, ‘s too much—” you gasp, a sudden pleasure beginning to seize your body, back arching and hips rolling in search of it— Hueningkai sees it immediately, putting in his last efforts to ram into your sweet spot, sweat running down his neck as he concentrates to not cum before you, “wait— wait, think ‘m gonna—!” 

Your peak crashes onto you unexpectedly, a rush of strength making you pull Hueningkai down as you bury your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, cunt throbbing and tightening around his cock; Hueningkai is following immediately after, a long, broken whine leaving his lips as he lets his hips lose rhythm, rutting and pressing as deep as they can; hot, thick ropes of cum fill your already stuffed pussy, but the man above you is stubborn as he continues to fuck it back into you, fingers collecting anything that slips out and pushing it back in alongside his cock— the sensation has you gasping and clawing at his back. 

“Alright you two, that’s enough,” Taehyun’s firm voice is startling as Hueningkai jumps away from you, cock still buried inside as he finally takes in your broken state with wide, bewildered eyes— when he looks over at Taehyun, the elder merely chuckles. 

“She’s fine,” he says, cupping your cheek and leaning down to give you a chaste kiss, smiling at the way you blindly chase his lips, “she’ll be sore tomorrow, but she’ll be okay.”

Gesturing for Hueningkai to pick you up, he nods over to your bathroom down the hall. 

“C’mon, let's go clean up,” two of you— or rather, Hueningkai, with you limp in his hold— follow diligently, and a part of you wonders if the moment will come where the three of you address this strange dynamic. 

But with the way these two act so unphased, you think you might know what the answer might be. 

 ◦◦◦ 

“You barely touched your lunch today,” Taehyun frowns, slipping your jacket on for you as you prepare to leave the empty office, the said lunchbox in your hand and your bag in the other, “was Hueningkai’s cooking that bad?” 

“Hey, of course it wasn’t,” you scold, smacking his chest, ignoring the way his eyes darken at the action— you glance behind you and at the said man that’s just finished shutting down his computer, slipping his blazer back on and looking up at where the two of you wait— the smile he sends you is innocent, making your stomach twinge with guilt at Taehyun’s comment, “I was just so worried about the presentation this Friday, I guess I just lost my appetite.”

“My poor baby,” Taehyun pouts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a gentle kiss, “you’ve been working so hard this past month, I’m sure it’s gonna turn out great.”

“What happened?” Hueningkai is last to arrive at the scene, taking in the furrow of your brows with a worried frown. “Everything okay?”

“No, you’re starving our baby here because of your terrible cooking,” Taehyun chides, breaking into a grin as you gasp and hit his chest once more, “she barely touched the lunch you gave her.”

“That’s not true!” you gape, escaping Taehyun’s hold to run over to him, “oh my god, don’t listen to him!” 

“Was it really that bad?” he pouts down at you, puppy eyes glistening as he listens to you stutter through your explanation, placing gentle hands on your hips, “I woke up extra early this morning to make it for you.”

“Kai, of course not,” you stress, cupping his face and peppering kisses all over it— the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, his cupid’s bow— completely unaware of the way the two fight back mischievous smiles, “I love your cooking— I love you, love that you’re so sweet and make me lunch.”

“Then, how come you didn’t finish it?” Taehyun asks, sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, placing his head on your shoulder, “so ungrateful… maybe we need to teach you a lesson, hmm?”

He places a soft kiss on your jaw, feeling you tense the moment you catch on to their scheme— you glance up at Hueningkai for help, only to find him staring back at you with unforgiving, sulky puppy eyes. 

“I think we should,” Hueningkai agrees, bottom lip jutting out cutely as Taehyun continues to kiss and nip at your neck, “you’re so mean, honey.”

Your mouth falls open in shock, unable to do anything but let the two men grab your hands and lead you out— their discussion on who’s place to go to doesn't process in your mind, and all you can think is that you fell into their trap, good. 

“Oh, you guys are so…” you mumble, still speechless as they turn to look at you— you turn from Taehyun’s dark, teasing gaze to Hueningkai’s playful one, shaking your head in disbelief, “terrible.”

You can’t help but think back to a few months ago— Huenignkai’s shy, flustered personality, Taehyun’s hopelessness and his silent jealousy— and you can’t help but wonder what monsters you’ve turned your boys into.

Hueningkai reaches to give your hip a loving squeeze— Taehyun chuckles, bringing your hand up so he can give it a kiss. “Save it for the bedroom, love.”

Oh, you’re in for a long night.