#there’s things to play with here but i don’t have time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steveslevis · 3 days ago

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let’s make it cinematic!

azriel x OF!reader (modern au) - part 1 of ?

summary: azriel and his girl are looking for new ways to make ends meet when their friends suggest something that neither of them would’ve ever thought to try…something neither of them would’ve ever thought they’d enjoy so much.

warnings: drinking, smoking (weed-adjacent aka mirthroot), sex tapes/filming sexual acts, dom!azriel x sub!reader, smut!!! so much smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, rough sex, degradation AND praise kinks, (light) choking, dirty talk, shadow play, size kink (simply bc az is HUGE), creampie (wrap it up yall!!!), az is a protective dom & king of aftercare, mentions of exhibitionism and a foursome

word count: 7.5k

a/n: it's FINALLY here!!!! shoutout to @bookishbishhh for the amazing idea, sorry this took forever...i hope everyone enjoys part 1 of who knows how many <333

Thick smoke hangs in the air around the apartment, the sound of laughter likely carrying through the entire complex as Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sit on the couch, talking about nothing in particular.

It’s a weekly ritual at this point for them to get together on a Friday night, just three so-called brothers laughing about senseless stories and reminiscing on their years spent together while passing mirthroot and sharing a bottle of whiskey. This week was no different from any other, aside from the distance in Azriel’s hazel eyes as the other two laugh about something Cassian did at a party the weekend before.

Rhys nudges the quiet male, offering him the lit mirthroot between his fingers to grab his attention. Azriel grunts in response, taking it before placing it between his lips and inhaling sharply.

“What’s on your mind, brother?” Rhys questions.

Azriel is hesitant to share, squeezing his eyes shut as he holds the smoke in for a moment. He knows Rhys specifically won’t understand his situation, considering he’s never had to deal with financial hardship in his life. But he knows there’s never been judgment from either of them when discussing money, so he pushes his hesitancy down despite the hollow feeling in his chest.

“Things have just been tough lately,” he sighs, finally exhaling the smoke he was holding in before passing the mirthroot to Cassian. “We have no fucking money and I hate that Y/N has to work pretty much any time she’s not studying or in class. She’s stuck at that damn restaurant every night until fucking midnight and I hate seeing her so exhausted every night but it’s not like she can just quit right now.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room as both Cassian and Rhys nod in understanding, before Cassian exhales his smoke and suggests something Azriel would’ve never expected.

“Have you thought about OnlyFaes?”

“Shut the fuck up Cass–”

“I’m not fucking around!” Cassian interjects, “I mean, don’t get all shitty and possessive on me, but your girlfriend is hot as fuck, and horny as fuck might I add. So why not get paid to fuck her? Me and Nes have had the best time doing it.”

It was no secret that Nesta had her own OnlyFaes and that Cassian was featured on it more times than not, he loves showing her off on their page and showing everyone how hot his girl that nobody else will ever have a chance to touch is.

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel nearly snarls, shaking his head sharply, “I am not gonna even ask her to do that. Y/N would never.”

Rhys chuckles while pouring himself some more whiskey, making Azriel snap his gaze in that direction, “What?” he insists, eyes narrowed on Rhys, “What’s so funny about that?”

“I think you don’t know your girlfriend if you think she wouldn’t be willing to try that,” Rhys says smoothly with a smirk, “Considering all the times you’ve had an audience–accidentally or not–I think she might be more than okay with doing it on camera, as long as you’re the one doing it.”

Azriel’s jaw twitches at his words, mind racing with thoughts of how good you look when he fucks you, how he can’t get enough of the noises you make when you cum, how well it would probably do in a video. There’s conflicting voices in his mind, one telling him to never share you and one telling him that the two of you could be so successful and never have to worry about how you were gonna pay rent again.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s worth a shot, Az?” Cassian questions. “I think she’d be into it.”

As Azriel opens his mouth to reply, the sound of a key sliding into the front door lock stops him in his tracks. His shadows skitter towards the door and swirl around the handle, excited to greet their favorite person.

The door opens a moment later, and you’re on the other side looking exhausted from a long day of class and work. You give your boyfriend a weak smile, mumbling a quick hello to the other two males in the room while closing the door and throwing your bag down. You look up from where you throw your bag down and halfway frown, cursing yourself silently for forgetting that it’s Friday and you wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed with Az.

“Long night?” Cassian is the first to break the silence, furrowing his brow as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You nod and he grimaces sympathetically, holding up the bottle in his hand as he does. “Want a shot?”

Azriel elbows Cassian roughly, shooting a glare in his direction before standing up to walk over to you. His eyes fall on you and you nearly melt, leaning into his grasp as he reaches for your cheek. Azriel’s large wings raise behind him, as if he’s trying to shield you from the two males on the couch behind him as he and his shadows greet you.

“Ignore him, I think he’s had too much mirthroot tonight and is going crazy.” he mumbles, stroking his thumb across your cheek, “did you have a good shift?”

You sigh before shaking your head, rolling your eyes at the thought of the draining night you just had. Working in Prythian’s finest dining room came with its perks, mainly being the somewhat generous tips, but that didn’t mean that people weren’t assholes to you throughout every single shift, and tonight was no different.

You had gotten stuck waitressing for a large party of businessmen, who all decided it would be a great idea to flirt with you all night and make crude comments under their breath in your direction any time you passed their seats. So no, you hadn’t had a good shift at all.

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” you retort tiredly, frowning up at Azriel while reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m just gonna go to bed, I think. Don’t wanna bring down the fun.”

A frown crosses Azriel’s face for a moment but he nods, noting the darkness underneath your eyes as you stare up at him, “we’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

The other males bid you goodnight from the couch as Azriel kisses your cheek gently. You give him a tired smile before trudging towards the bedroom.

You shrug out of your black slacks and polo, changing into pajamas before curling up under the covers. It doesn’t take you more than five minutes to fall asleep, exhaustion raking over your whole body as soon as your head meets the pillow.

________________________________________

The bed is empty and cold when you wake, making you frown at the absence of your favorite person. Before you can sulk too much, your phone buzzes from the bedside table. You turn over in the bed to grab for it, a small smile crossing your face as you read Azriel’s name on the screen. You look at the clock in the corner of the screen, realizing you slept in until 12:30 in the afternoon after utter exhaustion took you in the night before. There are three texts from the male, all over the last six hours.

Azzy <3 - 6:15 am: Forgot to tell you that I was taking an extra shift at the shop this morning, I’ll be home around 1. Love you.

Azzy <3 - 8:52 am: Can’t wait to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed…wish I could’ve been there to wake you up the proper way this morning ;)

Azzy <3 - 12:28 pm: Don’t even know if you’re awake yet, but I’ll be home in less than five minutes. Finished up the car I was working on early, see you soon, love.

You smile to yourself as you read his semi-formal texts. He’s never been keen on texting since he’d rather just call you, but he’s gotten more chatty over text since the two of you barely get to see each other when you’re busy with work and school all the time. You start to type a message in reply, but he’s true to his word and you hear the front door unlocking only four minutes after he sent his last text.

You wait patiently in the bed, sitting up as you watch the bedroom door intently. It only takes a few seconds for him to open the door quietly, eyes widening in half-shock when he sees that you’re actually awake. You smile over at him sleepily, noting how his oil-stained coveralls are draped over his arm and his hands are surprisingly clean, as if he cleaned himself up before coming home.

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty.” he teases, striding over to your side of the bed to give you a quick kiss.

“Hi,” you mumble tiredly, reaching up to cup his cheek gently. “Did you have a good morning?”

He hums in agreement, quickly tossing his work clothes into their designated laundry basket before slipping under the covers next to you. You slide as close to him as possible, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face in his neck. Azriel’s arms snake around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you lay in comfortable silence, happy to sit in each other’s arms and enjoy the moment for a while.

When you do finally pull away to look up at him, Azriel’s brow is furrowed and he’s staring at the opposite wall, deep in thought. You trail your hand along his chest to break him from his trance, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to get his attention.

“What’s on your mind?” you question when he finally looks down at you.

“Oh, just something Cass said last night,” he sighs, giving you a wry smile. You raise your brow at him, waiting for him to continue. “We were talking about how it’s been hard for us, with you being in school and working and with me having to pick up extra shifts at the shop. And–And he suggested a way for us to make more money. I was just thinking about it.”

“Well, what was it?” you urge.

“He suggested that we try OnlyFaes.” he says bluntly, watching you intently to gauge your reaction.

“O–Oh.” you say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mull over his words.

“Yeah, I–I thought it was insane at first.” he begins, shadows slithering around his wings as he looks at you with nervous eyes. “But then I got to thinking about it. Would it really be so bad? I–I mean, we already fuck all the time, and you’re insatiable as is,” he says with a small smirk, “What’s the difference between doing it alone versus in front of a camera? It’ll just be us still.”

Your mind races as you think about his suggestion. In all honesty, it seems less and less insane the more you think about it. You’ve heard of people making so much money on OnlyFaes, so what’s the real harm in it?

Before you can come up with a reply, Azriel takes your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks gently.

“I don’t want you to say yes right now. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not interested in, love.” he says quietly, searching your gaze for any signs of offense. “It might not be for us, we don’t even have to attempt it if you don’t feel comfortable with it. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

Something roils in your gut as he peers down at you lovingly, a strange feeling of lust mixed with sin.

“Yeah–Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Laughter and playful banter fill the living room of Nesta and Cassian’s apartment as you sit on the velvet couch with Nesta. She insisted you come over on your night off for a girl’s night, one filled with gossip, talk about all of your favorite smutty books, and plenty of wine. The conversation flowed naturally, and you eventually brought up the conversation you had with Azriel a few nights prior, the one you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days.

“Can you believe that?” you giggle, swirling the red liquid in your glass, “Az actually suggested that I should start an OnlyFaes. Me, of all people! Like I would make any money.”

Nesta smirks at you, shaking her head at your feigned outrage while sipping her own wine.

“I can believe it, actually.” she retorts, making you stop dead in your tracks. “I know you could make plenty of money. I make plenty on there and I’m sure you could make even more than I do, especially if you let Az fuck you–”

“Wait, wait–” you interject, brow furrowed as you sit up abruptly as she speaks. “You do OnlyFaes?”

“Of course I do, you didn’t know?” Nesta says casually, raising an eyebrow as you stare at her wide-eyed. “Me and Cass are so horny that we’re on each other almost all the time, might as well make some money while we’re going at it, you know?”

“Are you fucking with me right now, Nes?” you question, unable to read her facial expression as she watches with amusement as you obsess over this revelation.

“No, Y/N. I’m not fucking with you.” she laughs dryly.

“And–And you actually make money by doing this?” you continue, still skeptical.

Nesta nods, reaching for her phone, “Would me showing you my profile and my last payment from the site make you stop asking so many questions?”

You’re silent as you nod in reply, waiting impatiently as she pulls up the page on her phone. Nesta hands her phone to you, a small chuckle escaping her lips again as you go wide-eyed as you scroll. There were dozens of videos on her profile, some with Cassian, some with just her, along with countless photos of her in positions you truly weren’t sure were possible before seeing them with your own eyes.

“Oh, quit blushing like a schoolgirl,” Nesta’s voice makes you jump as she leans over to you, pressing a few buttons on her phone as you hold it, “it’s not like you and Azriel are vanilla saints in the bedroom who just stick to missionary. I’ve seen the two of you fuck before, remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, blush deepening as you recall the time Cassian and Nesta walked in on Azriel fucking you ruthlessly into the couch of their old shared apartment and didn’t stop once he noticed them.

“Uh huh, I’m sure you don’t,” she retorts, clicking one final button on her phone before letting go, revealing her last paycheck from the account, “Here’s the proof that I actually make some money.”

Some money was the understatement of the century if you were being honest. Last week alone Nesta had made $1200, and $1400 the week before, and some weeks she made up to $2000. The thought of making that much money in a month, let alone one week, was something you never thought you’d be able to do.

“I really think you should go for it,” Nesta urges genuinely as she watches you stare in wonder at her paychecks, “I think you’ll enjoy this a hell of a lot more than your shitty ass waitressing job.”

“Yeah–Yeah, I probably would,” you say sheepishly, handing the phone back to her as your mind races with the possibilities. “I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Perched on top of the kitchen counter, you admire the shirtless male in front of you as he finishes preparing a simple dinner for the two of you. It’s not uncommon for Azriel to make dinner, as you’re usually too tired to think about making anything by the time you get home from work. He plates the pasta with tomato sauce, adding some cheese on top before pouring two glasses of your favorite–but cheap–red wine.

Azriel tending to you–in any manner–is truly your favorite sight, the way he makes sure you’re always happy and cared for always makes your heart sing, and your core ache.

You take in every inch of him as he focuses on the glasses in front of him, eyes trailing from his half-wet hair from taking a shower a few minutes ago, down to his bare chest, over his tattooed shoulders to his muscular back and the wings–gods, those wings–between his shoulder blades. The bat-like wings behind him always make you damn near feral, loving the way they flare and twitch when you touch them, the way they make the already large Illyrian male seem even larger and more intimidating than he already is.

“Dinner, my love.” he says, finally breaking you from your trance as he turns to face you. Your cheeks are flushed red when he turns to you and he smirks, knowing he just caught you staring.

Before he can make any playful jabs at you for gawking, you let what’s been on your chest for the last day finally come out.

“I wanna do it.” you start, looking at him with fire and lust in your gaze.

“I mean, you always wanna do it–” he teases casually as he slides the plates onto the small table in between the kitchen and living room, “but can’t that wait? You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“No, no.” you shake your head at him, brow furrowing in frustration as you’re unsure how to word your next sentence. But fuck it, you’re just gonna say it, “I wanna try OnlyFaes.”

“Oh,” he says and you swear his voice drops an octave when he speaks, “you wanna do that, huh?”

He moves in one quick stride to stand between your spread thighs, trapping you on the countertop by bracketing his large hands on either side of you. You peer up at him with wide eyes, nodding wordlessly as his shadows flicker around the two of you.

“Are you sure?” he questions, his hazel eyes going dark as his mind races to impossibly inappropriate places.

“Yes,” you say confidently, reaching one hand up to tug through his dark hair, “I want you to fuck me on camera, Az. Wanna show the world how good I can be for you, Sir.”

The tension in the air is palpable as you draw out that last word, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes as he towers over you.

“I told you not to call me that unless you can handle finishing what you’re starting,” he nearly growls, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly, “and right now, you need to eat, not start this teasing shit.”

You hum in response, a glint of mischief in your eyes as your hand trails from his hair and down to the back of his neck, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. He groans against your mouth, pressing your body against his by tugging your ass to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist.

“What if I’m not hungry and I wanna finish what I’m starting?” you tease, angling your hips up to meet his, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants between you two, as you’re only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of underwear.

Azriel doesn’t have time to make any remarks before you pull him back in for another searing kiss. He keeps his lips on yours as one hand finds its way between your thighs, making you whine against his lips as his fingers hover over your core. Your hips buck into his hand as his index finger swirls over your clothed clit, making him groan as you nearly melt under his touch.

“Gods, thinking about me fucking you in front of a camera turns you on this much?” he teases, kissing down the side of your neck as you nod enthusiastically at him. He only chuckles and pushes the cloth of your panties to the side, slipping a thick finger into you without warning. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, Az.” you nearly plead, continuing to nod as he pumps the finger in and out a few more times before adding another. “I’m your little slut, wanna show everyone how good you make me feel.”

He hums in approval as you grind against his fingers, which drive into you quickly as you grip onto his shoulders to keep balance on the counter. His shadows travel beneath his shirt that you’re wearing, teasing your nipples as he focuses on your dripping cunt and swollen clit. You’re almost completely lost in the pleasure, that familiar knot forming in your stomach at a rapid pace while you whimper against his neck.

Just as you’re about to reach that sweet release, all stimulation from the male and his shadows stops, his hands back against the counter as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as if you’re a fish out of water as you look at him in disbelief.

“You need to eat and you’re not cumming until you do.” he says in a warning tone against your cheek before pulling away completely, motioning for you to follow him to the dining table after he smooths down your shirt and places your underwear back over your core.

“Az,” you plead, trudging along behind the male towards the table, “what if I told you that I ate a little bit, like, two hours ago?”

The male turns to look at you with narrowed eyes as he sits at the table, he definitely doesn’t believe a word you’re saying.

“Some asshole asked for a salad and then sent it back at least five times because none of them were right, so Omar let me have one of the remakes because of all the trouble the ass put me through,” you explain, ignoring the chair Azriel pulled out for you to sit in, opting to shift onto your knees in front of the male, “I’m not even hungry.”

That was a lie, you were hungry, but only for him.

He stares down at you, his face showing only cool composure as you crawl a bit closer to him on your knees, hands coming up to rest on his thighs as you sit between them. There’s a noticeable tent in his sweats in front of you, which you eye hungrily as one hand comes up to palm it through the thin fabric. You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, but continue when he doesn’t stop you.

It only takes one tug on the waistband of his sweats to free his large cock, letting it spring back in front of your face before grabbing the length. You’ll honestly never get used to how big it is, how your hand barely reaches around the entire girth when you stroke it, how it fills you up to the brim every time it’s in your mouth or in your cunt.

You stare up at him as he leans back in the chair, trying to keep his composure as you reach to kitten-lick and kiss the red, angry tip of his cock before attempting to take it into your mouth. He grunts as the tip hits the back of your warm throat, your tongue sliding over the underside as you fist the rest of his length that you can’t fit into your mouth. He looks down at you then, noticing the way your free hand snakes between your thighs and you rut your hips against your palm, desperately trying anything to cure the ache that he left between your thighs.

It’s then that he decides he’s not hungry–for anything except for you–anymore.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Azriel whimpers finally, tugging at your hair to pull you off his length. You look up to him with a furrowed brow, glassy eyes and a frown, disappointed in his denial. “You’re such a little needy cockslut, aren’t you?”

Before you can reply, you’re tugged from the ground and thrown over the male’s shoulder, making you squeal in surprise. He pushes the chair out of his way before turning on his heels to walk towards your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, love.” he murmurs as he kisses the outside of your upper thigh that’s nearest to his head, “let’s go practice for the camera.”

________________________________________

In all honesty, you never thought the two of you would actually follow through with this, but here you are, kneeling on your bed in the apartment you share with Azriel, wearing a new white silk slip over a matching lace thong while he sets up the camera facing where you’re sitting on the bed.

“Are you sure about this?” Azriel asks for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, searching your gaze for any signs of doubt before he turns the camera on.

“Az, I’m fine.” you assure him once more, pushing your nerves down as you stare at your beautiful boyfriend from across the room. “Now let’s get this shit started before I’m not horny anymore.”

He raises a brow at you and chuckles, toying with the buttons on the camera you borrowed from Nesta once more.

“Ready?”

You nod, watching Azriel closely as he clicks the button to turn the video on.

“Sit up straight and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” he says while taking a step towards the bed, “wanna see how beautiful you look before you get all fucked out on my cock, even though I love how cute you look then, too.”

You’re amazed at how quickly he switches into his usual sultry and serious tone, you immediately obey his command by straightening out your back, peering up at him through your lashes. You’re glad he’s acting like he normally does in the bedroom and is trying to make it seem as though it’s just the two of you as much as possible, like he’d promised the night before.

He takes another swift step and he’s at the foot of the bed, thigh brushing against your knee as he presses against the mattress. Your eyes rove over his body, taking in his bare, sculpted chest littered with swirling tattoos, his wings flared behind his shoulders, the silver chain adorning his neck, his black boxers hiding his best assets, all making your heart–and core–flutter. He reaches for your chin, gripping it lightly to force your gaze to meet his lust-filled eyes. He smirks down at you, taking in every inch of you.

“Hi love,” he nearly purrs, one hand falling to the strap of your slip, toying with the silk between his thumb and pointer finger, “I like this little outfit, is this all for me?”

“All for you, Sir.” you respond sweetly, fighting the urge to reach up and pull his lips down to yours by pressing your palms firmly against your bare thighs.

“Such a sweet girl,” he coos, fingers trailing through your hair towards the nape of your neck, tugging at the locks to make you whine. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, sitting pretty while you wait for me to set up. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your eyes light up at his words, nodding quickly as he chuckles at your enthusiasm. At this point, you’ve almost forgotten about the camera pointing at you, your brain nearly turned to mush just because of Azriel’s sweet yet domineering demeanor, just like you always do when he takes control.

“What kind of reward do you want tonight, love?” he says, watching you fidget excitedly under his touch.

“Wanna cum for you, Sir.” you say shyly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you stare up at him, “Wanna cum on your fingers, a–and your cock.”

“So greedy,” he teases, one hand roaming toward the swell of your breasts, “But since you’ve been such a patient girl for me, I think I can make that work.”

You nod excitedly in response, grinning as Azriel leans down to pull your lips into a swift kiss. He pulls away as quickly as he pulled you in, moving to sit behind you on the bed instead of standing in front of you. He situates you between his spread legs, adjusting to where you’re leaning against his chest with your knees bent and your thighs spread, putting you on full display.

He makes quick work of exploring your body, one hand kneading your right breast while the other pushes the hem of your slip up. You crane your neck to look up at him, a pout forming on your lips to silently beg for a kiss. Azriel obliges, releasing your breast to grip your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls you in for a kiss.

His other hand continues to roam along your spread thighs, massaging the soft skin with touches teasingly close to your core. You whine into the kiss, canting your hips against his hand to gain more friction as he teases you. His fingers brush against your clit once before pulling the lace thong down your legs to throw it on the ground, exposing your glistening core to him and the camera.

“Gods, you’re so wet.” he mutters against your cheek, one finger sliding into your heat with ease as you whine. “That’s it, such a good girl.”

Your head falls against his shoulder as you bite back a moan and snap your eyes shut, grinding your hips against his hand as he slowly pumps the digit in and out. His hand squeezes your throat then, a low disapproving growl falling from his lips making your eyes fly open to look up at him.

“Eyes on me, baby.” he warns, thumb reaching up to circle your clit as he adds a second finger, your mouth falling open in a silent whine as he does. “And don’t bite back those moans, I wanna hear you.”

You nod up at him with wide, glassy eyes as his fingers increase in speed, making a crude noise as they drive into your dripping cunt. Azriel groans above you, cock hardening against your back as you squirm and moan. His fingers are unforgiving, allowing you no time to adjust as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He looks away from you for only a moment, taking the chance to look at the two of you in the viewfinder next to the camera. The screen shows you sprawled out in front of him, staring up at him with glassy eyes as his shadows swirl around your waist and arms to keep you firmly against him. You look so fucked out already, desperate for more as his fingers pound into you.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, turning back to actually look down at you, eyes trailing along your form. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, a moan falling from your lips as you grip his large thigh, squeezing it firmly to keep yourself in place.

“Already so fucked out that you can’t even speak, huh?” he teases while tightening his grip on your throat to elicit a squeak of pleasure from your lips. “I haven’t even given you my cock yet, and you’re already a dumb little cockslut?”

“Y–Yes, yes, yes” you whimper, the words nearly a chant on your lips as you feel that familiar warmth winding up at your core. “I’m your dumb little cockslut, Sir. Just–Just wanna be your good girl and–and cum for you.”

It always amazes Azriel how easily you fall under a spell when he touches you, how easily you trust him with your pleasure like this. He smirks down at you, but can’t hide the adoration shining in his eyes as kisses your cheek gently, a stark contrast to his rough fingers in your heat and his skittering shadows holding you in place.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your skin, nodding at you. “Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

His words are your undoing, making you fall apart almost instantly. Your body shakes as you cum, and you feel nothing but white hot pleasure as he continues his assault on your core. You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as you tighten around his fingers, but you know Azriel is murmuring words of praise in your ear as he watches you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t relent when you come down from your high, fingers still pumping into you while his thumb circles your clit as you attempt to squirm away from him, but fail as his hand on your throat along with his shadows hold you in place.

“P–Please, I–I can’t.” you cry out, eyes wide as you plead with the male and twist in his arms. “I–I wanna cum on your cock now, n–not your fingers, Sir. Please.”

Azriel smirks as you beg, but finally slows his fingers to a halt and releases your throat.

“Since you were so good for me, I guess I can give you what you want.” he teases, repositioning you to sit in the middle of the bed once more, kneeling behind you this time. He kisses your shoulder as he tugs his boxers off, pulling at the silk strap of your slip. “Why don’t you take this off for me, sweet girl.”

You nod mindlessly as your eyes wander towards the viewfinder, remembering that you’re not exactly alone in this scenario. A deep blush spreads across your cheek as you pull the slip over your head, catching a glimpse of your bare body on the screen.

“So sexy,” you hear Azriel rasp out behind you, bringing you back to reality as he reaches for your hips, pushing your knees apart as he kneels between yours and presses your ass against his painfully hard cock. “You want my cock now, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” you plead, craning your neck to look back at him again.

He hums in approval as he kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear. His breath fans against your skin as his teeth graze your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as you wait for his instruction.

“Go ahead and bend over for me,” he orders, watching you with lust-filled eyes as you bend at the waist, pressing your chest to the bed with your ass still pressed against his cock.

Azriel’s shadows flick out then, tugging your hands to bind them behind your back, leaving you defenseless against the male behind you. He lets out a low groan as he takes you in, one hand kneading the fat of your ass as the other fists his length, teasing it between your folds slowly. You whine in response, craning your neck to look up at him with wide, needy eyes. The sight behind you is enough to make you fold immediately, enough to make you bend at any whim that he has. He’s staring at his cock with heavy-lidded eyes, arm and chest muscles flexed as he holds back the urge to slam into you right then. His wings droop slightly, but you can’t help but notice the way they twitch as his hips roll against yours. A moment later, he looks forward to meet your gaze, silently searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, but finding none.

“You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?” he questions, raising a brow at you as your hips rock back against his once, twice.

“Yes, Sir.” you reply quickly, eager to see how he wants you.

“Good girl.” he nearly purrs, voice low as he finally slams into you, cock filling you to the brim as you let out a small moan. “Fuck, always so tight.”

Azriel’s vice grip on your hips is the only thing holding you up as he fills you to the hilt, tip rubbing against your cervix with brutal force when he bottoms out. You can only cry out and take what he gives you as he picks up speed, just like he wanted. He smirks down at you, mind spinning as he takes you in; takes in how your ass bounces against his hips with each thrust, how your bound fists squeeze tightly behind your back, how your eyes brim with tears as you cry out in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Gods, it feels like your cunt was made for my cock,” he remarks, squeezing his eyes shut to push off a premature orgasm. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being at my mercy and going dumb on my dick, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I–I love it!” you nearly yell followed by a string of moans falling from your lips as a rogue shadow snakes around to toy with your clit. “F–Fuck, you’re so big, s–so full.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re taking it so well, though.” he praises, continuing his punishing pace. “I know you can give me another orgasm, wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

“I–I’m already close, Sir.” you admit, blushing as you peer back at him. “N–Need to cum, please.”

“That’s okay, baby.” he says gently, slamming his hips into you again as he slaps your ass lightly once. “You can do it, you can cum for me, baby.” he urges while his shadows press into your clit even more, “Cum on my cock, make a mess on my cock and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

The thought of him cumming in you spurs you on more than it should and before you know it, you’re cumming on his length, walls spasming around him feverishly as you cry out. Azriel curses under his breath as you do, only moments before he reaches his own climax, release coating your heat as his hips falter.

You swear you almost black out as you come down from your high, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations flooding your body as Azriel slows behind you. Once he stills, you relax, a small whimper falling from your lips as his shadows retreat from your body and your hands fall to your side once more as the rest of your body relaxes. You don’t know how long the two of you stay there, and barely notice Azriel pulling out of you and sliding off the bed, quickly moving to turn the camera off before returning to your side. He sits down next to you, peering down at you lovingly as you blink at him slowly.

“Hi, love.” he says gently, reaching over to push your hair out of your face.

“Hi, Az.” you reply tiredly, rolling over onto your side once you’ve caught your breath.

“You did so good for me, baby.” he coos before turning to the bedside table to grab the glass of water and washcloth he’d set out before you began earlier. “Take a drink for me.”

You sit up slowly, taking the glass to take a long sip as Azriel runs the washcloth over you legs and core, cleaning the slick from your thighs. Your heart flutters as he takes care of you, falling more and more in love with the male with every second he spends focused on you. He looks up as you finish off the glass of water, taking it from your hand before kissing your forehead lovingly.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine concern shining in his eyes, trying to decide if he missed any signs of your discomfort during the scene.

“I’m great, Az.” you say with a veritable smile, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a quick kiss. “That was amazing, you’re amazing.”

You swear you see a blush pass across his cheeks at your compliment, a smile gracing his lips as he nods at you. “How about you get changed into something comfortable while I order us some Thai takeout, yeah? We can eat on the couch and watch your favorite movie, and I’ll even give you a massage if you want.” he suggests, leaning down to kiss you again.

Your eyes light up at his suggestion, giggling happily at him, “You always spoil me,” you reply against his lips.

“Only because you always deserve it.”

________________________________________

It took you a few days to get the courage to finally post the video to your page, but you finally did. Nesta convinced you that she would help you edit the video. She even went as far as offering to ‘shout you out’ on her page, which entailed you posing with her in a pair of skimpy lingerie to post on her feed. Azriel wasn’t happy about that at first, but didn’t try to stop you from doing it, knowing it would only boost your page and get more engagement for your video thanks to Nesta’s established following.

You posted the video three days ago and essentially avoided opening the OnlyFaes app after that, scared to see the results of your scandalous endeavor.

So, when you returned from your evening class, you didn’t expect to find Nesta and Cassian lounging on your couch with Azriel, seemingly celebrating something with a bottle of champagne.

“There she is!” Cassian cheers when you walk in, grinning widely at you while reaching for a glass of champagne to hand to you.

“What’s this for?” you question, hesitantly taking the glass as you take the seat on the couch next to Azriel, who leans over to press a kiss to your forehead in greeting.

“We’re celebrating,” Azriel murmurs against your skin, a half-amused smirk on his lips as he looks down at you when you furrow your brow, “Celebrating our success. The champagne was entirely Cassian’s idea.”

“Your video was a hit,” Cassian laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously. “We just wanted to come say congrats.”

“Oh, it was?” you say, eyes widening as you reach for your phone quickly.

“It seems everyone loved both you and Azriel.” Nesta interjects, watching you with a smirk as you navigate to your OnlyFaes app.

You quickly open the app, noticing how the Notifications tab has a red bubble above it that says 99+ before clicking on your profile. Last time you checked, you only had one subscriber–Nesta’s account–and now you have over two thousand. You scroll down to the video, clicking on the thumbnail. The sight of 302,000 views makes your eyes widen once more, wondering how you missed all of the notifications from the apparently semi-viral video. Before exiting out of the video, the amount of comments catch your eye, urging you to scroll to see them.

faebae12: GODS he’s soooooo hot…and the way he looks at her!!! I need a male like this in my life.

daycourtbabygirl: his mouth is so fucking dirty and she’s SO sexy i need more of them ASAP

biggestwingspan9: came so fast. need someone to go dumb on my cock like this

subslut1000: what i would give to be between them…so fucking good

sizequeen75: ohhhh my gods his cock is so big i need to be tied down with shadows and fucked like that

The sound of laughter finally pulls you from your trance as you sort through the endless comments talking about how much they love the two of you, you finally look up to see Nesta and Cassian staring at you expectantly.

“I–I really didn’t expect this to happen.” you say sheepishly, blushing deeply as they continue to stare you down.

“You need to have more faith in yourself,” Nesta chides, raising a brow at you, “This is just the beginning, and you’re already doing so well. You were so hot.”

“You–You actually watched it?” you stammer.

“Of course I did,” she chuckles, and Cassian nods next to her while elbowing Azriel encouragingly. “I think you look like a great time, and who knows, maybe we could collaborate someday when you’re more comfortable. I would love to do some more dom work alongside these two,”

Cassian smirks at Nesta in agreement and you expect Azriel to tense beside you, but he doesn’t. You look to him then, and he smirks down at you as well before kissing your cheek.

“What do you think, love?” Azriel says, raising a brow at you, “Should we keep doing this and see where it takes us?”

Your mind races as you take in the whole situation, letting the fact that you were actually successful with this escapade finally settle in. A smile crosses your face then, core heating at the thought of continuing to let Azriel fuck you on camera. It sounds insane, but you truly don’t care anymore, especially since you both enjoyed it so fucking much.

“Yeah.” you say with a wide grin, “Yeah, I think we should keep going.”

tag list (add yourself here!): @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovalie @mulledwinetea @saltedcoffeescotch @mrsjna @chillymountsjess @azriels-human @messageforthesmallestman @delphinefour04 @kbear8863 @secretsicanthideanymore @randomgurl2326 @shushsstuff @caitm1 @eeniemeenie

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

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kazhanko-art · 1 day ago

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(sorry in advance if this was already answered)

so in overall, there are people across Canada of every political sway which all have their own reasons against trudeau. Some of those reasons are legit, some are not, and then there’s the complicated ones where it’s not always 100% trudeau or his parties fault but they also didn’t help things.

but some things to know

Trudeau’s father, Pierre Trudeau, left a legacy for Trudeau to follow; both in the sense that Pierre had accomplished a lot as a leader and shaped a lot of what Canada is today politically, but he was and continues to be a divisive figure, particularly in Quebec and the Prairies (that legacy also affects the liberal party overall, at least out here in Alberta, but that whole convo can wait for another time)

So trudeau had some big shoes to fill, and many would say he failed and some would say he only got the leadership position because of his name (I don’t personally agree with this entirely but his name is not irrelevant and probably played a part in it)

Additionally, Trudeau was first elected not long before Trump, and with the US being our closest ally (though the republicans seem eager to undermine that rn) navigating the relationship with trump was going to be a major part of his job, as well as upholding Canada’s foreign diplomacy and relations in general

finally, there have been multiple major economic and political events that occurred around and during Trudeau’s time as prime minister. One of these was a global oil crash in around 2014-15, which hit my home province and other prairie provinces hard, and has had lasting consequences to this day

So for the first point: unlike his father, Trudeau isn’t seen as much of a builder. While he and his party did accomplish some things, they have often been seen as ineffective in many ways. Trudeau was partially elected on the promise of electoral reform, something that could have addressed many of the issues with regionalism and political representation in Canada, but he ultimately declared he wouldn’t, a move which many saw as a self preserving one for him and his party. He also made many promises to Indigenous people, however how that turned out has been mixed, with many Indigenous Canadians feeling let down a betrayed (I believe he intitially had some of the highest Indigenous votes, which is important as if I remember right, Indigenous canadians otherwise tend to have lower rates of voter turn out for a variety of reasons)

That last point gets into the oil crash. You see Trudeau and the liberal party were already by default viewed with skepticism in the prairies, due to a feeling of courting central Canadian concerns over other (and specifically western) concerns. Alberta in particular has a bit of a bone to pick, partially due to a narrative of persecution some albertans have about about equalization payments and the environmental policies like the carbon tax, and some more legitimate reasons. One of the things that happened was that Alberta was struggling to get it’s oil out to the market, and oil was the main thing that kept the Albertan economy alive. With the massive drop in oil prices (I think it went down to like $50 a barrel) Alberta was struggling, with major layoffs across multiple sectors, many businesses leaving or closing, and both the downtown of Calgary and Edmonton being very miserable, often described as full of empty buildings at the time. Prior to that Alberta was providing a lot economically to the other the country and often felt like it was paying for the east (again, complex issue but we don’t have time for Canada’s petty regionalism) Trudeau was seen as unconcerned and unhelpful in this situation, even forgetting to mention alberta when listing off every other province as great, which many took as intentional.

So Alberta pushed for multiple pipelines to get the oil out, however there was opposition from other provinces (I think BC and Quebec specifically) and the pipelines ran through Indigenous territory. That whole debacle was a pretty large political thing but the main thing is that the Indigenous territory was unceded land and that the hereditary chiefs opposed the pipeline, but the RCMP tried to force out the chiefs and protestors. Trudeau was sort of wishy washy the whole time this was going on, but in the end the federal government bought the pipeline, and basically managed to piss all sides of the issue off, as Alberta still lost money and was struggling economically, and the Indigenous people and environmentalists felt betrayed

another thing that happened was the SNC Lavelin scandal. SNC Lavelin is a quebec based engineering firm that provided a lot of jobs; however they also had been charged with corruption for helping (I think it was Gaddafi’s son) escape Libya. The charges would prevented then from taking on some contracts and effected employment. Trudeau basically tried to stop the charges in order to save jobs in central Canada. This involved him trying to give the executive branch over the judicial branch, which undermined the separation of powers in our democratic institution. It also eventually led to Jody Wilson Raybound, who was acting as attorney general and is an Indigenous woman, to resign and then later be expelled by trudeau. That whole period of time was a mess and it’s again, a long and complicated thing, but for people it pissed off:

Prairie Canadians and Albertans specifically once again felt shafted. While it felt like the federal government couldn’t care less about the economies or well being of these provinces, Trudeau actively tried to save a company from legal consequences to save the jobs in other provinces (this was after also helping other job markets in central canada)

Indigenous people were mad because JWR was fucked over along with some disillusionment with the truth and reconciliation the government had promised

there were feminists who side eyed trudeau as he is a self declared feminist and promised a lot in the way of supporting women and having women in his caucus, yet here he was forcing a woman out, making him come across as a closet misogynist who was using the presence of these women in his party for his own gain while not really recognizing their competencies as politicians and leaders

Trudeau also came across as very meek in the presence of Trump. While his team successfully navigated Trump’s first round of tariffs, that was more on Christina Freeland then him. He also had gaffs on his trip to India, who he failed to improve Canada’s relationship with, and arguably worsened by posing in a photo with a terrorist (Canada already had a complicated relationship with India btw)

Trudeau’s government also had a very high rate of immigration. Now that in of itself isn’t bad; Canada has always had immigration and anyone who has moved here can tell you, even under Trudeau it is a long and hard process to become a PR. However many Canadian housing markets were already pricing out residents (Vancouver and Toronto have been bad for a while) and do to a combination of fuck ups between federal, provincial, and municipal governments, along with many Canadians being resistant to high density housing and land being given to firms that would develop luxury instead of affordable housing (and so many other factors) meant that with the rate of immigration, there were a lot of people coming in faster than there were homes being made available. This was one of many contributing factors to Canada’s current housing crisis. Additionally Trudeau’s government repeatedly ran on deficits and added a lot to national debt, and often came across as tone deaf to Canadians struggling with the rising cost of living.

That then bled into the pandemic, which of course had massive political ramifications everywhere, and the freedom convoy which both bolstered growing polarization in Canada (as is an issue across the western world) and was again, an issue where Trudeau came across as an ineffective leader and managed to anger multiple sides.

Eventually we got to now where Trudeau’s own party asked him to step down. He is seen as someone who cannot properly navigate or stand up to trump, was accused by former party members of using gimmicks to win over Canadians while mismanaging the cost of living crisis and economy, and is seen by many as incompetent, self serving, and detached from many parts of Canadian society

There is also way more I could add, but basically, for many what it comes down to is

-he failed on many of his promises that people voted him in for, whether that be electoral reform, truth and reconciliation, or other progressive policie

-he came across as out of touch, dismissive, and even spiteful to some towards many parts of Canada, both regionally and demographically

-he came across as dishonest and two faced, often failing groups and causes he claimed to support

-simultaneously, people who already didn’t like him were given more reasons to dislike him, leading to him feeling like a fence sitter who repeatedly screwed up when he was needed

-he came across as spineless and incompetent as Canadians desired a leader who felt more secure

-he is seen as mismanaging the economy, diplomacy, immigration, and housing and being responsible for Canada’s current issues (although many of those topics are very complicated and are not purely his fault)

-fundamentally, Trudeau has struggled in many ways for the same reason other incumbent liberal leaders globally. While Canada is not as bad as in the US and some European nations in this regard, we have seen a rise globally in extremism and populism, as many have grown disillusioned with more established politicians and parties. But for Canadians, he fundamentally failed to navigate our regionalism, shifting politics, crisis of living, and growing political divide

There’s probably other things. For the record, while I personally don’t like Trudeau (my main reason stemming from SNC Lavelin) I don’t agree with all the reasons I’ve listed, but those are some of the reasons across the political spectrum I’ve seen. This is also more focused on Alberta and the west because that’s where I’m from and lived through, I’m sure other people from across the country could give many of their own insights

#canada #canadian politica #politics #trudeau #long post

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missarchive · 2 days ago

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american jesus³ ☆

spencer reid

part one part two part three

summary; The delicate veil of secrecy is torn, unraveling a truth neither were prepared to face.

A fleeting mistake reveals their intertwined worlds, forcing them to confront the forbidden desire that binds them. Love and restraint wage a quiet war, their connection teetering on the edge of discovery, threatening to unravel everything they’ve built.

cw; angst, spencer yells at the reader, age gap, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, big big feelings = big big argument, lots and lots of yearning, student/teacher relationship (ezra and aria who?) no smut in this part (i know, disappointing), you'll have to wait for part 4 ;)

an; as always, thank you for taking the time to read my work, i hope you all enjoy. please consider leaving feedback in the form of a comment or an ask if you did enjoy, i always love hearing from you <3

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Spencer murmurs, his voice low and steady, almost like he’s thinking out loud. He’s not saying anything groundbreaking, just a simple truth, but you can feel the sincerity in every word.

You’re lying next to him, the warmth of his body pressing gently against yours, the world outside his apartment fading away. There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s just you and Spencer, the quiet hum of the city muted by the walls of the apartment. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm, the touch both soothing and reassuring, like a silent promise.

You turn your head slightly to look at him, catching his gaze, and his eyes soften when they meet yours. “Lucky?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips. “Why’s that?”

He shrugs, his expression relaxed, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place—something that makes your chest tighten in a good way. “I don’t know. You’re... everything. You just get me, you know? You always know when I’m overthinking or when I need a minute, and you’re there without making a big deal out of it.”

You chuckle softly, rolling onto your side to face him more fully. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of mind reader.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” he continues, his hand resting lightly on your hip now, fingers gently tracing along your skin. “You’re so... intuitive. So much more than I ever expected.”

You’re not sure why, but something about the way he says it makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world he could say that to. It feels real—genuine, even. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you say, your voice quieter now, the smile still lingering on your lips.

Spencer laughs softly, his fingers brushing over your hair. “I don’t know about that,” he says, though the affection in his voice is undeniable. “But I’m definitely glad you’re here. Glad it’s... us.”

“Me too,” you whisper back, settling a little closer to him, resting your head against his chest. It’s easy, this thing between you. Comfortable in a way that doesn’t need to be overanalysed or explained. You both know where you stand, and that’s enough.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really like being with you. More than I can say.”

You close your eyes, letting the simple words wash over you, content in the quiet of the moment. The world outside can wait. Here, with him, everything feels just right.

So as you crossed the campus the next morning, your bag tucked tightly against your side like a fragile secret, you couldn’t help but think of him. The air was crisp, carrying the faint tang of autumn, and the hum of the campus buzzed around you. Laughter echoed from a nearby bench, the scrape of skateboard wheels over concrete punctuating the morning stillness. It was a world in motion, but for you, each step felt heavier, each breath tighter.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, jolting you from your spiralling thoughts. A welcome distraction. You stepped into the shadow of a quiet corner in the quad, your back leaning against the cool brick of a building as you pulled it out. The message preview glowed softly on the screen, taunting you with its simplicity. Just a few words, but enough to make your stomach twist. You hesitated, the pad of your thumb hovering over the notification, before swiping it open.

@ thefourthdoctor; Big day today, right? How's it going so far?

You smiled to yourself. He had a way of grounding you, even when the chaos of life seemed overwhelming. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you typed back quickly.

@ laceandliterature; Surviving so far. One more class. Supposedly the professor is a genius or something.

@ thefourthdoctor; Genius professors are overrated. Bet you'll end up teaching them something.

You let out a soft laugh, earning a curious glance from the student beside you. You put your phone away as the chatter in the room began to quiet. The door at the front of the classroom opened, and a tall, slightly disheveled man stepped in.

"Good afternoon," he began, his voice smooth and steady, carrying just enough authority to quiet the murmur of the room. "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and I’ll be your professor for this semester."

A cold shiver ran through you, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, your brain refused to process them, to connect the dots. It was like a veil had dropped over the classroom, the world outside of him fading into a muffled blur. He was your Spencer—your secret, your late-night confidant, the person who had slowly crept into your thoughts, into your heart.

And now, as you looked up, there he was. Dr. Spencer Reid. The very thought of it made you freeze.

The world around you seemed to tilt, gravity losing its hold, as if the earth had somehow shifted beneath your feet. The air in the room thickened, and your pulse hammered in your ears. You could feel every eye in the room, but all you could focus on was him—on the way his gaze flickered over the crowd, on the moment he paused as if feeling your presence before his eyes locked onto yours.

It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening.

Recognition flashed in his eyes, swift and sharp like a lightning strike, followed by something darker—something that mirrored the panic rising in your chest. His steps faltered, a momentary loss of composure. For an agonizing second, he looked like he might trip over his own feet, his hand reaching instinctively to grip the edge of the podium, as though it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His lips parted, as if he meant to speak, but the words didn’t come.

The room around you blurred, every sound drowned out by the rushing roar of your heart, by the sudden weight of the truth crashing down on you. Dr. Spencer Reid, the man you had been talking to for weeks, the one you had come to trust with pieces of yourself you’d never shared with anyone, was standing in front of you—your professor. The line between you had just dissolved into nothing, and the implications hit you all at once.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were filled with something raw and unsettled—confusion, maybe even disbelief, a look that mirrored the one you felt inside. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. You were so close to something, to something more, to a feeling you’d been fighting to define, but now… now it all felt tainted. The connection you had with him was something that had blossomed in the quiet, the secrecy, and now it felt so exposed, so fragile, hanging on the edge of something you couldn’t control.

You watched him struggle to regain his composure. His face was flushed, his brow furrowed with tension, but there was something else beneath it—something deep, something that had been there all along, though you hadn’t dared to name it. The reality of the situation hit you with crushing force: the late-night conversations, the casual affection, the way he made you feel seen and heard… It had all been real. But so was this.

He opened his mouth again, but it wasn’t to speak to you—not directly. He cleared his throat, pulling himself together with shaky breath, and in that instant, you knew that everything had changed. He was no longer the man you had been texting, the one who had shared things with you that felt impossible to tell anyone else. No. Now, he was your professor, the person whose authority you were supposed to respect, the person who had the power to affect your future in ways you hadn’t even considered.

You tried to steady your racing thoughts, but the reality of what was happening, what had just happened, pressed down on you. This wasn’t just an awkward surprise. This was a violation of all the boundaries you thought you could keep between your personal life and the rest of the world. You felt your chest tighten as the dread crept in.

You had been so close. So close to something real, something that had started to feel like it could actually be more than just a fleeting connection. But now? Now, you were staring into the abyss of what could only be a mess. His eyes kept flicking to you, but he didn’t speak directly to you again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the class, clearing his throat one more time before continuing, his voice more composed but still carrying an undercurrent of something strained.

"...I’ll be teaching cognitive development this semester," he said, his tone firm but not quite steady. "It’s a challenging course, but I’m confident you’ll all be able to keep up."

His words felt hollow, detached, as though he were going through the motions, but every syllable felt like an echo of everything you could no longer ignore.

You stayed rooted in your seat, a cold heaviness settling over you, your heart racing, your mind reeling. The world had just shifted, and you weren’t sure how to catch your breath.

"Uh," he stammered, his voice betraying a crack of unsteadiness. "As I said, I’m Dr. Reid. I, uh, specialise in behavioural psychology and philosophy. If you need anything, my office hours are listed in the syllabus, which you should have received by email."

He spoke too quickly, the words tumbling out like they might shield him from the reality of the moment. His hands gripped the podium tightly, and though his eyes swept over the room, you could tell he was avoiding looking directly at you. His composure was a fragile thing, threatening to crumble with every second that passed.

Your stomach churned as the implications of this impossible situation sank in. The air in the room felt stifling now, too warm, too heavy. You were hyperaware of him—of the way he stood just a little too rigidly, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way his voice had wavered when he said anything.

This was the man who had been your confidant, the one who made you feel seen in a way no one else had. And now, he was standing in front of you, holding a position of authority that made every shared moment, every word exchanged, a dangerous secret.

He risked another fleeting glance in your direction, his expression unreadable. The air between you felt charged, like the space before a storm, filled with things left unsaid and too many emotions packed into too little time.

Your mind raced, a tangled mess of shock, dread, and something heartbreakingly close to longing. How could this possibly work? Could it even work at all?

Spencer turned back to his papers, his shoulders tight as he forced himself to continue. But the damage was done. The moment had shattered the fragile wall between your two worlds, and now you were left to navigate the wreckage.

And now, he was standing here, just feet away, your professor.

You could still feel his eyes on you, even when he wasn’t looking directly your way. You knew he felt it too—the electricity, the undeniable tension.

As the class dragged on, each word Spencer spoke felt like it was coming from miles away. You couldn’t focus, couldn’t absorb anything except the overwhelming weight of the truth. Dr. Spencer Reid. The realization kept replaying in your mind like a broken record, the echo of it rattling your thoughts until everything else faded into white noise. You tried to look at him objectively, tried to see the professor in front of you, but all you saw was the man who had become your secret, your late-night refuge. The man who, just hours ago, you had felt yourself slipping closer to, only to have the ground ripped out from under you.

When the lecture finally ended, the final bell a dull thud in your chest, you stayed in your seat for a beat too long, uncertain. The others filed out, chattering and laughing, their voices lost to you as if you were underwater. You debated, internally torn between confronting him—demanding answers—or simply running the other way and never looking back.

But before you could decide, before you could move, you caught his eye. Just for a second. It was brief, fleeting, but in that shared glance, you saw it—the acknowledgment, the silent recognition that you were both trapped in the same web of confusion and unspoken desire. His gaze held something more: a question, a plea, a silent call for understanding. You weren’t sure which one it was, but you felt it.

Neither of you said a word, but the air between you grew thick with it, with everything you weren’t saying. It hung there, heavy and suffocating, the invisible barrier that now separated you. You wanted to speak, to ask him what this meant, to demand the answers that both of you seemed too afraid to say aloud. But you didn’t. And neither did he.

This was going to complicate everything.

The days after that first class passed in a blur. The initial shock had dulled, but it had left behind an uneasy tension, a strange sort of tightness in the air between you and Spencer. Something had shifted between you both, but neither of you knew how to handle it, how to navigate the mess of emotions and risks.

In lectures, Spencer kept his gaze trained firmly ahead, rarely letting it wander to your corner of the room. When he did glance in your direction, it was quick, as if he feared even that brief moment of connection might undo him. The smooth flow of his lecture, once so natural, now had a stutter to it when you raised your hand, your voice, anything. The usual rhythm was broken, disrupted by the constant awareness of each other. Every word you spoke seemed to have the weight of a thousand unspoken things behind it, like every sentence was a landmine that could blow everything apart.

Outside of class, things were no easier. The messages between you and Spencer, once frequent and filled with ease, had become painfully measured. You had both learned to carefully choose your words, as if a wrong one could expose everything—the feelings you were hiding, the longing you couldn’t keep at bay, the dangers that now clung to every thought and touch. Every interaction felt like it was wrapped in a shroud of what ifs—what if someone found out? What if this all fell apart? What if it was too late?

But despite the careful distance, despite the impossible situation you found yourselves in, you couldn’t stay away. There was something magnetic between you, a pull that neither of you could resist. Each encounter, each brief exchange, only made it worse, only made you want him more.

And yet, you couldn’t have him. Not like this. Not with the risk of everything unraveling in an instant. But every part of you screamed that you couldn’t walk away, that you couldn’t let go of the thing that had begun to feel so real. And every part of him seemed to feel the same way.

There’s something almost sacred in the way he moves, the way he speaks, each word falling from his lips like it’s meant only for you, like you’re the only one who can truly hear it. You can't help but trace every line of his face, from the sharp curve of his jaw to the faint scrunch of his brow when he's lost in thought. His every gesture seems like poetry, something you could study for hours, even days.

You idolise him in a way that feels almost holy, a quiet reverence in the way you let your gaze linger on him, not just as your professor, but as someone untouchable. Every time his eyes sweep the room, you hold your breath, hoping, praying that maybe this time, they’ll land on you—just you. But they never do.

And still, you can’t stop. He’s your obsession, your quiet prayer whispered to the stars. You don’t just listen to him; you drink in every syllable, every inflection of his voice, as if his words are the only truth worth knowing. And in those moments, the world falls away, leaving only you and him—alone, even if you’re not.

It started in whispers, in moments so small they were almost imperceptible. A lingering glance after class that held for just a second too long. The way his fingers brushed yours when he handed back a graded paper, the touch fleeting but electric. You told yourself these gestures didn’t matter, that they were coincidences or figments of your imagination. But you knew better. You felt it in your chest, in the way your breath caught each time his eyes met yours and lingered.

Then one evening, as you packed up your notebook and pens after a lecture, his voice stopped you mid-motion.

“Y/N,” he said softly, careful not to draw the attention of the few students still milling about. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

You froze, your heart skipping, then nodding as you tried to keep your face neutral. His eyes darted around the room, scanning for onlookers, before he gestured toward the hallway.

The atmosphere in Spencer’s office was tense, a quiet unease pressing down on both of you. The faint hum of the overhead light mixed with the distant sounds of the campus outside, but neither did much to distract from the gravity of the conversation.

Spencer sat behind his desk, his fingers lightly drumming against the edge as he stared at the scattered papers in front of him. His gaze was unfocused, the weight of what he needed to say pulling at his normally composed demeanor. You leaned against the closed door, arms crossed, your posture guarded.

“This isn’t just risky,” he said after a long silence, his voice steady but low. He glanced up at you, his eyes serious. “If anyone finds out, it could ruin both of us.”

You straightened, arms dropping to your sides. “I know the risks, Spencer. But walking away isn’t an option for me, and I don’t think it is for you either.”

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh. “It’s not. But that means we have to be careful—really careful. We need rules. Boundaries. Something to protect us.”

You stepped closer to his desk, pulling a chair to sit across from him. “Okay,” you said, keeping your voice even. “Let’s figure it out. What’s non-negotiable?”

He hesitated, his fingers lacing together as he thought. “First, no public displays of affection. Not even subtle things. On campus, we have to act like nothing’s going on. No lingering looks, no casual touches—nothing.”

“Agreed,” you said, though the thought of keeping that distance stung. “We can’t give anyone a reason to suspect us.”

“And no communication about us through email or official channels,” he added. “If we need to talk, it has to be in person or through something secure.”

You nodded. “There are private apps we could use, encrypted ones. Only for emergencies, though. No casual texting.”

The practicality of it all settled over you both, the careful parameters of what you could and couldn’t do drawing a stark line around the relationship.

Spencer looked at you, his expression softer now, though no less serious. “If at any point this feels like too much—if it starts to put pressure on your life or your future—you have to tell me. I don’t want you to feel trapped in this.”

You met his gaze, holding it firmly. “That goes both ways. If you start to feel like this is putting your career in jeopardy, you need to tell me.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Deal.”

The conversation felt clinical, like drawing up a contract, but it was necessary. The risks weren’t hypothetical—they were real, and you both knew what was at stake.

“Do you think this will work?” you asked after a pause, your voice quieter now.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he looked at you. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know I’m willing to try. For you.”

His honesty grounded you, cutting through the uncertainty. “Then we’ll make it work,” you said simply.

You found ways to navigate the tightrope of your relationship, though every step felt like it could be the one that sent you both tumbling into ruin.

You started meeting in places where no one would recognise you. A quiet café on the outskirts of town. A secluded bench in the park. The conversations were tentative at first, but the connection between you refused to fade.

One night, as the rain pattered softly against the windows of his apartment, you found yourself curled up on his couch, your head resting on his shoulder.

“You know this is insane, right,” he muttered, though his arm tightened around you.

“Probably,” you admitted, tilting your head to look up at him. “But doesn’t it feel worth it?”

His gaze lingered on yours, conflicted but warm. “It does,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “And that’s what scares me.”

The line between you and Spencer was razor-thin, a fragile, trembling thread neither of you dared to define. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, the dizzying height both thrilling and terrifying. You both knew the fall was inevitable, yet neither of you could step away. Instead, you lingered there, savouring the tension in those fleeting moments before gravity claimed you.

One late afternoon, as the sun dipped low and painted the campus in gold and shadow, you found yourself outside his office door. The brass plaque bearing his name gleamed faintly, a stark reminder of the boundaries you were about to cross. Your pulse quickened as you raised a hand and knocked softly, the sound barely louder than your breath.

“Come in,” he called, his voice muffled, distracted.

You slipped inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. Spencer sat hunched over his desk, papers sprawled across its surface like a chaotic map of his thoughts. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his hair fell untamed over his forehead, catching the fading light.

When he looked up and saw you, the tired lines of his face softened. His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, one that chased away some of the tension in his shoulders. “You’re here,” he said, his voice warmer now, but still tinged with a nervous edge. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” you admitted, stepping closer. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

He stood slowly, his movements hesitant as though torn between his delight at seeing you and the weight of the risks that lingered between you. “I’ve been thinking about you too,” he confessed, his hand moving to the back of his neck. “But this... it’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you replied, your voice steady but gentle.

He shook his head with a quiet laugh, though it lacked humor. “You make it sound so simple.” His gaze dropped to the floor before returning to you, his expression earnest. “I’m glad you’re here—I always am—but... we have to be careful.”

“I know,” you said, your tone softer now. “But I needed to see you.”

He exhaled, taking a step toward you, the space between you narrowing. “This is dangerous,” he said, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed the firmness of his words. “For both of us. You understand that, right?”

“Yes,” you replied, your gaze locking with his. “I understand. But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

The honesty of your words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. Spencer’s breath hitched, and he hesitated for a moment before closing the remaining distance between you.

His hands came to rest gently on your waist, his touch light but steady, as if testing the limits of how close he could let himself be. “You make it impossible to think straight,” he murmured, a faint, self-deprecating smile on his lips.

“Then don’t think,” you whispered, your hand rising to cup his face. Your thumb brushed against the stubble along his jaw, the touch grounding. “Just let yourself feel, Spencer.”

His resolve faltered, and after a brief, wavering pause, he gave in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent, as though trying to convey everything he couldn’t say aloud.

When you pulled back, your breaths mingled in the space between you, your foreheads resting together. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, reluctant to let you go.

“This is reckless,” he murmured, though his tone lacked any real conviction.

“Then tell me to leave,” you said softly, challenging him with your eyes. “If you really believe this is a mistake, say it, and I will.”

Spencer’s silence stretched, his gaze searching yours for an answer he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Then, instead of pushing you away, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss—slower this time, more deliberate.

In that moment, the rest of the world faded away. It didn’t matter that this was risky or complicated. All that mattered was the way his arms felt around you, and the way he whispered your name like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

But even as you clung to him, the weight of reality loomed just beyond the door. You both knew the balance wouldn’t hold forever. Every stolen moment brought you closer to the edge, but neither of you was ready to let go. Not yet.

The weeks that followed were nothing short of surreal, a delicate haze of stolen moments and whispered confessions that felt like they existed outside of time. For a brief, golden sliver of your lives, the rest of the world melted away. The tension and danger that had once defined your relationship softened, and in its place grew something that felt achingly close to normal—a fleeting illusion of safety in a house of cards.

During the day, Spencer was every bit the professor. His lectures were sharp, his insights unmatched, and his demeanour coolly professional. He kept his distance, his gaze skimming over you with the same neutrality he granted every student. But in the evenings, when the classroom emptied and the cloak of twilight fell over the city, those carefully maintained facades slipped away.

You found solace in the quiet intimacy of those stolen hours, the shared secret between you and Spencer feeling like a delicate, shimmering bubble that shielded you from the outside world—if only for a little while. His apartment, modest and unassuming, became your sanctuary. Under the cover of darkness, you would arrive, greeted by the soft, golden glow of a desk lamp that bathed the room in warmth. The light cast long, flickering shadows across the walls, giving the space an almost dreamlike quality.

He’d sit at his desk, his slender fingers skimming over pages of handwritten notes or flipping through the well-worn pages of a book. Papers were scattered in controlled chaos before him, but his focus would inevitably drift to you. Meanwhile, you lounged on his worn, olive-green couch, the fabric soft from years of use, a book resting in your hands. The faint scent of old paper mingled with the subtle aroma of his cologne, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

One evening, the air felt particularly still, broken only by the soft scratch of his pen against paper and the occasional rustle of pages as you turned them. The tension between you wasn’t heavy��it was something quieter, more tender, like the gentle pull of a tide.

“I’m starting to think you’re only here to distract me,” he teased, his voice breaking the silence. His eyes flicked up from his notes, catching yours across the room. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his expression a perfect blend of amusement and affection.

You looked up from your book, tilting your head with a playful grin. “Maybe I am,” you replied, your tone light but laced with an unmistakable warmth. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

He leaned back in his chair, the smirk softening into something more vulnerable, more honest. “I don’t,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, carrying a sincerity that made your chest tighten. His gaze lingered on you, filled with a kind of unspoken gratitude, as though you were the one thing anchoring him amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

The moment stretched between you, delicate and unbroken, like the fragile stillness before a storm. In that space, with only the golden lamplight and the quiet hum of shared presence, the world outside faded away.

Some nights, you’d find yourselves in his small, modest kitchen, an intimate space that seemed to wrap around you like a cocoon. The countertops were cluttered with mismatched utensils and a few carefully chosen cookbooks, their spines cracked from frequent use. The narrow layout forced you close, your movements effortlessly weaving around each other, as though this was a dance you’d been perfecting for years.

You’d stand at the counter, chopping vegetables with a focus that was occasionally interrupted by his amused glances. Meanwhile, he’d hover over the stove, stirring something fragrant and humming softly under his breath. The warm, savoury scent of simmering herbs and spices filled the air, mingling with the faint crackle of oil in the pan.

“Reid, you’re a genius, not a chef,” you teased, pausing to nudge him gently with your elbow. The touch was casual, yet the closeness sent a subtle thrill through you.

Without missing a beat, he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “I think genius qualifies me for multitasking,” he retorted, his tone light and laced with dry humor.

The way he spoke, so earnest yet teasing, made you laugh—an easy, carefree sound that filled the small space. His smile widened at the sound, the fondness in his expression unmistakable. He turned back to the stove, stirring the pot with careful precision, as though the act of cooking together was as much about the process as the meal itself.

Occasionally, his arm would brush against yours, the fleeting contact as natural as it was electric. He’d reach over you to grab a spice jar, murmuring an absent “Excuse me,” though his hand would linger just a moment too long against yours.

He told you stories about the BAU, his voice animated as he recounted Morgan’s relentless pranks or Garcia’s exuberance. You’d laugh until tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, your sides aching from the joy of it.

“This feels too good to be true,” you murmured one night, leaning against the counter as you watched him stir a pot of pasta.

“It does,” he replied, glancing at you with a small, almost shy smile that made your chest tighten. “But I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to enjoy this.”

And you did. You savoured the moments as though they might slip through your fingers at any moment. But beneath the surface, there was always a quiet awareness—a faint, unspoken dread. You both knew this fragile peace couldn’t last forever. The bubble you lived in was too perfect, too delicate, and the outside world was never far away.

The nights were the best, the moments you cherished most. Wrapped in his arms, the world outside ceased to exist. Time itself seemed to slow down, fading into the background as everything else fell away. The warmth of his skin against yours was enough to make the chaos of the day disappear. He’d trace lazy patterns across your back or along your arms, the soft rhythm of his touch sending a sense of peace through you, grounding you in the present moment. His voice would hum softly, a low murmur that carried the oddest mix of comfort and distraction. He’d recite obscure facts with the same earnestness he applied to everything else, his words a strange lullaby that somehow felt both educational and intimate.

“Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?” he said one evening, his body pressed close to yours, limbs tangled together like the quietest dance. His voice was warm, the amusement in it making your pulse quicken slightly.

You laughed softly, feeling the slight vibration of his chest against your cheek. You buried your face against his skin, closing your eyes for a moment to soak in the sense of peace that only seemed to exist here, with him. “And here I thought you didn’t have one at all,” you teased, a playful smirk pulling at your lips.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, a soft, almost reverent touch that stilled your teasing. His expression shifted, becoming something quieter, something that caught you off guard. The warmth of his breath against your skin softened, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade.

“I do,” he whispered, the words a soft confession, barely audible but filled with weight. “And it’s yours.”

The words hung in the air, more potent than anything he had said before. The way he said them, so sure, so vulnerable, made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to respond, but the truth was—there was nothing to say. The vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his touch, said everything you needed to know.

The bubble burst on an otherwise ordinary evening. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Spencer, your shared secret giving you a sense of intimacy that felt almost unbreakable. But the thing about bubbles is that they’re fragile, no matter how much you want them to last.

It started with a message.

Spencer had been quiet all day, his usual goodnight text conspicuously absent the night before. When you finally worked up the courage to check your phone, there it was.

@ thefourthdoctor; We need to talk. Can you come over?

Your heart sank as you read the words. “We need to talk” was never a good sign.

The walk to his apartment felt longer than usual, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what he might say. By the time you arrived, your hands were trembling as you knocked on the door.

He opened it quickly, stepping aside to let you in without a word. His expression was tense, his usually warm eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite place.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely steady.

He closed the door, running a hand through his hair. “Something happened,” he said, his tone clipped.

The weight of his words settled heavily in your chest. “What do you mean? Did someone—”

“Someone knows,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “Or at least, someone suspects.”

You blinked, your stomach twisting. “How? Who?”

“I don’t know who,” he said, pacing the small living room. “But today, a coworker asked me why I’ve been acting distracted. He didn’t say anything outright, but I could tell he’s suspicious. And if he’s suspicious, it’s only a matter of time before someone else starts asking questions.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. “What did you say to him?”

“I brushed it off,” he said, his voice strained. “But this isn’t just about the team. If the school finds out…” He trailed off, his hands clenched into fists.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

“So, what are you saying?” you finally asked, your voice trembling.

He stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m saying we need to stop this. Whatever this is, it’s not worth the risk.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Not worth the risk?” you repeated, your voice rising. “Is that all this is to you? A risk?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, but the damage was done.

“Then what did you mean, Spencer?” you demanded, your voice cracking. “Because it sounds a lot like you’re saying I’m not worth it.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his silence louder than any words he could have said.

“Unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought—” Your voice broke, and you had to swallow hard before continuing. “I thought this meant something to you.”

“It does,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You mean something to me. But this—us—it’s reckless. It’s dangerous. And if we keep going, we’re both going to get hurt.”

“So, what? You’re just giving up?” you asked, tears stinging your eyes. “You’re walking away because it’s easier than fighting for me?”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it.

“Protect me from what?” you shot back. “From caring about you? From wanting to be with you?”

“From yourself!” he yelled, his words cutting through the air like a knife. “You don’t think things through! You’re impulsive and immature, and you don’t understand the consequences of your actions!”

The room went still, his words hanging heavy between you.

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your chest heaving as the weight of his words crushed you. “Is that what you really think of me?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His face softened for a split second, regret flashing in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

“Maybe we should’ve never started this,” he said quietly, the words like a final blow.

You felt something inside you shatter. Without another word, you turned and walked to the door, your movements mechanical as you grabbed your coat.

"I'll write you a check, Spencer," you spat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can have every cent back, every single dollar you ever gave me. I don’t want it anymore—I don’t want any of it. Not the money, not the memories, not you.”

“Wait,” he called, his voice desperate now. But you didn’t stop.

As the door closed behind you, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the hallway as you walked away.

This time, you didn’t look back.

Spencer stood frozen in the middle of his living room, staring at the door you had just slammed shut. The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

He felt hollow, like the argument had carved out a piece of him and taken it with you when you left. His chest ached, and his hands hung uselessly at his sides, still trembling from the heat of the fight.

Anger flickered in him—not at you, but at himself. The words he’d thrown at you echoed in his mind, sharp and bitter. Impulsive. Immature. Reckless. He had said them to push you away, to make you understand the gravity of the situation. But now they tasted like poison, regret seeping into every corner of his mind.

What have I done?

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. He sank onto the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. His mind replayed the look on your face when he had yelled at you—the way your eyes had glistened with unshed tears, the tremble in your voice when you asked if that was what he really thought of you.

He didn’t mean it. Not any of it.

The truth was, you weren’t reckless. You weren’t immature. You were brave in a way he couldn’t comprehend, willing to take risks for what you wanted, for what you believed in. And Spencer admired you for it, even if he couldn’t admit it aloud.

But admiration wasn’t enough to protect you.

That was what haunted him the most. He had been terrified—not of you, but of what your relationship meant, of the potential fallout, the consequences that could ruin both your lives. He thought pushing you away was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. But now, sitting alone in the empty apartment, all he felt was loss.

Spencer’s throat tightened as he leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to call you, to apologize, to take it all back. But the rational part of him held him back. You were right to leave, he thought bitterly. I’m no good for you.

Still, the thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your laugh or feeling the warmth of your touch, was unbearable.

The apartment felt colder, emptier, without you in it. Spencer closed his eyes, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he had said and everything he hadn’t.

And for the first time in a long while, he felt utterly, devastatingly alone.

You got me red, white, and blue

Pledging my allegiance to you

Tell me you believe in me too

#missarchive #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #bau x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

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th3mrskory · 2 days ago

Text

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: fem!Reader x Old Man!Logan

Warning: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,explicit language, coercion (if you squint), oral (male/female receiving), handjob, fingering, unprotected p in v, missionary, doggy style, anal play, creampie.

Summary: Y/N is always the one taking care of everyone, but tonight Logan decides it’s her turn to let go. Rough, tender, and unapologetically intense, he’ll make sure she doesn’t forget who’s in charge—or how good it feels to be taken care of for once.

Word count: 5.6k

A/N: As @coocoocachewgotscrewed so brilliantly put it, 'As the girl that takes care of everyone: SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF ME.' And that’s how this little fic came to life.

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The world had never been kind to her softness. In her youth, she'd learned early that the only way to survive was to take up space, to become a force others couldn't ignore, even if they didn't understand it. She had built walls from the ground up, stone by stone until they formed a fortress no one could breach. She had everything together—mostly. She had to. People depended on her and needed her strength to carry them through the chaos of life, so she did. She carried it all. Always.

But there were moments—quiet moments, when the world was still—when the weight of it all pressed against her chest, relentless. The loneliness in her veins. The unspoken ache buried deep within her ribs.

She never asked for help. She didn't need it. Her hands were too used to giving. And when she laughed, when she made jokes about being single—"Men want to be babied. I don't have time to raise a child."—it was easier to mask the truth. It was easier to hide the hunger that lingered beneath her words. The hunger for something she couldn't name, something too soft to fit into the life she'd built.

It was supposed to be just another day, another task, another moment in the long string of motions she went through without thought. But then she saw him—Logan, standing there with that quiet, raw strength of his. The way he didn't try to impress anyone, didn't need to, because the power in him was as much in his silence as it was in his actions. There was no pretense. No façade.

And she hated that it drew her in.

She hated how much she wanted him—him, the one man who wouldn't cower in her presence, the one who wouldn't need her to be anything other than exactly what she was.

She noticed him more these days, more than she cared to admit. She tried to bury the thoughts, to ignore the way her heart would quicken whenever he was near, the way her body seemed to ache for something it didn't know how to name.

Logan saw it, though. He always did. The way she wore that strength-like armor. But he'd spent enough time with it to know what armor looked like—he knew what it meant to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and never let anyone see how heavy it was.

He didn't pity her. Hell, he admired her more than anyone he'd ever known. But he saw the cracks. The storm churned behind her eyes. The way she pulled away just when things might have gotten too real, too close.

She never let anyone in.

But he wasn't afraid of it. Not of her. Not of that ferocity.

And so, on that night, after a thousand little things had piled up until there was no room left for her to breathe, it came out.

Her words were sharp, and cutting, but they were the truth. The raw, jagged truth that she never allowed to be spoken. She was tired of pretending. Tired of holding the world together when no one saw her crumble beneath it.

"What, you think I don't need help? You think I like doing everything myself?" Her voice trembled only slightly, a crack in the fortress that she had so carefully built.

He didn't flinch. Didn't back away. He'd seen that wall before, and he didn't fear it.

He only stepped closer, his presence as solid as the ground beneath them.

"I think you're too damn stubborn to ask for it," he said, his voice low, but the understanding in it was enough to make her heart catch in her throat.

For a moment, the world paused. The storm inside her stilled, and she saw it—really saw it for the first time. He wasn't afraid of her strength. He didn't want to tear it down. He just wanted to be there, beside her, when it all became too much to bear.

He didn't need to fix her. He didn't need to save her.

He just needed to let her be.

Let her lean into him. Let her rest.

Her breath caught as she stepped toward him, her hands trembling, unsure but desperate. For once, she wasn't the one giving. For once, she could be held, could be taken care of.

Logan's hands were steady, as they always were, but now, they weren't just offering strength. They were offering safety—something she hadn't realized she'd been searching for all along.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low, soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. You're allowed to let it out."

The words broke something inside her. Heat prickled behind her eyes, and her chest heaved with the weight of everything she'd kept buried.

Logan didn't move. He didn't push. He just let her cry, his hand resting firm and comforting on her back, his presence solid as the ground beneath her.

"Y/N..." His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn't quite place. Gently, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears with a tenderness that made her knees weak.

"You don't have to carry it all, bub. Let me in, just this once."

Her hands shook as she pressed them to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Grounding her. And when she rubbed her cheek against his palm, the motion instinctive, something inside her gave way.

Her eyes fell to his lips. The urge to kiss him became impossible to ignore.

He leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead, but then he paused, his gaze locking with hers.

She couldn't stop herself. She leaned in, kissing him hard, desperate for the release, the comfort, the closeness. It was a kiss that broke everything wide open—a kiss that held the weight of everything they'd both been holding back.

The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to the warmth of his lips and the solid strength of his hands still cradling her face. She felt the tension in her chest unravel, replaced by a need that clawed at her, desperate and all-consuming.

Logan didn't rush. He never did. His hands slid down, slow and deliberate, tracing over her arms until his fingers wrapped around her wrists. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his breath hot against her lips.

"No walls. No fightin'. Just let me.", he murmured, his voice gravelly and sure, sending a shiver down her spine. The words hit her like a hammer, shattering the last of her defenses. She wasn't used to this, wasn't used to handing over the reins, but with Logan, it felt...safe. Right.

Her pulse thundered as she nodded, the tiniest of movements, but it was enough for him.

Logan's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile before he kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands guiding hers up and over her head. Her fingers curled instinctively as he pinned her wrists against the wall behind her, the roughness of the surface contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.

"Just let me make you feel good," he said, his voice low and commanding. She exhaled shakily, her head tilting back as his mouth moved to her neck, teeth scraping lightly against her skin before his tongue soothed the spot. Her body arched into him, her hips pressing forward, seeking more, needing more.

"Logan..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, a plea wrapped in the sound of his name.

He hummed against her throat, one hand still holding her wrists in place while the other traveled down her side, his fingers skimming over the curve of her hip. "That's it," he rumbled. "Let me hear you."

Each touch, each kiss, stripped away the layers she'd built to protect herself. She wasn't in control anymore—not of her body, not of her mind, not of the way she melted beneath him. And for once, she didn't care.

Logan moved with a precision that left her breathless, his hand slipping beneath her shirt, rough fingertips tracing the softness of her skin. He paused just below her ribs, his eyes flicking up to hers.

"Say it, darlin'," he coaxed. "Say you'll let me have you."

Her lips parted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I'm yours."

And that was all it took.

His hands, calloused and strong, gripped her thighs, hoisting her up with an ease that sent a shiver racing down her spine. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders as her body pressed tightly against his.

"Where's your bedroom?" he growled against her ear, his voice low, gravelly, and filled with the kind of raw command that made her knees weak, though she wasn't even standing.

"End of the hall," she whispered, the words trembling out of her as his teeth grazed her earlobe, a low hum rumbling deep in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmured, the praise almost too rough to feel soft, and yet it sent heat pooling low in her stomach.

He moved through her place with purposeful strides, each step a reminder of the strength coiled in his body. She felt the steady rhythm of his breathing against her chest, the way his arms tightened around her as if he dared anything or anyone to take her from him.

When they reached her bedroom, Logan kicked the door open without hesitation, the force behind it making it swing back against the wall. The dim light from the hallway framed his silhouette—broad shoulders, wild hair, and eyes that burned as he looked down at her.

The room felt smaller with him in it, his presence overwhelming, and consuming. He didn't glance around, didn't make a single remark. His focus was entirely on her as if the world beyond her didn't exist.

"On the bed," he rasped, his voice cutting through the thick silence.

Before she could even process his words, he was lowering her onto the mattress, her back meeting the cool sheets as his hands lingered, pressing her down as he needed her to stay right where she was.

"Logan—"

"Quiet." The single word was sharp and commanding, and it sent a jolt of heat through her.

His eyes roved over her, dark and smoldering, drinking her in as though he was committing every inch of her to memory. One knee pressed into the mattress beside her, his weight shifting as he leaned closer, his hands bracketing her head.

"Spent your whole damn life holdin' everything together," he muttered his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "Not tonight. Tonight, you're mine."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out, just a sharp intake of breath as he tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I'm not askin', darlin'." His voice dropped to a growl, sending a shudder down her spine.

Her heart thundered in her chest as his lips claimed hers again, rough and unrelenting, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip just enough to make her gasp. The sound made his grip tighten, his hands sliding down her sides slowly as if savoring the way her body responded to him.

"You don't have to be strong tonight," he murmured against her lips, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "Let me carry it. Let me carry you."

Her resolve cracked beneath the weight of his words, her body trembling as her hands found his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt. For once, she didn't fight. She didn't resist.

She just let go.

Logan's eyes never left hers as he straightened, standing tall above her. His hands were steady as he reached for the hem of her shirt. The air between them felt charged, and heavy, like the moment before a storm.

"Arms up," he commanded, his voice low and rough, leaving no room for hesitation.

She obeyed without a word, raising her arms as he gripped the fabric, his knuckles brushing against her sides. He pulled the shirt up slowly, dragging the material over her skin with a sensuality that made her shiver. The shirt caught for a moment, tangled in her hair, and Logan let out a low chuckle, dark and throaty.

"Relax," he muttered, his voice softer now as he freed her, his fingers lingering against her temple, brushing stray strands away from her face.

The shirt dropped to the floor with a quiet rustle, forgotten the second it left his hand. His gaze roamed over her now-bare skin, unhurried and scorching, like he wanted to memorize every curve, every scar, every inch of her that she'd never let anyone else see.

"You're beautiful," he said, the words rough and quiet as if they weren't meant for her to hear, but they landed with the force of a confession.

Her cheeks burned under his scrutiny, but there was no hiding from him. He stepped closer, his hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers brushed her skin, calloused and warm, and she bit back a gasp as he popped the button with ease.

"Look at me," he ordered, his tone low but firm.

Her eyes met his, and the intensity in his gaze made her breath hitch. He was utterly focused as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world. Slowly, he slid the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room.

"Lift your hips," he murmured, his hands curling around the waistband, tugging the denim down with maddening slowness.

She shifted, doing as he asked, and he peeled the jeans away, dragging them down her legs. His fingers brushed her calves, and her ankles before the fabric joined her shirt on the floor. The air felt colder now, her skin hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch.

Logan's eyes raked over her, his expression dark and unreadable. Then he reached out, his hands gripping her ankles, his thumbs running along the delicate bone there. He tugged her toward him, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a strength that made her stomach flip.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he growled, his voice ragged, laced with something almost feral.

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his fingers hooking into the thin straps of her bra, sliding them off her shoulders with an aching slowness. The straps fell away, his knuckles grazing her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"You don't need this," he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of her collarbone as he reached behind her, unhooking the clasp with a practiced ease.

The bra slipped from her body, and Logan let it fall without a glance, his hands already returning to her, tracing a path down her sides. His palms were warm, rough in the best way, and they left trails of fire wherever they touched.

"Every inch of you," he whispered, his lips ghosting over her skin as his hands slid lower. "Mine."

Her breath hitched, her body arching toward him instinctively, surrendering completely to his touch.

Logan's hands paused at her hips, his fingers slipping under the thin elastic of her panties. His gaze flicked up to hers, holding her there with an intensity that made her pulse thunder in her ears.

She nodded, her voice failing her, but it didn't matter. Logan saw everything he needed in her eyes.

With one smooth motion, he slid the last barrier from her body, baring her completely to him. He stood there for a moment, his gaze raking over her with a hunger that made her shiver.

"Perfect," he muttered, more to himself than to her, before leaning down, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Now let me show you what it means to let go."

Logan knelt between her legs, his hands on her knees, gently parting them as he moved with calm, deliberate intent. She froze for a second, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as she realized she hadn't shaved. Her gaze quickly flicked away, her cheeks flushing with the sudden vulnerability she felt.

But Logan noticed. He looked at her with a reassuring, almost amused smirk, his eyes flickering down her body before meeting hers again.

"Don't," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a thumb along her inner thigh. "I like it just like this."

Her breath hitched at his words, the tension in her body slowly melting under his touch.

He lowered himself slowly, nuzzling his face against her inner thighs, placing soft, teasing kisses along their expanse. His right hand moved to her center, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her sensitive bud. His middle and ring fingers slid over her hole, collecting her wetness, and spreading it across her labia.

"She's drooling for me," he murmured as his fingers slowly began to push inside, allowing her to adjust to the stretch. He kept his gaze fixed on her face, watching her pleasure as his fingers began to pump in and out, each movement deliberate and slow.

His fingers continued their rhythmic motion, working in tandem with his mouth. He moved his tongue over her clit, the tip flicking over the sensitive skin in a slow, teasing rhythm that made her body arch toward him. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, desperately trying to hold onto something as the heat of his touch seared into her.

"Logan... please," she gasped, her voice trembling, her hips pressing closer to his face.

Logan didn't stop. His tongue flicked faster now, tracing every curve, every inch of her, his mouth drinking in her arousal. She couldn't stop herself anymore; her back arched as her body responded to him, the tension building within her like a wave. "So good," she moaned, her voice breathy and desperate.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Logan murmured against her skin, his voice rough, thick with desire. He paused for a moment, lifting his head to look up at her. "I can feel you shaking. Let go."

She shuddered under his gaze, the command in his voice stripping away the last of her resistance. Her body wanted to obey, to give herself over completely to the sensations he was creating. "I can't... I need you, Logan," she pleaded, tangling her fingers in his hair, urging him back to her, wordlessly begging for more.

Logan smirked, his hands sliding down her sides, gripping her hips tightly as he pulled her closer to his mouth, continuing the rhythm with even more force, more hunger. Every lick, every flick of his tongue brought her closer to the edge.

He could feel the way her body tightened, the way her breath quickened. And then, without warning, his mouth pressed harder against her clit, his tongue moving with desperate speed as he drove her to the brink. She moaned loudly, her body shuddering as she reached the edge. "Logan... oh god," she cried out, completely surrendering to the pleasure.

As she caught her breath, her body still humming with the lingering sensation of his touch, a quiet yearning stirred within her. She sat up, her eyes locking onto his as she gently took his hand. Without a word, she brought his fingers to her lips, her eyes never leaving his. She traced them with her tongue, sucking them clean, savoring the taste of her arousal, before pulling back just a little.

"Dirty girl…" he said, his left hand cupping her cheek.

"I could be sucking something else", she said seductively.

He looked at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "You don't have to," he murmured, his voice low, steady.

"I want to. Please."

Logan stood up slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers. There was an intensity in his gaze, an unspoken challenge, and a silent invitation all at once.

She positioned herself on her knees before him. Her movements were deliberate, almost hypnotic, as her hands traced the strong lines of his shoulders, sliding down his chest, and over the hard muscles of his belly.

When her fingers reached his belt, she didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, she unbuckled it, the leather slipping free with an audible click before it fell to the floor. Her hands moved quickly to the button of his dress pants, flicking it open, and she slowly lowered the zipper.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his waistband. Her fingers, delicate yet determined, began to unbutton the shirt, one button at a time. Her gaze never left him, and the way her hands worked with such slow precision sent a wave of heat through his chest. The act was intimate, each button a whispered invitation.

Once the shirt was undone, she moved to the cuffs, gently opening them before pressing a soft kiss to the back of each of his hands. Logan closed his eyes briefly at the touch, the tenderness of it catching him off guard. His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek, the touch affectionate, reverent.

There was something magnetic about the way she undressed him—each movement slow and filled with purpose. Her eyes held a quiet hunger that mirrored his own, a silent language between them that made his pulse quicken.

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. She didn't waste a moment, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs in one smooth, fluid motion, letting them drop to the floor as he stepped out of the garment.

He stood there, bare in front of her. His body was exposed, but it wasn't the nudity that left him feeling vulnerable. It was the way his body didn't respond like it once had, the slow burn of frustration creeping in.

But that did not deter her. She braced herself on all fours, the movement full of quiet confidence. Leaning in, she began licking and gently sucking at his balls, the heat of her mouth sending a shiver through him. His breath hitched as her right hand took hold of his semi-hard dick, her touch light but teasing, coaxing him to respond. The softness of her lips, the pressure of her hand, stirred something deep inside him, and he could feel himself slowly hardening.

She licked a long stripe from his balls up to his tip, her mouth hot against his skin. The sudden surge of sensation had him grunting low, his hands instinctively finding their way into her hair, fingers curling into her locks as he pulled her closer.

"Fuck," Logan breathed, his voice low and rough, as his grip tightened on her hair, pulling her in deeper, the feeling of her mouth sending waves of heat through him. "Don't stop," he muttered.

Y/N could feel him growing heavier and thick in her mouth. She released his dick with a loud pop and with both hands began pumping it.

At the sight Logan closed his eyes and let his head fall back, the hold on her hair tightening. She took him in her mouth and, hollowing her cheeks, began taking him deeper.

She gagged around him when her nose reached the grey hairs on the base and pulled back coughing, a string of saliva connecting her to his member.

Y/N looked up and smiled mischievously seeing him fully erect.

Logan pushed her onto the bed, his hands firmly pinning her wrists to the mattress as he hovered over her. His eyes locked onto hers.

"You're trouble," he finally muttered, his voice deep and rough.

She smirked, but there was a glint of challenge in her eyes. "You don't seem to mind," she teased, her breath hitching as his gaze darkened with hunger.

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. Without warning, he moved, pinning her down more securely. "No, I don't," he growled, his voice low as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips over her neck.

Her breath quickened as she felt the weight of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and despite herself, she arched up, meeting the intensity of his gaze. He was in control now, his hands steady as he guided her into place.

He took a breath, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "You're going to beg for it," he whispered. His tone was rough, yet there was a subtle edge of something softer, almost possessive. "And I'll make sure you don't forget who's in charge."

She bit her lip, anticipating what he would do next.

Logan smiled darkly and kissed her again, his right hand traveling down her chest and grabbing her right breast, giving it a harsh squeeze.

He positioned himself between her legs, gripping his member at the base as he ran his tip along her sensitive center, teasing her with deliberate strokes from her clit to her entrance. Each motion made her hips twitch, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

Her moans filled the room, "Logan," she said breathlessly.

"Yes?"

She closed her legs around him pulling him closer. Logan laughed at her antics. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned back slightly, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it fall onto her, aiding his movement.

Her moans became desperate, almost broken, her hands clutching at his forearms. "Logan," she whimpered, her voice raw with need. "Please… I need you."

His smirk deepened as he held her gaze, the intensity in his eyes making her squirm beneath him. "I told you, you'd beg" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Her chest heaved, her lips trembling with the words she couldn't seem to stop. "I'm yours, Logan. Please…"

One large hand moved to her throat, his palm pressing gently against her skin, holding her in place. His thumb traced the line of her jaw as his other hand gripped her thigh, pulling her even closer. "Mine," he growled, his tone possessive, claiming.

The pressure at her throat made her head swim, a strange mix of restraint and trust that sent a bolt of heat through her. She arched into his hold, her body surrendering completely.

"You like this, don't you?" he rasped, his lips brushing against hers but not quite touching. His voice was low and commanding, but there was a glint of something softer beneath it, a promise just out of reach.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a shaky moan, her hands clutching at his wrist. "Yes," she whispered, desperate and trembling.

His mouth curved into a wicked smirk as his hand shifted, loosening his hold just enough for her to feel the contrast. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, dragging his thumb along the curve of her jaw.

The words lingered in the air, heavy with intent but unspoken in full. His free hand slid down her body, fingers tracing her curves with a deliberateness that made her skin tingle.

She whimpered, her body responding to every calculated movement. "Logan..."

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear. "Stop thinking. Just feel," he whispered, the edge of his voice rough yet grounding. "That's all I want from you tonight."

He shifted between her legs, his hands gripping her hips, lifting her with ease as he positioned himself. The heat of his body pressed against hers, and her heart thudded in her chest, anticipation coiling tightly in her core.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper.

She nodded, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his member pressing against her entrance. With a slow, fluid motion, he eased himself inside, feeling the resistance of her body disappearing.

Y/N threw her head back, a low moan slipping from her lips as her body adjusted to his length, "Fuck," she breathed, unable to hide the raw need in her voice.

She bit her lip at the feeling of him twitching inside of her. Logan leaned forward, his tongue sliding down the side of her neck. He then moved to her breasts, attaching his mouth to one of her nipples and sucking. He released her nipple.

"Breathe," he whispered, his hand sliding up to rest on her waist, grounding her. "I've got you."

He straightened up, his body towering over hers, and braced his hand on the headboard as he drew his hips back, the feel of his withdrawal sending a shiver through her. She barely had time to adjust before he slammed back into her.

She was trembling beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to keep up with the brutal rhythm he set. Every time he pulled out, every time he pushed back in, the pressure inside her built, and she couldn't help but whimper.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts turning faster, more brutal, as he pushed into her with a hunger that matched the fire in her veins. Her hips moved to meet him, desperate for more, and he responded with a growl of approval, his hands tightening on her hips to anchor her in place as his rhythm grew harder, more punishing.

"Fuck Y/N."

She smiled at him.

"You like that, don't you?" Logan's voice was rough, and dark, as he pulled back slightly, only to push in even harder.

She couldn't stop herself from moaning, the sharpness of the sensation hitting her in waves.

"That's right," Logan growled, his grip on her hips like iron as he rocked into her with force.

Her body responded without thought, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, faster as if she couldn't get enough. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, mixing with the desperate gasps coming from her lips.

Without warning, he shifted his position, his hands leaving her hips for a moment, only to slip under her and lift her body, pulling her into a new angle. She gasped, the sudden shift throwing her off balance, but Logan's grip on her was firm, and controlling, as he guided her back onto him.

Her back arched instinctively, the new position deepening their connection, and she moaned, her hands reaching for the headboard to brace herself. Logan's thrusts grew slower but deeper, more deliberate now, aimed to bring her right to the brink.

Logan's hand came down hard on her left asscheek jolting Y/N forward.

"Logan…" she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

He could hear it—the desperation in her voice, the way her body was bucking against his. He watched her face, her eyes closed tight, her lips parted in a silent plea for release. He wanted to hear her, wanted to feel her break under him.

He gave one last hard, deep thrust, then paused, letting the sensation build before pulling back almost completely. She whimpered, the loss of movement driving her crazy, and before she could protest, he repositioned again, this time bending her further back, his hands now holding her shoulders down as he ran his member between her asscheeks.

Her breath hitched as she looked back at him, over her shoulder, her eyes filled with raw desire.

Logan didn't wait any longer. He positioned himself behind her, his hands firmly gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly at first, savoring the tight, intense heat that engulfed him. The change in angle sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, and she moaned, her hands clutching at the sheets in desperation.

"Fuck," Logan muttered, his voice low and full of grit as he began to move, his thrusts quick and forceful, each one pushing her further into the bed.

She gasped with each hard thrust, the pleasure taking over her senses, her body rocking in time with his. The deeper connection from this position sent waves of bliss coursing through her, and she pressed back into him, her hips meeting his with every thrust.

"Does this feel better?" Logan growled, his hands tightening on her hips, guiding her with raw intensity.

She could barely manage a breathless, "Yes, harder…"

His thrusts grew harder, faster, and relentless, pushing her toward the edge.

She couldn't hold back anymore, "Logan …I'm gonna…"

His strokes grew sloppier as he grabbed her neck, angling her face so he could kiss her.

Y/N's moans filled the room. The mixture of his hard thrusts and the slap of his balls on her ass pushed her over the edge as she began shaking.

Y/N fell forward, her face on the bed and her ass in the air. Logan didn't stop. His hands opened her asscheeks as he watched his thick, veiny member going in and out of her hole, creating a creamy ring at the base of his member.

The new angle allowed Logan to continuously hit her cervix. "Be a good girl, come on my dick."

Her hands fisted the sheets and Logan, with his thumb began circling her other hole. The new stimulation tipped Y/N over the edge as she came hard on his member.

Logan didn't stop. Didn't even slow down as he followed her, his movements like a force of nature, unyielding, as he pushed her through the waves of pleasure, every last inch of her shaking with the force of it.

Her mouth fell open as she felt him stilling and his release spilling inside of her.

"Fuck!", he said, throwing his head back.

He remained still for a moment but then pulled out when he felt his member softening. He sat on his knees admiring their joint releases dripping out of her spent hole.

"Jesus, that's a fucking sight.", his index finger reached collecting the release and pushing it back.

Y/N moaned and fell on her stomach. He removed his fingers and lay next to her.

"Did it help?", he asked playfully.

"Shut up Logan."

______________________________________________________________

398 notes · View notes

onlymingyus · 1 day ago

Text

Deny

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader x jake sim (enhypen)

genre; smut (minor dni), mild angst, toxic themes, fluff, comedy

summary; When your boyfriend's stepbrother spends the summer with you things get a lot more interesting for you and a lot more complicated for him.

content warnings; reader is around the same age as mingyu, jake is younger, college au, stepsibling au, poly themes, "cheating" themes, teasing -- eating/drinking, alcohol, sunghoon/heeseung side characters, other cameos mentioned.

smut warnings; Dom!mingyu, sub!reader, sub!jake, mild stepcest, some mild mlm, semi-protected sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, pet play (names and degradation), fingering, oral (m & f receiving/giving), masturbation, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, purposeful exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, impact play, cum eating, praise/degradation, pet names/degrading names, dumbification, panty fetish, sub/Dom themes -- patreon bonus has it's own warnings

w/c; 27.1k and some change (34k ~ patreon)

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and as always giving me the courage to finish something when i feel like it's going to crash and burn. this one is a lot and i didn't mean for it to be as long as it is. it's very dirty and heavy on kinks. if this isn't for you, i completely understand. i just let myself enjoy writing and getting into a story, but i do hope if you read you enjoy it!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Baby… He's lived in a fucking dorm room for half a year. He’s not gonna give a shit if his pillows are fluffed.”

Making a face as you mock Mingyu’s words, you continue what you were doing. You didn’t care what his stepbrother Jake was used to. You were only concerned with what he was going to get while he was staying with you and Mingyu for the summer. “Gyu, can you please put extra towels in the spare bathroom like I asked?”

Scoffing, Mingyu leans his head back and nods before turning out of the room to do as he is told. He loved you and he had a deep respect for his family; that was the only reason he was willing to deal with this shit. Getting a place with you—that was a simple decision—but you turned into hostess of the year when someone came to visit and it was even worse when you found out the guest was staying long-term. To Mingyu, the guest in question didn’t need the red carpet laid out for him—it was just his little brother; more than that, he wasn’t even that close with Jake.

Mingyu's mother and Jake’s father had met when Mingyu was in his first year of college; Jake had been in high school so there had never really been that time to connect. It wasn’t that Mingyu didn’t want to see Jake as his brother, but it was just easier to be his friend. You, on the other hand, had been in Mingyu’s life almost as long as Jake had. You had always adored Mingyu’s stepbrother. It was all too easy for you to harbor a soft spot for the awkward teenager who seemed to have a small crush on you.

“He’s not even getting here until later this evening…”

You could still hear Mingyu sulking from across the hall as he folded towels and placed them in the cabinet. This was going to be an adjustment for everyone, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit excited about it all. You had finally gotten the house exactly how you wanted it and now you were going to have one more person to share it with. On top of that, you hoped that Mingyu and Jake might bond a bit over the summer before he would head back to his dorm and back to barely answering texts or calls.

“Well, when he does get here, I’m sure he’s going to appreciate the towels and the comfy bed.” Sliding your hands around Mingyu’s waist, you smile against his back, feeling him take in a deep breath at your touch. “Thank you for letting him stay.”

Sighing, Mingyu turns in your arms to slide his hands along your hips, taking a step towards you. "Well, he’s my family, so I don’t know why you are thanking me.” Watching your lips pull up into a smile as he leads you back towards the sink, Mingyu narrows his eyes, letting his fingers tighten on your hips over your leggings. “He’s not a kid anymore, Y/N, so don’t treat this like I’m giving you a doll to play with. I know that look.”

“Gyu, I’m not! I know he’s not a kid.” Pouting into your words, you furrow your brows when Mingyu lifts you from the ground, placing you on the countertop next to the sink. “I never treated him like—”

"Oh, I know exactly how you treated him. You babied the hell out of him.” Settling between your thighs, Mingyu reaches up with one hand to brush his fingers along your neck, letting you lean into his touch. “I’m not upset at you, honey. I’m just sayin’, he’s 22 years old.”

“You were still a baby at 22.” Shrugging, you smile into your words, making Mingyu narrow his eyes playfully at you. Fingers grip your thigh tightly as he sighs your name, brushing his lips against yours before pulling away, daring you to chase him.

“Yeah? It’s only 6 am, baby... I got two hours before I have to be at work. How about I show you how much I’ve grown up, huh?”

Squealing in delight, you cling to your boyfriend’s shirt as he lifts you once again, this time putting you over his shoulder so that you feel the blood rush to your head with each one of his large steps towards the bedroom. “Ming—Ah! Gyu!” The sting of Mingyu’s hand coming down hard on your ass has you kicking your legs under his strong grip before he uses the back of his heel to kick the door shut.

Resting the phone between his shoulder and his ear, Jake wrinkles his nose, doing his best to balance the bag on his arm and put in the door code he was given. “Nah, man… They both work until like 6 or something. Mingyu told me they’d bring home food at least.”

“You got it fuckin’ made, that’s all I’m saying.” Wiping down another table, Sunghoon swipes the cash left under a plate and pockets the tip before sighing loudly. “You don’t gotta be at your folks place; you aren’t spending your money, and you get to see Y/N.”

Glancing around as he kicks his shoes off next to the door, Jake drops his duffle bag and furrows his brows. “Yeah, whatever. I—I haven’t seen Mingyu in a year and Y/N…” Your name made Jake feel like his mouth was dry. It was stupid that he still had some ridiculous crush on his stepbrother’s girlfriend, but you had been like a sexual awakening for Jake. “I haven’t seen her in forever. She didn’t come to the house the last time he did, so it’s whatever. I gotta go. Gonna figure out this place and put my shit away.”

Sunghoon wasn’t an idiot; he knew that Jake still had a thing for you. No matter how many times Jake tried to date or even just get his dick wet for a night—they weren’t living up to the legend that was Y/N. “Yeah, sure. Let me know how it goes later. I wanna know how fuckin’ hot Y/N is now.”

That was enough to get Jake to hang up the phone. It wasn’t the first time that he had hung up on his best friend and it wouldn’t be the last. Shoving the phone into his jacket pocket, Jake picks his duffle bag back up and purses his lips before slowly making his way through the house. It was nice—nicer than what he would figure his stepbrother would be living in, but then again, you were living with him now and it was so obvious. It smelled good, like candles and perfume. There wasn’t shit laying around everywhere, but Mingyu had never been one to be messy either.

Finally moving up the stairs, Jake glances to the right down the hall and then the left. Mingyu had told him that he was to the right and that his bathroom was across the hall. If that was where he was staying then—curiosity often killed the cat. Adjusting the bag on his arm, Jake glanced back down the stairs before taking a left and slowly opening the first door he came to, only to be hit with a strong wave of the perfume he had picked up on downstairs.

The bedroom was a bit less neat than the rest of the house, as if you and Mingyu had been in a rush this morning—probably his fault Jake realizes as he looks around a picture catching his eye. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen pictures of you and Mingyu recently; he followed you both on Instagram and his stepbrother was addicted to attention, but there was something about this one and it being on the bedside table. You were gorgeous and Jake could feel the lump in his throat getting stuck as his eyes followed the way Mingyu’s arms protectively wrapped around you. He understood why... if you were his, he’d probably act the same fucking way.

Closing the door behind him, Jake shakes his head to clear it before finally moving back down the hall and opening the doors that would belong to him for the entirety of the summer. He hadn’t expected much, just a bed and a shower, but what he found was so much more. There was no way that Mingyu had gone through all this effort to make his room look this comfortable and to stock his bathroom with this much stuff; no, this had to be your doing.

Laying his bag on the bed, Jake runs his hand over the comforter and then pushes down on the pillow, feeling how it springs back up under his palm. This was nicer than his bed at home and a hundred times nicer than his dorm; he was already feeling spoiled. With one glance across the hall, Jake couldn’t help the way his lips pulled up into a smile before he tugged some shorts and a t-shirt from his bag and sighed in relief at the idea of a comfortable shower.

You weren’t exactly sure what you expected when you got home. Mingyu was bound and determined that you were not going to change your routine just because Jake was staying with you and him, but you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous as soon as you stepped through the door and saw the extra pair of shoes. Taking a deep breath, you shake out your hands and nod once before dropping off your purse like you always do and jogging up the steps, only stopping long enough to glance towards Jake’s room, seeing the door closed.

Another thing you had promised to do was not to crowd him or make him feel like anything was expected of him. If he wanted to hang out with you and Mingyu, he was welcomed to, but neither of you would force it—but as you looked at his closed door, you couldn’t help but think of the sweet boy that you had last seen before he started college. Swallowing hard, you press your lips together and work up a bit of confidence before letting out a breath as you turn towards your bedroom. “Hi, Jake! I’m home.”

Glancing up from his laptop as he hears your voice, Jake’s eyes widen when you say his name. He has to instantly fight the urge to slide off the bed and go find you, but that wouldn’t be very chill of him and Jake Sim was a chill guy—at least that was what he was reminding himself as he steadied his breath and stared at the video on his laptop screen. “I—ok!”

You’d take it. That was better than nothing; at least you knew he was alive behind the door. Mingyu said he wasn’t your doll, that he wasn’t a child you were taking care of, but right now he could have fooled you into thinking he was the same kid that you knew back when you first got together with Mingyu. “‘Kay…cool. Gyu will be home in like an hour; he’s bringing home some dinner. I’m gonna shower and then watch something downstairs.”

What did you want him to say? What was Jake supposed to reply to after learning that information? He already knew that his brother was picking up food, but learning that you were going to shower and watch television—did you want him to watch something with you? By the time that Jake decides that maybe that’s what you were hinting at, it’s been long enough that he’s heard the water turn on and then turn off; your shower finished before he is on his feet and pacing at his door and opening it, trying to keep his mouth closed.

Fuck. Holy shit. No picture could do you justice. Especially not when you were standing in the hall in short cotton shorts that barely peeked out from under what was probably one of Mingyu’s shirts as you ran a towel over your head to dry off.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you hum in surprise and out of happiness that Jake decided to come out of his room, but it’s short lived when you see him for the first time. What happened to the awkward, almost geeky-looking kid that you knew? This wasn’t that kid; he had been replaced by someone who had grown into his features and his looks seemingly overnight—Mingyu had been right, he wasn’t a kid anymore. “Oh… Hi—hey Jake. How was the bus here?”

Taking a breath to get over your nerves, in an attempt to push past the shock of seeing Jake all grown up, you toss the used towel into the hamper and flash him a sweet smile before heading towards the stairs, not waiting for him to answer you. It was better than staring at him like an idiot and you could hear him following behind you down the stairs, his accent a bit thicker as he swallows hard, letting his eyes travel along your backside.

“It was alright. Uh, thanks—thanks for letting me stay here and for all the stuff in my room.” There was more that Jake wanted to say but as he worked his eyes back up your legs, moving into the living room, you turned to sit on the couch and he had just made it back to your stomach before looking away quickly.

“No biggie. I wanted you to be comfortable while you were here with us.” You pull your legs under you as you reach for the remote on the coffee table. Tilting your head, you watch Jake stand awkwardly between the living room and the kitchen as you pat the couch beside you. “You can sit. Here, or if you want the recliner. Your brother loves the reclin—”

“Here’s good, Y/N... Thanks.” Plopping on to the other side of the couch, Jake holds his phone tightly in his palm as you study him for a long moment before finally looking towards the television and scrolling through apps. When you finally settle on a show, Jake lets out a breath and relaxes into the cushions, biting at his bottom lip as he scrolls through his phone, seemingly not paying attention to the television in front of him.

Jake: I’m not gonna make it dude. SOS

Hoon: What’s up?

Clearing his throat, Jake glances at you from the corner of his eye as he shifts on the couch so that he can rest in the corner to get more comfortable. Watching you over his phone, he carefully takes a picture of you letting out a breath before switching his phone back over to his messages, sending the picture to Sunghoon and waiting for his reaction.

Hoon: Nothing can be done. RIP

Hoon: Where's Mingyu?

Jake: Not home yet. She wanted me to watch something with her. He’s gonna kill me right? Seeing her dressed like that with me here

Hoon: In the ground, 6 fuckin feet

Jake: Worth it… 🥵

Pushing the door closed, Mingyu leans his head towards the sound of the television as he balances the takeout bags in one hand and his work bag in the other. Normally you’d be at the door saying hello to him but maybe you just hadn’t heard him come in? “Baby?”

Jake watches, a small disappointed breath slipping from between his lips when you jump up from the couch so fast for his brother. Of course you would; it was stupid for him to think otherwise. You had been with his brother for years; his family was expecting Mingyu to put a ring on your finger at any point now, but that still didn’t make it any less disappointing to watch you whine his name as you moved through the kitchen towards him, leaving Jake behind.

“Hi! Oh my god, the food smells so good, I’m so hungry.” Moving to your toes, you kiss Mingyu before taking the takeout from him. “I missed you.”

Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide the grin on his face when you fawn over him. You acted like his pretty little wife already, even without a ring on your finger. He loved getting a kiss from you when he got home from work and hearing about your day, but today was already different as he followed you into the kitchen after putting his bag with yours in the foyer. Nodding to Jake on the couch, Mingyu’s brow raises as he lets out a soft breath, sliding a hand over your hip. “Hey, Jake. Hungry? I got pasta; it’s Y/N’s favorite.”

It was clear that you and Mingyu, but mostly you, were trying to keep the vibe chill and not let any tension build, but that felt almost impossible. Swallowing hard, Jake runs his fingers through his hair, drawing your attention to the longer length ending at the nape of his neck.

"Uh, yeah, I’m hungry. Pasta is great.” Sliding from the couch, Jake puffs up his cheeks with a deep breath before sitting at the kitchen island while you work to plate some of the pasta for each of you. “How—um, was work okay, Mingyu?” Jake wasn’t great at this, and neither was Mingyu. It wasn’t either of their fault, just a product of their mistimed relationship.

Jake had another brother; he lived with his mother back in Australia. Mingyu’s little sister was his pride and joy, even if he rarely got to see her as she studied abroad. To you, that meant that Jake and Mingyu should have tried to make the most of their situation, but it wasn’t something you’d ever really understand. It was easier for them to talk about sports, music, chicks—nothing deep like real brothers, and that was okay for the most part in both of their opinions.

“It was good. Same shit, different day.” Smirking a bit at his own words, Mingyu sighs when you give him a disappointed glance. He knew what it was about; he wasn’t trying hard enough. “I mean, I—it’s just a lot of office politics and shit, dude. It’d bore the fuck out of you. Tell me about school. How are your friends? How’s the girls?”

That was more like it, and yet at the mention of girls, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Sliding a plate in front of Jake, you almost coo in appreciation when he smiles at you and thanks you under his breath. “‘Course Jakey. Eat up…” Putting a plate in front of Mingyu, you pick up your own fork, trying to keep up with their conversation, even as Jake stumbles over his words hearing you call him the nickname you used to call him before he left for college.

“It’s—ya know, school. It’s okay.” Pushing the fettuccine around on the plate, watching the sauce spread along the ceramic. “I—my friends. They’re good. Sunghoon stayed close for the summer too. He might come by some time if you guys don’t care.”

Before Mingyu can even speak, his mouth full of fettuccine alfredo, you wipe your lips and hum in appreciation. “Of course. It’s your house too, Jakey. As long as you are staying with us, you don’t have to ask things like that, okay?”

That was going to be easier said than done, especially when Mingyu sighs and gives you a long look before faking a smile at Jake. “Yup, what Y/N said.” Taking another bite of pasta, Mingyu sighs out of his nose as he chews, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted. It was almost as if Jake was avoiding things and like he was embarrassed. He had never been embarrassed to talk about girls before. “Glad classes are going well, but that’s not all uni is for. Spill, dude, got a girlfriend we should be worried about you inviting over too?”

Jake had been doing okay with the conversation. You were so sweet,besides being incredibly distracting by just existing. He was able to eat and when he had started to take a big drink of his water, that’s when Mingyu asked him that question. Coughing as he feels the water start to burn his chest, Jake shakes his head and blinks moisture from his eyes as you look at him with concern, while Mingyu just chuckles and leans over to smack him on the back hard.

“Breathe… Jesus christ. You alright? The conversation that difficult to—”

“No! I—no, Mingyu. I don’t have a girl—girlfriend. I wouldn’t invite a chick over here anyway. That’s not—that’d be rude to Y/N, right?” Shaking his head, Jake looks down, avoiding Mingyu’s eyes, but mostly yours as you tilt your head.

“‘Kay, no girls. I’m picking on you, Jake.” Picking up the beer in front of him, Mingyu takes a long sip before clearing his throat and sitting back to watch his stepbrother push his food around a bit more. "But I appreciate you worrying about Y/N and if she’s comfortable with who you might bring around. You know—” Meeting your eyes, Mingyu sits forward, resting his forearms on the countertop, even though he hears you sigh, having a feeling where this is going. “This might be a good time to go over the house rules.”

Jake should have known it wasn’t going to be as easy as just showing up and getting a room. Swallowing hard, he nods before taking another sip of his water, hoping it will calm his growing nerves.

“Cool. First, like Y/N said, you can have guests over; we apparently don’t care, however—”

It sounded a lot like Mingyu cared and it was making Jake wish he could crawl into a hole.

“Just don’t have parties in our house. I know I sound like Mom and your dad, but sorry to be an asshole. You don’t pay the mortgage, and once you do pay one, you’ll get it.”

Leaning your head back briefly, you sigh and slide off your chair, feeling full from not only the food but Mingyu’s bullshit. You loved him completely, but you knew this whole dominance act was coming and it was the one thing he asked for you not to get in the way of. It was taking everything in you not to call him an old man and to tell him it was probably getting close to him for him to take out his dentures and crawl in bed. He treated Jake more like a child than you were.

“Two, I know you have your part-time job. I don’t expect you to pay for anything while you are here, however—”

Oh my god. Jake was literally sinking down in his chair as his stepbrother kept saying however with each rule. Glancing towards you, he says how you were mocking Mingyu and that was the only thing keeping him sane, though it was almost causing him to crack a bit of a smile.

“If there are special things you want to eat, buy them yourself. If you see something with my name on it, or Y/N's, use your brain.” Furrowing his brow at Jake’s shit eating grin starting to spread across his face, Mingyu glances in the direction that his brother keeps looking only to see you mouthing along with him, mocking him. “If you two are done? I’m trying to be the fucking responsible one and lay some foundational rules so this house doesn’t become chaos and my girlfriend and brother seem to think I’m a jo—”

“No! What! No, man. I’m listening. No parties. Get my own snacks. Don’t eat shit with your name on it. See!” Sitting up quickly, Jake slides his hands over his knees and grimaces into his smile as Mingyu stares at him.

You, on the other hand, just laugh and hold up your hands as if you are surrendering. “I’m sorry, baby. Go back to your rules. I’ll leave you and Jake to talk and finish cleaning up.”

Watching you move out of the room with a smirk on your face, Mingyu sighs and shakes his head. “Brat… Anyway, I’m glad at least one of you was listening to me. That brings me to the most important rule, alright?”

Jake had been watching you leave too. He couldn’t help it. You were in those little shorts and they hugged your leg right under your ass cheeks. God, how was Mingyu okay with you wearing them with him around? This was crazy! Hearing Mingyu say his name, Jake blinks and meets his brother’s eyes, nodding along with him.

“Don’t make Y/N clean up after you, got it? She already is trying to baby you. She thinks you’re still a kid.” Waiting to see the acknowledgement in Jake’s eyes, Mingyu nods and sits back in his seat, bringing his beer to his lips and taking the last couple of sips. “If anything, I don’t know, show a little respect and appreciation and help her—us out? I like that you’re here, okay? I really do. I’m just not babysitting. I’m spending time with you.”

The other rules had made sense to Jake, but this last one got to him. He really understood why Mingyu had needed to say it. If the situation were reversed, he probably would have done the same thing. Nodding, Jake slides off his chair and picks up his plate, using his foot to open the trash can so he can slide the last of his pasta into it. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking care of myself, Mingyu. I’m not gonna take advantage of you and Y/N. I’m thankful you all are letting me crash here, alright? Seriously. I know I’m not a kid.”

Watching Jake move to the sink with his plate and glass, Mingyu sighs into a nod, feeling like his words made the impact he wanted them to despite your reaction. “Good, and like I said, happy you are here, man. Looking forward to the uh—what did Y/N call it?”

Glancing over his shoulder as he opens the dishwasher, putting his dishes into it like a puzzle piece, Jake can’t help but smile as Mingyu makes a face recalling your words.

“Our brotherly bonding time over the summer.” Shaking his head, Mingyu finally gets to his feet and starts to take care of his dishes when Jake reaches for them, muttering he’ll do it. “Thanks… You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind. You worked all day and like you said, ‘help out’ and shit.”

Smirking, Mingyu ruffles the top of Jake’s hair and sighs into a long breath, feeling the length of the day weighing on him as the silence of the house starts to set in, knowing you are upstairs. “Alright. I’m heading up. I need a shower and as lame as it is, we turn in kind of early since we get up early.”

Carefully fitting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, Jake snorts out a laugh and pulls his head away from Mingyu’s hand before glancing towards him as he gestures towards the stairs. “It is lame; you sound like our parents... but I get it. I’m pretty tired today anyway. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gyu.”

It had been a long time since Jake had called Mingyu anything other than his name. Hearing the shorted version of his name made Mingyu’s lips pull up into a bit of a smile as he rolled his eyes at the parent comment. “Yeah, night Jake.”

By the time that Jake made it back up to his room, it seemed like everything was pretty quiet. Either Mingyu had taken the quickest shower possible or he had changed his mind. Settling back on his bed, Jake sighs, propping the pillows under his head as he balances his laptop on his stomach, getting ready to press play on the video he had been playing earlier when his brows furrow. He had to be hearing things. There was a linen closet separating your and Mingyu’s room from his but as another moan and the sound of the headboard smacking into the wall reach his ears, Jake knows it’s not his imagination.

Wrapping his hand around your throat, right under your jaw, Mingyu groans low against your lips as you whimper underneath him. He hadn’t taken the time to prep you, but after fucking you this morning, you didn’t need nearly as much help to take his cock as you usually did. “Being so fucking loud, baby.”

You weren’t trying to be. It wasn’t your plan for this to happen but the moment that Mingyu had come upstairs and seen you in just his shirt and your panties laying in the center of the bed, there wasn’t much to be done. You had been a brat downstairs and though you hadn’t meant to rile him up, that was exactly what you had done.

“Such a pretty little slut, aren’t you? Taking my cock so good.” Mingyu grins against your bottom lip as he brings his free hand under your thigh, pushing it up towards your stomach so he can bury himself into you deeper. With one hard thrust, the bed meets the wall hard and Mingyu thinks about the sound for a moment before it leaves his mind at the sound of you sobbing his name. “What, brat? Just a bratty little slut who only listens when she’s stuffed with a cock, right?”

Staring at the ceiling, Jake takes a deep breath, realizing just how much of his stepbrother’s dirty talk he can hear and how each one of your breathy moans goes straight to his cock. It was enough that he looked at you and lusted after you; this was another level. This was so fucking wrong. Jake knew the moment he realized what he was hearing; he should have put his headphones over his ears and tried to forget about it, but then you cried out like you were seeing heaven and Jake wanted to know what you looked like right now.

“Shit—” This wasn’t his fault. Sure, headphones, whatever, but he wasn’t the one who was fucking with a guest right down the hall. Surely both of you realized that he could probably hear... right? God, why did that make Jake’s cock twitch harder in his shorts? Biting his bottom lip, Jake considers for a split second taking his cock out and wrapping his hand around it—giving into temptation—but one loud cry of Mingyu’s name as him putting his headphones tightly over his ears.

Not his. You weren’t his. You’d never be his.

Goddammit, Jake wanted just one fuckin’ chance to make you scream like that.

Closing his eyes tightly, Jake turns his movie up as loud as possible and tries to ignore how hard his cock is and how he can still hear every single time the bed hits the wall.

“Look at this, you brute." Whining at Mingyu, you lift your dress up to your hips to show him the bruise forming on your ass cheek from where he had gripped you so hard the night before.

With a cup of coffee in his hand, Mingyu leans against the counter and smirks at his handiwork, admiring the bruise rather than feeling bad about it. He loved seeing his marks covering your body. He knew there were more, but that one was probably the most tender at the largest for now.

“I—sorry!” Turning around quickly, Jake averts his eyes, seeing you with your hand holding your dress up and your ass exposed to Mingyu. If he had been smarter, he would have stayed quiet and enjoyed the view for a moment longer, but panic had set in.

Mingyu laughs and helps you smooth your dress back over your ass, purposely pressing into the tender area, watching you muffle a whine as you stumble away from him and towards the fridge. “No harm done, Jake. Why are you up so early? Work today?”

Checking over his shoulder that you are covered, Jake hopes his face, ears, and neck aren’t turning as red as they feel. He watches how Mingyu sips at his coffee like he has no troubles in the world; he’s on top of the world, and Jake realizes that he probably is. Jake kinda knows what that feeling is like—getting some really good pussy—the kind of pussy that makes you feel like you've conquered something impossible, but Mingyu gets you anytime he wants.

“Not until around noon. I have a short shift today and then I’m gonna hang out with Hoon for a bit." Meeting your eyes, Jake starts to shy away when you smile at him so sweetly he can’t do it. Instead, he matches your smile and takes the glass of juice from you, whispering a thank you. “You both work today, right?”

You start to slide on to a seat, but grimace, only sitting on one side, feeling the tender spot on your right side that causes you to shift uncomfortably and glare at Mingyu. “Gyu does, but I work from home on Friday’s. So you’ll have me annoying you unfortunately, Jakey.”

“Oh—you’d never… I mean, I don’t want to be in the way of you working, Y/N. I can go hang out in my room.”

Stepping closer to you, Mingyu sets his empty cup on the counter so he can slide his hand along your right hip. You hear him chuckle when you jump slightly at his touch and mutter his name before meeting his eyes before his lips brush over yours. “What? I’m trying to say goodbye, beautiful. Give me a kiss?”

Jake starts to look away, but he doesn’t fully. His eyes only glance away and back when you sigh a small fine on Mingyu’s lips before giving into the tender kiss. The air felt different than it had last night. Maybe the conversation he had with Mingyu had made a difference in their relationship—maybe Mingyu getting laid had put him into a better mood, but as Jake watched you smile into the kiss, he couldn’t help but furrow his brows curiously.

“Love you, baby. Have a good day.” Mingyu loved leaving you breathless. He knew he was being a bit rude to Jake with all the PDA, but it wasn’t really public. It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault that Jake was in his kitchen and he wasn’t going to change his affection for you when he was madly in love with you and you made him feel insane by just existing.

Sighing softly, Mingyu presses one more kiss to your cheek before stepping back and picking up his jacket, finally meeting Jake’s eyes, surprised to see him looking in his direction. He had half expected him to be looking away like he had when your dress had been pulled up, but no—Jake wasn’t shying away this time. Interesting. What was that about? With no time to figure it out, Mingyu smirks slightly and tilts his head, half challenging the look on his brother’s face. “Have a good day, Jakey. Remember the rules.”

Mingyu had never called him Jakey; he could feel the lump in his throat, but Jake just nodded and muttered his goodbye. That had been weird and slightly unsettling. There was a lot of work out mentally, but Jake didn’t have time when your sweet voice brought him back to reality as you both heard the front door shut.

“That good for breakfast?”

Blinking a few times, Jake tilts his head and you smile into a laugh at how cute and puppylike he looks. At times like this, he really reminds you of Mingyu and it’s almost possible to see a “family” resemblance without there being any blood shared. “You are so cute, Jakey. I was asking if pancakes sounded good for breakfast. I’m craving something sweet.”

Jake sighs, his cheeks once again heating him as he licks his lips, trying to hide how much your works effect him. “Oh. Su–sure, Y/N. Whatever you want.”

Shaking your head, you giggle as you turn back to the fridge, taking things out for breakfast. Glancing over your shoulder, you find Jake still watching you, his eyes moving over your back and you almost swear lower, before finally he meets your eyes shyly. “Careful, don’t spoil me like that. I’ll get used to you giving me what I want and then you’ll be trapped.”

You were kidding, right? Obviously… but Jake’s stomach was flipping and his heart was in his throat. He would; he’d give you everything you wanted. Did you want him on his knees for you? Just ask and he’d crawl for you everywhere he went. Did you want him to bring you treats from the restaurant every day? He would. He wasn’t even supposed to use his discount for shit like that—but for you… fuck management.

“Well—” Scoffing, trying to sound nonchalant, Jake swallows hard and brushes his fingers through his hair unconsciously, drawing your attention not only back to it but also to the definition of the muscles in his arms. He wasn’t as big as Mingyu, nowhere as close, but he wasn’t the scrawny little teen that you knew before. God, you were being reminded at every turn that Jake was all grown up. Using the thin hairtie on his wrist, Jake pulls his hair up into a low bun and smirks slightly at you. “Doesn’t sound half bad. Mingyu seems to be doin’ alright.”

Oh, you hadn’t expected an answer like that. He was teasing you back? God, why was that making you want to push your thighs together? It was because his words instantly made you start to feel wet. That was crazy. And watching him tie up his hair, you were almost salivating. You were salivating and getting wet over your boyfriend’s stepbrother in your kitchen on a Friday morning when you were supposed to be making him pancakes. This was pathetic. Or was it? He looked like a walking wet dream. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you were doing something wrong. It was just your body’s natural reaction.

“That so?” Pouring ingredients into the bowl, you watch Jake as his eyes almost boldly move over you now until you meet his eyes and the confidence seems to falter. You see him lick his lips and how he looks down his phone on the counter, fidgeting with it. Maybe he was all talk, but he had started it. “You think Mingyu does anything I want him to? I snap my fingers, say bark, and he answers like a well-behaved dog?”

Scrolling through Instagram as if it’s a lifeline, Jake’s eyes widen almost theatrically at your words as he glances up at you, then back down at his phone to take a deep breath. “I—what are we even talking about, Y/N? Kinda a weird way to imagine my bro—”

“You started it, Jakey. Is it too hot in the kitchen?”

That was fair. You had him there. Smiling as he keeps his head down towards his phone, Jake nods before finally meeting your eyes and holding up a hand as if he’s surrendering. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

You laugh, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stir your pancake batter, watching Jake come to terms with his own teasing. “You weren’t. I was having fun.” Humming softly, you pout at your bowl and look up at Jake before tilting your head. “Chocolate chip pancakes, Jakey?”

God, you were going to be the cause of his death. Jake’s head was spinning with how you could tease him and then flip the conversation back to breakfast just like that. Nodding, Jake lets out a slow breath and licks his lips, turning his attention back to his phone. “Yeah, sounds yummy.”

Staring out at the road, Jake shakes his head as Sunghoon turns yet another song off before it finishes. That was one of Park Sunghoon’s fatal flaws and subsequently Jake’s least favorite thing about his best friend. “Dude, if you touch that phone one more fuckin—”

“What is stuck up your ass? This is my car and my phone.” Sunghoon glances at Jake as he drove, trying to split his attention between the road and his friend. Jake could be moody, but today he had been in a weird mood all day. “You not sleep or—”

“Sorry.” Jake’s voice was meeker than he meant it to be, but he had a lot on his mind. He was replaying his first week at his brother’s house on repeat in his brain and it was giving him a headache and other issues. “Thanks for the ride home again. Gyu keeps sayin’ that he’s gonna let me use Y/N’s or something, but that feels weird.”

Shaking head, Sunghoon sighs as the reason for the weird mood comes to light. Jake hadn’t been less open about shit since he had gotten to his stepbrother’s house. It was starting to make Sunghoon worry. Was Jake like a live-in servant or something? Was this a cry for help? Or was something else going on? “I say use it if they are gonna let you. I mean, not like I care driving you around but you’re gonna have to dish out for gas eventually.”

Groaning under his breath, Jake leans his head back against the headrest and nods along with Sunghoon’s words. “I’ll get you some money, asshole. I just—it’s hard to be around her and her shit, ya know?”

Finally. The first night was the only night that Sunghoon could get Jake to talk about you and how it was being around the dream girl. It had been radio silence after that and any prodding had only made Jake mad. "Sure, but why? What happened? Did Mingyu get pissed off about something?”

Jake wished it were that simple. It would be so much easier if his brother were biting his head off about him looking at you or saying something wrong, but no. Shaking his head, Jake knocks his head back against the headrest again and sighs loudly, finally realizing he has to talk about this or it’s going to eat him alive. “I don’t know what I expected living with them. I mean, even you know the stories about Mingyu and how much of a—”

“Slut?”

Snorting into a much-needed laugh, Jake nods, starting to relax in the seat even as they start to get closer to your street, knowing he would have to go inside and see you. “Yeah, a slut. He’s practically a legend at uni, but then he met Y/N and blah blah, love of his life; he’s only got eyes for her.” Seeing Sunghoon nod with a small smirk on his lips, Jake sighs and continues. “And you know how much she gets to me. It’s like being put in front of a buffet and being told, ‘Just look at it but don’t touch it.’”

It had always been that way with you. From the moment that Mingyu had brought you home and introduced you to his family, Jake had been obsessed with you. He dreamed, wished, and prayed to find a girl like you that would take his mind off of you, but that girl so far didn’t fucking exist. “They fuck constantly, Hoon. Loudly. Excessively.”

While Sunghoon had been paying attention and ready to listen to whatever Jake had been telling him, he hadn’t quite been ready for that. Swerving slightly as he looks at his best friend, Sunghoon opens his mouth and closes it before finally laughing at not only how he had reacted but also Jake's face. Jake looked like he wanted to die or be buried and that was so dramatic.

“What? So… Let me get this straight.” Glancing into each mirror, Sunghoon hits his blinker and pulls off to the side of the road just outside of your house to park. “You can hear your brother and Y/N fucking on a regular basis?”

“Almost daily. My headphones block out most of it but their fucking bed hits the wall.” Jake knows he sounds pathetic. He must also look pathetic because Sunghoon is no longer laughing; instead, his brow is raised as he looks towards the house and shakes his head.

“Dude… It’s weird, but... the spank bank material you are gathering will keep you running for years. Can you hear her?”

Sunghoon had to be Jake’s strangest friend, and yet he was his best friend for a reason. Jake was lying to him and himself when he gawked at him, his mouth wide in faux horror and disgust, muttering out excuses of why he couldn’t jerk off to you and his brother fucking.

“I would. I’m just sayin’! The girl of your motherfucking dreams is screaming for more a room over and you aren’t going to picture it’s you while you can and get off to it? Missed opportunity in my humble, fucked-up opinion.”

Fucked up was right, but correct. God, Jake wanted to scream as he glanced towards the house, seeing the porch light on for him. You always left it on for him when he was coming home for work later.

“Text me later?”

Sunghoon’s words bring Jake out of his daze and back to reality as he nods and mutters he will before pushing the car door open. Glancing back at the car, Jake waves before heading up the driveway and finally the steps as he digs out his key with you still on his mind.

“Just like that. What a good girl.” Groaning under his breath, Mingyu tightens his fingers around your hair as your fingers dig into his thighs. Your throat constricts as you gag around his cock, feeling him thrust his hips up towards your mouth. This hadn’t been the plan, but being home alone with you gave you both the opportunity to enjoy each other like you used to.

Before Jake was spending time with you and Mingyu, it didn’t matter what room it was or what time of day you might find yourself turned over and your panties around your ankles. It was kind of nice to have a moment of normalcy and to feel completely exposed and overwhelmed as you choked on your boyfriend’s cock in the living room, forgetting about the time.

Yawning, Jake turns the corner into the kitchen, going towards the fridge to look for leftovers, when he stops in his tracks at the sight in front of him. He had maybe started getting used to hearing Mingyu fuck you, but seeing you with a cock in your mouth was a completely different story.

“Shi—all of it. Swallow it, baby.” Groaning your name, Mingyu leans his head back as he cums into your mouth, his chest rising and falling quickly, feeling you swallow around his hard cock. He thought he had heard the front door open, but his attention had been clearly elsewhere; that had been until his eyes met Jake’s in the kitchen, seeing his brother’s eyes move from his over you and back up.

What was there to say or do? Mingyu could move you quickly and get the slowly softening cock out of your mouth, but you were warm and wet. Why would he do that? Especially when Jake wasn’t moving. He looked stunned and something else. Smirking his eyes fixed on Jake’s, Mingyu runs his fingers over your head, whispering praises to you as you giggle, happy to have done a good job. It’s only then does Mingyu see Jake move quickly out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Pretty girl, enjoy sucking my cock?”

It was quiet by the time that Jake came out of his bedroom the next morning. He felt a bit mortified about the entire situation. Not only did Mingyu very clearly know that Jake had seen them, but he knew that Jake had watched. The thing that was killing Jake was that Mingyu had let him watch and he hadn’t come in his room to cuss him out or to tell him to pack his shit; there was none of that.

But the worse part was that Jake had stuck to Sunghoon’s advice after the visual inspiration. He had been so hard that he had no choice. He felt like if he didn’t cum, if he didn’t think about you, his cock might fall off. So he had done just that. Jake had laid back on the bed you had set up for him and he had wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it hard and fast until he came hard, cum covering his hand and the front of his shirt as he whispered your name like a prayer.

Now as he carried his dirty clothes in his hands, Jake glanced around the seemingly empty house timidly until he knew he was actually alone. Relief washing over him, he moved into the laundry room and opened the washer, dropping his clothes along with the freshly cum-stained shirt in. It was a dream come true to have all the amenities of home accessible to him while he was staying with you and Mingyu, especially if he was going to keep fucking up and ruining the limited amount of shit he had brought to wear.

Pursing his lips, Jake narrows his eyes as the washer settings, hoping he’s done it right before starting to turn out of the room when his eyes land on the basket of laundry in the room near the door. A quick glance inside tells him what he already knew; clearly it was your dirty clothes mixed with Mingyu’s. If he was nice, Jake could have thrown some in with his own. He still could.

Weighing his options, Jake carefully picks through a few of the clothes to make sure the colors match before bringing the basket closer to the washer, stopping the load he had started adding some to his own. It isn’t until he brings out a lacy pair of your panties that he stops in his tracks, almost dropping them back into the basket before stopping.

The normal, gentlemanly thing to do would be to either figure out if he could add them to the washer or drop them back into the basket, but Jake was neither a gentleman nor normal as he stared at the lace between his fingers. Taking a breath, he glances towards the open laundry room door, listening for anyone, knowing he’s still alone, before giving into his urges and bringing the panties to his nose and closing his eyes.

Furrowing his brows, Jake groans under his breath, leaning against the washer with the lace still against his nose even as he opens his eyes. You were perfect. This wasn’t even close to the real thing and it had Jake getting hard in his sweatpants. He didn’t want to add the panties to the washer or the basket so he didn’t. Instead, Jake closed the washer, letting it start, and pushed the basket back where it was before slipping the lace into his pocket. You’d probably wonder what happened to them at some point, but things got lost in the laundry all the time.

“Jakey!”

Pouting as you glance over your shoulder at your floor-length mirror, you stretch your fingers but just can’t quite reach the zipper of your dress to zip up your favorite dress. A smile quickly takes the place of your pout when the crack in your door slowly widens and Jake’s eyes meet yours in the reflection before he glances over your body, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, Y/N? You okay?” God, what were you trying to do to him? It was supposed to be another evening where Jake was going to have the house to himself for most of the evening. You and Mingyu were going to some business dinner with Mingyu’s boss. Sunghoon was going to be over any second, and here you were with your clothes half off...

“Help me, Jakey... My fingers are too short to reach.”

You had no idea, or maybe you did, the effect of your words on Jake. The way you phrased things, the way you smiled so innocently while looking so incredibly sexy in a dress that hugged your curves so well. Jake stiffles a groan and nods before moving into your bedroom and towards you as you turn towards the mirror. “You look—you are really nice, Y/N.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you lower your lashes as you meet Jake’s eyes in the mirror, feeling his fingers run along your spine until he finally reaches the zipper, working it up for you. “Thank you. I was hoping I might look better than nice. Pretty maybe? Sexy?”

Scoffing, Jake has to bite his lips in order not to make any more sound than that when he meets your eyes once again, seeing you holding a necklace up and expecting him to clasp the chain around your neck for you. “You are pretty and sexy. Beautiful even. I’m sorry I didn’t use any of those adjectives before. You make me kinda—” Shaking his head, Jake laughs and furrows his brows, focusing on the small clasp and managing to get the necklace secure for you. “Nervous.”

Your cheeks heat up slightly at Jake’s compliments, the words reminding you of Mingyu’s and even when the two of you first got together—that new love excitement. “Oh?” Turning towards Jake, standing almost too close to him, you smile, reaching up to push his bangs from his eyes as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why? Do you still have a crush on me, Jakey?”

Opening his mouth in surprise, Jake wants to answer you—to defend himself when he’s saved by the bell, literally. Turning his head towards the sound of the doorbell, he whispers Sunghoon’s name and you laugh sweetly, leaning to press a kiss to his cheek close to his lips. “Go on. I’ll be down in a bit. Thank you for zipping my dress and helping me with my necklace.”

If Jake’s face hadn’t been red before, it was now. Running his fingers over the spot where your lips had been, Jake gives you a dopey smile as he takes a step backwards, hitting the end of your bed before almost tripping out of the room and towards the hall. "No—yeah, no problem.” Another ring of the doorbell has Jake moving faster even as you laugh again, enamored by him. “Yeah! Coming! Stop touching the fuckin’ bell, Hoon!”

Surprised when the door flings open quickly, Sunghoon’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, giving Jake a once-over, seeing how flushed he is. “Were you jerking off? I don’t want to be part of it. Not without a 24-hour notice.”

"Oh, my fucking god. If you don’t get in the house and shut your fucking mouth—”

“Fine! But seriously, why are you—oh...”

Holding onto the banister to keep balance so you can put on your heels, you smile at Jake and Sunghoon, feeling both sets of eyes on you. Jake made you feel a certain way, but Sunghoon was just adorable with how he was gawking at you. “Hi Hoonie! Why don’t you come over more often? You must have girls crawling all over you.”

You were speaking but Jake couldn’t really keep up. Sunghoon, on the other hand, just smiled sideways and let out a disbelieving breath that you thought he could pull in girls like that. “You—you look hot as fuck, Y/N. Where are you off to?”

Grabbing your coat, you slip it over your shoulders and hum in appreciation, hearing the door opening again as Mingyu slips inside, already dressed for the night. “Gyu and I have dinner with his boss. Have to make a good impression so he can keep making enough money to afford me.”

There were a lot of people in his foyer currently, but Mingyu’s eyes quickly found you and moved over you with a mixture of lust and appreciation. “She’s expensive and worth it. Goddamn baby, you look beautiful. You ready to go?”

Taking his hand, you smile against Mingyu’s lips, having to push him away when his free hand wraps around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss. “Apparently even more than you.” Turning back towards Jake and Sunghoon, you lift your shoulders and meet Jake’s eyes specifically. “There are leftovers in the fridge for you both.” All three watch as a slight pout forms on your lips. “You’ll probably be in bed when we get back, so night Jakey and, oh, bye Sunghoon.”

Mingyu shakes his head letting you slip out the door before him before he turns back towards Jake barely glancing at Sunghoon. “Probably early morning before we’ll be back, but if you need us just call.”

“Dude… I’m 22.”

Laughing, Mingyu starts to turn towards the door before he holds up his finger and leans out the door. “Baby, I’ll be right there. I need my cuff links.”

Jake and Sunghoon watch Mingyu jog up the stairs, both slightly dazed, before Sunghoon scoffs and pushes Jake’s shoulder. “She’s so fucking hot. Literally, no fuckin’ wonder no chick at uni meets your standards; they have to live up to Y/N? Who’s gonna do that?”

Starting to tell him to shut up, or at least to lower his voice, Jake starts to speak to Sunghoon when he sees Mingyu back at the end of the stairs with that same smirk on his face that he had seen from the couch. The lump in his throat is hard to swallow but he manages to swallow it as his brother moves back towards him, ruffling his hair and winking at Sunghoon, telling them both to have a goodnight before closing the door behind him.

"Oh, my... god. Do you think he heard me?”

“Fuckin’ obviously you, moron.”

You had enjoyed just enough wine to make you sleepy and feel that euphoric fuzzy kind of numb feeling in your brain. Mingyu’s hand was resting on your thigh as he drove back from the city towards home and you were smiling at the color of the sky. The sun wasn’t quite rising but the moon was starting to set. It was such a funny thing, but so beautiful.

“Did you have fun, sweetheart?” Mingyu could hear your soft, sweet hums and breaths as you looked around, finally meeting his eyes briefly before he looked back at the road. Giving a gentle squeeze to your thigh, he grins when you giggle under your breath. He loved you all the time, but there was something about you when you were completely relaxed like this. He loved seeing you without a care in the world.

“So much fun. Do you think your boss liked me? Did—” Hiccuping, you giggle again, putting your fingers to your lips and whispering an apology, finding Mingyu still smiling at you. “Did I make a good impression for you?”

Mingyu knew what you were asking, but that was the first time in the past hour that you had made his smile fade even slightly. He never wanted you to feel like you had to put on a face or a show for him or anyone else. He knew why you might think you needed to, but that was another reason he hadn’t pulled the ring out of the top of the closet yet and gotten down on one knee. It would put even more pressure on you to perform and to be Mrs. Kim. He wanted to give you more time to just be Y/N. His sweet, precious, perfect Y/N.

“You are perfect. I don’t care what Mr. Lee thinks of me... and I—baby, it’s not that I don’t care what he thinks about you, but I don’t value his opinion. I only value you.”

Your lips form a pout and Mingyu can literally see the tears forming on your eyes. He knows you are an emotional drinker. He hopes the tears aren’t from disappointing you or making you sad—

“Why would you say that to me? Right now? Gyu!”

His eyes widening, Mingyu checks his mirrors and pulls off the side to the side of the road, putting his car in park so he can cup your cheeks in his hands wiping your tears away. “I’m sorry. Baby… sweetie. Aww… no. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Weakly smacking at his chest, you sob, fat tears falling over his thumbs as you take a deep breath and let it out as you say his name. “You’re too sweet. I don’t deserve you. Oh my god.”

Staring at you, Mingyu presses his lips together as you lean your head back dramatically and he knows you aren’t sad, but once again just overly emotional with the alcohol running through your system. "Sweetheart, you aren’t mad at me?”

Feeling your stomach twist with anxiety, you turn your head towards Mingyu and sniff hard, seeing him smiling at you. His handsome face almost breaks your heart in that moment. “Oh my god! No!”

That told Mingyu all he needed as he laughed through his nose on a breath, forcing himself not to let you know he was amused by you. Leaning across the center console, he presses a kiss to your warm, wet cheek, whispering that he loves you before checking his mirrors once again and pulling the car back out onto the road heading towards home.

“I don’t know why you’d think I’m mad. I could never be mad. You are handsome and perfect and the love of my life.” Whining out the words, you feel your tears finally start to dry up even as you hold Mingyu’s hand in yours tightly, hearing him laugh under his breath. “Don’t laugh at me. ‘M serious. Why are you so pretty? How are you and Jakey so pretty? Oh my god… It’s crazy to be in the house with you both.”

Lifting his brow at your words, Mingyu slides his thumb along your palm, hearing you sniffling once again. Jake was pretty too, huh? That was interesting. “Is it, baby? Are Jake and I too pretty to live with? Do you want me to have Jakey leave?”

Smacking at Mingyu’s arm, you whine his name and shake your head. “No, please. I like having him around. ‘M sorry, Gyu. I won’t look anymore. I’ve been bad, right? Shouldn’t look at Jakey.” Lifting your hand, you cover your eyes and Mingyu can’t help but grin at how cute you are and how innocent it is with such an obvious sinful meaning. You were ashamed of something. He knew he should wait until you were sober to talk about this, but you were being so forthcoming now...

“Oh, you’ve been looking?” Pursing his lips, Mingyu turns at one of the last redlights that counted down the minutes until he could get you inside the house and into a warm bed. “Tell me, bad girl... how have you been looking? Elaborate.”

Lowering your hand, you glance over at Mingyu, feeling the warmth in your stomach spreading as you think about Jake and watching him tie up his hair. You think about his fingers trailing up your back; you picture sitting over his lap. “He’s not a kid anymore.”

That wasn’t what Mingyu had asked you. That was what Mingyu had told you several times. Narrowing his eyes at the road in front of him, Mingyu slides his hand from yours and slides it along your thigh, feeling you take in a deep breath at the contact. “I’m well aware. I told you to elaborate on how you’ve been looking at Jake.”

Was Mingyu mad at you? He didn’t seem like it. You were enjoying how his fingertips were kneading into your flesh at the end of your dress as he urged you to talk. “Mm, like I look at you, Gyu.”

That told Mingyu what he needed to know. “Oh. That's why you don’t want me to tell the pretty Jakey to get out of the house? You want to keep looking at him? Rubbing your thighs together while looking at him?”

He could read you like a book and you were doing that right now—rubbing your thighs together. Whining Mingyu’s name, you nod and lick your lips, hoping he will give you something—anything that you’d want—but then the car pulls into the driveway and Mingyu’s hand slides from your lap.

“Time for bed, darling.”

Phone propped up against his water bottle, Jake lifts a spoon of cereal towards his mouth and sighs around the bite. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen in front of him until he sees you out of the corner of his eyes. It isn’t even just that; he sees your skin as you lean against the fridge door, taking out a bottle of water with a pout on your face.

You couldn’t be bothered with much of anything once you woke up. You hadn’t even wanted to be awake but you had a boyfriend who, even on a Saturday morning, had a desire to stay in shape. So at 8 am, his alarm clock was going off and your head was busting. Now you found yourself standing in your kitchen with a dry mouth in one of Mingyu’s shirts that reached just under your ass and a pair of panties. It hadn’t even dawned on you that Jake was in the room or that he would be awake. You only thought was the water to wash down the ibuprofen waiting for you in your bathroom.

“You want a picture, Jake? It’ll last longer.”

Mingyu’s teasing voice brings you back to reality and you wince at the light shining from the window behind him as you turn around to see him and Mingyu both watching you. "Sorry, my fault. Just wanted—” Holding up the water in your hand, you don’t find it necessary to finish the sentence before you pout at Mingyu and trudge past him back towards the stairs.

Laughing under his breath, Mingyu runs his fingers through his hair before taking out a bottle of water for himself and meeting Jake’s uncertain eyes. “She’s hungover. She’ll be fine in a couple hours.” Mingyu watches Jake nod slowly as if there is something else he is waiting for, and then it dawns on him. Jake is probably waiting to get bitched at for how he was looking at you. It probably should piss him off; honestly, he had threatened to beat someone’s ass for less, but it was something about who it was and what had been said just a few hours earlier that had Mingyu holding his tongue. “With that said... I’m headed to the gym with Jungkook. Can you check in on her in a bit? Make sure she eats something. I’d owe you.”

Jake nods and lets his eyes follow his brother all the way to the front door until it closes behind him, leaving Jake alone in the house with you. Glancing towards the stairs, he listens for sounds of you being alive, but at first there is nothing and Jake wonders if perhaps you had gone back to sleep. Maybe that was what you needed. He had never seen you quite like that before. Yes, you had walked around in tiny little shorts, but that look on your face—Jake had never seen that one before. You didn’t give a shit because you felt like shit.

Hangovers were something that Jake knew all too well. Mingyu wanted you to eat something and maybe, just maybe, this was where he could come in handy. Sliding off his chair, Jake cleans up his dishes and moves to the fridge to take out a few things before moving to the stove to get to work.

Forcing yourself back out of bed, you whine at the persistent headache that clings to the back of your eyes. You could smell something from downstairs but as bad as you felt, you couldn’t even think about food right now. All you wanted was a shower and to get back in bed. Mingyu had told you to take your meds, drink your water, and eat, but his ass had gone off to pick up heavy things with his best friend so you could do whatever the fuck you wanted to do. Right now that was to stand under hot water until your skin melted off. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but at least that was how you wanted it to feel.

Dropping clothes on your way across the hall, you leave the door to your bathroom cracked as you turn on your shower and step under the hot water, letting out a relieved sigh when the water starts to massage your sensitive skin. You always felt like you had 92 extra feeling receptors on your body when you were hungover. You didn’t care if Mingyu told you that didn’t make any sense; it made sense to you. Everything felt better or worse depending on what it was, but this shower was perfection.

Sliding the avocado toast to a plate, Jake bites his lip and opens the fridge one last time, looking at the different juices and water you and Mingyu stocked. He had doubts that Mingyu was the one buying all of them, but then ones labeled “extra protein” made him second guess that you were the one buying them. Grabbing the coconut water, Jake pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours it 3/4ths of the way full before glancing around for how he was going to carry all of this up to you when his eyes land on a tray tucked into one of the bottom cabinets. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought of this sort of thing.

Eyes focused on the food in front of him, Jake balances the tray on his hands as he walks up the stairs towards your room, stopping at the top when he sees clothes on the floor. Those hadn’t been there this morning. It’s only then that he hears the shower and notices the steam billowing from your cracked bathroom door.

“Oh fuck—” You hadn’t closed the door? Glancing behind him, Jake sucks on his bottom lip, making sure his palm is firm under the breakfast tray in his hands before he starts towards your bedroom and tells himself he’s not going to look in your bathroom. He won’t disrespect your privacy like that, but then you sigh so pretty and sing under your breath. It’s like a siren’s song pulling Jake towards the door.

Leaning your head back under the stream of water, you close your eyes and hum along with the song in your head, starting to feel the medicine kick in. You don’t notice Jake standing in the crack of the door, his eyes moving over your body through the steamed-up glass shower door.

Jake watches for a few seconds longer, his breath quickening as his eyes walk the shape of your breasts down to your hip, where the glass is too steamed up for him to see you clearly. He wants to stay longer and watch you the entire time, but guilt sinks in when you lift your hands to your hair, squeezing water from it and Jake worries you’re going to catch him. Taking a step back, he takes a deep breath to calm himself, not realizing you had opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of him just before he is out of sight.

Leaning his head back, Jake curses at himself under his breath for how much of a perv he is being when it comes to you. He thinks about your panties tucked safely away in his duffle bag, soiled with his cum. He considers dropping your food off on your bed and locking himself away in his room with them beating out the latest growing problem, but he’s too late.

“Oh, Jakey! Hi…”

Hand on your bedroom door, Jake closes his eyes and sighs before opening then and glancing back at you. What the fuck was going on today? “Y/N…”

Tucking the towel under your arm, you smile at Jake and lean down to pick up your discarded clothes, feeling water dripping down your legs as you do. You could feel Jake’s eyes on you right up to the point that you straightened your body in front of him and his tray of food. “What’s all this?”

Licking his lips, Jake attempts and fails to keep his eyes on your face when a bead of water rolls from behind your ear and down the side of your neck to your collarbone. “We—I thought—well… Yours. Your breakfast. Gyu told me to make sure you ate.”

He was adorably flustered and it was going straight to your head. How much had he seen of you? God, why was it turning you on so much wanting to know? Smiling sweetly, you push your bedroom door open with the tips of your fingers. “That’s so sweet, Jakey. You made me breakfast in bed.”

Jake takes a deep breath, a half-dopey smile on his face, feeling proud of himself as you walk in the room before him. “I—yeah. Um, he said—he said you had a hangover and I know that when I wake up feeling trashed, this kinda helps me.”

You had glanced at the food on the tray. You could see the fatty, oily avocado toast with an egg and you had smelled the coconut water—electrolytes. You could almost picture him on the phone with Mingyu getting the after-party cure-all recipes because you had gotten similar breakfasts from your boyfriend before.

“Mm, it looks so yummy.” Dropping your slept-in clothes into the hamper, you lift your brows as Jake stands in the doorframe of your bedroom staring at you. He really was so cute and oblivious. “You can leave it on the bed, sweetie. I gotta get some clothes on, unless you are dying to see me naked.”

God was he... But you asking him that outright made Jake’s face flush instantly and his feet move. “Oh shit, sorry. Here you go.” Setting the tray safely on your bed, Jake shyly lifts his eyes back up to you as you rest your thumb under your arm, ready to unwrap your towel. Would you take it off? It was wrong of him to hope so.

Biting your bottom lip, you keep your eyes locked on Jake's, almost daring him to stay where he is until he chicken’s out and whispers he’ll see you later closing your door behind him. The moment the door is closed, you let the towel drop to the floor with a pout.

You weren’t really paying attention to the movie. You had other things on your mind as you leaned against Mingyu’s chest, feeling his fingers press into your waist. Glancing towards the end of the couch where your feet brushed against Jake’s thigh, you bit back a smirk watching him take another deep breath as you “stretched” and “got comfortable” between the two men.

“You okay, baby?” Mingyu could tell you were a bit restless. It wasn’t like the couch was massive, but when Jake had offered to sit on the recliner, you had almost thrown a fit. Moving his eyes along your body, Mingyu purses his lips, seeing your toes tucked against Jake’s leg and Jake's hands wring with nerves. “Stretch your legs out. I’m sure Jake won’t care, right, dude? You don’t care if she puts her legs in your lap, do you?”

Oh good, they were both trying to murder him. Slowly meeting his brother’s eyes, Jake shakes his head no and fakes a nonchalant look. “Nah, course not.” But the moment you giggle, happy to have seemingly gotten your way, able to stretch out over top of them, Jake wants to die. Resting one hand on his chest and the other on the arm of the couch, Jake hopes and prays to every god listening he won’t pop a boner from just the weight of your legs.

“You don’t have to be so rigid, Jakey. I’ll move... You look uncomfortable. Am I making you uncomfort—”

“What? No!” You had started pouting not even after a full minute of seeing Jake move his hands around anywhere but on you. Resting one hand on your calf and the other on your ankle, he taps your leg, showing you he’s fine. “I’m so comfortable, see?”

Meanwhile, Mingyu smirks behind his fingers, rubbing his lips. You were causing Jake to spiral and Mingyu knew that feeling all to well. You had played him like a well-tuned instrument, and now he knew the song and dance seeing it with someone else.

“Okay, thank you.” You giggle into your words, nuzzling against Mingyu’s chest. Sighing happily, you stretch your legs over Jake’s lap even more, causing them to drag over where he had hoped they wouldn’t.

Leaning his head back, Jake brings one of his hands up, closing it into a tight fist as he forces himself to stop breathing until you stop wiggling. His other hand holds your calf firmly, but not so tight that you realize something is wrong. It’s Mingyu who catches on first when Jake takes that first shaky breath and he watches how his fist relaxes.

“You good?”

Jake wanted to lie and stay where he was, but it was like you were moving on purpose. Any hope that he had of trying to keep himself from popping a boner of his brother’s girlfriend was basically out the window as you flexed your toes and sighed at the movie, not really paying attention to either Jake or Mingyu.

“Ye–yeah. No… I mean yes, but I have to use the bathroom. Sorry.” Carefully moving your legs, Jake doesn’t meet your eyes even when he hears your whine before he’s quickly out of the room and up the stairs.

Mingyu’s eyes follow Jake as he keeps his arm around you, not letting you sit up too far. You had done enough damage for one night. “Stop it. Are you that needy?”

Pouting, you pull your legs close under you, drawing invisible shapes on Mingyu’s stomach over his abs as he teases you. “I don’t know what you’re talking—” The sharp slap to the side of your thigh causes you to yelp and stop lying. “Should I apologize to him?”

Warm fingers rub over where he had spanked you just seconds before, soothing the burn as Mingyu’s attention returns to the television and the last few moments of the movie you had barely watched. “Not tonight. He’s busy dealing with a problem you caused, I’m sure. Besides… you’re about to be busy too.”

Your panties were beyond ruined at this point, so much so that Jake hadn’t even pulled them out of his duffle bag. Instead he had his face buried in his pillow as he rutted his hips against his bedding, his palm against the outline of his hard cock, remembering how it felt to have your legs rubbing against him. Did you really not know what you had been doing to him? Were you that naive?

The sound of your bedroom door shutting pulls Jake back to the present and has him lifting his head for a breath of fresh air. The movie must be over. Fuck… He felt bad now. He had lied about where he was going, but there was no way he could have stayed on that couch with you and Mingyu, letting his cock get harder and harder under your pretty legs.

Pushing his hand into his shorts, Jake wraps his fingers around his cock and grunts softly to the feeling. He had done this so many times at this point that his wrist was starting to hurt. He jacked off at school, but in the couple of weeks at your house he had done it every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.

Giggling and then the bed hitting the wall. Fuck. Fuck his life. You and Mingyu were fucking again. Jake was going to need a wrist brace and you two were going to need to patch the fucking wall with how many times the two of you fucked.

“Gyu, ah! Yes… I’m sorry, daddy.”

Daddy? That was new, but it had Jake kicking his shorts across the room and him pulling one of his pillows further down in the bed between his legs so he could rest his cock against it. You were whining so loudly tonight, almost like you wanted him to hear you. Jake felt like his skin was on fire as he rolled his hips against the pillow, slowly at first enjoying the drag of his cock against the cotton.

Groaning loudly against your folds, Mingyu pushes your legs up towards your stomach. You were so fucking wet. He knew you would be. You always were after teasing him or anyone. You had felt Jake getting hard, you knew exactly what you were doing and you had played dumb. He’d treat you just like you were acting, like a dumb little slut. His dumb little slut.

“Taste so fucking good, baby. This is what you are good for, right?” Leaning back enough to admire your soaked pussy, Mingyu smirks before spitting right on to your folds, watching the glob of spit mix with your slick. “All dumb sluts want is to be fucked? You’d lay here like this all day and let anybody do it, wouldn’t you?”

Shaking your head no, you sob out Mingyu’s name when he sucks hard at your clit, not letting you have any wiggle room. In the position you were in, there was no where for you to go, no getting away from him. All you could do was hold on to his hair and beg for mercy, not that you wanted him to stop. You loved it. You wanted it. “No! No, not true. Ah! Daddy… no! Just you.”

God, what was Mingyu doing to you to have you whining and screaming like that? Grunting out your name against his arm, Jake rolls more on to his stomach and thrusts into his pillow before falling onto it. Each one of your yelps and moans has him chasing his high, humping the pillow pathetically almost like a dog.

“Don’t lie to me." Licking your cum from his lips, Mingyu untangles your legs and pulls one over his shoulder as he lines up his cock with your clenching entrance. With one smooth motion, he buries himself completely in you, relishing in your loud moan of his name. He knew at the end of the day no one else mattered for you. He was your earth and sun, just like you were his moon and stars, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t like to play and want playthings. "But it’s cute when you try.”

You were lying and you’d keep lying if it kept Mingyu’s cock inside of you like it was now. The moment that Jake had gotten to your house, the sex had been even more mind-blowing. At first you had been convinced that it was Mingyu’s possessive nature, but now it was something else. He enjoyed watching you pursue Jake. He enjoyed watching Jake get flustered and panic over you.

Kissing the shell of your ear as he ruts his hips against yours, Mingyu grins into his words, keeping them low. “Wish that he was in the room, hmm? Want Jakey to watch your pussy get ruined?” God, you were squeezing the life out of him. It was tempting to tell Jake to stop fisting his dick and get his ass in here, but Mingyu instead groaned loudly to the feeling.

There was no slowing down now. Jake was panting and moaning your name with every bang of your bed against the wall until finally his cum was sticky painting his pillow and stomach. Turning over on his back, Jake tries to catch his breath listening to you scream out Mingyu’s name one more time as you cum, followed by a loud groan from his brother as he seemingly follows you over that edge.

This was so fucked up.

“Mm, thank you, Jakey. Mingyu hates helping me do laundry.”

Jake smiles at you until you bend over in front of him, your tight jean shorts gripping your ass perfectly as you dig in your laundry basket. “It—it’s no biggie. I said I’d help out around the house. Wan—” Taking a deep breath, Jake has to take a step back when you stumble backwards against his hips, making him catch you, hands on your waist. “Woah, you okay?”

Giggling, you look over your shoulder at Jake, moving from his lips to his eyes, nodding. “Yes, I got a little lightheaded bending over like that. Sorry…” You could move, you should move, but you are enjoying feeling Jake’s body against your back and his fingers pressing into your sides.

“Oh… You wanna sit down? Are you feeling better?”

He was so precious. He believed you no matter what you said. It was like he actually bought your innocent routine, but that is what made this so much more fun. Nodding, you slide your hand over Jake’s forearm before taking his hand and letting him lead you out of the laundry room and into the kitchen towards one of the chairs.

“Up you go, beautiful.”

Now Jake had your face feeling warm and flushed. He had started doing that, calling you beautiful or pretty, but never around Mingyu. “Mm, you are so sweet, Jakey. You make me feel so pretty. How many girlfriends do you really have on retainer back at school?”

Laughing, Jake starts to step away when you turn the kitchen island chair towards him, catching him between your thighs. Fuck. Looking down at your legs resting on either side of his hips, Jake takes a steadying breath and tries to keep his cool, resting his hand on the counter beside of you. “You are pretty, the prettiest. Mingyu tells you all the time so... don’t need me to remind you.” Your sweet smile and laugh make Jake feel like he’s floating, your fingers timidly walking along his, doodling absentmindedly as you listen to him talk. “I don’t fuck around much at uni, Y/N. College girls don’t do it for me.”

You could feel his eyes move over your face and along your neck to the v-cut of your shirt before he met your eyes again. “Oh? You breaking their hearts?” Jake laughs, rolling his eyes as he glances away from you, shaking his head as you keep prodding about his relationships. “If college girls “don’t do it for you," what kind of girl would? Just curious, what my Jakey might bring home one day.”

Licking his lips, Jake scoffs, keeping his head turned away from you as he considers how to answer you. Your Jakey. Fuck. He wanted to be yours. In truth, in every way that he could be, he already was. He had been in bed with girls at parties before and muttered your name, leaving them crying and asking who Y/N was. If Jake had found himself in a relationship, it never lasted for more than a couple weeks before she was annoying him with how immature she was. “I’m not looking for a girl. Too whiny and—” Jake’s smirk gets wider, another scoff slipping from his lips as he lifts his free hand to brush through his hair you like so much. “Young. I want a woman. I’m not bringing anyone home.”

Oh, that was interesting. Tilting your head, you nod along with Jake’s words, circling his knuckle with your nail before biting at your bottom lip. “I see. What am I going to do with you, huh?” You watch Jake’s brows furrow, the confusion settling in on his face as he meets your eyes once again. “I’d say it makes me sad that you aren’t getting any at school but..." Biting at your lips once again, you let your eyes move over Jake openly and he feels exposed and raw.

Shifting uncomfortably, Jake isn’t sure if he should try to escape from between your knees or if he should step forward, but you don’t give him the option to choose. Sliding forward in your chair, you sigh his name and Jake groans quietly, feeling the warmth between your legs. “Y/N… shit. Uh… I—the laundry, I’ll switch it out.”

Jake tugs his hand from under yours, and you watch with a smirk as he adjusts his shorts, heading back for the laundry room, muttering under his breath.

“Thanks for the help, sweetie.”

“She was practically on me. I’m projecting, right?” Whispering loudly into his phone, Jake paces in front of his bed as he tugs at his hair, holding his phone with his other hand.

Sunghoon was getting to wonder if he should double major in psychology as many times as his best friend was coming to him to interpret his life lately. He should start charging him for sessions with all the great advice and therapy he was providing the motherfucker. “From what you told me... it depends. Probably. What like some hot little pre-milf is going to present her ass to you? Empty handed? I doubt it.”

Making a face as if he tasted something sour, Jake moves to lean against his dresser, looking at himself in the mirror. Sunghoon was probably as on point as he was disgusting. Calling you a “pre-milf” was insane, but it was also insane to think that you were coming on to him. You were is stepbrother’s girlfriend. Hell, you were practically Mingyu’s wife at this point and Jake had no business looking at you like he was. “Nah—no, you’re right. I’m stupid; there’s no fuckin’ way Y/N—”

“Yeah, Jakey? You calling for me?”

Gasping at your voice, Jake’s eyes widen, wondering how much of his conversation with Sunghoon you had heard. Had you just come upstairs, putting things in the linen closet and just happened to hear your name? Or had you been at his door for longer? “I—no, Y/N.”

“Dude… What is going on?” Confused, Sunghoon sits up at his desk, sliding his computer mouse away from his hand, hearing the panic in Jake’s voice and your name.

“Oh, you sure? Can—can I… Actually, can you help me in my room? I have a bunch of laundry to fold. Some of it is your towels. I was going to just do it on my bed.”

Now Sunghoon could hear your voice and it was making sense. “I’ll let you go.”

“No, man! I can’t—”

“Grow some fuckin’ balls!”

Hearing the beeps in his ear as Sunghoon hangs up on him, Jake leans his head back and closes his eyes when you say his name again. “I—sure. I’m—yep. Coming.” Fridays were becoming the bane of Jake’s existence. You working from home consisted less of you "working," taking a phone call here or there, checking your email once or twice, and more of being around to make his head explode.

Taking a deep breath, Jake knocks softly on your cracked bedroom door before pushing it open to see you sitting in the middle with laundry piled at the end. At least he would have a task to help you with again. He wouldn’t be staring at your tits or feeling your warmth against his half-hard cock—

“Hi! You never came back; I thought you got mad at me. Here, sit. If you can work on towels, I can work on undies and stuff for me and Gyu.”

You were pouting at Jake again. Sitting down on the side of your bed, Jake sighs under his breath and reaches for the first towel as he watches you fold some of Mingyu’s boxers before you pick up a pair of lace that reminds him of now a few stolen pairs hidden in his room. “Could never be mad at you.”

“That’s a relief.” Smiling, you purse your lips and shake your head as you look over your laundry before scoffing in disbelief. “I can’t believe I need to buy new panties already. I swear to god the dryer eats them worse than the socks. Meanwhile, I can’t get Mingyu to throw out his underwear.”

Jake should feel bad seeing you pout over your missing panties, but instead the rush of knowing he had used a pretty red pair just the night before, covering them with his cum makes his heart race. “Throw them away when he’s not home.”

“That’s really smart, Jakey.” Smirking, you pick up a faded pair of Mingyu’s boxers, tossing them into the floor. “Fun what you can get away with when Daddy’s not home, right?” The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh before you reach over and shake his shoulder playfully, getting him to laugh a bit in disbelief with you. "God, I have to get you to loosen up. You look like you’re going to throw up.”

Jake did feel like he might throw up. He could hear you screaming Daddy through the walls and now he was sitting on the bed where Mingyu made you cum night after night after night... It was making him feel like he was going to pass out if he thought about it too hard. "No. I won’t—I’m not—I’m loose.”

That was the biggest lie that Jake had told while he had been here. Shaking your head, you laugh under your breath as you move to your knees to grab a different bit of laundry, sliding it to you on the large bed, feeling Jake’s eyes move over your body. “Yeah, okay, Jakey.” Sitting back, you shake out one of Mingyu’s shirts you use as a nightshirt, meeting Jake’s eyes. “This is what happens when you don’t get laid every once in a while, baby boy. You get all wound up. You wait and you wait for a woman to fuck and suddenly you are made of glass.”

This wasn’t happening. You were not saying these words to him and you did not just call him what Jake thought you called him. Blinking a few times, Jake visibly swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does while he shakily folds another towel. “N–no… what? I don’t… I’m fine.”

“But you aren’t, are you?” Putting the shirt on your lap, you pout at Jake sympathetically. “When was the last time someone touched your cock?” Watching his mouth open to answer you, you speak first. “That wasn’t your own hand?” Jake’s mouth closes and you coo at him, feeling your panties getting wetter thinking about how needy he must be. “Jakey… I’m so sorry. Is it my fault? You can tell me.”

Jake tries to speak again, but you are moving on the bed, your fingers pushing his hair away from his cheek as your knees press into the comforter. Every time he tries to look anywhere else, his eyes find yours or your lips; if he moves them lower, its the cut of your shirt and the peek of your breasts spilling out of your bra. “I—yeah. It’s your fault, Y/N.”

Faking sympathy, you scoot closer to Jake, feeling a pile of your laundry fall off the bed and into the floor as you do. “Oh no… The girl’s weren’t good enough cause—”

The shock of feeling your fingers on his thigh sliding upward causes Jake to gasp. His fingers wrap around your wrist, but he doesn’t dare stop you. “They aren’t you. Wait, Y/N—” Biting his bottom lip, Jake groans, feeling even the slightest pressure of your touch over his half-hard cock. “Shit… Mingyu will murder me.”

Your warm, sweet breath lulls Jake as he tries to calm down, his other hand grasping at the comforter under him as if it will ground him and bring him back to reality out of this dream. “Daddy isn’t home, Jakey.”

This wasn’t happening. Taking a shaky breath, Jake laughs in disbelief when he feels you sit over his thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. He was asleep and this was the most complex and realistic wet dream of his entire life. He would surely wake up any second now, but no… Instead of waking up, Jake feels your lips brush over his cheek as you rock your hips over his.

“Do you want me to move? You don’t want to play with me? I thought I was what you want—” A rush of excitement runs through your veins when Jake finally gives in to your teasing. His fingers grip the back of your neck tightly as he hisses against your soft lips before claiming his first kiss from you. The kiss is urgent and messy while Jake’s free hand slides over your ass to squeeze as you feel his cock hardening between your legs.

Jake knew he was dead. There was no fucking way that this was happening and he would survive the rest of the summer around you and come out alive. Mingyu would find out and he would murder him. Not only would he lose the girl of his dreams but his own stepbrother would bury him in the backyard and tell their parents that he moved back to Australia or something. It all starts to seem like too much, not worth it… But then you moan into Jake’s mouth and his cock literally twitches in his boxers. It was worth it.

Yawning, Mingyu shakes his head as he shrugs his work bag off his shoulder and pushes the door closed with his elbow. He was exhausted from work and all he wanted to do was stay at home with you but dinner plans had been made and he knew you were looking forward to it. “Baby? I’m home. I talked to Wonwoo before I left the office. He said that he and Anna are gonna meet us at Luxe at 7 pm instead of 8.”

No answer. Glancing around through the kitchen to the living room, Mingyu furrows his brows and starts to head for the stairs when you smirk at Jake rolling your hips over his one last time. “Mmkay, Gyu. I’m finishing up laundry with Jakey and then I’ll get ready.”

Jake was freaking the fuck out. Mingyu’s voice sounded close and you were practically laughing at him as you took your time to slide off his lap and back on to the bed to pick up the discarded laundry, talking to his brother as if nothing was going on. You were too good at this; it was scary.

Meeting Jake’s eyes, you lift your brows and gesture to the towels with a nod of your head. “Unless you want to be sitting on the bed with a tent in your pants, Jakey... maybe you should take your towels to your bathroom.”

That was a good idea, brillant actually. Nodding quickly, Jake swallows the lump in his throat and picks up the folded towels, managing to unfold half the stack as he groans under his breath, slipping out of your bedroom door and down the hall away from your bedroom before Mingyu makes it halfway up the steps.

Lifting his brow to the door slamming on his left, Mingyu sighs and turns to his right and towards you. “He needs to stop slamming the fucking doors. I get why it used to piss my dad off now.” Mingyu takes in a deep breath as he sits on the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting you fold a shirt in your lap.

“You are such an old man. Leave him alone. He’s had a hard day.”

Mingyu could hear the smirk on your voice and it had him narrowing his eyes. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Just has…”

You weren’t fooling him. Mingyu knew you better than anyone. You thought you could play coy and use word play, but Mingyu saw right through it. “So that means you have been torturing him—”

“That’s so dramatic.”

“It’s what you do when you get your claws in a new plaything, but remember this one comes with strings attached.”

Turning your head to meet Mingyu’s eyes, you pout at him, letting him kiss you softly. You knew the warning was real, but you knew what you were doing. “Stop being so serious, Gyu. You said I could.”

Sighing against your lips, Mingyu nudges his nose against yours and nods. “Play fair. Just don’t break him.”

Glancing into the bedroom from across the hall, you look back into the mirror with a half smirk before picking up your perfume and spraying some on to your wrist. Mingyu was finishing up getting dressed, finishing touches just like you, but you weren’t done just yet.

“We gotta get going. Are my good socks still in the laundry room?”

Mingyu sighs, his brows furrowed as you lean your head back to tap your wrist against your neck before nodding. “I didn’t get around to bringing them up. They should be in the dryer or in one of the baskets. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

You knew that you and Mingyu might be a few minutes late, but you had heard Jake’s door open and the sound of water from down the hall. Curiosity was getting the better of you. The heat in the pit of your stomach was getting the better of you.

It had taken close to an hour for Jake’s boner to go down and it still wasn’t what he would call gone. One stray thought about you on his lap and his cock would be right back at attention so Jake’s only saving grace was that you and Mingyu were going out.

Humming along with the song playing through his phone on the bathroom counter, Jake sighs as he leans into his shower, turning on the tap. He had already heard Mingyu jog down the steps so it seemed a good time as any to jump in the shower and try to relax. Had Jake been avoiding you both since Mingyu had gotten home, absolutely, but how was he going to face his stepbrother with a tent in his pants? He could have gone into his room and rubbed one out, but that routine was starting to get old, especially after feeling the weight of you on his lap.

“Jakey?” You smile at the soft sound of Jake’s humming and water hitting the shower tiles as you push open the bathroom door carefully. The water had just started running, so you hoped you might catch Jake before he got in. Tell him goodbye. Maybe see him for just a moment to ease that fire in you but you got more than you were bargaining for. “Oh, I—”

“Shit! Y/N—I…I’m—” Turning his back to you quickly, Jake feels his heart threaten to beat out of his chest. You had already been easing back into his mind, but he hadn’t meant to practically summon you out of thin air. Any chance that he had of keeping himself from getting hard again was off the table. Jake could feel his cock coming back to life no matter how hard he willed himself to behave. “What—why? I thought you and Mingyu were going out.”

Glancing over your shoulder to the crack in the door, you bite your bottom lip before taking a step further into Jake’s bathroom, unable to convince yourself not to. “Yeah, we’re going. I was just checking on you. ‘M sorry, Jakey. Are you okay?”

Nope. No, Jake was not okay. How was this okay? How could he possibly be okay standing completely buck ass naked in front of you? Shaking his head, Jake glances over his shoulder at you and finds out quickly that is a mistake when he meets your eyes and sees your teeth pulling at your pretty bottom lip. “Fu—fuck, no. I’m—”

You could tell Jake wasn’t okay. You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what you were doing and you knew you didn’t have time to do any of it—yet here you were stepping even closer and trailing your fingers along Jake’s back near his hip. “Oh no. Can I help? Since it’s my fault?” You mimic the way Jake furrows his brows, the lust and confusion mixing together. “Please, Jake. I can help and it’ll be quick.”

“Wh—” He should say no. Jake knows that he should refuse and ask you to leave, but instead he finds himself nodding along with you. Letting out a slow, shaky breath. Jake’s brows knit together tightly when your smile turns into a smirk and you whisper his name, turning him so that his ass can rest against the bathroom counter. “This is so wrong, Y/N.”

“Shh, Jakey. Don’t talk, just enjoy it.” Brushing your lips over his, you laugh under your breath when Jake gasps against your lips, feeling your hand wrap around his mostly hard cock. He was big—bigger than you had anticipated, and you weren’t complaining. You had been with Mingyu for so long that you were used to a man who was well endowed and knew how to use his cock so it would have almost been disappointing to know that Mingyu’s little brother couldn’t hold his own. “You are so pretty, baby. God, I’ve wanted to touch you since you got here.”

It was taking everything in Jake to not groan as your hand moved over his cock. You knew what you were doing. It wasn’t like Jake was surprised that you knew how to handle cock; clearly you would, but assuming, hearing, and experiencing were all different. “You—please, Y/N. Can’t say that shit to me, not right now.”

Nipping at Jake’s lips, you pull back from him just far enough that you can watch your hand move. You marvel at the amount of pre-cum oozing from his tip that you use to make the slide of your hand easier, letting you speed up your strokes. Soft, urgent grunts mixed with your name bring another smirk to your lips as Jake’s fingers claw at the counter for something to ground him. “Why, Jakey? I’m just telling you the truth. You don’t like it? Don’t want to know all the other things I want to do before summer is over?”

Mingyu sighs, glancing around the living room and up the stairs when he doesn’t see or hear you. There was no telling what you were doing but it didn’t really matter; plans had been made and you knew that. “Baby, hurry your ass up! We are already going to be late.”

Jake was starting to panic; he had never gotten to his climax this fast in his life. The idea of you wanting to do more with him before the end of the summer had him panting for air, but then Mingyu’s voice and the reminder that he was in the house sealed his fate. Muttering your name on a breathy groan, Jake leans his head back and thrusts his hips towards your hand until his cum drips from your fingers and on to the tile floor at his feet.

Smirking, you lift your eyes from your fingers and to Jake’s eyes as you carefully unwrap your hand from his softening cock. “I’m coming, Gyu! Stop being so impatient.” Knowing that Jake is watching your every move, you lift your fingers to your lips and lick them clean before sighing. “I’ll miss you, Jakey. We’ll be home in the morning.”

Jake wants to say something, anything—that he’ll miss you, thank you for the most amazing hand job he’s ever received—but instead he just gives you the same dopey smile that he always does as you wash your hands. “Uh huh… Have fun, Y/N.”

Waving at Jake, you push his bathroom door closed and bite your lips, feeling the rush of what had happened really hit you. You were soaked, practically dripping through your panties as you made your way down the stairs, but that was the thrill of it. Meeting Mingyu’s eyes and seeing the raised brow of suspicion has you putting on a sweet, faux innocent face as you lean to put on your heels, letting him hold you steady.

“Took you long enough, darling.”

“Did it? I wasn’t the one who changed the time. If we were still meeting at 8 instead of—”

Sighing to cut off your words, Mingyu helps you stand back up straight, his eyes meeting yours before he playfully narrows them and leans to kiss you gently at first. With a nip to your lips, Mingyu hums into the kiss and groans low, almost a growl as his kiss becomes more forceful. The dampness in your panties all that more apparent as your knees buckle and his hand wraps around your waist to keep you upright against him. “You taste like cum, little slut.”

Instead of feeling shame, you rest your palm against Mingyu’s chest and smile into the kiss, causing him to groan once more. “We’re going to be late, Daddy.”

With one sharp slap to your ass, Mingyu rolls his eyes and opens the door for you, ushering you out towards the car. “Oh, I know, baby…”

Hoon: LOL later?

Jake: You know it.

That had been the plan, but then the plan went off the rails. Jake was seconds from throwing away the plan because, while Mingyu had gone “out with the boys,” you were pouting.

“Jakey I won’t bother you; I’ll just hang out with you while you play your games. That’s okay, right? I watch Gyu play games on his Xbox all the time…”

So that was how Jake found himself sitting at the small desk in his temporary room, headphones halfway on his head as you lay on your side on his bed scrolling on your phone. Glancing over his shoulder, hearing you take a deep breath, Jake quickly turns his attention back to his laptop when he hears another of his and Sunghoon’s friends, Heeseung, complain in his ear that he is letting the team suffer because he’s distracted. “Sorry…”

“We’ve barely got a chance to play since you’ve been at your brothers and now you’re dragging everyone else down, dude. Get your head straight.”

You could see the way Jake’s shoulders were tensed up. He didn’t seem to be enjoying his game. Was it your fault? Did you make it that awkward to play or was it sitting at the desk in that shitty chair? “Jake…” Trying to keep your voice low, you sit up on your elbow and lean forward, another pout forming on your lips when Jake doesn’t seem to hear you.

“Hee… Chill the fuck out. He’s been workin’, just like I have. You haven’t been up my ass about it.”

Jake appreciated Sunghoon coming to his defense when it came to this. While it wasn’t just work that had him distracted, it had played a factor. “I’m doing my best, for real, but—”

“Jakey…”

Your voice comes through a bit louder, finally getting not only Jake’s attention but those in the party with him. Turning his head towards you with his eyes widened slightly, Jake dips his head down as if it will keep the conversation more private. “Yeah? You—You okay, Y/N?”

“Who the fuck is—wait? Mingyu’s Y/N?” Hearing Heeseung say your name, the realization in his tone made Jake’s cheeks flush instantly and spread to his ears. Now he could hear the teasing in his friend’s voice. “What’s Y/N need, Jakey?”

God, Jake wanted to die right there and then, but you looked so sweet and devastatingly hot all at the same time as you lay on his bed so no amount of teasing was going to make him go anywhere.

“Oh… I’m okay. You’re so sweet.” Sitting up more, you tilt your head, letting your eyes move over Jake’s slumped shoulder and bent spine, knowing how he was leaning over his laptop just a moment before. “Your back looks like it hurts. I was just going to suggest that maybe the bed might be more comfortable? And I could see your game more. I wanted to watch... It’s hard to see all the way over here.”

“She wants to watch him game, Hoon. That’s so cute.”

Swallowing hard, Jake clears his throat and lets his eyes move over your body back up to your expectant eyes as Heeseung and Sunghoon both tease him.

“I’d move to that bed so fucking fast my laptop might not even make it.”

"Honestly, I get why you are distracted.”

“Dude, you don’t know the half—”

“What was that?” Nodding along as if he were listening to his friend’s explain something, Jake makes a sound like he is disappointed before putting a faux pout on his face. “Really? That’s too bad, Hoon. We can play again later.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, man?”

Watching Jake turn back around to his laptop, you lean back on the pillow as Jake mutters under his breath, hoping you can’t hear him. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll text you guys later.” Without waiting for more response than a sigh or a huff, Jake ends the party call and exits his game with an exaggerated shrug. “Hoon had to get off so...”

You weren’t stupid; you could tell Jake was lying, but you also weren’t going to call him out on it—not this time. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jakey. What are you gonna do now? Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Blowing out a slow breath, Jake puts his headphones on his desk and looks towards the open door. “I—sure. We could go downstairs—”

“No! We could just use your laptop, silly goose.” Turning to sit on your butt, you pat the bed beside you before adjusting the pillows against the headboard, waiting for Jake to join you. “I love watching things in bed. Mingyu and I do it all the time; it’s so cozy and fun.”

Fun. That’s not the word that Jake would use for something like this. Torturous would be a good word and yet he managed to force a smile and pick up his laptop to move over to the bed with you. Keeping a good distance, Jake sits back against the headboard and puts the laptop between the two of you, opening one of the many streaming apps he has borrowed from Mingyu, gesturing for you to go ahead.

"Well, that isn’t very cozy, Jakey.” Sighing as you pick up the laptop, you wiggle closer to Jake to put the laptop on his thighs before curling against his side. Only when you are snug against him do you start to run your finger over the trackpad to scroll through the site and search for a movie.

It was bad enough that Jake had you pressed up against him, but now he had the reminder of your hand on his lap as you slowly scrolled through movies and sighed, seemingly disappointed with every single one. “Anything is fine, Y/N.”

“But it’s not. They are all so boring. I don’t want to be bored.” Meeting Jake’s eyes, you give him the same pout that you have had on display since Mingyu walked out the door for boy’s night. “Why are you trying to bore me?”

Gasping in disbelief at your question, Jake furrows his brows and shifts against you. “I—what? I’m not. We can watch whatever you want. I’m not going to bore—”

“Okay, do you just look things up on Twitter, or are you more of a pay-for-porn kinda guy?”

Stunned once again by your question, Jake stares at you until you meet his eyes, a smirk growing on your lips until you look back at his laptop.

“You strike me as a Twitter guy. Mingyu’s a Twitter guy too…”

Jake’s brain is misfiring; he doesn’t remember how to function or what words are until his eyes move back to his laptop screen to see you scrolling through his Twitter. You weren’t wrong, not even close to it. He was shocked at how easily you read right through him, but the shock wears off when he sees you click on his profile and then likes. “Woah, Y/N!”

Sliding the laptop from Jake’s lap and onto yours when he panics, you bite down on your bottom lip as you scroll. “Interesting.” Taking note of the types of videos that Jake took the time to press the like button on, you lift your legs, keeping Jake’s fingers from siding underneath the laptop. “I like seeing what you are into. Tits and thighs, typical... but you sure do like watching girls get eaten out, Jakey.”

Clearing his throat, Jake shifts uncomfortably beside you before shrugging at your commentary. “I—what guy doesn’t.”

“That’s fair, but isn’t eating pussy yourself better than watching someone else do it? Don’t you get bored fucking your hand? I mean, baby... You keep treating yourself like a priest; you aren’t gonna know how to handle a pussy the next time you see one. You won’t know how to go down on a girl.” You were being cruel and you could see the shift in Jake’s eyes. Finally, he looked annoyed. How long were you going to have to push and poke until he finally took?

“I don’t just watch, Y/N. I know how to handle pussy just fucking fine; better than fine, I’ll have you know.” Who did you think he was? A virgin who had never made a girl cry on his tongue before? Jake had girls begging him to fuck them but they bored him; he had already explained this to you; maybe you just needed a demonstration.

“Sure, okay, Jakey!” The last syllable of Jake’s name comes out an octave higher when Jake narrows his eyes at you and finally takes the laptop out of your lap before putting you on your back. “Fuck…”

“You talk so much, Y/N. You are always teasing me and I keep telling you this is fucked up, but I can’t—” Humming into a groan, Jake grips your thighs as he kneels between them, letting his eyes move up your body. He had dreamt about this exact thing countless nights. This didn’t feel real seeing you on his bed on your back in front of him at his whim. “Tell me no.”

Taking a deep breath, you smile at Jake’s words as you enjoy the feeling of his hands through your leggings. He was shaking slightly and you could tell he was trying to hold himself back. He wanted you to tell him no—give him any reason to walk away, but why in the fuck would you do that when you were finally getting something you wanted? “Mmm, please, Jakey? I’ll never tell you no.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” Pushing any thoughts of Mingyu from his head, Jake slides his hands to the waistband of your leggings. You weren’t only giving him permission; you were lifting your hips; you were wiggling your hips side to side as he worked your leggings down your perfect thighs. “You are so goddamn gorgeous. You’re ruining me.”

That was the first time that Jake made your stomach twist, but not with fear or worry but instead with desire as it mixed with pure lust. That was something that Mingyu would make you feel, but nothing that he could ever say to you. There was nothing you could do that could ruin Mingyu. He had ruined you. You had been a sweet, innocent rose until you met Kim Mingyu and now you were happily tainting something of your own. “Yeah? You want me to, Jake?”

Pressing his lips against your thigh, Jake groans not only to the feeling of your soft skin against his lips but also to your words. He was already struggling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants, but if you kept that up, he would cum untouched. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. I want that, Angel.”

You could get used to that, Angel. Jake was so sweet, even as he whispered curses under his breath, his fingers working their way back up from your ankles to your thighs as you spread your legs. “You are such a good boy. You gonna prove something to me?”

Licking his lips, Jake has to force his eyes from your panties and the damp spot at the center so he can meet your eyes. “Mm, yeah. Can I? That okay?” Jake had a feeling he didn’t need permission; perhaps you didn’t even really want him to ask for it, but he wanted it. Scooting down in the bed, he groans, massaging his fingers into your soft skin and taking in a deep breath of you. He had stolen so many pairs of panties that looked just like the ones you were wearing now, but none of them had looked, smelled, or probably tasted as good as they did while you were wearing them. “Please, Angel. I’m good at it, I swear.”

There was no doubt in your mind that Jake would be good at eating you out. You were soaked from anticipation, but meeting Jake’s puppy dog eyes from between your thighs as he begged you for permission had you clenching around nothing. “Fuck. Of course, Jakey. Show me how good you are, hm?”

That was all Jake needed to hear. Your words were like a dinner bell and his meal had been in front of him like a puppy waiting for a treat. Burying his face against your clothed pussy, Jake groans quietly at first, his thumbs pressing hard into your thighs to keep your legs spread. You were heaven, truly his angel, and your pussy was his one gift from God. He wasn’t going to waste it.

Just when you were about to tell Jake to do something, anything, the warmth of his tongue through the cotton of your panties rendered you silent. Instead, you sigh his name and run your fingers through Jake’s hair, furrowing your brows as he groans louder, able to taste you when your panties mold to your wet folds.

“So sweet, fuck, angel. Trying to savor this, but—” Jake wasn’t lying; he wanted to enjoy every sensation—the taste of your panties on his tongue, your skin, your cum, your fingers in his hair—but he was already rutting his hips into his bed from just a few swipes of his tongue over your pussy and he hadn’t even seen it yet. He had to see you—really see you. Pulling the center of your panties to the side, Jake rests his cheek against your thigh, almost in awe of how perfect you are. “Unfuckingbelievable. I only get this probably one goddamn time—”

“Better make it worth it then, huh?” Mingyu had come home probably twenty minutes ago. He had started to call out to you or Jake to see where you were, but the moans and groans told him everything he needed to know. He had been missing you. You had looked so sad when he left so he had cut his boy's night short and now he came home to find you in a much better mood with his stepbrother between your legs looking at you like a three-course meal. At least he had been, until Mingyu had spoken and all the color had drained from Jake’s face when he met his eyes as Mingyu leaned against the doorframe.

“I—Mingyu—it’s not! I’m not tryin—I didn't mean to—I’m so sorry!”

Jake really was the cutest boy you had ever seen in your entire life and Mingyu had the worst fucking timing you had ever seen. Leaning your head back in annoyance as Jake sits up quickly, you whine loudly before meeting Mingyu’s eyes as he smirks at you and then shifts his eyes to Jake as he tries to side back on the bed before falling off of it and having to quickly stand up.

“Didn’t mean to what? Bury your face in my girlfriend’s cunt?" Shrugging, Mingyu looks at you again for clarification and you know he’s going to be even more annoying before this goes the way you want it to. “How does one accidentally do that? Did you trip and fall into her pussy face first? Is that what happened, sweetheart? Did Jakey stumble into your slutty little cunt?”

Sighing loudly, you sit up in the bed and reach your hand out to Jake, who gives you a shocked, scared face, only shaking his head as if you don’t also see Mingyu in the room. “He’s being an asshole, Jake. Come back, baby…”

“I might be being an asshole, but I’m enjoying it and I wanted to know the answer because it’s entertaining.”

Opening his mouth, no words come out as Jake looks from you to Mingyu and back when Mingyu moves to kiss you and you slap him playfully, making him laugh. Was this some sort of joke? Was Jake the joke? “I don’t unde—I don’t get what’s happening right now.”

Taking an exaggerated breath, Mingyu doesn’t meet Jake’s eyes as he speaks; he instead sits down beside you and slides his hand along your inner thigh. “I know, you’re behind and I told Y/N not to torture you, but she doesn’t listen well. Do you?” When a gasp slips from your lips as Mingyu’s hand comes down hard on your thigh, his lips pull up in a smirk. “I know, baby. You really are just a needy little slut, right? Can’t keep your hands to yourself?”

If everything leading up to this moment had been a wet dream, now Jake was stuck in a fever dream. This was worse. He could run away. He could run right out the door, down the steps, and out the door and forget any of this happened, but Jake couldn’t take his eyes off Mingyu’s hand as he traced the same path he had taken earlier, leading up to where Jake wanted to be most.

“You are soaked, darling. I know that isn’t all for me. Was Jake doing a good job?” Nodding along with you, Mingyu smirks barely pushing his fingers between your wet folds, feeling two sets of eyes on him. “And I was mean and interrupted him? Such a bad guy, huh?”

“Yeah, that was mean. Let me have him.” You pout at Mingyu, lifting your hips towards his finger until he shakes his head, causing you to start to whine before his hand comes down hard on your thigh again, leaving it hot. “Please! ‘M sorry, daddy! Please? Please, can I play with him? He’s like a puppy.”

That made Jake’s mouth feel dry—not just your words and hearing you call him a puppy, but watching Mingyu’s hand slap your thigh over and over again. He’d never have the strength to do that to you, but seeing it be done to you... Pre-cum was dripping down his thighs and he was barely holding back his whines.

“You want a pet that bad, sweetheart?” Looking towards Jake, Mingyu smirks, seeing him practically drooling over you. He understood why. You were perfection, especially when you were like this, all laid out and wanting. Meeting your eyes once again, Mingyu nods along with you and mocks your whines before cooing in faux sympathy and patting his hand over your wet pussy after putting your panties back in place. “Fine, but we aren’t staying in this tiny ass room and this bed. We are moving the party.”

Whining once again, you lean your head back, hearing Mingyu laugh at your reaction. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just stay where you were. You and Jake had been doing just fine, but then he had rudely interrupted.

“You see the shit I have to deal with on a daily fucking basis?” Rolling his eyes, Mingyu moves to one knee, sliding one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, pulling you into his arms. “And this is the woman you fantasize about? A bratty little princess…”

Nodding quickly, Jake swallows hard and moves towards you and Mingyu. “I–-you want me to carry her? I don’t mind.” He knows he sounds pathetic, too eager but the pleased look on your face makes it worth it, even as Mingyu scoffs at your reaction.

“You have him whipped, sweetheart.” Shaking his head, Mingyu laughs under his breath as Jake waits for him to make up his mind. “Tell you what, Jake, I’ll carry her this time. Wouldn’t want to risk you dropping her. Hit the gym with me a few times and then we can talk about it.” Not waiting for Jake’s reaction, Mingyu narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lean your head back on his arm, enjoying the attention. “He’d fucking crawl to the bed if you asked him to. Are you pleased with yourself?”

It only takes a few long strides from Mingyu for you to bed in your bedroom and to be laid on your own bed. Smirking up at him, you bite gently on your bottom lip and nod in response to his question. “Incredibly pleased. I’d love to watch him crawl. You’d never do it for me.”

Scoffing once again at your words, Mingyu’s brows furrow. "No, I fucking wouldn’t but I’d make you crawl until your knees are sore.” You had gotten so cocky he might just make you do it and not make such an empty threat, but the sound of the wooden floor creaking reminds him that the two of you aren’t alone. “Come here, Jake.”

This was fucking torture. You had been torturing Jake before, but Mingyu was doing something else. Jake had been ready to eat you out and then he had been ready to carry you, but then his fucking brother had taken both of those things away from him only to keep them dangling like a promise in front of his face. Biting at his cheek, Jake moves closer to the bed when Mingyu speaks to him, even as his heart beats hard in his chest, causing his head to feel heavy with each loud thump. “Y–yeah?”

Meeting Jake’s eyes, Mingyu rests his hand next to your waist, still leaning over you. “If we are doing this, you do as you are told, got it? Don’t make me fucking regret it. I don’t want to hear about you fucking my girlfriend from your horny little friends.” Jake nods, but that isn’t enough for Mingyu. You and Jake watch as he takes a deep breath and stands up straight in front of his stepbrother, tilting his head. “What did I say?”

Had Mingyu always been that fucking tall and wide? Opening his mouth once and closing it, Jake’s eyes widen before he nods again and lifts his hands. “You said to do as I’m told and not to talk to my friends about it!” Shaking his head quickly, Jake starts to panic, his eyes moving from Mingyu to you and back. “I swear, dude.”

Smacking Jake’s shoulder hard, Mingyu feels Jake move a good inch and a half from the force as he smirks at him and his understanding. “Good, I believe you. I know you like Y/N, but I love her. There’s a difference. That’s all I’m gonna say.” Clapping his hands together, a smile on his face, Mingyu turns to look at you, seeing a fond smile on your face even though you try to look annoyed. “Let’s fuck, huh? Jake, shirt off. Give her something to look at while you eat.”

You wanted to keep that same look on your face but the moment that Mingyu tells Jake to take off his shirt and moves to slide the chair from the corner of the room closer to the bed, you fail. Instead of looking half annoyed, you look hungry as Jake nods, his shirt quickly being pulled over his head before he shakes his hair back out, letting it settle around his face. “God… He’s so fucking cute.”

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu sinks into the chair beside the bed and lets out a deep breath as you ogle Jake. You were rubbing your thighs together like a cat in heat; it was pathetic and had Mingyu’s cock rock hard in his jeans. “Yeah? You like him that much? Take your panties off, sweetheart. Hand ‘em here.” Leaning forward to take the lace from your fingers, Mingyu smirks when he meets your eyes. “Good girl, now you lay back and let Jakey eat. I think he deserves a good meal after all the shit you’ve been putting him through, don’t you?”

Falling back against the pillows, you pout at Mingyu even though you know he’s right. You had been putting Jake through it for the past few weeks and over the last few days you had only amplified your teasing. “Yes, daddy.” Spreading your legs, you attempt and fail to hide your smirk when you hear Jake curse under his breath at seeing you laid out in front of him.

Jake wished you were completely naked, but this was pretty damn good. Your shirt was pushed up near your tits and he could see how wet you really were without your panties in the way. You were literally dripping onto the comforter and Jake’s mouth was watering so much that he was having to swallow his saliva in order to keep himself from drooling.

“You gonna fucking stare all night or are you gonna get in there? Do you know how to—”

“He said he knew how. Didn’t you, baby?” Lifting your hand, you gesture Jake closer to you, happy to see him follow your wishes as he crawls on to the bed, moving to his knees between your legs. “He said he was good at it. Right? Gonna show me and be a good pet?”

Nodding quickly, Jake whispers your name, his brows furrowed. He loved this. This was better than anything else he had ever experienced in anyone’s bed. Jake could have a girl choking on his cock and he wouldn’t feel as high as he did right now with how you were looking at him and talking to him. “Fuck—mhm. So good for you, angel.” Scooting down in the bed, Jake wraps his arms around your legs, one pulling you closer at your hip and the other resting on your stomach as his mouth hovers over your pussy. “You smell so fucking good.”

You knew that Mingyu was watching you and Jake closely. It made everything better, from running your fingers through Jake’s hair to feeling his nose nudge against your clit for the first time—Mingyu’s eyes burning your skin heightened the experience. "Ah, do I? You like it that much, Jakey?”

Groaning so deep in his chest that his body shakes, Jake nods to answer your question before he gives in and finally uses his tongue to spread your folds apart. He knew it would be life changing but he hadn’t expected his entire body to react. From his head to his toes, Jake felt like he was standing beside a live wire and the worst part was his cock. He knew as he buried his face against your soft lips and let his tongue explore that he wasn’t stopping the inevitable. Pushing his hips hard against the mattress, Jake grunts and hisses against your pussy, listening to how you whimper his name, causing him to cum untouched.

Mingyu knew that desperate feeling—he could see the way Jake was humping his bed and practically eating you alive. It had been a long time since Mingyu had experienced it himself, but if anyone was going to make someone cum in their fucking pants, it’d be you. “You better make her fucking cum since you didn’t wait or ask.”

Tightening his grip around your hips, Jake leans back to take a breath. His eyes meet Mingyu’s for a split second as he acknowledges what he had said before his mouth is right back on you. Jake wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and he was dying to make you cum. You tasted too fucking good for him to stop anyway. If Jake could die between your legs, that’d be the way to fucking go. He’d go out of this world the happiest man that ever lived.

“So good, Jake! Oh, my god…” Throwing your head back, you whine as you tighten your fingers in Jake’s hair, feeling him trying even harder than he had been after Mingyu opened his mouth. You weren’t in a rush. You were enjoying having such a handsome boy between your legs and having his mouth on you. You didn’t know why Mingyu was so insistent that you had to cum right in that moment, but Jake was on a mission now and your body was giving in. “Fuck! There! Right there, baby! Don’t stop!”

If there was one thing that Jake had learned from other girls, it was if they told him where to go and not to stop—he kept going and he stayed where he was. Sucking hard on your clit, Jake only releases long enough to take a breath, humming in the process and sending a vibration through you that sends you barreling over the edge. Thighs close around his head and Jake slides his palms along your soft legs, enjoying the feeling, not caring that his lungs are screaming for air because the moment that he feels lightheaded, your ass falls back to the bed.

Taking a deep breath of your own as you come down from your orgasm, you reach back between your legs to guide Jake to rest his head on your stomach. Eyes closed, you lick your lips and run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of Jake’s warm breath and wet lips against your skin. “You are so good.”

“And as cute as watching you two cuddle is—” Mingyu smirks against his fingers as he moves his eyes over you and Jake. He wasn’t lying; he had enjoyed it all, from watching you cum on Jake’s face to wondering if Jake was going to make it from between your thighs alive, but enough was enough. “Get the rest of her clothes off, and yours.” Standing up from his chair, Mingyu stretches his neck from side to side before he tugs his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “Then look in the bedside table and grab a condom.”

Feeling Jake slide from your hands, you pout into a whine but it’s quickly replaced by a smile when he grabs your hand, helping you sit up.

“I’m not leaving you.” Biting his lip, Jake lets his eyes linger on your lips for a few seconds before sliding his hands along your sides, pushing your shirt up your torso. “I really want to kiss you again.”

Lifting your arms, you let Jake slip the shirt over your head, a groan escaping his lips once he realized that was the only layer left keeping him from the rest of you. “Then why aren’t you kissing me?”

“Because he’s supposed to be getting naked and getting rid of his cum-stained pants, Y/N. Stop fucking distracting him and get your ass over here.” Shaking his head as he kicks his pants and boxers from his foot, Mingyu sighs watching you pout at him. “Whose damn bedroom is this?”

Crawling across the bed towards Mingyu, you glance back at Jake, feeling his eyes move along your body as his thumbs press into the top of his sweatpants. It isn’t until you are close enough to Mingyu that his hand is on your jaw, turning your face back towards him, that your attention is fully back on him. “Ah… Yours. ‘M sorry.” You weren’t scared of Mingyu. He was rough with you, but only because he knew that you liked it. You had begged for it when the two of you had first gotten together and he had teased you with the idea. Now you were spoiled with it.

He wasn’t sure if he believed you were sorry, but Mingyu smirked anyway when you apologized. Sliding his thumb along the column of your neck, he presses ever so slightly, feeling you swallow under his grip as he takes a step towards the bed, knowing you won’t move until he tells you to. “That’s right, it is mine, and who do you belong to?”

Swallowing hard once again as Mingyu’s hand wraps around your neck loosely like a necklace, you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You were already wet from cumming once, but you were leaking down your thighs at the feeling of his hand on your throat. "You, I belong to you.”

Jake was swallowing hard too watching Mingyu with you like this. It was like getting whiplash. With you, Jake wanted to do everything little thing you said, but then Mingyu spoke and you were like putty, ready to be molded. Jake just watched and admired you both in awe. He’d never have the guts to talk to you like that. He wouldn’t want to. You were were precious to him and he couldn’t get off on it the way he could hearing Mingyu do it…

“Whose bedroom is this, Jake?”

Fuck, it was as if thinking about him had reminded Mingyu that Jake was in the room. Jake’s eyes widen at the question and he moves to the bedside table, picking up a condom as he answers. “Yours, Gyu.” Barely meeting Mingyu’s eyes, he moves back towards the bed and turns the foil square over in his fingers out of nerves.

“Damn straight it is, and she’s mine. I’m being generous, Jake. What do you say to me?” Looking up from your eyes to meet Jake’s, Mingyu lifts his brows and waits until Jake straightens his back and nods.

“Th—thank you.”

Sliding his fingers back up your neck to your jaw, Mingyu tilts his head carefully, leaning your head back so he can look into your eyes. “How do you want to do this? One at a time?” He should have known you wouldn’t like that suggestion when you pout up at him and shake your head. “No? Such a slut… Fine. You want someone in this hole?” Letting go of your neck, Mingyu leans over your body to slide his hand between your asscheeks, feeling your body go slack under him.

“Nuh, uh... not tonight. Can’t I just—both of you?” You knew what you wanted, and you knew it was a lot to ask and to handle, but the look on Mingyu’s face and the sound of Jake’s breath made it worth it.

“Shit… Say it if that’s what you want. Gotta be able to ask for something properly like a big girl if you want something like that, sweetheart.” It wasn’t like Mingyu didn’t know exactly what you wanted and from the look on Jake’s face, he did too. In that moment, Mingyu was wondering if Jake had ever done something like that. It wasn’t like Mingyu had done it often, but for you, he had done a lot of things he never thought he would do.

Whining Mingyu’s name, you fall on your stomach and pout as you roll to your side, looking up at him and feeling his fingers brush over your cheek. You were being a brat and not exactly acting like a “big girl,” but this was half the fun. Watching Mingyu’s brows raise and seeing the smirk on his lips has you blowing out a breath. “Fine. I want you both at the same time.”

That wasn’t exactly what Mingyu had meant, but it was a start. His smirk growing a bit bigger, he nods along with your words before glancing up at Jake. “She wants us both at the same time. Know what that means?” When Jake doesn’t answer right away, instead he takes a breath and nods as if he might explode. Mingyu laughs, grabbing your arms and turning you on your back, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Means she wants us to stuff her pussy full of both of our cocks, Jakey, ‘cause she’s a greedy little whore tonight.”

Jake’s eyes fall from Mingyu to you as his cock twitches almost violently at the thought. That was something else Jake wasn’t ready to do—call you degrading names; to him, you were this perfect angel. It didn’t matter how many cocks you wanted in you at the same time; you’d still be his angel, and he’d make sure you were filled to the brim.

Shaking his head, Mingyu smirks down at you as you try to feign innocence after being called a whore. You weren't fooling him in the slightest, but he could play along for the fun of it. “Do you both need to be walked through it?” Letting out a breath, Mingyu tilts his head, watching a smile pull at your pretty lips. “My poor girl, already fucked dumb by some tongue? Can you take one cock in this cunt?” Tsking as he palms your wet pussy, he carefully pushes two fingers into you, feeling you instantly clench down on him. “How can you take two?”

“I—oh fuck!” Rolling your hips over Mingyu’s fingers, you dig your fingers into his bicep, throwing your head back to the feeling of him finding your spot almost immediately. “Please? I can. You know I can.”

Mingyu tilts his head to the other side, listening to the wet sounds of his fingers fucking into you almost brutally. “I know a lot of things, baby.” Glancing over his shoulder to Jake, who still looks dumbstruck, Mingyu rolls his eyes and gestures towards the bed. “Sit beside her on the bed. Once I make sure she can handle us, you can be under her. Don’t say I’ve never given you anything.”

Watching a third finger being worked into your tight pussy, Jake groans under his breath as he quickly nods and moves to your side, swallowing hard. You were moaning so sweetly as you dripped down Mingyu’s hand. Jake was so hungry again. All he wanted to do was beg Mingyu to crawl back between your thighs and lick you clean; maybe Mingyu would even let him have what was left over on his hand, but fuck that was insane—but it seemed like such a waste to see it left on his hand. “Feel good, beautiful? You full?”

Jake seemed shy as he spoke to you, but that made it even sexier. You could hear the slight lisp drawing out the end of his sentence that reminded you of Mingyu, and that only made you push down harder on Mingyu’s fingers. Nodding quickly, you turn your head towards Jake and whine his name as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, urging him towards you, feeling his fingers slide over your stomach towards your breast, where he timidly circles one of your nipples, enjoying the feeling of the pert bud.

"Ah—Jakey, if you don’t kiss me right now..." Moaning, your head falls back, drawing both sets of eyes to your face. You smile and lick your lips as another wave of pleasure rips through your body, finding yourself on the edge of your orgasm. "Jake, I won’t let you fuck me if you don’t kiss me.”

Fingers cup the side of your head, pulling you back upright as your lips are brought to Jake’s urgently, causing Mingyu to scoff in amusement. You were good at getting what you wanted when you wanted it. Jake wasn’t immune to that at all; it seemed as his tongue glided over yours and his cock leaked obscenely on his thigh to just the taste of your mouth.

“Two sluts.” Pushing down on your thigh, Mingyu circles your clit with his thumb, making you whine loudly into Jake’s mouth. He knew you were cumming. He had felt you cum around his fingers, tongue, and cock so many times that he could almost tell when you were closer easier than he could sense his own climax. “Give it to me, Y/N—” Smirking, Mingyu quickens the thrusts of his fingers, mimicking your words back to you. “Or I won’t fuck you.”

While you knew Mingyu was lying, there was almost no way to stop your orgasm as it hit you in waves, his fingers not slowing down until you closed your thighs around his hand. “Ah—enough, Gyu.” The feeling of Mingyu’s thumb on your clit had become almost painful as your thighs tensed and jerked at the slightest touch.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, feeling Jake’s eyes following his every move, Mingyu smirks around his fingers as he sucks them clean. “Can’t handle it, sweetheart? You still want our cocks?” He knew the answer before you even started whining, but even if you had said no, Mingyu wouldn’t have been disappointed, and he had a feeling that Jake would have gotten over it eventually too. You were already tired, and what you were asking for was going to ruin you, but you were greedy. “Alright, baby, come here.”

You let Mingyu lift you in his arms, taking the time to rest and have your body moved into place. You only realize that Jake is lying where you were when Mingyu ushers you onto his lap. Smiling at him, you press your lips to Jakes and slide your hips forward, furrowing your brows to the feeling of the latex against your skin before you break the kiss to pout. “Don’t need it.”

Jake groans under his breath as you trail a finger along his shaft over the condom. At first he’s confused by your words until you look back at Mingyu and continue to pout at your boyfriend, who climbs back onto the bed behind you to look between your legs.

“It’s just a condom, Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Don’t complain; be grateful. He is…”

That wasn’t a lie. Jake was incredibly grateful. Did he want to be inside you raw? God yes, but he was just stunned; he was still sitting under you right now, knowing he was getting to fuck you.

Meeting Jake’s eyes, you pout at him before sighing and leaning to kiss him again. You feel your hips being lifted by Mingyu as he runs his fingers through your wet folds. “Mmm, stop teasing me, Gyu. Wanna be full. Put it in, Jakey…” Running your nails along Jake’s neck, you smile at him, staying close to his face as Mingyu smirks behind you, squeezing at your hips and watching you leak over Jake’s thighs. “You wanna fuck me, puppy? Put your cock in me.”

“Fuc—” Hissing between his teeth, Jake squeezes the base of his cock as he looks over your shoulder, meeting Mingyu’s eyes as his stepbrother nods, giving him the okay. “Yeah, yeah, I wanna fuck you, angel.” While you were good at pushing Mingyu’s buttons, Jake was hearing his words over and over in his head and being reminded to be grateful, and as you sank down on his cock, he had never been more grateful in his life. “Oh, my fuckin’ god.”

Resting your forehead against Jake’s, you whine as he bottoms out in you. It felt good; you could feel full if you wanted to. This would satisfy you, but you knew there was more waiting for you. You knew it was a bit insane to be sitting on a rather large cock as you had an even bigger one waiting for you. “Please—ah…”

Mingyu wasn’t a believer in letting someone adjust. Adjusting meant you could get used to what you had, and in this situation that meant your body might just want Jake’s cock and you had asked for two. Fingers tightly holding your hip, Mingyu bites at his bottom lip as he nudges the head of his cock at your tight hole, pushing in next to Jake’s cock. At first the resistance makes him wonder if he had stretched you enough, but the moment his head slips in and you sob out his name, the rest seems like a dream. “Holy shit, baby... You are so goddamn tight like this.”

Both men knew that it wasn’t just your walls clenching around them that made it tight, but their cocks pressed together, but that was something Jake was trying very hard not to think about as Mingyu groaned low and pulled your hips down over them. It felt good—great even—but there was something that kept it from being perfect—though Jake wasn’t going to complain. Instead of Jake being the one to complain about it, first it was you; even though Mingyu’s brows furrow, feeling the latex against his cock, making the slide almost uncomfortable.

“Gyu… It’s not—” Shaking your head, you push down over both of them, trying to push past the feeling of both of them not feeling the same inside of you. No matter how wet you were, something didn’t feel right. “The fucking condom. I told you. Why don’t you ever listen—”

Pressing his lips against your shoulder, Mingyu rolls his eyes and thrusts up hard into you from behind, hearing you cry out in pleasure just as Jake whines to the feeling. He could make it feel good; it could work, but your complaining and the fucking feeling of that condom against him... “Fine! You fucking brat.”

Jake hadn’t expected Mingyu to suddenly pull out of you, so when he did—bringing him with him—it not only left him wide-eyed but gasping for a deep breath. “What the—”

“She gets everything she wants." Grumbling under his breath, Mingyu shakes his head, and with one tight stroke from base to tip, he rolls the condom from Jake’s cock and tosses it on to the floor. “There, everyone fuckin’ happy?” When Jake just stares at him in shock, Mingyu rolls his eyes and looks back down, muttering once again. “Making me regret this. Put it back in, dude.” Even though he tells Jake to do it himself, he doesn’t wait; instead he pushes forward, letting you rest on Jake’s chest as he lines Jake back up with your entrance and then himself before slowly pulling you back down over them both like a toy. “That better, princess? Everyone fuckin’ happy?”

You were happier, but you could also tell that despite the display and dramatics that Mingyu was too. From the way he was fucking you to the groans coming from his chest, everything about this was better. “Uh huh, god, it’s so much better. Harder, daddy.”

Meanwhile, under you, Jake was trying not to lose his mind completely. From what had just happened to feeling you on his cock like you were now, he couldn’t help but thrust up into you, matching Mingyu’s movements. He was chasing his high now as he teetered on the edge of a cliff with your name slipping from his lips like a prayer. “Plea—please, I gotta... I’m gonna cum. Can I cum?”

You enjoyed hearing Jake begging to cum. Mingyu had never asked you before; it was always the other way around, so this was different and empowering. Gasping between moans, you nod and scratch lightly at Jake’s chest before glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, who smirks at you holding your hips tightly. "Oh, yes, baby. You can cum. Nothing stopping you now; I want you to fill me up!” Feeling Mingyu’s hand come down hard on your ass, a possessive growl slipping from between his teeth, you reach a hand back to find his as you meet Jake’s eyes. “Can you do that for me, hm?”

Mingyu hated the idea of someone else cumming inside of you, but as he linked his fingers with yours and pulled your arm behind your back, he couldn’t help but lift his brow to how this was making him feel this time. Maybe it was okay this time. He could handle it once with Jake. Maybe it was because he was inside of you too, and he could fuck the cum out of you and replace it with his own. Yeah, that had to be it. “Do it, Jake. Don’t make her wait. Don’t make me wait.”

He didn’t want to make either of you wait, or himself at this point. The moment that Jake has permission, he lets go. Soft groans slip from his lips as he spills cum into you with each deep thrust. “So good, fuck—wait." Jake wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen once he had finished; he didn’t think he would outlast you or Mingyu, but what came next hadn’t occurred to him. All he did know was that now his cock was starting to soften inside of you and Mingyu wasn’t slowing down. With each thrust into you, Mingyu was overstimulating Jake and had him digging his heels into the mattress as he held on to your waist tightly, begging for mercy.

“You wanted this, Jakey. Now we get to finish.” Groaning, Mingyu throws his head back and chuckles as you clench down on both of them again, your eyes closed. “You feel that? She’s gonna cum. You didn’t wanna last long enough to feel her cum around your cock? Pathetic, pup.”

That was so far from the truth. That was all Jake wanted to feel, but now he was afraid his cock was going to fall off before he ever felt it, but as soon as the thought comes to him, you let out the hottest sound that he’s ever heard. Cum drips onto Jake’s thighs and down onto the comforter as you go limp between him and Mingyu, relying on mostly Mingyu to keep you upright as he grins against the shell of your ear.

“Such a good fucking girl. I’m right there; keep being a good girl. Shit—ahh, baby.” Gasping into a groan, Mingyu tightens his arm around your waist as he follows you and Jake over that edge and finally makes you feel as full as you’ve wanted to be all night.

Waking up to the feeling of fingers brushing over your cheek, you whine and lean into the touch, causing Jake to smile as he rests on his side beside of you in the bed.

“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous. You feel okay?” Jake had been watching you sleep for a while now. After you had passed out, Mingyu had assured him that was okay and you were okay. He had helped Mingyu get you cleaned up and back into bed, and now he was tasked with keeping a close eye on you while Mingyu cooked food.

“Mm…” Nodding, you lazily wiggle closer to Jake, burying your head against his bare chest, feeling him take a deep breath to the feeling. “”M tired. Where’s Gyu?” You weren’t lying; you were exhausted, even after your impromptu nap. You could tell that it was late, but the growl from your stomach causes you to pout. You glance up at Jake, finding him staring at you still. “Why are you looking at me like that, Jakey?”

The entire evening had felt surreal, but this—this felt like a dream until Jake lifted his hand and ran it over your head, feeling you tuck against him once again. This was bittersweet and was sort of making Jake’s chest hurt, and yet there was nowhere else he wanted to be. “Um, Mingyu’s making some food. We got you cleaned up, did the same for ourselves, and he told me to watch over you.” Clearing his throat, Jake furrows his brows and lets out a mostly believable chuckle. “I just—I don’t know, this is different. I thought I’d get tossed out and we’d forget this happened, or he’d hate me.”

Shifting in Jake’s arms, you sigh, having to use more strength than you’d like and that you really have to sit up so you can meet his eyes. When Jake frowns at you and moves to sit up so you can have more support, you offer him a smile before finally speaking. “First of all, weird as it is in this context, you are family, and we aren’t going to toss you out. Secondly, I enjoy you a lot. Mingyu clearly enjoyed that. We don’t do that on a whim, Jake. Yes, I was a tease, and I was playing with you, but I don’t do that with just anyone and often.”

Swallowing hard, Jake nods and looks down at your hand before tracing your fingers with his to both distract and focus himself as he thinks before speaking. “Okay, so this wasn’t just an experimental thing? Like a one off?”

You turn slightly against Jake, taking your hand from him to push his hair from over his eye, enjoying the way his hair has a slight curl. “Not unless you want it to be. I mean, clearly, you are going to be going back to school so you have your own life, but you are always welcome with us.”

“Because she always gets what she wants.” Sighing loudly, Mingyu moves into the room towards the bed with the same tray that Jake had found a couple of weeks ago. Placing it on the bed, he gestures towards the food he had made—some chicken and rice with vegetables on the side—before he sits on the other side of you, offering Jake a fork. “No sense in denying her at this point. Happy wife, happy life, or whatever that saying is.”

Taking the fork from Mingyu, Jake gives you both a confused look before laughing and shaking his head. He starts cutting into a piece of chicken as Mingyu offers you some rice. “This is fucked up, you know?”

While you shrug, not caring about what others think, Mingyu nods, swallowing a bite of food before he wipes his mouth clean and sighs into his words. “Yes, it is. Which is why there are rules. Same that apply from before we did this. Don’t tell your stupid, horny friends or anyone else. I can take away the fun just as easy as I gave permission, got it?”

Swallowing a bite of chicken harder than was probably necessary, Jake feels the burn in his throat as he meets Mingyu’s eyes and nods. He didn’t want to fuck this up. He wasn’t even sure what this was, but he had gotten what he wanted when you lean to kiss the corner of his lips. Where this would lead, he didn’t know, but he had a good idea it was back in your bed sooner rather than later.

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

#mingyu smut #jake smut #seventeen smut #enhypen smut #svthub #dovenet #svnet #mingyu x reader #jake x reader #seventeen x reader #enhypen x reader #mingyu angst #jake angst #mingyu toxic #jake toxic #mingyu fluff #jake fluff #mingyu comedy #jake comedy

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shego1142 · 19 hours ago

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In regards to doctors not knowing certain things and withholding care to save face, it definitely happens, is happening right now, will happen again and again. I’ve literally had doctors do exactly that with multiple different instances, at different doctors offices.

The second it’s obvious that I know that they got something wrong and I’m not their stupid little puppet to play god with, it’s like a war zone trying to get any care, any reference to any other doctor, anything.

It’s led to my chronic migraines being left untreated, to uveitis being diagnosed as pink eye 3 times by 3 different doctors before it was diagnosed correctly, my pcos worsening, my concerns of having endometriosis going completely unheard, and worst of all, my gallbladder rupturing leading to an emergency surgery when I was just a teenager.

A general practitioner and my family doctor who I had seen since I was 12 or so even said “with the amount of pain you want me to believe you’re in you should be going to a pain clinic, not here.”

And yet when I responded with “Okay, can you refer me to a pain clinic then, please?!” (This was after I had explained to her that imitrex made me violently nauseated and the 1500 mg regimen of ibuprofen she had recommended wasn’t even touching my migraines (and that it was unsustainable given that at the time I was having 15+ migraines a month)

This was after I asked about Botox, a non addictive non pain-med treatment for migraines as well as asking about a mild opioid I had taken before for something unrelated, but didn’t demand it or steer the conversation in that direction, just mentioned that I had done prior research.

I also wanted to talk to her about other alternatives to medication, which I mentioned, like Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, or barometric therapy.

But she started claiming I was faking and just drug seeking.

This was the same doctor who had told me a few years prior that I “don’t want to be a bad kid who takes pain meds” when I was begging her to look at my stomach more than she had because I was in severe pain (a week or so before my gallbladder ruptured) because all she prescribed was omeprazole, and I called her out for just giving me an acid reflux medication and she got visibly upset when I knew what omeprazole)

Doctors in America can not stand to be seen as anything other than the most knowledgeable, competent and powerful person in the room.

Lately it’s been led to many doctors denying my right to have a patient advocate in the room with me (using Covid precautions as an excuse and then when I refuse to keep the appointment without someone with me, shaming me into being uneasy, even implying that I must not be that sick if I don’t want to have a doctors appointment by myself)

Thread from Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez on her experience in a hospital in Cuba

#united healthcare #healthcare #don’t call it health care it’s a health market #I wish I could afford medical tourism

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frownyalfred · 2 days ago

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how long do you reckon baby bruce kneeled in his parents' blood before the police arrived?

That’s an interesting question. I’ve tried to parse it in my head a few times. There’s a lot of factors at play here, but I think it hinges on two major ones: how the crime is called in, and the responsiveness of GCPD in the area of town, at that time of night.

If someone heard the gunshots and called it in, it might take a while for the cops to show up. If someone saw the bodies in the alley, they’d come much faster. How isolated was the scene? How quickly could someone have found them? A shots fired call might take hours to respond to, and it’s likely someone would have stumbled across the scene before then. But it’s also Gotham — even if the alley was in a nice(r) part of town, gunshots don’t usually prompt people to run toward a crime scene.

Was this area on the decline for GCPD? Was it a priority area (aka near fancy establishments etc) to keep happy for the mayor etc? Maybe a shots fired call in the Narrows won’t ever get a response, but dozens of feet from a theater or fancy restaurant? That changes things. Gotham is corrupt enough that GCPD would absolutely prioritize certain calls for service sooner.

Then the logistical aspect — who arrives first? Depends on the call, GCPD would dispatch cruisers for a shots fired call. But an ambulance or fire truck would show up first if someone actually called in the bodies/crime scene itself. Likely very quickly, like 5-10 minutes after the call was made. GCPD might be a little behind that, maybe 10-15 minutes.

All in all — hard to say exactly, but at least 10 minutes from when the bodies themselves are discovered. Longer if it’s just a shots fired call. Probably, by my estimates, 15-30 minutes for how long he was there kneeling in the blood all alone.

(And if you’ve read my pack fic with Alfred, it would be even longer after that to convince him to leave their bodies)

#asks #anon #batman #bruce wayne #dc #batfamily #tw blood #tw guns #GCPD

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lowkeyerror · 17 hours ago

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Instant Attraction

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Notes: Stepmom!Wanda, pining, masturbation, kissing, thigh riding, cheating, mommy kink, lmk if there's anything else,

Summary: Your dad calls you home from college unable to afford for you to dorm. He doesn’t let you know that in the time you were gone, he had gotten married. When you meet his wife Wanda, you're instantly attracted to her. That attraction doesn't seem so one sided.

An: Could be persuaded to write another part... after I finish my request

Masterlist

You grew up in a single-parent household. Your dad spent most of his time at work, trying to provide you a better life. You could never hate him for that. Your mother, she decided that motherhood wasn’t for her when you were around 5. She left one night and never came back.

You weren’t a very social kid. You had a few friends, but no real affinity for going out. There was a preference on your side of things to stay in, watch movies, and play games. Even when you grew your interest stay the same.

There were times were your father nearly forced you out of the house, just so he could see the sun touch your skin.

You weren’t the smartest kid, but you weren’t an idiot either. You took your average grades and went to community college securing yourself a general AA before you decided to transfer to a Cal State University. Though your father originally paid for you to dorm, he mentioned that it was a bit expensive.

So next semester you’d be commuting between home and school. Honestly, you’d only dormed because your father had pushed for it in the first place. He’d thought it’d be a good opportunity for you to branch out.

Your roommate, Kate was pretty cool, but in actuality she was a bit of a loser just like you were.

“Back so soon Y/n L/n?”

The thick accent made a smile tug at the ends of your lips, “What can I say, I missed the scariest neighbor on the block. Who’s going to tarnish your hardcore image if it’s not me, Lena?”

You and Yelena had grown up together, she’d been your neighbor for as long as you could remember. One of the few people that you’d let into your social circle.

“I’m back to stay. My dad told me dorming was too expensive, so I get to come back home.”

Yelena laughs lightly, “I bet it’s out of his range now since he’s caring for a woman and her children .”

You look at her dumbfounded. Slowly the laughter stops and the smile disappears from her face.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you not know?”

Her eyes are wide as she stares at you.

“Know what Yelena?”

She begins to sputter, “Holy shit, what kind of father doesn’t tell his daughter this things?”

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a little, “What kind of things, Yelena? Would you just tell me?”

“Y/n… you’re father. Sometime near the beginning of your semester, he got married.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head, “He did what?!”

“Her name is Wanda, she’s got 2 sons, twins.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. Laughter builds from inside of you and before you know it, it’s spilling out, “Good one Lena, you almost had me there. My father, married. Jesus Christ, this is why I don’t have too many friends.”

“Y/n, I’m serious.”

“Sure you are, now help me take some of this in the house, since you’re here,” you grab a bag from your trunk, shoving it into the blonde’s hands.

You don’t fumble around looking for your keys, instead opting to ring the doorbell. You told your dad you were coming this weekend, and he said he’d be home to let you in.

“Y/n, I’m really not lying about the marriage,” Yelena nudges you as you wait for the door to open.

You roll your eyes, “Even if I did believe you, what poor woman would marry my father?”

You ring the doorbell again, becoming impatient with waiting.

“Red head, green eyes, mother of 2 kids but you can’t tell from her body. She honestly a really attractive woman, don’t know how he did it,” Yelena goes into the details.

You laugh a little more, “This hypothetical woman sounds like my type. Maybe I could steal her from him.”

Yelena joins in on the laughter, “Not with your inability to speak to women.”

You glare at her, “Not funny.”

Finally the door opens, except it’s not your dad. It’s a woman with red hair, green eyes, a body that definitely doesn’t look like she had two kids. You can’t help but gawk at her.

“You must be Y/n, I’m Wanda. Your father told me to welcome you in, he’s working, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” Yelena spoke with a smirk on her face.

“Yelena, it’s good to see you again. Helping Y/n with her bags?”

Yelena nods, “She needs all the help she can get.”

You shove the blonde while maintaining your gaze on the redhead, “You married my dad?”

She laughs at the disbelief in your voice, “Yes, I did sweetheart. Is that alright with you?”

You’re at a loss for words when you hear her call you sweetheart, “I um… I’m going to head to my room.”

You rush into the house and up the stairs past the red head. Yelena offers the woman a bright smile as she trails behind you a much slower pace.

When the blonde enters your old room she finds you pacing back and forth. Your teeth are sinking into one of your knuckles as you try to get your thoughts going.

“So…”

“You weren’t lying,” you whisper, more to yourself than her.

“I was not.”

You keep pacing, “She has two kids?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p', taking a seat on your bed.

You pull out your phone to call your dad. The phone rings, so long that you almost hang up.

“Hey kid, what’s going on?”

You feel your anger growing at his relaxed tone, “ I just got home… and there’s a woman in our house. A woman that Yelena told me that you are married to! Dad, what the fuck? When did you get married? Who is this woman? When did you start dating? She has kids?”

“One question at a time Y/n, please.”

You scoff over the phone, “No, you’ve been lying to me for months now, possibly longer. I deserve the truth.”

You hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know the right time. Wanda and I had been dating for almost 2 years, I didn’t want to introduce you two before I was sure she was the one.”

“Well technically you still haven’t introduced us. You were supposed to be here today.”

He sighs again, “I know kid, but work called last minute. I know I should’ve been there for this, and I’m fucking it up, but I swear Wanda is amazing, you just have to get to know her.”

“When did you get married?”

“A week after you left, it was… spontaneous. We ended up at courthouse and next thing I know, I’m Mr. Shawn Maximoff.”

You furrow your brow, “You took her last name?”

“It sounds cooler,” he concedes.

It does sound cooler so you don’t argue with him.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. We’re supposed to be in this together. Thick as thieves, I have your back and you have mine, but you’re lying to me about things this important,” you sit on your bed next to Yelena.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to I promise. How about I come home right now, and we can talk about it in person?”

“That’s a start,” you relent.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon, love you.”

You let out a sigh of your own, “Love you, bye.”

When you hang up the phone, your head lands on Yelena’s shoulder. She pulls you into her side, rubbing your shoulder for comfort.

“There, there my friend. I’m sure everything will work out fine between you and your father. If not, you could always go with the plan of stealing Wanda away from him.”

You push her away from you, “Not funny.”

Yelena raises her hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion.”

“Help me unpack,” you begin to unload your belongings.

Yelena deflates, but helps you regardless. When you’re done you can hear a car pull up in the driveway.

“Looks like your dad’s home.”

“Great.”

Yelena starts making her way to your bedroom door, “I love you, but I am not staying for whatever talk is about to transpire.”

“Fair,” you follow her to the front door.

“Last thing, will you be calling her mommy because-"

You open the door and push her through it, “Goodbye, Yelena.”

Your dad walks into the frame, chuckling at the scene. He waves to your friend, “Goodbye Yelena.”

She waves back, “Bye Shawn, bye Y/n.”

He closes the door behind him. Your dad turns to you and opens his arms. As upset as you are with him, you can’t deny him the hug. You wrap your arms around him, and he squeezes you tightly.

“Believe it or not, I really missed you kid.”

“Enough to get a whole new family,” you shot back him.

“That’s fair, let’s talk in the back.”

You agree, but you don’t make it to the backyard before running into Wanda again.

“Honey you’re home early,” Wanda strides past you and kisses your father.

The sight is strange to you. You knew that your father had dated after your mother, but he never brought anyone home. You had never seen him be intimate with anyone, it felt weird. At least that’s what you think the feeling is.

“I am, I owe Y/n an explanation for some things . So I thought it was best to come home and straighten things out.”

Wanda seems to understand what he’s alluding to, “Alright, while the two of you talk how about I get dinner started.”

They kiss again, and this time you turn away.

“Sounds good, let’s go kid.”

You follow your dad through kitchen and to the backyard. He stops for a second in the kitchen to grab two beers, before continuing outside. The two of you sit on the patio chairs, facing out towards the yard.

He opens both the drinks and hands you one wordlessly. You hate beer, but you’re not turning down this moment with your dad.

“I was lonely for a long time when your mom left Y/n. I wanted to unpack those feelings, but there was one feeling that I felt more than loneliness and that was fear. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you and that someone would take you away. There was nearly 10 years that I pushed those feelings of loneliness down, to focus on you, on us. It was what I supposed to do and I don’t regret it. I know I wasn’t always there for you in the way you needed me to be, but just know I was always thinking about how I could be better for you.”

He stops to take a swig of his beer, “Eventually, once I thought that you were old enough, I started dating. Nothing really stuck until I met Wanda. It was a chance encounter at some coffee place, she’d just had finalized her divorce. I wasn’t sure about it, but I also just couldn’t let her go without giving it a shot. Low and behold a shot turned into 2 years.”

You take a large gulp of beer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react. We don’t really talk about your feelings about your mom, I just didn’t want you to think- that I was trying to put someone in that spot for you."

“I understand that feeling, but I would’ve like to meet her before you know, you got married.”

“It was so just such a quick decision. That we were already married before I realized that I fucked up. There wasn’t a ceremony or anything,” he explains.

You drink some more, “But it’s been months dad. You know I thought Yelena was lying to me in the driveway when she was saying something about a wife and 2 kids.”

He looks into his lap, “The longer I waited, the harder it got. I felt like a kid who was going to get scolded, I didn’t feel like I had the right words. I still don’t think I do. ‘Hey sport, so I’ve been seeing someone for 2 years and I got married how’s your first week of college going’.”

You laugh, “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to be left in the dark like this ever again.”

“Yes mam,” he salutes you. “So how was your first semester? Get into any trouble, join any clubs, get a girlfriend maybe?”

You stop him there, “Pump your brakes, I still have questions about… your marriage. Like where are the two kids?”

“They’re at their father’s house. They usually do two weeks there, two weeks here. I think they might be spending more time with him this summer. Billy and Tommy are great kids, I think you’d get along with them pretty well. They’re into games and stuff like you. You’ll meet them. ”

“I’m assuming they’re younger.”

“15.”

Your eyes go wide, “She has two 15-year-old kids?”

Your dad chuckles, “Yes, she does. Wanda is actually older than me.”

“Bullshit,” you say in disbelief.

“Swear to god, I’m serious. She’s a really cool person once you get to know her.”

You hum, “Well she’s already in the family, so I don’t really have a choice, do I Mr. Maximoff?”

He gets up from his seat, beer bottle empty, “Isn’t your generation supposed to be the progressive one?”

You follow his lead, downing the rest of your drink, “You’re the one giving it negative connotation.”

“Whatever kid, I'm going to change out of my work clothes. How about you see if Wanda needs any help in the kitchen?”

You take in a deep breath, “I’ll do my best.”

He places a hand on your shoulder, leading you back inside, “She’s a nice woman Y/n, she’s not going to bite your head off or anything.”

Once you’re back inside, your dad heads upstairs, while to go towards the kitchen.

“It smells really good in here,” you say entering the space.

“Thanks, I’m trying something new today. Your dad said you’re a bit of a picky eater, but I hope you’ll like it.”

“Between us, I’ve always just said that because dad only knows how to cook 3 things,” you joke, and find yourself smiling harder when you hear Wanda laugh.

“Let me guess, burger, steak, salmon?”

“You survived eating the salmon?”

She laughs even harder, covering her mouth, “There were a few bones, but it was an honest attempt.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You ask, but you can see that she’s about done with everything.

“Could just get the plates for me, I know they’re right by me, but I have to keep stirring or-”

“It’s no problem, Wanda.”

You cut her off politely. The plates are stashed right above the stove. You come up behind Wanda, who is stirring the food in the skillet. You are taller than her so reaching above her is no problem. The only thing that you are unsure about is standing so close behind her.

Your front is only centimeters away from touching her back. When you reach over her, you think you hear her curse to herself.

“Is everything alright?”

“The food just got me a little, all good.”

You grab the plates and sit them on the counter next to her.

“So Y/n I hear you’re an English major.”

You nod, “I am.”

“I was too back in my day.”

You can't help but shake your head, “You look like you could still be in college.”

You see her blush at your words turning off the stove. You don’t know why seeing her blush makes you feel smug, but it does.

“Oh stop it,” she looks away from you.

“I’m serious, Wanda. I would’ve never guessed you were a mother let alone to two teenagers,” you continue to compliment her.

“A lot of people are surprised when I tell them how old I am,” she admits. “They all say that I look good for my age.”

You catch her gaze, “They should just tell you that you look good. Age is irrelevant.”

“You’re quite the charmer Y/n. I don’t blame them, I’m nearly 50.”

Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I don’t believe you.”

She laughs, “It’s true, I’m 45.”

“I’d believe you if you said 25,” you’re serious when you speak.

The compliment flusters her, “Could you help me take the plates to the table?”

You grab 2 of the 3 plates sitting them at the table. You would’ve thought that Wanda would’ve set her plate next to your dad, but instead she sits next to you.

“You can dig in when you’re ready, no need to let the food get cold waiting for your dad.”

You take her words to heart and begin eating. After the first bite you find it impossible to stop. It tastes as good as it smelt while cooking. You could cry at the home cooked meal. Ramen packets and fast food could not compare. You had been prepared for a burger that your dad made or to go out for dinner, but this was better than you could’ve expected.

“I take it, you like it,” amusement present in her voice as she watches you devour the food.

“I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time and if I’m bring honest they never tasted like this.”

“Do you cook at all?”

You nod, “You’re looking at the family chef. I didn’t want to always eat steak, burger, and spaghetti. “

“How could I forget about the spaghetti? He’ll literally eat it all week.”

“Now you see why I was surprised when I found out he was married.”

Your dad finally makes an appearance, “What’s wrong with my spaghetti?”

“Nothing its good spaghetti, but all week dad?

“Well if it’s good, then I don’t see the problem.”

The three of you sit and chat through dinner. It comes surprisingly easy as you find yourself enamored by Wanda. You hang on every word she says, there’s this twinkle in her eye when she speaks. Her expressions are right there on her sleeves.

You don’t miss the way she bites her lip while she’s thinking, or the small hint of an accent in certain things she says. It makes you wonder more about how your dad could ever manage a woman like this.

When everyone is done eating, you stand up and begin to collect the dishes.

“I’ve got it Y/n,” Wanda tries to take them from you, but you stop her.

“No, it’s alright, you cooked it’s only fair I do the dishes.”

She smiles, giving your father a pointed look, “Maybe someone else should take notes.”

He gives you a playful glare, “Home for a couple hours and already making me look bad.”

You start on the dishes, taking the moment to yourself to gather your thoughts. No matter how many subjects you tried to shift through, the one your mind kept falling back to was Wanda.

She was truly one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. She was a virtual stranger to you, so there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. You’d only just met her, it would take some time to get used to seeing her as your dad’s wife.

“I think that one is clean.”

Wanda’s voice startles you a bit causing you to jump lightly. Heat fills your face as embarrassment sets in.

“You caught me lost in thought,” your nerves are still high as you speak.

“What’s got you so far away sweetheart?”

You make the mistake of looking into her eyes. The genuine curiosity behind them paired with a gentle worry conveyed by the small furrow in her brow. You’re gawking again, your focus returns to the dishes.

“It’s just been me and my dad for long time.”

“I understand that , I know that you’re just meeting me-"

You stop her, “You’re lovely, Wanda. I’m not- I don’t have concerns about your relationship with him. I just… I don't know where I fit into all of this. With me moving back home, I feel like a stranger.”

Wanda takes the dish out of your hands and sits it in the rack. If she cares about the moisture level of your hands, she doesn’t say anything. She takes them in her own and looks into your eyes.

“This is your home Y/n. You will never be a stranger in it. It’s a lot to get used to, especially when it’s sprung on you so quickly and I'm sorry for that. Consider it my goal to make you feel at home.”

You don’t know when your eyes dropped to her lips, but it was abundantly clear they had when she stopped speaking.

“Sweetheart?”

You blink a few times regaining your awareness, quickly pulling your hand from hers, “Sorry, long day. I think I’ll turn in for the night, but thank you Wanda… for the food and the talk.”

You rush upstairs and close yourself in your room. What you never noticed was the faint blush on Wanda’s cheeks. She had seen you focus in on her lips while speaking. Honestly, she was finding the way you were looking at her hard to ignore. There was such a wanting in them. She was trying to ignore it, while still getting to know you, but that task was beginning to seem difficult.

She decided to wipe up the kitchen area. Her thoughts wander to when she opened the door for you. The way your eyes traveled the length of her body, the way your mouth stayed agape when she spoke.

You didn’t look a lot like your father. Wanda noted that you were tall and sort of lanky like he was, and you had a lot of his mannerisms, but physically she assumed you looked like your mother. You had soft features, that might have clashed a little with your urban aesthetic.

You presented yourself much how your dad described you. A bit shy, but truly a good mannered, funny kid. Wanda expected a little more social ineptitude, but she was surprised with how chatty you ended up being.

She wondered if it had anything to do with the way you perceived her. Truth be told she felt sorry for you, your father should’ve told you about this a while ago. She had heard about you and pressed to meet you, but he always had some excuse to why you couldn’t meet.

“So, what do you think?”

“I wish I would’ve met her a little earlier but she seems like a good kid,” Wanda turns to face her husband.

The man frowns, “I’m sorry, seeing you both interact made me realize that I could’ve done this much sooner.”

“How do you think she’ll interact with the boys?”

He smiles, “Y/n is basically one of the boys. You’ll see that side of her eventually. She’ll be in that room for the foreseeable future, until Yelena or someone else drags her out.”

“I could take her out for a girl’s day,” Wanda suggests.

Shawn laughs at her, “I’ve never known her to be into any of that stuff, but if that’s something you want to do, let me know. I’d probably have to convince her to agree.”

Wanda shakes her head, “I think I can get her to go all on my own.”

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll see you upstairs.”

The man makes his way upstairs to the bed. Wanda on the other hand, stays finishing up some minor things in the kitchen, before heading up herself.

She heads straight for the bathroom, ready to get the smell of the kitchen off of her. She wasn’t paying much attention on her way, looking at her phone. That’s how she found herself running straight into you. She would’ve fell if it weren’t your strong grip on her hips.

She went to apologize, but the words died on her lips as she saw water droplets falling from your skin. Her hands pressed against your slightly damp pajama shirt, in order to stabilize herself.

The shirt was thin enough, for her to feel your abdomen through it. She found herself at a loss for words.

“Are you alright Wanda?”

She nods meekly, “Sorry sweetheart, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s no biggie, as long as you’re ok,” you help her fully upright, hands not leaving her side.

“All good, thanks to you,” Wanda struggles to meet your eyes.

You are about to squeeze her sides when you remember who this woman is. Your hands fall to your sides quickly. Nervous laughter build up in your throat, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Y/n I was wondering if you'd be interested in having a girl’s day with me, before my boys come. I think it’d be good to have some bonding time.”

“I um- I’ve never really had a girl’s day,” you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Well, it’ll be my treat?”

You nod, “Ok, like tomorrow or…”

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

You give a thumbs up and make your way to your room, while Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You plop straight into your bed, slapping your hand on to your face, “Really Y/n, a girl’s day. What were we thinking?”

You knew exactly what you were thinking. Alone time with Wanda, piqued your interest. The feeling of her in her hands felt like it was etched into your memory. The way she was looking at you made your heart pound in your chest.

As you lay in bed, your mind begins to paint vulgar images in your head. Ones that you had yet to experience due to your introverted lifestyle. The farthest you had gone with another girl was some lackluster dry humping.

That didn’t stop you from imagining your hands on Wanda’s body. The way she softly gasped when your hands stopped her from falling. The feeling of her fingers against your abdomen, blessed for the thing material of your shirt. The addictive color of her lips, and how they could move against yours.

You couldn’t sleep with her on your mind and the wetness pooling between your legs. You sit up in your bed, leaning back against the headboard. It’s only a moment of contemplation, before you stick your hand under the band of your pajama pants.

Your fingers are determined as they draw tight fast circles around your clit. You want to expedite the experience as much as possible. There couldn’t be anytime to dwell on who you were thinking about.

With your eyes closed you could see her taking her shirt off. Her skin soft and cool under your fingertips. A trail of goosebumps in your wake. You could see her craning her neck as you sucked on the exposed skin, marking her as your own. You could feel her hands tugging at your hair, moaning your name as you tasted her.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you came with a grunt. Your eyes still closed as your fingers stilled against the mess you made of yourself.

On the other side of your bedroom door, Wanda was standing there in shock. She had heard some sounds coming from your room after exiting the bathroom. When she realized what the sounds were, she thought she should leave. Yet the sound of her name being whispered on your tongue along with the sound of you playing with yourself, kept her in place.

She found herself worked up after her shower. Wishing that she would’ve cracked the door to see you, touching yourself with her in mind. Simultaneously scolding herself for having thoughts like this running through her head.

She married your father, she liked your father, he was a decent man. He was good to her and her boys. So what if he was always working, who cares that he hid their entire relationship from the most important person in his life, and does it even matter that he hasn’t ever really given her an orgasm. This was her new husband and she shouldn’t be thinking about his daughter in this way.

Maybe asking for a girl’s day, wasn’t a good idea. Being closer to you seemed like a dangerous game, lines that Wanda couldn’t allow herself to cross.

It was hard for her, knowing your young prying eyes were on her. From what she had heard, you already wanted her. The token of a youthful want and desire, it went right to her core.

When she finally made her way back to her room, she had decided that she needed some relief. She was going to seek it from your father, but the man already laid snoring. She shook him a couple of times in hopes to wake him up, but her attempts were met with swats of her hand and incoherent grunting.

Wanda huffed with irritation sliding into her side of the bed. She let herself get off to the thought of you that night unable to think herself guilty.

Your father was out of the house before Wanda or yourself had woken up in the morning. Wanda hated waking up to an empty bed, but it had become her new normal.

She didn't bother getting ready for the day yet. She simply stretched some, before brushing her teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast. She was surprised to find you in the kitchen, cooking.

You hadn’t recognized her presence yet, too caught up in breakfast. Music played lowly through the kitchen and you hummed along. You thought it’d be a nice gesture to make breakfast since Wanda had cooked dinner last night.

The older woman watched you in somewhat of a trance. Your movements were a little clumsy, but it was clear that you had been doing it like this for a while. She could see herself coming up behind you and wrapping herself around you as you cooked for her.

Her muscles twitched at the thought. She took in a deep breath before she finally announced her presence, “Good morning.”

You turn away from the stove to smile at her, “Perfect timing, I'm almost done with breakfast.”

“You didn't have to do all of this, your dad’s not even here to enjoy it.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I figured he’d be at work anyway. Consider this a thank you for dinner."

You bring her a plate along with some coffee before getting your own.

“Y/n, this is amazing,” Wanda praises you.

You grow bashful, “It’s nothing really. So, what’s on the agenda for our girl’s day?”

Wanda ponders for a moment, “How about you tell me some things you like to do and we’ll go from there?”

You stumble a bit, “I uh- I don't really like to do much. Dad and I never really did anything more than like going to a park and sometimes fishing.”

“What about the mall? People your age are into shopping, right?”

You laugh, “I’ve only really been back to school shopping.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Today, I guess I’m going to introduce you to some of life’s little luxuries. I’m going to need you to trust me.”

You give her a small smile, “I trust you.”

You say it so earnestly that it nearly scares her.

“Good, so we’ll head out after we’re done eating and getting dressed.”

After cleaning up and getting dressed you regrouped in the living room. You tried your best to not let your eyes linger over Wanda’s attire. She wore a simple yellow sundress, it wasn’t anything extravagant but it looked good on her. It almost made you want to change out of your t-shirt and jeans, feeling a little underdressed.

“Ready?”

You answer her, and soon you’re in the passenger seat of her car with no idea where you’re going. You both make pleasant small talk, not really feeling the need to fill the silence. The only thing you make conscious effort to do is not stare at her cleavage in the dress.

It hard to erase the images that you pictured last night, but for your own sake you try.

The first place Wanda takes you is a nail shop. You had been before, but it had honestly been years. She opted for a manicure and pedicure, while you just got a manicure. You were usually a clear coat type of girl but today you decided to get black paint.

After your nails, Wanda decides to take you to the mall.

“Ok, whatever you want in here, is on me today,” she says as you enter the shopping center.

Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I couldn't ask you for that.”

“Good thing you didn't ask sweetheart,” she responds and you feel yourself melt a little.

“I’m not even good at shopping, I don't really know what looks good on me,” you admit to the woman.

She pauses her steps to give you a once over. Her eyes dragging slowly across your body, as if she was personally undressing you then and there.

“Honey, you should've never told me that. Now, I’m afraid you're going to have to indulge me through these stores.”

“What does that mean?”

Wanda’s tone is playful, “Don’t worry your little head about it sweetheart, I’m going to help you find some clothes.”

It's not a second later that she’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a clothing store. She starts grabbing clothes and holding them up to your body, trying to see what looks good. She had a pile of clothes in her arms that she was shoving into your hands.

“Try these on,” she pushes you to the dressing rooms.

A lot of the stuff she had was stuff you’d never grab for yourself, but it did all look good on you. There were a few pieces, particularly crop tops, that you weren’t too sure about.

“I think I look weird,” you come out in the crop top.

You have something of a jacket over it. You look down at your exposed stomach before looking up at Wanda. There’s something in the way she’s looking at you.

“It looks good,” her tongue swipes across her bottom lip. “But if you’re uncomfortable then you don’t have to get it.”

“Do you really think it looks ok?”

She stands from her spot and makes her way over to you. Her hands fiddle with the end of the shirt. She adjust the waistband of your jeans. With a few quick tugs, she has you seeing the outfit in a different way.

“I do.”

You nod, “Ok, I see it.”

“You should wear it out,” she suggests and you comply.

You thought it’d be over after the one store but Wanda takes you into 3 more clothing store, racking up a whole new wardrobe. At the end you practically had to beg her not to spend any more money.

“Do you want to go in there, your dad mentioned you’re a big gamer?”

She nods her head to the video game store that you admittedly had been eyeing since the last store you went in.

You shake your head, “You’ve already spent so much and games are like $70 now.”

“ So I’m going to take that as a yes,” she starts walking ahead into the store.

You groan, but follow her in anyway, “Wanda, can I ask what you do for work?”

She laughs, “Why, so you can feel a little better about me spending the money?”

“Maybe,” you say browsing through a few games.

“Well, I used to work in real estate and now I do editing for major publications books, magazines, things like that.”

“That seems like a big jump,” you point out.

She nods, “It is, but I’m much happier editing than I was selling houses. The real estate did give me a good standing to be able to chase and finance my dreams. It’s honestly given me more money than I know what to do with. So I usually just don’t do anything with it.”

“Does my dad know?”

Wanda adverts her eyes, “No, he doesn’t. Your dad really enjoys being a provider. He wants to be the breadwinner and bring home the bacon. He doesn’t even let me pay for dinner. I pay for some of the bills at home and he doesn’t even want me to do that. I’ve been trying to coerce him into letting me do more but-”

“He’s a stubborn guy,” you finish her thoughts. “When I was in high school, I got a job at the movie theater to help out with some things around the house and for college. Dad was really…insecure about letting me help. He wanted to prove he could do it on his own.”

Her eyes soften, “Oh wow."

“Yeah, I think it has something to do with my mom walking out on us, but I don’t know. We never really talked about it,” you say picking up a game.

Wanda knew this topic to be sensitive to your dad. He had mentioned it, but never went into detail. When Wanda tried to press for information, he'd either shut down or get irritated, she wonders if he was the same with you.

“No pressure, but if you ever want to talk about it or vent, I’m here for you.” She takes the game from your hands, “I know it’s not your dad’s favorite topic and I know I don’t have the answers you’re probably looking for, but I don’t mind listening to you.”

You look at her for a long moment. Your eyes are watering against your will. You blink back the tears and nod silently. You never really talked about your mom, truth be told you never unpacked those feelings yourself.

“I- I’ve never really talked about it with anyone. I don’t know how I feel about it, I mean I was only 5.”

Wanda thinks of her words carefully, “Do you remember her?”

You laugh lightly, still pretending to browse the games, “Of course I do, she was my mom. She brushed my hair, tucked me in, put band aids on my scrapes and cuts, and she never got mad when I got grass stains on my clothes.”

Wanda keeps quiet as she senses you have more to say.

“She was a stay-at-home mom, so I spent most of my time with her. I don’t- I wish I remembered what she looked like more. I look like her, I know I do, but… I don’t know it’s not enough.”

Wanda rests her hand on your back. Rubbing small circles bringing you more comfort than you thought you needed. You place your hand in her other hand, sighing deeply.

“I wish I knew why she left. Dad never told me, I just know that one day I woke up and she wasn’t there. He told me she wasn’t coming back. I never wanted to ask him, he was already doing so much to prove that he could be enough. I’m grateful for that, for him… but in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder, you know.”

A teardrop falling onto your cheek, pulls you quickly out of the moment. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve and take a step back from Wanda.

“Y/n-"

“I’ve heard really cool things about that game. I’ve been wanting it for a few months now,” you pivot topics, clearing your throat.

“Then it’s yours sweetheart.”

You were grateful that she just let it go.

After that you both decide to call it a day and head back home. You bring all of your new clothes to your room and begin to put them away. You decide to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes before heading down to the living room. Usually you’d keep to yourself in your room, but you were secretly hoping Wanda would join you.

“What’re you watching?”

“Back to the Future, it’s one of my favorites,” you make room for her on the couch next to you.

She takes a seat, “Mine too.”

You perk up, “Really?”

She nods, “Me and my brother used to watch it all the time when we were younger.”

The two of you sit in silence as you watch the movie. Unbeknownst to either of, the space between you grows slimmer by the minute. You take a peek at the woman to find her eyes fluttering, before they finally close. She had already nearly been laying on the couch. Her feet are up, bent to lay over each other. She had been holding up her head in her hand. Now as she fell unconscious her head had drops into your lap.

You feel your heart rate pick up. The movie suddenly becomes uninteresting. You don’t want to move, unwilling to wake the woman. She looks peaceful in her sleep. You notice how she twitches lightly and though you shouldn’t your fingers begin to comb through her hair. She hums in your lap, but you don’t still. Your fingers work gingerly to bring her comfort.

She stops twitching and you refocus on the movie with your hand still in her hair. Eventually you find yourself dozing off as well.

“Well, well, well looks like girl’s day was a success,” it’s your father’s voice that wakes both you and Wanda.

The red head becomes alert first, she notes her position in your lap and your hand in her hair and immediately bolts up right. You’re slower to come to stretching widely before open your eyes.

“Yeah, it was pretty fun,” you say while yawning.

“I see some nail polish Y/n, that’s new.”

You shrug, “It’s not the first time.”

“I know but it’s been a while, having another girl around the house is nice, isn’t it?”

You let out a huff of irritation, completely aware of what he was insinuating. For the most part your dad was in support of your sexuality. However, there were some jokes he just couldn’t let go of. The “gay” thing was fine with him, but he still believed that you could stand to be more ladylike. Which was completely rich coming from the man that raised you on fishing trips, Miller Lite, and WWE.

“So, ladies what’s for dinner?”

Wanda goes to answer but you speak over her, “Honestly dad, I was hoping for some of your burgers tonight.”

Your father beams with excitement, “Will do kiddo, just let me shower first and I’ll be in the kitchen.”

You both watch as he wanders up the stairs.

“You didn’t want to cook, did you?”

“No, not really. Thank you for the save and for letting me nap on you,” she adverts her gaze as she speaks to you.

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” you say to her, not noticing the undertone of your statement.

Her eyes become dark as she looks at you. The lust filled look in her eyes has you reeling at what you said. There’s no point in taking it back now. You swallow thickly under her gaze, but don't make any motion to move away from her. Instead, you find yourself compelled to lean in closer.

Wanda let’s you get within a few inches of her face, before breathlessly letting your name fall from her lips, “Y/n.”

You close your eyes, “You can’t just say my name like that, Wanda.”

“You can’t make statements like the one you made,” she fires back.

Both of you give leeway to how you’re actual feeling. You go to move closer to her, but her hand on your shoulder keeps you away. It honestly breaks you from whatever pulled you in, in the first place

The tips of your ears heat up as you stand abruptly, “Sorry, I- I’ll see you at dinner.”

Much like when you were a teenager you lock yourself in your room. Wanda picks up a pillow from the couch putting it over her head, pretending to scream into it.

You send a quick text to Yelena. Something along the lines of saying you should hang out tomorrow. She is in disbelief at the fact that you want to do something out of the house, but is equally as excited. She says she’s taking advantage of this and keeping you out all day.

You needed to get out of the house. You stayed in it so much because you deemed it as a safe space. However, with Wanda around… you didn’t know if you could truly call it safe. It had only taken two days for you to almost kiss her.

There wasn’t a bone in your body that was used to moving this quickly. It had taken you years to develop your first crush and even longer before you acted on any such feeling. Yet with Wanda everything felt different. You weren’t a believer in love at first sight, you wouldn’t call what you were feeling love. This attraction… for lack of a better term just felt intense.

It was almost as if every interaction had a double meaning to it. It was something that the other woman was clearly also aware of. Neither of you should be acting on it and technically you hadn’t done anything. The problem was that you wanted to, and you didn’t see those feelings going away anytime soon. It was only the second day and you had the rest of your life to go.

One day out with Yelena became a couple days of the week out with her. You even had started texting your former roommate to see if she’d be down to hangout as well. So save for the first two days, you spent every day out and about.

You had similar plans for the next week too, but they came to a halt quickly when your dad mentioned Wanda’s kids coming back from their dad’s. He made it clear that he wanted you to be there to meet them so your plans of avoiding home, became a little more complicated.

So once again you were stuck in your room. The doorbell ringing is the only reason you had left the space. You knew that your dad was out and Wanda was working in her office at the time, so you were the only option.

It rang one more time, before you got to it. When you open the door, you are met by two teenage boys and an older looking man. You stare at them and they stare back at you.

“Is Wanda in? I would like to have a talk with her,” the man in the middle speaks.

“She’s working right now.”

He rolls his eyes, “And who are you exactly?”

Something about his tone makes you jaw twitch, “I’m Y/n, Shawn’s kid.”

“Right, the one he was hiding away.”

“Dad-”

Dealing with stuck up assholes was unfortunately nothing new to you, “Billy, Tommy you guys can head on in.”

They look from their father to you before quickly making the decision to go inside. The man trues to go in behind but you block his entry.

“They live here, you don’t. I suggest you try talking to Wanda again sometime next week…” you smile at him.

“Jarvis,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Goodbye Jarvis,” you slam the door in his face.

You clap your hands together as you turn around. You slightly startle at the presence of the teen boys behind you. There’s an awkward silence as you stare at each other.

“So, your mom said you guys are gamers?”

That’s all it took for the three of you to hunker down in the living room and start gaming. From Mario Kart to Mario Party to Mortal Kombat, the three of you rotted the day away. You end up ordering some pizza and junk food, which is essential for all gaming marathons.

“I love your style by the way,” Billy says grabbing a slice of pizza.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You might as well just ask me if I'm gay.”

Tommy laughs at this, which earns him a slap in the arm from Billy.

“Well… are you?”

“Yep.”

“Girlfriend?” Tommy asks.

“Nope, how about you two?”

Billy smiles, “I have a boyfriend.”

He goes on telling you some details. You genuinely feel happy for the boy. To be young, out, and dating is really cool.

“That’s really cool Billy.”

“Thanks, I wish my dad thought so too.”

Tommy jumps in the conversation, “Dad is fucking stupid, what does he know about any kind of relationship.”

You agree with Tommy, “I mean he did fumble your mom.”

They both laugh, but Billy brings the conversation back, “I just wish he was more accepting.”

“He’s either going to come around because he loves you or keep showing you who he really is. Either way you still have your mom, your bother, your boyfriend, and even me to rely on. So just cause your dad isn’t accepting doesn't mean you aren’t accepted,” you tell him sincerely.

“He wanted to talk to mom about Billy’s boyfriend. He thinks it’s… inappropriate,” Tommy spills.

“Well I don't think it's any of his business, and even if he did tell your mom she’d have your back,” you say like it’s obvious.

“If who told me what?”

Wanda comes out from her office and her kids greet her. She’s surprised to see you downstairs with them, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Dad doesn't approve of Billy’s boyfriend,” Tommy says again earning an agitated look from his brother.

“Yeah, he was going to talk to you, but Y/n kicked him out,” Billy says awkwardly.

You keep your focus on the game, “I didn’t kick him out… I slammed the door in his face.”

“Y/n!”

“It was well deserved. He asked who I was, I told him. Then the asshole has the audacity to refer to me as ‘the one he was hiding' when trying to get into my house. I think the fuck not.”

Wanda walks in front of your TV blocking the game. You pause it and look up at her to find an unexpected fury in her eyes.

“What did he say to you?”

You meet her eyes, urging her to calm down, “I handled it.”

She takes the hint, moving out of your way, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She then focuses on talking with her children, recapping the week that they had. Billy also goes into some less than nice details of what his father had to say about his boyfriend.

Wanda’s hand presses against her brow line hearing the details. She’s clearly irritated with the twin’s father.

“I’ll talk to him, and you tell me if he says anything else. I have no issue coming to get you guys if he makes you uncomfortable,” Wanda says hugging the boys.

You take this moment between the family to go upstairs. You breath in the minute to yourself. The twins were nice, and it was cool to have people in the house to game with. They’d seem like people who’d you befriend at their age.

“Thanks for hanging out with my kids and for the stuff with their dad,” Wanda stands in your doorway.

You give her a small nod, “Billy and Tommy are cool. Their dad… less cool. So it was my pleasure to slam the door in his face.”

Wanda chuckles, “Jarvis is an asshole.”

You join in on her laughter, “Yeah, I definitely can’t see you with that guy.”

“I was young and naïve. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have stayed for so long.”

“How young?”

Wanda sighs, “18. He was older, more appealing back then.”

You can’t hide your reaction, “Oh.”

“Yeah, but that asshole gave me my kids. So I guess he was good for something.”

You disagree with her, “Just cause a guy is good for something, doesn’t mean he’s good for you.”

“Where were you when I was in my prime, Y/n?” her words have a double meaning.

You look at her, more serious than a heart attack, “I’m right here, and your prime is far from over.”

She shudders under your look, “Y/n.”

“I wish you could feel how hard it is for me to do the right thing, Wanda. I hate leaving the house, but I know if I was here all day with just you, I’d lose it.”

You’re lying on your back in bed. Your eyes cut from Wanda to the ceiling.

“Y/n, I’m married to your father.”

“He doesn’t even fuck you,” you say with a bored tone.

“Y/n!”

You don’t return her reaction, “I’ve been waiting to see if I’d have to plug my ears, or move downstairs so I didn’t have to hear. But it hasn’t happened yet. Probably too tired from work.”

“Y/n my kids are downstairs.”

Your head falls into your hands, “I’m sorry. I-I’m going to head out for a bit.”

You get up and go for your door. Wanda doesn’t move out of your way. She stands still in your doorframe.

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know, Lena’s if she’s home.”

Wanda frowns hearing this, “You don’t have to-”

You lock eyes with her’s, “I do.”

Wanda’s hand caresses your cheek. You lean into her touch. You hear her take an unsteady breath.

“You make this so hard for me.”

She slowly removes her hand, only to replace it with her lips. It’s enough to ignite a fire in your body. They linger, much longer than they should.

“Be safe,” she fixes your clothes a little, before finally clearing your path.

“Wanda-"

“I’ll see you back for dinner,” she says walking away from you.

When you think she can't see you anymore, you touch your cheek. The spot where her lips had been. You slip out of the house and make your way to Yelena’s.

You knock on the door and wait for her to answer. When she does, you don't let her say anything. You drag her upstairs to her room. You lock her door, before you start pacing in her room. She sits on her bed watching you.

“So… are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I need this to be a judgement free zone.”

Yelena tilts her head, “Then why come here?”

“Yelena, I’m serious.”

She raises her hands in surrender at your snappy tone, “Fine, what is it?”

“I’m attracted to Wanda, and I think… she’s attracted to me.”

Yelena laughs as you stare at her. The laughter goes on for minutes before she realizes that you aren't laughing.

“Y/n, are you being serious?”

You close your eyes, “Lena there’s this tension. I just thought it was in my head. I almost kissed her, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been going out, and stuff just to stay away from her. She’s driving me insane.”

“You tried to kiss her!”

“She gave me this kiss on the cheek. She said I was making it hard for her. Yelena I’ve never felt like this for anyone,” you tell your best friend.

“Dude you’re fucked,” is all that she says.

“I know.”

“She’s your dad’s wife.”

“I know.”

“She has 2 kids.”

“I know.”

“Did I say she’s your dad’s wife already?”

You groan joining her on the bed, “I- I don’t know if I care about it. I mean I do, but he doesn’t even treat her that good. It could be worse, but it’s not great.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I’d worship her.”

Yelena shakes her head, “I can’t believe you right now. You’re trying to get with your dad’s wife, she’s like almost 30 years older than you.”

“Can you blame me, you’ve seen her? It’s not my fault. If I would’ve met her before, maybe it would be different. It’s just like I come home and there’s this undeniably attractive woman in my house. She doesn’t feel like my dad’s wife to me."

Yelena nods along, “That’s fair, but Y/n this is insane.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s go to a club.”

Your eyes widen, “A club?”

“Lots of attractive people who are closer to your age and eligible,” she reasons with you.

“I’m not even supposed to be out right now. My dad says I have to be home to get acclimated with Wanda’s kids. They leave in a week.”

She claps her hands together, “Alright then, next week we’re going clubbing.”

You get a text from Wanda saying your father is on the way home. You know it’s her way of saying you need to be back soon.

“What should I do in the mean time?”

Yelena searches for an answer before landing on, “Act like she’s your mom.”

You gag at the thought, “Ew.”

Yelena reacts gleefully, “Exactly.”

You pause before exiting, “Technically… she is a milf though.”

“Y/n L/n get a fucking grip,” Yelena says with amusement.

“I’m trying, but she won’t let me,” you whine.

“You having a thing for older women makes so much sense. No wonder you had a crush on Natasha.”

You send her a playful glare, “We do not talk about the dark ages.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you. I don’t know if your dad will be as forgiving as I am.”

You shrug, “I’ll test it out and let you know.”

She leads you to her front door, “Think about the club. Focus on it, breathe it in. Dream about it. Do not think about fucking your step mom.”

“Too late for that,” you shrug again.

“Just get out already, I’m running low on things to say back.”

“Bye Lena,” you say as she basically pushes you out of her door.

You make it back just before your dad gets there. It’s interesting seeing him interact with Billy and Tommy. It’s clear to you that he favors Tommy a little more. It’s just in the way he speaks. It bothers you a bit and you make sure to include Billy any time that you can in conversation.

You can feel Wanda’s eyes on you throughout the dinner, but you keep your attention with the boys and your dad.

“So I have a bit of an announcement to make,” your father says, gathering everyone’s attention. “I have an opportunity to get a promotion at work.”

“That’s great honey, we’re so proud of you,” Wanda gives him a quick kiss.

You try your best to hold back any malice with a fake smile on your face.

“Well, the thing is I’d need to go out of town for a bit to secure the position,” he says and you feel Wanda’s mood shift.

“For how long dad?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink.

He winces, “At least a month, maybe more.” He begins to pile on in an effort to make it seem less drastic. “It’s really a once in a lifetime opportunity, I've been working there for so long it feels overdue, but with this money our lives could change dramatically. We could move, Y/n you could go back to dorming, it would be-”

“You already accepted it didn't you?”

Wanda’s tone is guarded as she speaks. It's clear that she's unhappy and you don't blame her.

You sigh pushing yourself away from the table, “Congratulations dad, I’m going to head up to my room now.”

“Wait.” Wanda’s voice stops you in your tracks. “How do you feel about this Y/n?”

“I uh-”

“Don’t drag my kid into this.”

Wanda starts gesturing with her hands, “I’m not, she’s bound to have an opinion. She lives here, she’s your daughter, and she came back home because of you. Now you’re bailing.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to him being busy,” you try to mediate.

Your dad throws his hands up, “What is that supposed to mean?”

You give him your honest opinion, “It means you’re busy. You were late to my graduation because of work. You missed my award ceremonies. There wasn’t any point in me signing up for extracurriculars because you’d never take me or show up anyway. It’s nothing personal dad, it’s just the truth.”

“I was providing for you,” he throws it back in your face.

Your shoulders drop, “I know and I’m grateful, but-” you stop yourself. Instead you just head for your room. You hear him call after you, but you don’t respond.

It’s not soon after that you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. There’s a soft knock on your door. You don’t say anything as Billy and Tommy slip into your room.

“They’re still going at it,” Tommy announces.

“Do they… do this a lot?” You ask the boys.

Billy answers, “When any sort of quality time is involved.”

You scoff, “Classic.”

Tommy places a hand on your shoulder, “We get it you know.”

“Sometimes you just wish they were there for you,” Billy finishes the sentence.

You feel yourself breaking down but refuse to let the tears fall. Tommy pulls you into a hug and Billy joins in soon after. You center yourself in their embrace. It’s not a comfort that you’re used to experiencing, you appreciate it immensely.

At some point during this moment the voices downstairs escalate to yelling. It quickly grabs your attention and has you realizing that you are the only other adult present in this moment. It feels like your responsibility to try to shield them from this, even if they are on the older side of things. Teenagers are still kids. Hell you still feel like a kid in your early twenties.

You place a hand on Billy’s head and the other on Tommy’s, “Thanks kids. I’m going to go handle downstairs, you stay up here.”

Tommy interjects, “I think-”

You stop him, “I’ve got it, trust me. They’re going to get noise complaint if things keep going.”

You steel yourself as you go downstairs to find Wanda and your father in the middle of a heated argument. They’re both standing, yelling in each other’s faces.

“SO WHAT SHAWN YOU LEAVE FOR OVER A MONTH AND DON’T EVEN THINK TO RUN IT BY ME FIRST?”

“RUN IT BY YOU FOR WHAT WANDA? YOU AREN’T MY MOTHER.”

“I AM YOUR WIFE, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT? TOO BUSY WORKING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE ME.”

“WHEN DID YOU BECOME SUCH A NEEDY BI-“

“ENOUGH,” you cut your father off in the middle of his sentence. The couple looks at you, and you can feel the anger simmering in their gazes. “It’s late, you’re going to get the police called with all of your arguing.”

“Well if-”

“Stop. The conversation is going nowhere because you aren’t having a conversation, you’re just screaming at each other,” you tell them.

“Y/n, you should stay out of this,” your father glare at you.

“I would love to, only we can all hear you upstairs. You either need to table this conversation for another time or go somewhere else to talk. Neither of you should be acting like this in front of your kids. I don’t care who started it, if you both plan on staying here tonight it’s over right now.”

Wanda is the one to take in a deep breath. She looks between you and your father. There’s something behind her eyes but you’re focused on the task at hand.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she walks away from the table, past you, and disappears up the stairs.

You muster up all the disappointment you possibly can as you take in your father’s appearance, “She has a right to be upset with you. It seems like you keep hiding these really important, life altering things from her. You have to be more upfront, more honest with her.”

“How was I supposed to know she’d react this way?”

You level with him, “You had to have expected something like this, it’s why you didn't tell her in the first place.”

“Maybe I did, I just… I really want this,” he says slumping down on the couch.

“Wanda doesn’t seem like the unsupportive type. It’s all in your delivery. You need to apologize, before you leave. When are you leaving?”

“In 3 days.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Christ dad.”

“I know, I know. I’ll take her out tomorrow and we'll talk it out there.”

You nod, turning to go back to your room.

“Kid wait.” You pause at his call. “What were you going to say back there, before you went to your room?”

It takes you a moment to respond, “Sometimes I just wanted someone to be there for me. My dad, my mom, just someone. You were always busy with work and I was always alone.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you go up the stairs. His eyes follow you until you disappear. He sighs, leaning back into the couch, feeling like he could scream. He was failing, and he had 3 days to fix it.

When go back upstairs the boys are passed out on your bed. You think about waking them up, but decide against it. You settle on going into their room. It’s not until you shut the door behind you, that you notice the red head sitting on one of the beds in the room.

You take a seat on the bed that she’s not sitting on. The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. You can see the emotions running through her eyes. The anger, the frustration, and the lust. Your heart beat is steady as you look back at her.

“Do you think I’m in the wrong?” her voice is small when she asks.

“No, I just don’t think you know what kind of guy you married. He’s never going to be around enough and he’s never going to pick you over work. I’m not trying to be an asshole, it’s just the truth,” you speak bluntly.

“If you-" Wanda stops her sentence in its tracks.

“Honestly if I were him, I’d turn it down. I wouldn’t want to leave you for a month, but he's not me.”

“No, he isn’t,” she breathes out.

There’s another silence. Then it happens, so suddenly that you nearly freeze. Wanda’s lips are on yours. Her hands are planted in your hair and yours rest on the dips of her hips. Your back lays flat against the mattress.

Your tongue slips into her mouth causing you both to moan. Her hips roll on your lap and you grunt at the sensation. Your lips leave her mouth only to kiss down the side of her neck. As much as you want to leave a hickey you don’t. It’s not until your tongue runs across the top of her breast that she partial breaks from the trance.

“Y/n,” it’s a whine from her lips. The sound is entirely to intoxicating.

You begin to guide her hips against your thigh. Her sundress not leaving much fabric between her cunt and your sweats.

“Y/n we shouldn’t,” her hips follow your movements though her words tell you different.

“Just let me make you cum, please. Please Wanda, get off on my thigh,” your words are low as you beg her.

“Fuck,” Wanda watches the way your eyes don’t move from where she grinds on your thigh.

She lifts the sundress slightly so you can have a better view.

“Oh god,” you groan at the sight of the dampness of her panties. It turns you on even more.

Wanda finds herself grinding down harder, chasing her orgasm. You hold her firmly, helping create more friction. You find yourself getting off on the image before you.

“Fuck, use me. I know he can’t do it, so let me be useful. Fucking use my thigh. You’re so hot, shit I wish I could have you like this every night. I’m so desperate for you. I’m going to cum just from having you on me, fuck mommy.”

Wanda’s body completely falls into your arms. She shakes as she cums, leaving a mess on your sweatpants. She’s trying and failing to catch her breath as you hold her upright. Her head lolls into your shoulder.

“Did you really cum?” she says lips brushing against your ear.

You nod dumbly.

She moans again, “That’s so fucking hot.” She places a kiss right below your ear. “And what did you call me?”

Your chest heaves as you breathe out a response, “Mommy.”

She purrs in your ear before pulling away some. She grabs a fistful of your shirt pulling you into a searing kiss.

“We’re doing this again. Do you understand sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes mommy.”

She kisses your head one last time before getting off of your lap. You don’t miss the way her legs shutter as she gets up. You whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry detka, we’ve got a little time to ourselves coming up. Mommy will let you go as far as you can handle, and maybe a little more than that.”

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #billy and tommy #yelena belova

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mulloey · 2 days ago

Text

clever girl

mafia!seonghwa & mafia!yunho x undercover detective!reader. feat. mafia!ateez

words: 7.5k

warnings: dark content. extremely dubcon. depictions of gangs, violence, death (not you or ateez& not shown) and prostitution.

smut warnings: heavy dubcon, threesome, hard doms!yunho & seonghwa, exhibitionism, gun play, double penetration, anal, unprotected sex, sir kink, pet& degradation names, fear kink, some thigh slaps, mentions of pregnancy and breeding, death threats, humiliation, no aftercare, imprisonment etc

hate is deleted and blocked

“Detective.”

Your head darts up, gaze meeting that of your irritated looking boss. He stands above you with folded arms, a displeased expression on his face. “Sir,” you greet him. You struggle to keep your expression blank, a smile pulling at your lips; you know exactly what he’s mad about.

He slams a sheet of paper down on your desk. “Why did you request to do this mission alone?” He asks, wasting no time. “Have you lost your mind?”

You don’t need to ask what mission he’s referring to; though you, much to his annoyance, are known for choosing to go it alone, there’s only one mission on your roster right now that’s dangerous enough to make him this agitated. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you lean back in your chair. You stretch your arms out above you with a yawn before sitting back up, eyes on him. “I’ve been watching these guys longer than anyone else,” you say. “Before anyone here would even acknowledge they were an actual threat. I know how they work.”

“Yes, we’re all aware of your qualifications,” your boss snaps. “But I wasn’t asking about that. I’m asking why you want to do this alone.”

You nod, a small concession and certainly the most he’d ever expect from you. “It took me a long time to fully understand these men,” you explain. “They’re incredibly volatile and unpredictable, even for a gang.”

“Even more reason to have backup.”

“No,” you disagree, shaking your head. “Even more reason not to send officers to their deaths because they don’t know what they’re dealing with or how to deal with it.”

His mouth opens and closes, formulating a response. He frowns, tapping a heavy black boot against the floor. “You really think that’s what it’d be?” He asks. “You think we’d lose men?”

“I’m certain,” you say. “I can’t emphasise enough how dangerous these guys are if you don’t know the way they work or how to stay on their good side. But I do know those things, sir. I’ve studied them for six years.”

He hums. “And you actually think you can handle it alone?”

You smile, nodding confidently. The thought of finally meeting these strange men in person has you a little queasy, but you know you can get this done. “It’s simple intelligence gathering, sir. I’m happy to have backup stationed a good distance away, but I’m not sacrificing good people for something I can do alone.”

He stares at you for a moment, searching for any signs of uncertainty before he sighs, nodding in defeat. “Very well,” he says. “I can see there’s no convincing you. You can do this alone if you’re absolutely certain that’s the best course, but you will call for help when you need it. The moment you need it. Understood?”

You smile, standing up to shake your still hesitant looking boss’ hand. “Thank you, sir. Understood.”

On the other side of Seoul, in a dark office piled with weapons and supplies, a screen lights up, buzzing with a new message.

4:37pm

unknown number: she’ll be coming soon. alone.

A man stares down at the message, a thin smile on his lips. It’s finally happening. The girl he’s been watching, who’s followed him around corners and stared into his windows for years, will finally stand in front of him, and she’ll be completely alone. He couldn’t have asked for more.

He sighs, twirling a knife around sullied fingers. Come, little dove.

—

Five days later, a taxi drops you off just on the outskirts of what has become their unquestioned territory. It’s an unassuming area, not rich by any means but not outwardly dodgy, either, and to the untrained eye doesn’t seem at all like gang territory. But you know better, of course. You know what happens behind the doors that quickly close as you walk by; you know the terrors behind the eyes of the men who leer at you as you venture further away from safety. You know this place, and you know that as far as anyone who knows anything is concerned, you’re not in Seoul anymore. As much as your boss may claim to, try to believe differently, neither the law nor the police nor anything can help you now. Every step you take now is taken at the mercy of the eight men you’ve come here to meet. The Owners, locals call them. You’ve come to know them as Ateez.

You walk with your head down, trying not to catch any more attention than being a lone woman at this time of night already commands. One hand is stuffed in your jacket pocket, fingering at your gun for reassurance while the other hangs at your side. Beneath your jacket, the black dress you’ve chosen to wear hangs just above the middle of your thigh. You hate the feeling of it, shorter and far less comfortable than the pants, jeans and shirts you’ve become accustomed to as a detective, but it’s all that was available for the very specific tactic you’ve chosen.

From your interviews of Ateez’s associates, or at least the ones who you’d managed to catch before they did, you know that they are extremely and understandably stingy with their information. Their personnel, operations and other intelligence is closely guarded on a completely need-to-know basis. It’s what makes trying to capture the lower-level members of the organisation such a pointless task; the majority of them don’t even know who their bosses are, let alone any useful information about them. In fact, the chances of actually meeting the men themselves are very slim even for people looking to do business with them; from several accounts you’ve ascertained that even trusted partners and allies will work with the organisation for years without ever meeting its leaders. No, the only people who get anywhere near the leaders and, more importantly, the information they possess, are the women who come and go from their penthouse on a quickly rotating basis, and according to your informants, always seem to emerge looking even more terrified than they’d entered.

As such you’d formed your plan; you’d enter as one of their hookers, with the clothes and parts to match, find out as much as you could, bug every inch of the penthouse, and leave with your satisfied clients none the wiser. A simple enough plan, but as your years on the force have taught you, not one that’s likely to go exactly as you expect. You just hope that you come out in one piece. Or that you come out at all.

You pull the jacket further across your chest, holding it tightly against yourself. Mercifully, the inconspicuous, but for you instantly recognisable building belonging to the organisation soon comes into view. By design it doesn’t stand out, except for the fact that it is quite a bit taller than its neighbours, but you know what goes on in there; or at least, you’re about to. You take a deep breath before biting the bullet and quickly stepping inside.

The interior of the building is just as uneventful; relatively clean but stained in places with substances you’d rather not think about. A few men shuffle around silently, looking up briefly when you walk in before quickly averting their gaze when they realise what you’re here for. It’s a well-known rule, apparently, that no one is to even think about a girl the leaders have had, even after they’ve discarded her. And with such a fast employee turnaround, it’s no mystery what they do to people who violate even the smallest of rules. The leaders — particularly the eldest two, you hear — run a tight, disciplined ship, and think nothing of throwing anyone overboard. Except each other, apparently; the one thing that every single one of the informants had vouched for is the tight, indestructible bond of the men at the helm of this operation.

A man approaches you nervously, asking why you’re here and you quietly whisper the name of one of your informants; miraculously you’d managed to turn one of the men Ateez frequently used to procure their companions, and he’d agreed to hand you over to them, essentially guaranteeing your authenticity; basically, he’d promised to vouch for you not being the exact thing you were— a snitch. A cop, at that. The man you speak to nods in understanding and directs you where to go and, thanking him with a smile, you make a note to thank your informant the next time you check in with him.

The further you venture into the building, your heart pounding heavier with each step, the nicer it becomes. When you step into the elevator, far nicer and more richly decorated than the front of the building, it becomes clear that the first part of your mission — breaching the restricted area — has been successful.

You step out on the top floor and the difference is obvious; polished floors and hallways lined with mirrors, paintings and flowers show you this is a part of the building few will ever see. This is the bosses’ world. Ateez’s world.

Breathing shakily, you knock on the doorbell the way you’d been instructed — five times, with a gap between the third and fourth. You hear voices before the door opens seemingly on its own, revealing the lavish interiors of the leaders’ apartments. It’s richly decorated with a dark, oak theme, and there’s not a person in sight.

“Hello?” You call out. Your voice almost seems to echo in the vast emptiness of the penthouse. “I’m here to see the Owners? Binwoo sent me.”

Silence abounds and then, just as you start to worry this has all been a big set-up to take out the only detective who’s gotten remotely close to the group, someone emerges. You recognise him instantly as the leader, Hongjoong. You’ve only seen him in surveillance, and very scarcely; the only time he ever seems to leave this place is when someone pisses him off so badly he decides to deal with them himself, so naturally the majority of your surveillance of him has been of torture and murder and pain. Seeing him in front of you now, not as tall as he looked from afar yet somehow even more imposing, those images of him — the things you’ve seen him do — play on repeat in your head.

When he raises a hand to wave at you, all you can picture is the black leather gloves he wears while he brutalises, covered in blood. Your blood, if this doesn’t go well. There’s a reason, you think, that the employees who don’t know this man’s name and thus resort to nicknames, have settled on The Butcher.

You gulp as you wave back. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your hands shake. “Hello, sir,” you greet. You bow politely, trying not to let on to the fact that you have any knowledge of who this man is or what he’s capable of. “I was sent by Binwoo to entertain you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, staring you up and down. “He did say he had someone for us,” he says. This is the first time you’ve heard his voice clearly, and you have to stop yourself from looking surprised at how… normal he sounds. Like a regular guy in his 20s, really— certainly not the monster you know him to be. In another situation, you think you’d quite like his voice. It’s gentle and welcoming and you could even see yourself getting flustered by it; but instead the voice, the man, everything about this moment, fills you with terror.

“Yes, sir. That was me.” You try your best to sound seductive, or even normal, but you’re not sure if he buys it.

He stares at you for a few seconds, eyes narrowed. “Take off your jacket,” he orders. Fear pulsates as you obey; you note that his voice is deeper than before. You hope it’s arousal— or even just curiosity. Anything but what you’re fearing it to be.

You take off your jacket as quickly as possible, hanging it up on the hanger next to the door as he instructs you. You stand in place, hands by your sides like your informant, Binwoo, had told you he teaches his girls to do. Wearing only your dress and heels, you feel more exposed and vulnerable than ever.

He stares at you for a moment before nodding, satisfied. “I’m Hongjoong,” he smiles. “What should I call you?”

You don’t think about your answer; you’d come up with a name while planning this mission, just as you always do. “Mira.”

He cocks an eyebrow, sceptical, but nods. It’s not uncommon for prostitutes to give a fake name, particularly in circles like this, so your obvious moniker shouldn’t be a problem unless he figures out the real reason you’re using it. You pray he doesn’t.

“Very well, ‘Mira’,” he grins. “I’ll take you to the others. They’re waiting for you.”

You follow him down the hallway; dark, ambiently lit, almost cosy. The sound of your heels on the wooden floor breaks the silence into small seconds, giving you a rhythm to follow and cling to as you walk towards what could very well be your doom.

Reaching the door to the dining room, Hongjoong spares a second to look back at you, offering a thin smile that could almost be reassuring before pushing open the door. The room is bigger than you could have imagined and impossibly lavish; more suited for royalty than a criminal syndicate. Along one side of a long, oak table that stretches much of the length of the room sit seven men, arranged to face you in an intimidating formation.

You recognise them all, each face unnerving you more than the last. It’s true, they’re all stupidly handsome — even more so in real life, you realise — but all you see on their faces are the countless, endless amounts of blood on their hands. You’ve seen some of it yourself, more than enough, but the stories are even worse; men, women, children, anyone who stood in their way, slaughtered like sheep. You could swear you hear the faint ringing of screams in your ear as they look up at you.

“Gentlemen,” Hongjoong says. “This is Mira.”

They greet you with interest, a few of them offering a smile while the others simply stare you down. “Turn,” one of them says — San, you think. You stare unsuredly at Hongjoong and he lifts an eyebrow; a silent order to obey. Slowly you turn around, letting them see your back side before facing them once again. They look pleased.

“She’ll do fine,” another, Wooyoung, says with a grin.

Your gaze catches his and you gulp, unnerved. Wooyoung was the person you were most nervous to encounter; though his demeanour is friendly, enthusiastic even, the stories you’ve heard about him are the worst. He kills, massacres people with ease and he does it with that same grin on his face. It’s more terrifying than the more calculated, stoic members, because while they’ve probably killed and maimed more people than him in the long run, they at least treat it with the seriousness it deserves. Wooyoung ends lives without consideration and treats it all like some kind of game.

“Um…” you start. “What would you like me to do now, sirs?”

“Unless anyone has any requests,” Hongjoong starts. He looks around at the others and when no one speaks up, he continues. “You may put your bag on the table then come back here to present yourselves to us.”

You nod, voicing a quiet ‘yes, sir’ before nervously making your way over to the table. Your grip on your bag is iron and you’re hesitant to let it go; your bugging equipment lies in a secret compartment at the bottom hidden beneath the makeup and toys you’d brought to make yourself more convincing, and to leave it with them feels like giving yourself away. But even if they check your bag, you think, they have no reason to think there’d be any kind of secret compartment. You’re safe. You just need to get this done and then you’re safe.

You walk back to where you were, alone this time — Hongjoong has gone to take his seat next to the oldest member, Seonghwa, and now you’re eight-to-one.

Seonghwa speaks for the first time and his voice is surprisingly sultry. “Take the dress off,” he says calmly. His eyes are narrowed. “I’d like to see what I’m working with.”

With shaking hands you remove the dress, carefully unzipping the expensive (for a detective’s salary, at least) fabric and sliding it down off your body. Clad only in black, lacy lingerie, you feel a deep flush across your face; you’ve never been so exposed in front of a man before; certainly not multiple men and certainly not dangerous, notorious criminals. A whistle sounds across the room, though you’re not sure who it came from, and you blush deeper. You feel the weight of their gazes as eight pairs of eyes hover over every inch of you, inspecting and scrutinising you silently. Seonghwa, the closest to you and with the sternest expression, can’t seem to draw his eyes away from your breasts. You swallow, feeling vulnerable and smaller than you ever have before.

“Turn,” Seonghwa says, voice commanding. “Let me see the back.”

You nod, turning once again, taking your time to give them the opportunity to rake their eyes up and down the back of you; no doubt hovering on your ass, globes cleverly exposed by your lingerie. You hear a few whispered comments and try to keep your composure; you almost feel the touch of their hands on your ass, squeezing and slapping it however they like. You know they want to; you hope they will— it will mean you’ve convinced them enough for them to let their guard down.

“That’s enough,” Seonghwa says. “Turn back.”

Relieved, you turn back to face them. You’ve passed one obstacle, you think. Seonghwa stares at you for a moment, expression unreadable before he curls a long finger, bidding you closer. You take a few steps before he raises his palm, stopping you, and you still yourself. His eyes rake over your torso again before he nods. He stares up at you with dark but interested eyes and a smile breaks onto his face before he speaks.

He says it so casually you almost miss it. “I know what you are.”

His voice is so soft you only just hear him and the words take a moment to hit you. When they do, your reaction is sudden and visceral; you heart drops into your stomach like stone, blood rushing to your head at a dizzying pace and you almost pass out. But you do your best to keep your reactions internal; you know the only way to make them more certain of why you’re actually here is to freak out and panic at the mere suggestion. No. You can play this one off. You’ve trained for this. You just need to de-escalate.

You clear your throat, tapping your foot against the floor. “And what’s that?” You ask, trying to sound sultry; your voice almost breaks on the last word but you catch it in the nick of time. “A whore?”

Seonghwa’s lip quirks. “You know,” he says. “That’s not as far off as you think. But no.”

You almost want to huff at the jibe he’d thrown at you, but you remember your situation, the danger you’re in and choose to stay on his good side.

“What am I, then?”

“We don’t really need to say it, do we?” Hongjoong interjects. There’s no anger in his voice; he sounds somewhere between bored and amused. “We both know already.”

You reach up to your chest, to the chip you’d hidden in your bra in case you needed to call for backup, but a loud laugh stops you.

“Are you calling for backup?” Wooyoung grins, confirming what you already knew — they know exactly why you’re here. They’ve figured you out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, still fighting your case. Your voice starts to falter as you speak, composure beginning to crack. Some small, stupid part of you still seems to think there’s a way out of this, but you know there’s not. They know your secret. And even if they were wrong, if you were innocent, this is their territory and their house— if they say something is so, there’s no arguing.

“You are,” Wooyoung laughs.

“And that backup,” Hongjoong interjects again, “they wouldn’t be the officers we found in vans on the next block, would they?”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, jaw dropping in disbelief. No. The next block? Does no one listen to a fucking thing you say?

“I—”

“I wouldn’t bother calling for them,” Seonghwa says. You hear a few chuckles from the others, clearly enjoying this. “I don’t think I need to explain why.”

No, you think, he doesn’t. You know what they do to spies and traitors — what they’ll do to you. You can only hope they killed your colleagues quickly. If you somehow ever make it out of here, you’re going to do the same to your boss — you told him to station backup far away and this is why.

Starting to panic, you begin to back away but your pathetic attempt only takes you a few steps before Seonghwa barks, “Grab her!”, and the two men nearest descend on you.

Your years of combat training are no match for the strong, probably better-trained men, and within seconds they have you fully restrained. You struggle in their hold and the taller, Mingi, harshly grabs your hair, yanking it back to force you to stare the others straight in the face.

You expect to see anger, even bloodlust when you meet their gaze, but you don’t. Other than Seonghwa, who seems irritated at your attempt to escape, they look… unbothered. It doesn’t make sense, you think. Not with what you were trying to do and especially not with how painfully close you came to doing it. For having almost had their entire network penetrated by one terrified looking woman, they look strangely calm, like they’re entirely unsurprised by this development, and you don’t know why. Unless…?

You hold back a groan as the realisation hits you. “You knew.”

Hongjoong smiles, amused. “We’ve always known, Mira. You think we wouldn’t realise we were being watched?”

You bow your head. You’re still terrified, knowing these men have killed countless people with the blank, unbothered expressions they wear now, but right now the overwhelming, crushing emotion is just… embarrassment. You feel like a rookie again; cocky and confident with your badge and gun until you fuck up for the first time and it all comes crashing down.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

You hear someone snort and look up to see Wooyoung, giggling almost gleefully to himself. “Aren’t you meant to be the smartest on the squad?” He laughs. You hear a few others chuckle too. “Didn’t you tell your boss you ‘knew everything about us’? But you didn’t consider the fact that we might know you?”

He makes a good point, you realise. But while you figured they’d know they were being watched, with your high-tech surveillance equipment and ability to blend into a crowd, it had barely crossed your mind that they might know who was watching them — certainly not that they’d somehow know the exact things you’d said about them. They must have bugged you, you think, or somehow gotten a spy into the department to listen in on your discussions on them. You guess you owe them more credit. And a lot more fear.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say.

“I’m certain you are,” Hongjoong says. “Now you’ve been caught. Are you keen on proving it?”

You look up, confused, hopeful and terrified all in one. You thought you’d be dead by now, shot on sight. And if they intended on killing you slowly, torturing you for information before finally letting you die, you figured they’d have started by now. Or at least made any attempt to move. They could still do it, of course, but they don’t seem in the mood for that. They look… curious.

“P-prove it?” You stutter. “How?”

A few of them smile, mouths curling into thin smiles and you shift uncomfortably. The two oldest share a look before Seonghwa nods and seemingly out of nowhere, Hongjoong pulls a gun, setting it carefully but loudly on the table. He keeps a hand on the trigger and his eyes on you as he speaks. “Firstly,” he says. “Don’t try to run. I’d hate to stick a bullet through your pretty face but if you bolt, that’s exactly what I’ll do. And I know you’ve seen yourself how excellent my aim is.”

You gulp. Hongjoong’s right. Through the lenses of your binoculars you’ve seen him — all of them, in fact — make some almost impossible shots. Certainly more impossible than a woman in heels trying to escape from a locked room. There’s no point trying to run. You’ll leave when — if, you think with a shiver — they allow you to.

You feel yourself deflate, nodding defeatedly. “Okay.”

“Alright,” he smiles. “Mingi, Jongho, let her go.”

The men holding you stare almost petulantly at their leader but he raises an eyebrow and they relent, releasing their grip. “Not a fucking toe out of line, Mira,” Mingi whispers in your ear. He says your ‘name’ like it’s diseased.

Despite being released, your body refuses to move; it stays paralysed in the same position, too terrified to even shiver. A blessing in disguise though, you suppose; Hongjoong looks pleased. “See,” he smiles. “It’s so easy to just be good for us, isn’t it?”

You try to respond but all that comes out is a small, pathetic squeak. A few chuckles sound out across the room and your gaze catches Yunho, who, though appearing calm, in his eyes looks just on the edge of feral. You gulp.

Seonghwa is the first to move; he says your ‘name’ lowly, curling a finger towards you. “Come here,” he orders.

You approach him as slowly as you can excuse, soon enough ending up inches away from him. He looks you up and down, inspecting your body with dark eyes.

”You’re shivering,” he says softly.

You manage to force out a few words. “I’m cold,” you reply. “And…”

“And scared?” He asks. You don’t respond, but you flush pink and he chuckles. “Clever girl,” he says. “You should be scared. I’ve never liked the way you seemed so… fearless about us.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, eyes flashing when you jump in surprise. “So flighty,” he mutters. “Sit on my lap.”

You don’t know if you would resist if you could but that doesn’t matter; your body, seemingly in survival mode, moves of its own accord to straddle him. His hands settle on your waist, just above your ass and he smiles.

“Still shivering,” he chuckles. “Good girl.” He leans in close enough that only you can hear as he whispers; “San’ll be much nicer to you if you stay this terrified.” You gulp, eyes flickering in the direction of the man mentioned; he’s watching you intently, face blank but he’s clearly not one to mess with. He’s so much more intimidating in person.

“Now,” Seonghwa says, and you turn your gaze back to him. “Let’s see what you can do for us, hm? Open your mouth.”

You hesitate briefly, but quickly obey, parting your lips slightly. Seonghwa runs his thumb across your bottom lip before he tugs at it to open your mouth further; before you know it a wad of spit lands on your tongue, and he closes your mouth again. He taps your cheek. “Swallow,” he says.

You pray your boss never finds out about this; straddling your enemy’s lap and swallowing his spit on his command. Then again, you’d be lucky to see your boss again at all. You don’t particularly trust that they’ll spare your life just because you let them fuck you. This feels more like playing with their food.

Seonghwa pushes two fingers into your mouth, ordering you to suck. They push to the back of your throat, making you gag but you keep them inside, sucking them desperately and trying to ignore the way your body screams at you to get them out. “Sucking me so good,” he grins. “You’re gonna look so pretty with our dicks in your mouth.”

You can’t help the moan that slips out; nor the flood of relief that washes over you at the praise. Maybe they will let you live after all.

Seonghwa thrusts his fingers lazily in and out of your mouth, letting you choke and gag on them as your throat slowly adjusts to the intrusion.

“I must say,” he says. There’s curiosity and knowing in his eyes; a knowledge of something you think is secret. It unnerves you even further. “You’ve come around to this remarkably quickly. I really thought you’d put up more of a fight, petal.”

Noises of agreement sound out, the men chuckling to themselves. “Pathetic,” you think you hear Yunho say.

“You know, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says. You turn in surprise at his voice— sitting in Seonghwa’s grip, those dark eyes burning into you, it’s easy to forget there’s anyone else in the room. Hongjoong smiles amusedly at you before he continues. “It’s almost like she wanted to fail. Like she wanted us to realise what she was because she knew that’d mean we couldn’t let her leave.”

You manage to stop yourself from scoffing— thank God, you think, because the pistol on the table in front of Hongjoong is ever present and you’ve seen him use it on others for a lot less. But come on. That’s ridiculous. You’ve been after them for years, never for a moment with any intention other than locking each and every one of them up for good. You try to protest but Seonghwa clamps his palm over your mouth, shushing you. “You might be right, Joong,” he smiles. “That would explain why she came here so poorly prepared. Like a lamb to slaughter.” He removes his hand from your mouth; his fingers brush over your lips and linger a little longer than you can justify.

Hongjoong chuckles. “Is that it, little lamb?” He asks. “Were you hoping for this?”

You shake your head, determined to refute him but to your horror, part of you starts to wonder if there might be some truth to his words, if you… no. No way. Of course you weren’t hoping for this. Still, your hesitation tells them more than you want them to know. “I…”

“She was,” Seonghwa grins. “Naive little girl.”

You frown, brows furrowing. “I’m not—”

Before you can finish your sentence, a deep voice you recognise as Yunho sounds out, silencing you. “Will you stop fucking talking back,” he snaps, almost shouting. He leans over to where you’re still held firmly in Seonghwa’s grip, eyes dark. “I swear to God,” he whispers.

“Yunho,” Hongjoong replies before you can, tone warning but amused. “Don’t be mean to her. She must be so scared right now, hm?” He turns back to you, narrowing his eyes. “And maybe something else?”

“She’s horny is what she is,” Yunho snorts dryly. “Dripping for us yet still with so much attitude.”

“She can’t resist,” Seonghwa says. “It’s in her bones, isn’t it?” He strokes your face with a gentleness you’d never expect from him; but the knowledge of how easily he could and might still kill you makes it a lot less comforting. “She wants to hate us, knows she should but this feels so right, doesn’t it? So good.”

You whine, shaking your head; you know you’re past the point of resistance now but you can’t bear to fully submit. There’s no coming back from that. Seonghwa sighs, stroking your hair. “As soon as you give in,” he says, “this will get so much easier.”

“I—”

“Hm?” He asks. “What? You can’t?”

You shake your head and he smiles. “You can, Mira,” he says. “You will.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could make this all go away just by blocking it out. You hear them chuckle, then before you know it you’re being lifted up; you open your eyes and see Seonghwa has stood up, still holding you in his arms, before laying you down on the table with your legs hanging over the edge. Your stomach twists as you realise the position you’re in; completely exposed and at their mercy. Ripe for the taking. Your hands are lifted above your head and you look up to see Yunho, holding them together firmly in one hand. Seonghwa’s hands come to rest on your hips again.

“Open your legs.”

You whine, shaking your head squeezing your thighs together. Seonghwa scowls, displeased and wraps a calloused hand around your plush upper thigh. He stares you down, eyes dark as he starts to squeeze. His sharp nails dig into you, piercing the skin ever so slightly under the pressure. You whimper, squirming a little but he doesn’t react.

“Open them.”

Cold metal touches your temple. You don’t need to look to know that Yunho is holding a gun to your head. You swallow thickly, trying to stay calm. At this point, you’re not disobeying on purpose; you’re not stupid enough to think that would work. But in the thick of adrenaline, where your body had once obeyed of its own accord, now… it won’t move.

Seonghwa gives Yunho a pointed look and then the gun leaves your head. Now in the elder’s hand, he puts it down for a moment before, with one hand on each thigh, he spreads your legs open with ease. “There we go,” he hums.

The steel of the pistol is ice cold against the warmth of your inner thighs as he moves it slowly up your legs until it points directly at your pussy. Covered by the thin black fabric of your panties, you nonetheless feel entirely exposed, like he can see right through them.

The end of the gun comes to press up against your panties and you feel the cold steel through the fabric; but where it presses against your clit, pressure slight but noticeable, it’s almost nice. It doesn’t move; Seonghwa keeps his hand still in place, watching with a small smile as you try to conceal your pleasure. He pushes it against you slightly, making you gasp, and gestures to your panties.

“Take those off,” he says. “Quickly, if you want the safety to stay on.”

You scramble to obey, tugging them off and discarding them next to you. With a small smile, Seonghwa picks them up and stuffs them in his pocket. You bite your lip. “Sir,” you whisper.

He hums, cocking an eyebrow before placing the gun back where it was before. This time he presses it more firmly against your clit and you squirm. “Nice and still for me,” he murmurs.

Turning your head, you see the other men gathered around the table. They’re just… watching. No one looks affected, no one’s touching themselves; they’re just watching their friends take you apart with entirely blank, focused expressions. Like it’s a clinical procedure.

Unnerved, you turn back to face Seonghwa just as he slips the gun ever so slightly into your pussy. You gasp, almost crying out but Yunho quickly shoves his fingers into your mouth, silencing you. “Now, now,” he cooes. “We don’t want to make them angry, do we?” His voice is sickly sweet and condescending and the most terrifying thing you’ve ever heard. You shake your head, still gagged by his fingers and he chuckles. “Good girl.”

Then the gun is gone as Seonghwa pulls it away— a string of wet, sticky liquid following in its wake. He smiles knowingly and you wish the earth would swallow you up. You’ve creamed on a fucking gun, shoved up your pussy by your worst enemies. You’ll never come back from this.

“My, my,” you hear Hongjoong chuckle. You turn to meet his eyes and he tilts his head, smiling innocently. Seonghwa grabs your face to force your gaze back to him. “Stop looking away,” he says. “I’m the one fucking you.”

The gun clatters down and without warning Seonghwa’s long fingers are penetrating you; two, you think, maybe three. He doesn’t ease you into it (why would he, really?), just quickly stretching you out on his fingers. And then Yunho’s there too, standing next to the elder and watching him work you open with dark eyes.

Soon they swap places, and while Seonghwa’s fingers are certainly large, Yunho’s are something else entirely. His fingers pump in and out of you efficiently; your pleasure clearly isn’t what’s on his mind, but rather, working you open for something bigger. He certainly pays no mind to your reactions; even as you whine and cry his eyes never move from your pussy as you come more and more undone around his fingers. He’s focused, dangerously so.

Once his third finger sits comfortably in your pussy, he pulls them all out, leaving you gaping and empty. You whine at the loss and he chuckles before he picks up his gun again. He runs it up and down your thigh with light, teasing touches.

“Want it in you?” He asks.

You nod, desperate. At this point, you wish you felt shame— you wish you were embarrassed and humiliated to be debasing yourself like this for your targets; but instead you’re just aroused. Completely, overwhelmingly, suffocatingly aroused. “Sir,” you whisper again.

He grins, twirling the gun in his hand. The ease with which he handles it is a stark reminder of where you are, who these men are. It does nothing to lessen your desperation.

“Very well,” he says. “Stay still, Mira. Wouldn’t want the safety coming off accidentally.”

Accidentally. You almost scoff. You’re a detective; you know a thinly veiled threat when you see one. And this is barely veiled. Still, you do as he says without complaint, keeping your legs spread and pussy open for access as he presses it against your entrance. It goes in surprisingly easily; lubricated by your gushing pussy and it’s as humiliating as it is exhilarating. You make a noise of discomfort, biting down on your lip until you taste blood; half of pleasure and half of pain.

The steel is cold and inhuman and the edges push painfully against your walls and it’s degrading and terrifying. Yet at the same time it feels so good to be used and demeaned in this way; to be fucked open not for your pleasure, not even his pleasure, but purely for his own amusement. You know every noise or face of pain you make is making him harder and it’s a rush you’ve never even felt from sex. Fuck. What is wrong with you?

At this point, you don’t even know who’s talking; people and voices blur into one distant, surrounding haze.

“She’s loving this,” someone says.

“Sick bitch,” another spits, then, “we should keep her.”

Then the gun is gone, and you’re suddenly empty, your walls clinging to nothing— briefly. Within a few moments something else nicer, warmer, better is sliding into you; you look up, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as he pushes into you. He’s large and thick, bordering on this side of too much, but it feels… good. Fuck. You’ve never felt like this in your fucking life; neither, it seems, has he.

“Fuck,” he choked. “Tight little whore. So fucking good.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, lost in a fog of pleasure and clinging to the rhythm of his quickening thrusts. Half of you wants to forget who it is that’s doing this to you, making you feel so good; the other half thinks this is the only dick you want for the rest of your life. But with each thrust of Seonghwa’s dick deep inside you, slamming against your cervix each time, you become less and less able to think of anything at all— except the waves of painful pleasure washing over you, and your desperate desire for it to never, ever stop.

It’s just your luck that, just as you feel yourself approaching your climax, Seonghwa pulls out without warning, leaving you empty and leaking. You’re about to cry out in protest when you find yourself flipped over, pressed down and bent over the wooden table. You feel the two men behind you, kneading your ass, and a sharp slap lands against it before Seonghwa pushes back into your pussy again.

“Hwa,” Yunho says. “I don’t think she’s full enough.”

Seonghwa slows his pace, and you feel his stern, scrutinising gaze on you. “You’re right,” he says. He spreads your ass cheeks, making you gasp, and he chuckles. “Look at that little asshole clenching. I think it wants to be filled.”

Yunho makes a noise of agreement, pressing a finger to your rim and making you jump. “Think she can handle my cock in there?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Yunho says nonchalantly. “But I’d rather not break her completely. She’s too tight, it’d be a waste.”

“Fine,” Seonghwa says, slowly starting to thrust again. After a few moments, he pulls out, and you feel Yunho’s long fingers enter your pussy. You whine, confused, but a slap of Seonghwa’s hand against your thigh silences you. Yunho’s fingers pull away, replaced with Seonghwa’s dick again, before Yunho’s fingers are on your asshole, pushing into the rim with— oh. He’s… he’s using your slick as lube.

“Dirty girl,” he mutters. It takes embarrassingly little time before he manages to fit all three fingers in there and he stills. “You ever been fucked here before?”

“N-no,” you gasp, squirming under the two men’s grips on you.

“Good,” he says. “Hold still.”

The feeling of his cock pushing past your rim makes you scream— it’s fucking maddening; painful and pleasurable and pretty much every adjective you could use to describe anything. You don’t even recognise the sounds you’re making now; you barely sound human, squealing and crying like an animal.

“Yeah,” Yunho grunts. “Bark, bitch.”

You’re fully sobbing now, a broken, dripping mess as two cocks pump in and out of you. Seonghwa’s fingers are digging into your hips, no doubt leaving bruises to match those blooming under the impact of your colliding bodies each time they thrust. Yunho’s hands are in your hair, tugging your head backwards; it stretches your neck painfully, but you doubt he cares; the only thing on either of their minds is using you for their own satisfaction. Only the sound of laughter reminds you of the presence of the other six and you crane your neck to look at them.

“Look at her,” Jongho laughs. “Taking it like a fucking whore.”

Emboldened by his comments, Yunho speeds up, thrusts getting quicker and harder by the second. You feel your walls clenching around his cock, squeezing him each time he moves.

Seonghwa’s thrusts are just as fast, hitting you just as deep, but in the more familiar cavern of your pussy, they’re not quite as overwhelming as Yunho’s. You can tell by their tightening grips on you when they’re close, slowly losing their control.

“I’m gonna fucking cum in you,” Yunho growls. “I’m gonna get you pregnant and fucking keep you here. Our little breeding bitch.”

You cry out, half pleasure half pain, and it pushes you over the edge; with a shout he releases inside you, hot load filling you up and leaking out around his dick before he pulls out. Seonghwa follows quickly, unloading in your pussy before pulling out, leaving you fucked out and leaking onto the floor.

“Disgusting bitch,” someone says.

Seonghwa touches your hip almost gently, and you find yourself crumpling to the floor, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Sat in a pathetic heap, you faintly see the men surrounding you.

“You did a good job, Mira,” Hongjoong says, and he almost sounds fond. “A maid will take you to your cell.”

Cell. The word hits you like bricks crashing down; knocking the wind out of your chest and dropping you back into your reality— you tried to beat them. You failed. You’re trapped. You know they see the terror creep back onto your face. You imagine they enjoy it.

Seonghwa pats your head, and for a moment it looks like he wants to kiss you; instead he just smiles, nodding curtly before following his brothers as they walk away. Hongjoong is the last to exit, leaving you alone, still crumpled on your knees and covered in cum on the floor of the hall. Before he closes the door, he turns back to you; his eyes hover over your shivering form and a smile flickers.

“If you can keep this up, Mira,” he says, “we’ll probably let you live.”

The slam of the oak door echoes around the room.

thanks for reading! i think this is darkest fic i’ve ever written. i’m trying to start branching out into more plot-heavy fics along with the usual smut, so this is something of an attempt in that area. your feedback is much appreciated and motivates me to write more. reblogs and comments are appreciated. requests open. love🖤🖤🖤

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #mafia ateez #ateez au #ateez fanfic #dom seonghwa #dom yunho #mulloey writes

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 day ago

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I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. ��Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

#harry potter fic #fred Weasley fic #fred weasley smut

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