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ariichive · 5 months ago

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JEALOUSY☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

jealous scenarios ft. phainon, anaxa, and mydei!

gen. neutral reader

cw: anaxa is kinda crazy he puts his gun to reader, possessiveness, mentions of violence, fluff, not proofread im so tired :')

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

phainon

phainon was one to pride himself on his natural charm, he was a very easy going guy. the stark contrast between him in battle and off was admirable.

though as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes the warrior takes over his instincts. for instance, right now as he watched the droma’s caretaker openly flirt with you.

it wasn’t just the flirting—though that was annoying enough—it was the way you laughed, the way your eyes softened, the way you didn’t immediately pull away. phainon knew you weren’t his, not in the way that would justify this sudden surge of possessiveness. but logic had never been good at taming instinct.

his fingers twitched at his side, an old habit from years of battle. the part of him that thrived in combat, the part that didn’t hesitate when faced with a challenge, whispered at him to act. it would be so easy to step in, to slide an arm around your waist, to make it clear to everyone in the room—especially to the man standing too close—that you weren’t available.

but that wasn’t his place. not yet, at least. so instead, he forced himself to take a breath, to unclench his fists, to remind himself that he was phainon—charming, laid-back, not the type to pick a fight over something so trivial.

“phainon, this one likes me!”

his stoic expression softened when he realized, in fact, you were talking about the loving dromas and not that man.

phainon smiled gently at your joy, “i can tell, he sure does like you a lot!”

there was a certain edge to his voice that could’ve been missed by onlookers. you gave him a concerned glance, one which he smiled at and didn’t question further.

and yet, when the caretaker let out another laugh, explaining the most basic knowledge of dromas ever, his hand brushing against yours, phainon found himself smiling again. it wasn’t a friendly smile.

“having fun?” he asked, voice smooth but carrying an edge beneath it as he finally approached the two of you.

“yeah—!” you were quick to respond only to look up at phainon and realize his attention wasn’t on you. “phainon..”

“yes my lovely spouse, who i treasure more than any riches and i’d also kill for?” now his attention was focused on you, his smile bittersweet.

the thing with phainon is whenever he looked at you, there was always such intensity.

“don’t start, i’m okay i promise.”

there was a joking tilt to your voice, but it was enough to calm him down.

“now, come over and feed the dromas with me! this one’s name is castor, very sweet we should take him home!”

phainon let out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "my love, as much as i would adore bringing castor home, i fear he would not fit through our door."

you laughed, reaching out to pet the dromas, who nuzzled into your touch affectionately. "we could make it work," you teased, "build a bigger door, you're strong enough. or, you know, just let him live in our backyard."

phainon hummed in thought, stepping closer until he was right beside you. "tempting," he mused, reaching out to pet castor. "but then i’d have to compete for your affection, and i don’t think my heart could take it."

you rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. "oh, please. you already know you’re my favorite."

his grin softened into something more genuine, his blue eyes filled with something tender. "good. because my dearest, you are mine." phainon swears the dromas narrowed its eyes at him (the caretaker did too but phainon was too busy enjoying the memoment with you to get mad all over again).

you burst into laughter as the dromas let out a soft sound, clearly pleased with itself. "maybe if you were as cute as them, you’d stand a chance."

phainon clutched his chest. "wounded. utterly wounded."

but despite his theatrics, he leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours as you both continued to feed the dromas together, the warmth between you as steady as ever.

...

"y'know, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take one home, then we wouldn't have to come back here. i can't believe that vile man had the nerve to even look at you..!"

"phainon, my dear, we are not actually going to take one home."

"...i like the name kevin, wouldn't you agree, [name]?"

the rest of the day was spent with phainon in your ear.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

anaxa

the carefully crafted lunched in your hands was the least of your worries as a soft click was heard from behind you followed by a pressure being applied to the back of your head.

just to think; you went out of your way to bring lunch to your oh-so-kind boyfriend and this is how he greets you?

you would say you're surprised but... this isn't the first time something like this has happened.

"do tell me, what's the foul mood for now?"

he didn't appreciate the snarky comment as the gun pushed against your head even more.

"my [name], you seemed to enjoy yourself outside with that man. would i be correct to assume so?"

so this is what he's mad about.

you exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "if you must know, i was just making conversation. you know, something normal people do?"

the gun pressed harder against your skull in response, the warning clear. anaxa hated being mocked.

"careful," he murmured, voice quieter now, more dangerous. "i'm already being generous by allowing you to explain yourself. do not test my patience."

you tilted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. his expression was unreadable, but his grip on the gun was steady—too steady.

"allowing me to explain myself?" you echoed, amusement creeping into your tone. "and here i thought my oh-so-loving boyfriend would trust me a little more by now."

anaxa exhaled sharply through his nose, but he said nothing. the silence stretched between you for a few moments before the pressure at the back of your head finally disappeared.

anaxa let out a low hum, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp—jealousy, possessiveness, something only he could wield so effortlessly. "you know how i feel about you entertaining the company of other men," he said, tilting his head slightly. "and yet, there you were, laughing as if you had no care in the world."

you sigh, "i promise you it was a very brief interaction. i even told him i was visiting you for lunch."

anaxa looked away in faux annoyance as he gently took the lunch from your hands.

"thank you, [name]." anaxa was genuine in his thanks, he understood how troublesome it could be to reach him in the grove of epiphany.

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "i'd say 'you're welcome,' but i'm not sure you deserve it after that stunt."

he sighed dramatically, setting the lunch down on his desk before taking a seat. his movements were as measured as ever, graceful even in something as simple as this. "you wound me, truly," he drawled, undoing the buttons of his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. "but i suppose my cruelty knows no bounds, does it? threatening my beloved over something as insignificant as a passing interaction."

"so you admit it was ridiculous?" you quirked a brow, leaning against the edge of his desk.

anaxa leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you with a gaze so heavy it felt like an unseen weight pressing against you. "i admit nothing," he corrected, voice as smooth as ever. "but even the most brilliant minds are prone to… lapses in judgment."

you let out a small scoff, shaking your head. "right. 'lapses in judgment.' is that what we're calling your absurd jealousy now?"

he exhaled through his nose, as if considering your words, before finally opening the meal you had brought him. "call it whatever you like, my dear," he said idly, plucking a piece of food with deliberate ease. "but tell me, if i were to flirt so freely with another, would you be so composed?"

your mouth opened, but the words died on your tongue. anaxa watched your hesitation with something akin to satisfaction, his smirk deepening ever so slightly.

"i thought as much," he said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate bite of his food. "jealousy, my dear, is a universal affliction. i am simply more… expressive about mine."

you huffed, looking away, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "you're insufferable and lucky i have the patience for you," you muttered.

he let out a soft chuckle, low and indulgent. "patience," he mused, reaching out to brush a gloved finger against your cheek, slow and deliberate. "such a rare and commendable virtue. though i must wonder..."

his touch trailed lower, tracing the curve of your jaw before finally resting under your chin. with the lightest pressure, he tilted your face ever so slightly upward, forcing you to hold his gaze.

"how much longer will that patience last, i wonder?"

you swallowed, refusing to look away. "depends," you said, barely above a breath. "how many more times do you plan on pulling a gun on me?"

anaxa’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, but his eyes flickered with something softer—something dangerously close to fondness.

"ah," he sighed dramatically, finally releasing you and leaning back into his chair. "a fair question. but, my dear, you wound me. surely you know by now that i only threaten the things i cannot bear to lose?"

you stared at him, feeling both shocked and flustered.

you huffed, shaking your head as you finally relented, letting the conversation settle into something resembling peace. and despite everything—despite his absurd possessiveness, his impossible nature, his maddeningly smug demeanor—you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

because somehow, against all logic, against every ounce of reason—anaxa was yours. and that was something even he, with all his sharp words and sharper wit, could never deny.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

mydei

mydei always found himself in petty competitions with phainon. whether it was who could pick the most apples to who could slay the most enemies, phainon always knew how to push his buttons.

though he might’ve pushed them a little too far..

“afraid you’ll lose? i would’ve never guessed that the great mydeimos was scared of talking to a girl. or are you scared [name] will end up liking me more?”

“deliverer,” mydei said with a scary amount of joy in his voice, “tell me, do you enjoy being humiliated by a kremnoan heir?”

“so is it a deal?”

“if that’s what you wish to call it, we’ll start now. try not to make an utter fool out of yourself. you won't even be able to touch them."

there was absolutely no way mydei was going to even let phainon breathe the same air as you.

phainon grinned, entirely unfazed by mydei’s sharp tone. “oh? possessive already? my, my, what will [name] think of this? surely they've noticed your crush on them by now.”

mydei exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. “they will think nothing of it because you will not get the opportunity to so much as look at them.”

phainon laughed, tilting his head with an almost lazy confidence. “bold words. i wonder if you’ll still be saying that once they’re hanging off my arm instead.”

the barely restrained fury in mydei’s eyes was almost comical. “you delude yourself.”

“and you’re stalling.” phainon shrugged, already turning on his heel. “come now, mydeimos. unless, of course, you are afraid?”

mydei scoffed, stepping forward with an air of unwavering confidence. “i fear nothing—least of all a fool with an overinflated ego.”

the competition had begun.

mydei was the first to find you. he's always remembered the places you often frequented, the bathhouse being common among them.

mydei found you tucked away in one of the quieter corners of the bathhouse, steam curling through the air in delicate wisps. he approached silently, his footsteps barely making a sound against the stone floor.

he had always been observant—perhaps more than you'd realized. no matter how much time passed, he never forgot the places you sought comfort in.

"i thought i'd find you here," he murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through the gentle trickle of water. "it's peaceful here," you said softly, returning your gaze to the water, watching a rubber duck float by.

after a long moment, you glanced at him, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

"you always find me."

mydei's crimson eyes softened, a rare hint of fondness breaking through his composed exterior.

"of course," he said quietly. "you're worth finding."

mydei had a huge advantage over phainon; everything that came out of his mouth was genuine.

you felt your body heat amplifying from his intense gaze, the steam from the bath worsening your situation.

the air between you two felt thick with unspoken words, the steam in the room only adding to the intensity. mydei’s crimson eyes were locked onto you with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read something deeper than just your expressions.

“you know, you really don’t make this easy,” you muttered, trying to divert your thoughts, the heat rising in your chest feeling like it might burst through your skin.

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving yours. "make what easy?"

you shifted uncomfortably, the faintest of blush creeping onto your cheeks. “this... this tension.”

mydei tilted his head slightly, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. “tension?” he repeated, his voice smooth and calculated. “i’m simply speaking the truth.”

you shot him a glance, his words echoing in your mind. you’re worth finding.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard him say such things before, but this time, it felt different. There was no teasing, no veiled sarcasm—just the raw sincerity that mydei rarely offered.

“you never do anything half-heartedly, do you?” you said, a small sigh escaping your lips.

mydei didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence looming like a silent promise. His gaze softened as he spoke, but there was still a quiet intensity behind it.

"only when it’s worth it," he said, his voice almost a whisper, but it still hit you like a wave.

your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

he moment hung between you two, the weight of his words settling deep within you. mydei’s presence was suffocating in the best way—an intensity that seemed to radiate from him, the kind that made it impossible to think of anything else but him.

you opened your mouth, but the words stuck. something about his steady gaze and the closeness between you left you speechless, your heart thudding in your chest.

“mydei…” you whispered, almost as if testing the air, "would you like to join me in the bath? i'm sue it'll help relieve any sores you might have?"

mydei's gaze flickered to you, and for a brief moment, the quiet intensity in his eyes softened, replaced by a curious, almost amused glint. he took a step closer, the space between you two shrinking even more.

“you offer me company in the bath?” he asked, his voice holding a hint of surprise. “how… bold.”

you could hear the teasing undertone in his words, but it wasn’t as biting as usual. there was something more… tender in the way he spoke, something that made your heart flutter despite the calmness of the moment.

“i only thought it might help you relax,” you replied, keeping your tone light, though your pulse quickened slightly under his steady gaze. “and you’re always so tense. even the crown prince needs to rest now and then.”

mydei let out a quiet chuckle at that, the sound warm and soft, like the fleeting warmth of the bath. "i’m afraid i’ve never had much time for relaxation," he murmured, his tone shifting again, darker, but with an edge of something more vulnerable. "but perhaps you’re right. it’s been... a long time since i allowed myself the luxury."

there was a pause, and you could see the weight of his words settle over him, like he’d just made a decision. his eyes softened, and he took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gently took your hand.

"then, i’ll join you. for once, perhaps i could allow myself this."

as mydei settled comfortably next to you in the bath, he couldn't help but wonder where phainon had been all this time.

and there was a small voice in the back of his head, saying 'if phainon found you first, would you have invited him into the bath with you?'

he glanced sideways at you, his gaze unreadable for a brief moment as he tried to suppress the discomfort he felt at the idea.

as he took in your relaxed face, mydei realized how important such moments were to the two of you. this was just the start of many more scenarios he would spend with you.

if you enjoyed please consider following/liking/reblogging :)

i just love the idea of unhinged anaxa

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr anaxa #anaxa x reader #mydei fluff #mydei x reader #phainon #phainon x reader #phainon x you #hsr mydei #honkai star rail mydei #amphoreus #hsr #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #anaxa fanfic

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checkeredflagggs · 2 months ago

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Stepping Up

Pairing: oscar piastri x spouse!reader

summary: when tragedy strikes Oscar’s in-laws, the Piastri’s step up.

a/n: needed to write something angst and this is what happened.

Warnings: Parental Death

Masterlist

Phone Call, Family Lawyer

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 728,823 others

f1gossip: Uh-Oh! Something seems to be wrong in the world of Oscar Piastri, seen here rushing away from the Chinese GP despite his stunning win.

view all comments

user1: I hope everything is ok…

↳user2: I wonder what’s it’s all about…

↳user1: I suspect we’ll find out

user3: do you think it has anything to do with y/n? They weren’t at the GP and they’ve said they love the Chinese one!

↳user4: oh that’s a good point!

↳user5: oh I love y/n and Oscar

↳user6: they are such a cute couple!

↳user3: this is all making me hope I’m wrong…

↳user4: ngl me too — Oscar almost never runs off like that and for it to maybe include y/n?!?

user7: ok so i know he’s like rushing and maybe panicking but like? He’s so adorable?!?

↳user8: omg thank you for saying that i thought i was the only one

user9: sending good thoughts and vibes their way, if something has gone wrong…

user10: some gossip from the paddock is that not even Zak or Andrea knew why Oscar left in such a rush

↳user11: oh man that’s really not a good sign…

↳user12: not at all…

Private Messages, Zak and Oscar

Bluesky

user12: shit really??

user13: who?!

user14: ok but it would be fucking hilarious if this was about Max and Kelly?!?

↳user15: hilarious but that’s been known forever

user16: ok but who is it talking about?!

↳user17: Well it’s not the Ferrari or Alpine men

↳user18: not the Williams or Haas men either…

↳user19: just did a deep dive on the revolving door of Redbull and Racing Bull drivers — not likely

↳user20: I don’t think it could be any of the rookies??

↳user21: probably not George and Lance doesn’t have another girlfriend (that we’re aware of)

↳user22: Fernando or Nico??

↳user23: that’s my guess

↳user24: I’m gonna go wild shot and say Y/N Piastri!

↳user25: and I’m gonna say you’re crazy!

↳user26: they’ve never talked about kids and y/n has been so open about their life — it’s not them

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user and 827,382 others

f1gossip: Movers spotted going in and out of the Piastri residence in England! Is this the end for our favorite McLaren couple?

view all comments

user27: it better fucking not be

↳user28: your honor they’re my emotional support couple — they can’t be split up…

↳user27: you get me

user29: ok where are you getting this from?! They could literally just be getting new furniture or something?!?

↳user30: this looks like they’re taking EVERYTHING from their house though…

user31: what if y/n is the one who had a kid from a previous relationship?!

↳user32: don’t even speak that into existence

↳user31: no but listen — y/n misses the Chinese GP (despite saying it’s among their favorites and saying they’d be there)

↳user31: then Oscar is seen rushing from the race and then goes silent for like 2 weeks

↳user31: during that time we get a gossip piece that a racer’s partner has kids from a previous relationship

↳user31: and now there’s movers in front of the Piastri house?!

↳user31: Oscar found out about the kids and they’re breaking up about the secret

↳user33: I’ll agree with everything but the last bit — I think they’re moving to make space for a kid in their lives

↳user32: I like that thought more

f1partners

liked by user, user, user, and 493,923 others

f1partners: Missing in action! Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s spouse, has been absent for a third GP in a row — a shocking twist compared to last year when the Piastri’s ruled the paddock! Trouble in paradise or just a break in the chaos?

view all comments

user34: hey! Let’s normalize leaving them alone???

user35: they don’t have to go to every single race you know?!?

user36: let’s be real here — those 2 are so disgustingly in love, let’s stop it with the break up rumors??

↳user37: so true! They’ve literally never looked at anyone else ever

user33: user31 more proof I think! Y/N is definitely staying home to help the kid acclimate

↳user31: I’m starting to agree…

user38: ummm if Oscar is free…

↳user39: I want to know if they need a third!

↳user40: ok user38 you can have Oscar but I’d do some major crimes for even a moment of y/n’s time

↳user41: mood

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

f1_updates

liked by user, user, user, and 627,823 others

f1_updates: Post Oscar’s win in Saudi Arabia, he seemingly dodged all questions related to his spouse, Y/N Piastri, and the persistent rumors of an imminent divorce. More proof of trouble?

view all comments

user42 or maybe he just wants to talk about his race???

↳user50: right? Like ask him about stuff that actually matters!

user51: god i wish people would just leave it alone???

↳user52: someone who gets me. like what does it matter if he and his partner are having issues or not??

↳user53: we’re here to watch him race, not speculate over his relationship status

↳user54: ^^^^

user56: I know it’s because he’s annoyed but god he’s so hot

↳user57: ngl i was watching yuki in the back being a cutie

↳user58: so real for that

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

mclaren

liked by y/n, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 2,822,293 others

tagged: y/n, oscarpiastri

mclaren: Watch out Imola! The Piastri’s have arrived!

view all comments

user59: 3 kids?!?

↳user60: my jaw? Dropped!

y/n: Oh McLaren admin you didn’t have to roll out the red carpet!

↳mclaren: anything for our favorite Australian and his family!

↳y/n: you spoil me liked by mclaren

oscarpiastri: glad to have you guys here 😃

↳y/n: we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

user61: ohmygod the Piastri’s are so cute!

↳user62: they really really are

charles_leclerc: does this make me a grandfather?

↳oscarpiastri: it does, yes

↳y/n: family dinner Tuesday

↳charles_leclerc: I’ll be there!

landonorris: uncle Lando to the rescue!

↳y/n: rescue from what??

↳landonorris: your ice cream-less existence!

↳y/n: you’re watching them when the sugar high hits liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri and y/n

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, logansargeant, and 1,834,734 others

oscarpiastri and y/n: Earlier this year, tragedy struck our family when y/n’s parents unexpectedly passed away in a car crash. In the aftermath, our lives were turned upside down when we took custody of y/n’s younger siblings. Since then, as many people have noticed, y/n has taken a step away from Formula 1 to focus on helping their siblings acclimate to a new life. As we continue to settle into our new normal, we ask for a measure of privacy and of grace — we’re happy together and that’s not going to change.

view all comments

user63: oops

↳user64: I bet some people are feeling very stupid right now

landonorris: make some space cause uncle Lando is on his way!

↳y/n: if you have any kind of candy or sweet food on you, turn your ass right around

↳user65: Shut. Down.

↳landonorris: 😣😣

user66: ok I’ve only had the Piastri’s for like a week but if anything happened to them, I’ll kill everyone then myself

↳user67: big mood

logansargeant: space for an American?

↳y/n: always Lo 🧡

charles_leclerc: how do you guys feel about dogs?

↳y/n: very enthusiastic

↳alex_albon: good because we’re converging on your house with furry cuddles

↳y/n: that’s gonna make some rounds on the internet Alex

↳alex_albon: regretted it immediately

user33: I told you all

↳user31: yes you did

Taglist

Please interact with my taglist post if you want to join — I don’t always check the notes on the individual posts

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @lost4lyrics @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @il0vereadingstuff @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @princessesgarden @galaxygurlll @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @moonypixel @nikfigueiredo @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @mimisweetz @books-fangirl-books @woderfulkawaii @fastandcurious16 @lilyofthevalley-09 @rexit-mo @alessa-the-enchantress @1800-love-me @greantii @toodeepintofandoms @tukes @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lecfosimaxbull @dramaticpiratellamas @devilacot @supernatural-harrypotter7 @nightrose-18 @alexxavicry @vhkdncu2ei8997 @purplephantomwolf @shadowreader07 @spilled-coffee-cup @stuffyownswrld

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kdh-tally · 1 month ago

Text

Saja Boys x Manager!Reader

Prompt : 9 minutes and 42 seconds of the Saja Boys falling for their manager

Author's Note : Since my “10 mins of Rumi and Jinu parenting Baby and Zoey” went well I wanted to make another but with the Saja Boys and their manager!! Tried my best to make this gender Neutral!!! If i missed anything let me know (I'm half asleep writing this)

[“WELCOME TO : 6 times the Saja Boys fell for Y/N (their manager) in 9 minutes and 42 seconds”] [Intro Music : “Gabriela” by EYE-KONS plays in the background] 📝 Narrated by: delulu4rujinu (what my u-tube user would be)

Time Stamp [00:08] [Scene: The Saja Boys being forced to do minimum wage jobs. ] Youtuber’s Caption (YC) : “This is specifically Y/n and Romance at Sephora”

There was an extremely long line leading out of the building and around the street. Why? Romance from the Saja Boys was currently running a free make up program.

He and the other boys had been forced to split up, with each member being forced into minimum wage jobs for a day. He, however, had been sent to his happy place. A beauty store.

Y/N watched in exhaustion as customer after customer came in, begging the man for advice on what they could possibly do to help with their appearance. “Thank Heavens he isn’t an actual make up artist,” they sighed, rubbing the incoming headache out of your forehead. “These poor people would go broke so quickly.” YC : “They’re not wrong 😭”

As the day came to an end and the store closed its doors to the public, Romance came up behind his pretty manager, wrapping his arms around her torso, his face buried in their neck. Y/n, already used to this behavior, ruffled his hair as she texted instructions on what the remaining boys should do while home alone.

“That didn’t go too bad right pretty?” The man hummed contentedly.

“You surprisingly made a decent amount of money,” y/n praised him, turning off their phone and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Good job cutie”

Romance stood, fully stunned, as they walked off. Receiving any form of affection from the normally stoic manager was an achievement worthy of bragging about. So he quickly pulled out his phone, immediately contacting the boys group chat.

Romeo : Y/n called me cute and gave me a kiss🤤

Spicy Baybie : So... I think it’s about time we pushed you off a bridge!

Furry : Define kiss

Romeo : Physical contact through lips

Furry : As in their lips on yours?

Romeo : …. I mean….

#1 WWE Champ : Man got a kiss on the cheek and went crazy 💀

Time Stamp [01:32 ] [Scene: Baby refusing to eat. ] YC : “That time Baby forced Y/n to feed him cause he was 'injured' ”

Baby was live for the first time in days. There had been no real reason for his random disappearances, he just didn’t feel like going live. Prior to him setting up the stream, he had asked the Pride what they would like to see him do.

The amount of people who begged him to do a spicy food mukbang was incredibly high and so he got to preparing. “Hello Pride~” he cooed at the camera before panning the view around the kitchen.

Comments flooded the chat as the fans took note of their manager sitting comfortably on the kitchen counter. As he placed the phone on its stand, giving it a good view of where they would be working, he continued to talk, “Today, Y/n-ie and I are gonna be making spicy food for my mukbang later.”

“Hold on what? I never agreed to-”

“Anyways,” he smiled, clapping his hands together to silence his manager, who was staring at him in disbelief. “Let’s begin shall we?" YC : “The way none of them ever let Y/N finish their sentences bro 💀”

Though they hadn’t agreed at first, Y/n decided to help out with the cooking process. Chopping and mixing whatever Baby needed mixing. As he moved to stir the pot of spicy ramen, he had underestimated how hot the metal spoon would be and ended up burning himself.

“Baby!” y/n gasped, quickly moving his hand under the tap to run over lukewarm water that she slowly turned to completely cold. She pulled out a healing balm from one of the cupboards before applying it to his hands. “You sit here, I’ll finish the rest” she ordered.

Baby nodded, it didn’t really hurt—demon powers and all—but he didn’t mind letting his pretty manager pamper him a bit. YC : “He’s actually a child 😭🙁”

Y/n was quick to finish the food. She plated it neatly in front of the boy before stepping out of frame. He merely looked at her, easily forgetting he was live, before pointing at his injured hand with his good one. “I can't eat”

“Why Baby?”

“I’m right handed.” Unfortunately, his right hand was the one that was injured. That was how Y/n ended up feeding him every bite of his meal, the boy was kicking his feet under the table as he ate.

Spicy Baybie : Okay so what kissed your cheek? She literally fed me a whole damn meal 😋

Romeo : You could've done it yourself I know for a FACT you weren’t even hurt 😒

Spicy Baybie : Womp Womp Loser

Time Stamp [03:45 ] [Scene: Y/n doing Mystery’s hair. ] YC : “Y/N wanted to try a new hairstyle on someone"

You know that feeling when you watch a five minute tutorial on how to do absolutely anything on youtube and then you all of a sudden feel as though you’re an expert in whatever you were trying to do?

That was Y/n. They had just watched a tutorial on making a wolfcut and needed to practice on someone. Now, all the demons were fortunately able to grow their hair back at alarming rates, but it also meant any of the five would be perfect test subjects.

As they walked into the dorm lounge, their eyes narrowed on their target. “Mystery~ You wanna help me out?”

Said boy looked up from his nintendo switch, eyes barely peeking out from behind his thick bangs. He said nothing but simply nodded in agreement. Beaming, Y/n moved to sit behind him on the couch as he sat on the floor.

She already had her scissors and comb so she was ready. She gently laid the boys head back so it rested between her thighs before she began to cut layers into his hair. At this point, Mystery had turned off his switch to focus on the feeling of their hands running through his hair.

“You don’t mind me doing this right?” she double checked as she evened out the side layers before parting his bangs so she could see his eyes. They were sharp but gentle and very expressive, but he nodded.

“I don’t mind,” his voice rang out through the room. Y/n nodded before continuing and quickly finishing up.

They pulled out a mirror from who knows where to place in front of the boy. He looked at his reflection, running a hand through his new haircut, he actually liked it. His eyes were a lot more visible now but he didn’t mind. YC : “The hairstyle ATE DOWN you guys 😩”

“Thanks Y/n”

“No problem! Call me if you ever want your hair done again,” they grinned before heading off to learn another tutorial.

Furry : [Selfie image of his head between Y/n’s thighs as she does his hair]

Spicy Baybie : Choke Die Suffocate

#1 WWE Champ : All in favour of kicking him out of the group say “i”

Time Stamp [05:16 ] [Scene: Y/n allowing Abby to sleep on her. ] YC : “I’d let him sleep on me too not gonna lie”

Y/n laid at peace on the living room couch. They had finished organizing the boys schedule for the next few weeks and was taking a well deserved nap. The boys had entered, taken pictures of their cute manager, and headed in their own directions.

All of them except Abby. He had gone to his room, changed into pyjama bottoms, he could never find a comfortable top, and headed back to the living room. Without saying a word, he gently scooped his unknowing manager up, laid down under them, and placed them back on his chest. YC : "I want a personal teddy bear too :/"

He prayed they wouldn’t wake up or berate him and it seems as though his prayers were heard. Y/n cuddled closer to the new source of warmth that was being provided, humming in content once they got comfortable.

Abby wrapped his hands around her waist before letting himself fall asleep as well. It couldn’t get better than this.

#1 WWE Champ : [Image of Y/n sleeping on him (his face is in the photo and he’s smirking at the camera)] Probably wish you could be me huh?

Jinu-us (Genius 😉) : When will it be my turn?

#1 WWE Champ : Try again in maybe 400 life times?

Spicy Baybie : They still wouldn’t want him then 💀

Romeo : Jinu, are you going to take that disrespect from children???

Jinu-us (Genius 😉) : I’m not trying to get banned like Mystery 🧍

Time Stamp [07:21 ] [Scene: Y/n in Jinu’s clothes] YC : “Y/n and Jinu switched outfits”

The boys were live again, this time it was Jinu and Mystery. They seemed to be bonding over losing their group chat privileges. Mystery stayed interacting with the fans and reading comments while Jinu scrolled through tiktok.

“Could you do the outfit switch trend?” Mystery read a question out loud before looking to his leader, “You know what that is?”

Jinu shook his head before searching it up, Mystery watching next to him. It seemed to be a trend where k-idols would switch clothes with their managers. Jinu’s eyes sparkled as he realized it was going to be his turn to have a cute moment with Y/n.

He immediately sought them out, Mystery walking slowly behind him. “Y/n! We need to–”

“Switch outfits I know,” they motioned to their phone in hand where they watched the live steam.

“You watch my lives 🥺”

“I watch all of your lives. Now are we going to do this or?”

He nodded and they both went ahead to change. As Y/n stepped back out into the camera view, the couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. Jinu was a pretty tall guy, so even the small t-shirt he had on completely engulfed Y/n’s slightly shorter frame.

His pants were too large for them so they had to hold them up by the waist. Overall, they looked like a “wannabe hiphop musician from 1995,” Mystery let out a huff of amusement. YC : "Guy's I didn't know Mystery had jokes like that-"

Jinu was no better. Fortunately for him, Y/n usually walked around in big shirts and comfortable sweatpants. However, it was quite the fit on him, staying tight in inconvenient places.

However he couldn’t care less. Simply watching Y/n laugh at him in his clothes filled his heart with that warm fuzzy feelings all of the boys got when around their manager. Gosh they were down bad.

Spicy Baybie : Jinu embarrassed himself on live stream. Again! Your mom must be so disappointed :( Oh wait–

Jinu-us (Genius 😉) : I should've left you in the pits of hell with Gwi-ma

Romeo : That’s actually crazy 🙁 Apologize to Jinu, his mom and his sister Oh wait–

Jinu-us (Genius 😉) : I’m going to steal Rumi’s weapon and kill all of you myself.

Time Stamp [9:42] [“Thanks for watching!! Don’t forget to like, comment, and send some love to Y/n so they don’t die 💋😉🙏”] [Outro Music: “New Jeans” by Bunies]

3K notes · View notes

it-was-summer · 2 months ago

Text

Busy Woman

A/N: I do not wanna see ANY Minors in this bitch. Seriously. Like you'll get it when you get older I promise. This worm has been wiggling around in my brain for MONTHS. Things have been so busy that it's been a real struggle trying to write. I really hope you all like my excuse to write porn. Thank you to @cafekitsune for the border/dividers used. Thank you to @beenreidingaboutyou and @alsofoundinpeas and practically the WHOLE discord server for letting me send this google docs to you and yapping with me about logistics (positions at one point I'm sure). Enjoy!

Link to the AO3: Busy Woman -> Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Smut with plot. Reader is a maneater, some she/her pronouns at one point or another, PinV sex yall, wrap it up!!!! condoms my beloved (they are not used here, reader and the team go out drinking, spencer reid yapping, reader is a dommy mommy idc Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, he’s a whiner, SUB SUB SUB SUB Spencer, nothing too crazy sexually (in my eyes), i forget something else this is porn, no creampie for you!!! (I know... i know..).

Genre: Smut w/ Plot. Pairing: ManeaterBAUFem!Reader x Season4!SpencerReid

Plot: After spending countless months watching you break men's hearts, Spencer is surprised when you call a sudden dating hiatus. Amid your 'break,' you confide in your lanky coworker how much you miss certain physical intimacies. Spencer is quick to offer a solution.

Word count: 11,827

A man-eater… by definition, is a woman who uses men to have a series of sexual relationships but does not love the men. The thought of being one of those men has been lingering in the back of Spencer’s mind for the past eight months.

He knows, of course, that you’re more nuanced than that feeble definition. The team never misses the opportunity to tease you; your dating habits are an ongoing joke and mystery within the bureau. Derek often jokes that the two of you are peas in a pod, which, in turn, makes you respond that he’s the one with commitment issues, not you. You insist that you’re just picky.

You’d give any guy a chance until they disappoint you, and then you’re gone. You knew what you wanted from them, and if they couldn’t fulfill those ‘duties’ (as Emily jokingly puts it), then it wasn’t worth it. Spencer hates to admit it —to you or anyone else— but he loves how you detach from them.

He likes how you lure them in with honey and how they drop like flies at your feet— that trap of yours working effortlessly. It feels strangely voyeuristic, which makes him feel like a creep, but he swears it isn’t like that. If he could describe it better, he’d say it was more like a form of admiration. He likes that you know what you want out of your relationships. The way you don’t stick around and accept bad behavior. It’s exceptional and incredibly intimidating. Maybe femme fatale would be a better title, though he doubts you’ve ever destroyed a man’s life, as that definition suggests. Distress? Most definitely.

His eyes are glued to you now as you brush a stray hair behind your ear, how your brows knit together when you’re concentrating, watching as your left hand plays with the chain of your necklace. Tearing his eyes away from you, he focuses on the map on his desk, circling the location of the recent body discovered earlier that morning. JJ leans over his right shoulder, her blue eyes looking at the work-in-progress geographical profile with silent intrigue.

She leans away from him, folding her arms across her chest, getting lost in thought until her gaze lands on you. You were so focused a few minutes ago, but now you’re looking at one of the officers across the station. He was young, about the same age as Spencer, if she had to guess. His uniform is a little loose on him, the material around his arms droops, and his shirt hangs off his body in a way that makes it obvious he’s wearing a size too big for him.

She watches with you as he tucks it into his pants nervously, his fingers adjusting his collar as he mutters something under his breath. He’s handsome, boyish, with decently styled brunette hair. His dimples pop when he gives one of his fellow officers a slight grin— just your average prey. “Don’t give him that look.”

Your eyes are on her in seconds, and she holds back a laugh when she sees your offended expression. “What look?” You sound shocked, glancing at the young officer. “I was just people-watching.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is hunting.” JJ counters as Emily walks in with a coffee in hand.

“Oh? She’s on the prowl away from home? Down girl, down!”

You frown, eyes narrowed as you look between the two women taunting you. “I’m not a dog. A girl can’t make an observation anymore?”

Emily shakes her head as she pulls her coffee cup away from her lips, “Not when the girl is you.”

Your frown deepens, looking at Spencer with a look that silently pleads for help. He can never resist that look— it’s one he knows well. He looks over his shoulder at JJ and gives her a light pout, “I don’t think that’s a fair assumption of her character.”

JJ’s eyes shine with amusement. This is how the dance usually went. You’d be selecting some poor gentleman as your next meal, they’d tease you about it, and then Spencer would come rushing in to protect your honor— assuming you had any, to begin with. “Spencer the Valiant enters into the arena, ladies and gentlemen.” Her hand comes up to playfully ruffle his hair.

Spencer fails to dodge her efforts. “Don’t,” he grumbles as he swats at her hand as it touches his already messy curls. “Do that.” He can never catch a break when it comes to being teased by the team.

You grin, watching Spencer flatten out his hair carefully, rearranging it until it’s slightly neat and wavy. You silently motion to him that part of his hair is still sticking up and watch as he blindly tries to fix it. Watching him struggle with his hair, you break the usual respect you show for his personal space, leaning over and smoothing down the cowlick with a soft chuckle.

His cheeks are red, watching you lean away from him, his gaze awkwardly avoiding yours. “Besides,” You begin, looking at the young officer with a charming smile. “You and Will make it work, don’t you?” You ask, talking to JJ without looking at her.

JJ scoffs a little, watching as the young officer looks up from his desk and across the station— he won’t last. You give him a little wave and flirty smile combo before looking at JJ. “Don’t even think about it,” JJ warns, but you technically don’t have to do anything. You shrug a little, looking down at the evidence pile on your desk.

Not while the young officer stands up, smoothing out his too-big uniform and taking large strides over to you. You don’t have to look to know he’s coming. JJ shakes her head with Emily when he arrives at your side. When he clears his throat, you don’t look up from your task, twirling a pen around your fingers.

The way you look up with gentle doe eyes and a polite smile on your lips as you turn to face him has Emily holding back a giggle. You blink a little, eyes reading the name tag on his uniform— David Miller. “Can we help you with something, Mister…” You trail off, acting as though you hadn’t just read his name tag.

“Miller and I don’t need help from all of you, maybe just you.” His voice is slightly deeper than you expected, and he sounds confident— which is fine— you just thought he’d be the shy type.

You let out a soft ‘ah,’ nodding slowly like the idea just occurred to you. “Well, as sweet as that is,” you don’t even let the poor guy officially ask you out. You just openly assume. “I’m afraid we’re all swamped working on this case— myself included.” You watch his broad shoulders slump slightly— the action doesn’t even last a full second— and you sigh like you’re contemplating something. “But maybe we could get a coffee in the break room?”

His demeanor brightens, eyebrows raising as he asks, “Now?”

You shrug, looking at the clock on the wall, “Ten minutes.” Standing, you brush off your jeans, as if this sudden coffee date weighs heavily on you. “You coming?” As you walk towards the breakroom, the question hangs in the air, and you don’t even bother looking back to see if he’s following you.

Three days later, Spencer watches you frown at David. Words can not describe how much he hates David. Well, many words could describe how much he dislikes David, but Spencer Reid is not a man to spit petty remarks at a man undeserving of them (though some may disagree). In truth, he only dislikes David because he envies him a little… he’s lying to himself. Spencer Reid envies that man with an intensity that rivals forest fires.

Spencer watches as David’s lips form words he cannot hear— words he’s sure you know all too well— Stay. He watches as you give David a small, sympathetic smile. His gaze lingers on your plump lips as you lean in to press a chaste kiss to another man’s lips, and he can imagine the sticky, sweet tone of your voice as you tell him that you have to leave.

Once you’re in the backseat, you relax your shoulders with a huff. Derek shakes his head at you in the front seat, staying quiet as the black SUV drives off towards the airport in this small Maryland town. Spencer knows that he should stop watching you, but it’s like he’s bewitched.

Your lip gloss is a faint pink— messy. You probably left some of David’s lips. Spencer wonders if it has a taste; he’s seen you use a cherry lip balm a handful of times. He can imagine kissing you, slow and sweet to start, if he had the time, getting hungrier and hungrier with each press of your lips on his. He wonders if you’d let him drag his tongue on your bottom lip and let him get a taste of cherries and skin. Could he pull on that full bottom lip with his teeth– “Spencer!”

He blinks, hazel eyes focus on yours. You chuckle, airy and slightly concerned, “Are you okay? You’re staring.”

Derek barks out a laugh from the driver’s seat, “When isn’t he?”

Spencer shakes his head, mainly at Derek’s idea of a joke, but also because he doesn’t want you to think something is wrong with him. His smile is unconvincing and quick: “I’m fine.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, trying again. “Just thinking about you and David. H-He seems nice.”

You shrug, hair falling into your face, “I guess he’s nice, yeah.” Then you lift a hand, waving the idea off like it’s bothersome. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again.”

Derek groans out, “Surprise, surprise.”

Spencer manages to keep the smile off his face, but his voice gives him away: “Why not?” he sounds elated.

You move with your hands, throwing them up before letting them rest on your outer thighs, slumping a little in the seat. Your eyes search the car’s floor, as if it’ll help you find a good enough answer. Why not? He’s not what you envisioned in a romantic partner. He wasn’t gentle, well-spoken, or even stimulating.

He seemed like a good conversationalist during that ten-minute coffee break, but he kept pushing for a late dinner with you. When you finally relented, you found he lacked any real substance. He was… dull, hot, but bland. He didn’t have strong beliefs like you, lacked wit, and seemed entitled.

Sure, you could have let him take you home and given him something to remember you by. But, considering how dull he was over dinner, you doubted he could impress you in the bedroom. Why go looking for disappointment?

You force a small smile, gentle eyes leaving the SUV’s flooring to look at Spencer. “Didn’t pass the benchmark, I’m afraid.” It’s meant to be a joke, but your delivery is slightly off. You sound somewhat saddened by the fact, and Spencer debates asking you what’s wrong. However, discussing your dating life is not his strong suit. Instead, he simply delivers a curt nod, lips drawn into a tight line as the car falls silent on the way to the tarmac.

A week later, it’s one of those rare days when the BAU team stays in DC. Indeed, this week is a way to make up for lost time. Spencer has heard about two coffee dates, one dinner date, and how you’re going on a lunch date this upcoming Saturday. Not that you’re telling him necessarily; he tries his hardest not to ask about your dating habits out of fear that you’ll eventually catch on to his hopeless crush on you and break his heart before he’s mentally prepared for such a tragedy.

No, he hears about your escapades from Penelope, Emily, or JJ. Mostly in passing gossip sessions, he hears when he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. He’s not the biggest fan of gossip, especially when said gossip is about a coworker, but he can’t stop listening when it’s about you.

The second he hears your name leave one of their lips, he pours his coffee a little slower in the break room or takes smaller bites of his lunch. He even held the elevator doors for the group of women on a handful of occasions so he could silently listen in. Morgan says he’s whipped (and after Spencer gets clarification on what that terminology entails, he nervously disagrees).

He’s just a naturally curious person. His high IQ can be blamed here— you’re a constant question on his mind. He cannot solve you, and every time he thinks he’s close, you switch it up on him.

Penelope is trying to be discreet—genuinely— she’s walking at a normal pace, a rested smile on her face, and the feathered flower pinned into her blonde curls shakes slightly as she approaches Emily’s desk. Her eyes look towards your desk, glad to find you lost in conversation with Anderson. Spencer watches her anyway.

Emily’s eyebrows raise as Penelope leans down and whispers something into the small space between them, which is effective because Spencer can’t hear anything (much to his dismay). Emily reels her head back, shocked as she mutters in disbelief, “No way.”

Penelope beams, nodding quickly and letting out a drawn-out “Mhm!”

Spencer wonders if it has anything to do with Anderson. Could they be alluding to the two of you getting together? Spencer would feel nervous about the idea, but you never dated coworkers. Besides, Anderson didn’t have that boyish charm you so adore. Spencer thinks he can mark him as safe.

But what else could it be? He’s trying his hardest not to stare at Penelope and Emily as they whisper to each other a few feet away, his eyes darting around the case file in his hands as his mind runs away with him. His gaze occasionally flits over to your desk, taking note of that polite smile you’re sporting. Yeah, you’re definitely not into Anderson.

Something work-related? No, that sounds ridiculous the second he thinks it. He blinks, forcing himself to set down the case file and mull over all the probabilities. He feels like it’s too obvious to be a date. You go on those all the time. And he doubts it's a second date update because those never end well for you. However, there is a slight chance that this time, it did.

He’s still in the process of analyzing every bit of information related to you when he hears an open laugh from Penelope as she follows Emily over to your desk. Anderson is nowhere to be seen as you settle back into your desk chair, barely looking up when Emily asks, “You’re taking a break from dating?”

“Derek is such a gossip.”

“Don’t blame him, he can’t resist me.” Penelope sighs out.

Emily dismisses the comment with a slight wave, “For how long?”

You shrug, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “I don’t know. Until I feel like talking to a man again?”

“Oh my god, an indefinite hiatus!”

You chuckle a little, “Why do you care so much?” You couldn’t imagine your dating life being that interesting. Then again, you have dated some questionable people.

Penelope gasps, hands reaching her chest, “Why do we care? You’re the only thing that saves us from boredom. You’re water in this gossip dessert. Don’t let us dehydrate, please, please.” Her palms press together as she begs you.

A strange laugh escapes you, your shoulders shaking as you giggle. “Listen, I really need—” You gently swat at Penelope’s still clasped hands, “I need a break from all the disingenuous compliments and ploys to get into my pants—” you scoff. Spencer’s heart stutters in his chest; he’s empathetic towards your feelings. He wants what’s best for you, of course (that and this could be his once-in-a-lifetime chance to see you be wholly unattached, his chance). “I need to be alone and work on some things before I date again, simple as that.” Well, so much for his chance.

“She’s so wise.” Emily turns to Penelope, her tone mocking. “Isn’t she so wise?”

“Oh, on par with Buddha.”

Your eyes shine with amusement, though you keep your tone serious, “Yes, laugh at me all you want for being a healthy person.”

Two months later, your hiatus is still going strong. Spencer has not seen or heard of any flirty endeavors surrounding you, much to the other’s dismay. It’s true in a way, gossip is drier during your dry spell. There’s been no mention of terrible dates nor any mention of bad kisses on first dates, or worse, lousy lays.

Spencer has never had any issues talking to you, but lately, he’s noticed you’re prone to daydreaming. You’ll stare off sometimes during a lull or mutter to yourself in the breakroom. He wants to ask how you're feeling amidst your break from dating, but it feels like such an intimate topic that he’s hesitant to approach it.

So now, he’s watching you watch Emily flirt with some stranger at the bar. This week has been grueling, with case after case. It never gets easier, but moments like these—the whole team spending time together—make it less painful at the end of the day. Spencer’s nursing his whiskey, always a slow drinker, but his attentions are on you as you roll the straw of your mojito between your fingers.

Eventually, after a quick sip of whisky, he gains the courage to ask, “Everything alright?”

You jump at the sound of his voice beside you, but you still smile at him when you turn to look at him. You open your mouth for a moment, then close it again, then open it again, “Yes.” You say in a strange voice— a twisted mixture of confident and drained.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, his expression letting you know that he doesn’t truly believe you. You laugh a little at that look of disbelief before your shoulders slump, and you mutter a soft, “I sort of miss dating.”

“Sort of?” It's more confident, more teasing than he’d like, but it just slips out of him. His cheeks are tinted the prettiest shade of pink, and you try your hardest not to stare at him.

Your eyes shift to the drink in your hands, fingers leaving the straw as you elaborate on the topic. “I don’t know. I didn’t think I would miss the flirty conversations or feeling wanted.” You trail off for a moment, eyes not meeting his for a moment. “Does that make me sound,” Your eyes finally reach his, “Conceited?” Your gaze is so full of worry that he has to stop himself from shouting his answer upon impact.

Instead, he swallows down a shocked breath, shaking his head. “No! No, you’re not conceited. That’s normal, considering all the attention you…well, attract.”

“Great,” You murmur, frowning. “You think that I’m some shameless, attention-seeking seductress,” gazing downcast at your mojito.

Spencer laughs nervously, “What?” He can’t deny that the seductress part might be true— you could seduce a saint, he’s sure. “I think a lot of things about you when I think about you, but shameless, attention-seeking seductress is not one of them.”

He’s melting at the look you give him. Head slightly bowed, looking up at him through those long lashes of yours, full lips in a slight pout. “Really?”

“Really.” He squeaks, much to your delight— the alcohol is messing with your head.

You sit a little straighter at that, sighing, “So, what do you think about when you think about me?” You ask, teasing Spencer wasn’t something you did often. The team teases him so much that you feel bad joining in. But you can’t help yourself, not when he’s looking at you with his gorgeous, honey eyes. All wide and deer-like, fuck, he’s pretty.

You would feel bad for thinking about your coworker like this, but in the dim lighting of this bar, you find that you don’t mind. Truth be told, if Spencer Reid weren’t your coworker, you would have worked some charms on him a long time ago. He was so pretty, so receptive to new ideas, a genius, a man of his word. God, he was so sincere. Why is that such a turn-on?

You drag your tongue along your bottom lip, lost in thought, a movement not lost on Spencer as he can’t seem to take his eyes off your lips. His mouth is dry, and his voice is caught in his throat as he stammers out a gentle, “What–” he clears his throat, trying to stop his voice from sounding so high, “What do I think about?”

That slow smile makes his heartbeat skip a beat, he’s seen that smile before, and he’s screwed if you decide to do anything more than teasing him. “Yeah, you said you think lots of things when you think about me. I’m curious.”

“Well, I, uhm,” He swallows, his tongue feels like sandpaper. His eyes shift down to his whiskey, his gaze shifting between you, his drink, and the table. “ I think you’re kind. You’re always willing to help a friend, like when you made all those meals for Penelope after she got shot.” Your expression softens at that, your teasing smile melting into something warmer. He takes this as a sign to keep going, “You’re considerate. I think you could make Hotch smile, I’m sure you have, all because of your sense of humor. You rarely judge people; you’ve never judged me. You’re empathetic, seeing you connect with people so easily, it’s— you have this gift for shifting your perspective, and I—”

“Spencer,” You cut him off with a gentle touch of your hand on his. You’re quiet for a moment, eyes searching his, looking for some kind of sign of deception, but finding none. Your gaze warms him to his core, melting away anything cold residing within him. “Thank you.”

He lets out a soft stammer of confusion, about to ask you why you’re thanking him, but instead, he regains some of his composure and nods. “Anytime.” He hates how cold his hand feels when your fingers leave his skin. Everything about you is so warm: your smile, your laugh, your touch— and against all reason— he’s sure he could survive frigid winters as long as he spends them by your side.

An hour later, you’ve ditched the idea of feeling sorry for yourself. You were seemingly determined to make your own fun. And you were. Penelope had bought a second round of drinks, and you chose something a little stronger than the mojito from before, and drank it fast. It wasn’t enough to get you drunk, but it did give you a slight buzz, feeling looser now as you spun around the dance floor with Penelope.

Penelope’s sure that your voice will be gone from how loud you’re singing to the song the DJ just started playing, laughing harder as you place a finger to her lips, grab hold of both of her shoulders, and dance to the beat.

Spencer isn’t a dancer, well, he can slow dance, but he doubts he could keep up with you right now. So, he lingers on the sidelines of the bar. He —like many of the men at this bar— can’t take his eyes off of you as you spin around in a sloppy circle. The way you move your hips in a circle has his head cocking to the side, focusing on the slope of your lower—

A chuckle can be heard beside him, making Spencer stand up straight, turning to look at Derek. Derek, who has the biggest grin on his face, is shaking his finger at Spencer. Spencer rears back his head, giving his friend an odd look. “What?”

“Nothing.” Okay, so he’s lying. Derek stuffs his hands in his pockets, acting aloof as Spencer stares him down. Derek, however, has his attention on you and Penelope. “You know,” there it is, “She’s gonna need someone to walk her home.”

“Who?” For a genius, Spencer can be incredibly dense at times.

Derek sends a deadpanned look his way, eyebrows raising, waiting for Spencer to catch on. Spencer blinks, his brows furrowed in confusion, oblivious to what Derek is saying. Derek groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose before dragging his hand down his face.

He then points over to you, Spencer’s gaze following his finger. “Ms. Vixen, Pretty Girl, the Man-eater of the BAU, the temptress of the —” Spencer holds up a hand, cutting him off.

“I get it, okay?” Even though he knows that Derek’s joking, Spencer’s tone still comes out clipped. He forces his shoulders to relax.

“She’s going to need someone to walk her home,” Derek says in a calmer tone, his shoulders shrugging slightly.

Spencer stammers, flustered with the idea of walking you home. To be honest, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He wouldn’t let it. His imagination runs wild when it comes to you, and he daydreams about the oddest things— the taste of your skin, his palm on your lower back. “Didn’t she come with you and Penelope?”

Derek clicks his tongue, “Nope, she lives two blocks over, walked here.”

“Oh,” He responds lamely, his arms crossing over his chest. He chews lightly on his bottom lip, thinking it over. He had his whiskey over an hour ago and had been nursing a water, but it didn’t matter much, considering he, too, walked here. “Well, I mean, I can’t assume, wouldn’t it be rude to think she’d,” He bounces around before he drops his arms at his sides. “You think she‘d say yes?”

“What makes you think she’d say no?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer tries to think of a good reason as to why he’s worried you’d turn him down, but finds nothing but his own insecurities. He knows that you’re kind; he knows if you didn’t want to do something, you wouldn’t. Spencer finds that very reassuring. “Just don’t want her to think I’m weird.”

Derek barks out a sharp laugh as if he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer wants to ask why, but Derek looks away from him before he gets the chance. Spencer steals a glance over to the dance floor, watching as Penelope and you giggle yourselves away from the crowd.

Your pupils are dilated, and Spencer is sure that if he pressed a hand to your cheek, your skin would be warm, either from the alcohol or light giggles still leaving your lips. He feels his lips twitch upwards at the sound of them, broken up with soft gasps of air as you and Penelope hold onto each other in front of them. His heart clenches in his chest as he hears your giggles die away, and your gaze meets his. He wishes he could keep you this giddy all the time.

Your face relaxes into a gentle smile, and you let out a slow sigh. “Hi,” you motioned between Derek and Spencer with a wave of your hand. “What are we talking about?”

Derek cuts Spencer off before he has the chance to embarrass himself. “We were actually discussing leaving,” Derek says, much to Penelope’s dismay.

She’s frowning, and Derek knows he can’t tell the blonde his plan to get these two together, not yet, anyway. Spencer’s pining is evident to anyone with eyes, and you aren’t exactly smooth either, always choosing men who look strikingly similar to your lanky coworker.

“It is getting pretty late,” You mutter, sobering up a little at the idea of walking yourself home at this late hour.

Worry must be written across your face because Spencer is softly clearing his throat. “I can walk you home,” he offers in a soft voice. You don’t even question how he knew that you walked here. Instead, you can feel your cheeks flush. The idea is tempting, but it feels somewhat… intimate.

“That’s okay,” You begin, “You don’t have to go out of your way–”

“I don’t mind!” He’s leaning into you, nodding his head slowly. “I’d sleep better knowing you got home safe.”

A little tiny voice inside of you is shrieking with delight at that, but you answer him in a reasonably calm voice. “Well,” you tsk, “if it’ll help you sleep better.” Your tone is flirtier than you’d like it to be. You’ll be the first to admit it: It’s hard controlling yourself around him, and being dehydrated and tipsy isn’t helping. “Let me grab my things.”

Spencer is nodding, discarding his plastic cup of water and ensuring he has everything on his person before he looks at Derek, who has very clearly filled Penelope in by now in fast whispers. Derek gently taps a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Breathe. You’re just walking her home. Remember, you’re already friends with her. She won’t bite… hopefully.”

Spencer prepares to shoot back that he doesn’t need the pep talk because nothing is going to happen, but his mouth snaps shut as you materialize by Penelope’s side. “Ready?” You rock back and forth on your heels, eyes shining.

Spencer’s brows raise, smiling nervously as he hums a shaky-sounding, “Mhm.”

The night air smells fresh and clean with the promise of summer, warm and refreshing. You dragged in a slow inhale through the nose and hummed. A cool breeze brushed over your shoulders for a moment, and you felt awake again, your slight from earlier replaced with a second wind of energy. You glance over at Spencer, who is still holding the bar’s exit door for Penelope and Derek.

He doesn’t look bored or annoyed by the task, and though it’s the tiniest act of kindness, it makes you smile. You hug Penelope, tight and secure around her middle, muttering gentle goodbyes to her in a playful tone. Derek laughs when you bid him farewell in the same style, pulling away from the hug, smiling widely, and shaking his head. He then points at Spencer, “Stay safe,” his gaze moving to you. “Both of you.”

You wave his worries off, nodding, “Dr. Reid, lead the way.”

Spencer lets out a tiny scoff, waving his friends goodbye before doing exactly as you say. You seem incredibly awake, despite the last hour. His eyes are so focused on you as the two of you begin the short walk back to your respective apartments that he almost trips on a crack in the sidewalk, not even ten minutes in, and he’s already making a fool of himself.

You pause your movements, hands raising in the air as if you’re preparing to catch him, “Everything okay?” Your tone gives away your amusement.

He nods, “Yeah, yes, just distracted.”

“How out of character for you.” You tease lightly, sighing out as you lower your hands. You let out a soft hum, thinking about a tune they played at the bar, when you see two bodies pressed up against a wall in the not-so-far distance.

Your shoulders feel tense as you try your hardest not to stare at the couple as they kiss, soft sighs and moans of pleasure leaving one lover’s lips as you force your eyes straight ahead. Spencer, however, is staring. His eyes don’t stay on the couple long as he hears a frustrated sounding exhale from you.

His lips quirk up when he sees you walking with a rigid posture. “Does PDA bother you?” He asks curiously, keeping his voice low as he passes the couple to his right.

You shake your head, cheeks feeling warm at the sound of his voice. “What? No. I just,” You pause, unsure about how much you should be sharing with him anyway. Would he want to hear about how much you missed it, dating, kissing, sex, the touch of someone’s hand in your hair? Your eyes nervously glance at him, then the sidewalk, a soft laugh leaving you. “It’s going to sound so pathetic.”

Spencer finds that highly unlikely, “Try me.”

You bite your lower lip, considering it for a moment. It had only been two months, how could you be so… needy? You can feel the edges of your ears grow warm as the night air— you were so pathetic. How could someone become so touch-starved in such a short amount of time? How could you tell that to him? Then again, Spencer Reid was not quick to judge… though maybe he would be if he knew what you were thinking about right now.

You're slow to smile, and your face looks a little shy and awkward. You speak in a hushed tone, “I think I miss it.”

“Kissing?”

“No, I mean yes, but more than kissing. Touching, heavy-petting, dates,” You dare not glance at him, “Sex.” You can’t stop yourself now, the words leaving you against your will. “I’ve just been stressed, irritable lately, and I think sex… took my mind off things.”

Spencer’s throat fills with cotton, and he tries to swallow normally, going shockingly quiet for someone who always seems to have something to say. It doesn’t last long as he feels the growing silence crawl under his skin— he can’t stand it. “That’s normal, for someone— well, anyone who hasn’t had it, sex, I mean, in a while.” He stops himself from asking how long it has been before continuing. “Regular sex can boost your immune system, am-among other things.”

You grin, “Of course, it does.” You feel lighter hearing Spencer nervously ramble about sex, less judged, more listened to. You glance to your side, admiring the sharp slope of his jaw, the ends of his brown hair curling against his smooth skin. “Don’t stop on my account; I love learning.”

Of course, you do.

It seems to be Spencer’s turn to stare daggers into the distance, following you as you take a left turn. “In some women, sex can lower the risk of heart attacks. Which is funny, Men’s likelihood of a heart attack goes up with continuous sexual activity.” He chuckles lightly, sparing a glance over his left shoulder at you.

His knees feel weak seeing the way you’re looking at him. Your gaze occasionally glances at the sidewalk, but your eyes shine with curiosity. He’s always liked that about you. You’re always willing to listen to his random rants, never poking fun at him. No, it's not like you to laugh at someone for something as direct as knowledge, but you still smile at him.

He keeps going, his hazel eyes focused on you. “Rhythmic stimulation,” He should not look at you as he says this, “During an orgasm, has similar brain activity to dancing.” Your eyebrows raise at that, mouthing a gentle ‘huh’.

“So, what, like birds?”

“Yes! Dancing has been a long-standing method of seduction, so I suppose it stands to reason that muscular stimulation, in that way, would make our brain activity act that way.”

Your head tilts, trying to get the mental image of Spencer’s hands on your waist as you dance against him out of your mind. “I suppose it would. Though I wouldn’t consider orgasmic pulsing to have a steady rhythm.”

Spencer feels his heart stutter against his ribcage, his jaw clenching as his mind graces him with the mental image of you under him, shaking, hips stuttering against his roughly. He blinks, the tips of his ears turning red as he struggles to find something interesting to say. “W-Well,” he squeaks, and he feels panic flood his system, watching your grin widen when you hear such an embarrassing sound. He coughs, fixing his shirt collar, “Oxytocin— endorphins really— are released when dancing, same with uh,” His mouth hangs open for a second as his gaze dips down to your lips, “Climax.”

He’s your coworker, he’s your coworker, coworker, cowork— “Would you consider orgasms to have a steady rhythm?” Honestly? Not the worst question you could ask right now. You just hope that it comes off as you being curious instead of desperately horny.

Spencer needs someone to put him out of misery, cheeks hot as he answers you, “I suppose that maybe, possibly, they could, yes.”

Your chin tilts upwards, and a soft “Uh-huh” leaves you before the two of you are swept up in a slightly charged, albeit awkward, silence. You try to talk down the little voice in your head that seems to be screaming at you for making things so uncomfortable.

Why did you ask him that? What did you expect? Was Spencer supposed to drag you into an alleyway and immediately make you cum? Well, on second thought, that’s not such a bad idea— enough! You try to think of a possible escape from this silence, but all your dirty mind can think about are more inappropriate questions and remarks— just your luck.

“It wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” Spencer’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea––” He clears his throat in an attempt to keep it from closing up, “Having sex, to help with your, uhm, stress problem.” He holds his breath, waiting for your reactions. Morgan told him that the worst thing a person can do is say no, but Spencer disagrees. Said person could scream at him, slap him for being brazen, or stop talking to him altogether. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. Why did he have to say that? Why would he suggest something like that so openly—

Your laughter makes his brain short-circuit. What kind of reaction is that? Did you think he was joking, or did you find his suggestion so funny that you’re laughing at him? His laughter escapes him in a nervous attempt at self-preservation. If he can play this as a joke, maybe you won’t tell Penelope, and then Penelope won’t tell Derek, and Spencer can live another day free of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” You stammer, “Is the Doctor Spencer Reid suggesting that we sleep together for a dopamine boost?”

He doesn’t know how to save himself from that; his poker face is not a good one, not when it comes to you. His emotions almost always show on his face; there’s no way you’d believe him if he lied. So, he mentally prepares himself for rejection. “Not necessarily, strictly, suggesting anything. I’m just saying that it could be beneficial to you— both of us— if you needed some help with your irritability, since you’re free.”

“Are you saying that I have nothing better going on, so I might as well have sex with you?” He’s not exactly wrong, but you don’t need to admit it.

His cheeks feel hot, burning as he rasps out a shrill, “No! No, speaking from a scientific standpoint, biologically it is one solution to your problem.”

You let out a soft chuckle, breathy and short-lived. He can’t be serious, there’s no way he’s serious. Not Spencer Reid. And if he wasn’t joking, what would you even say? Sure, sounds like a great plan. Do you have a condom, or should we stop at the store? Better yet! Let’s do it raw to reap the full biological benefits of sex together.

It’s not realistic.

Spencer says odd things all the time. Once, he told you about how the spread of ringworms between animals and humans works, solely because of one off-handed comment. Not that you mind, you do enjoy learning, that was no lie. Spencer was a plethora of knowledge, and you trusted every little word that came out of that pretty mouth of his.

He’s grown to be more than just your favorite walking, talking, human encyclopedia. Spencer Reid had the biggest heart, the best laugh, and the softest hazel eyes. He cares about other people intensely, is always willing to go out of his way to listen and help others, and is borderline selfless sometimes. Sure, that was part of the job, but Spencer made it into something more, something raw.

So, no, he couldn’t be suggesting such a thing. Not your Spencer Reid. “You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Reid.” You mutter, your feet falling into sync beside him. You can see your apartment building coming into view and feel your body beginning to long for your bed.

The rest of the walk is quiet, with soft mentions of summer plans and idle chatter. Spencer shouldn’t be so disappointed. You’re still talking to him, still laughing at his jokes, listening to his random facts mid-conversation. You’re willing to make everything go back to normal, ignore his odd suggestion, and go to bed. He should be grateful, and maybe a small part of him is, but the rest of him? The rest of him is so disappointed.

Not because you ignored him, but because you didn’t give him a proper yes or no. Even without a direct answer, he feels rejected, and he’s kicking himself for not being able to make a move like a normal person.

He walks you up to your door, staring at the number four on the outside of your apartment door for longer than necessary as you dig through your bag to find your keys. When you find them, you hold them up with a proud smile. “They materialize.” You muse, your back facing him as you push the key into the lock.

The last thing he wants tonight is for him to walk home regretting something. He could go home lamenting the fact that he didn’t make a move, or he could go home regretting the fact that he did. For him, one of those options is far worse than the other.

Pushing your apartment door open, you begin to turn back towards him, “Thanks for walking me home, Spence, I appreciate it—” A jolt of energy zips through you as Spencer’s lanky fingers wrap around your wrist, yanking your body closer to him. You barely have time to look down at your wrist before he’s inching closer, pressing his lips against yours in one swift movement.

The kiss is timid and far too quick for your liking, and when he pulls away from your lips, he immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry! I know I should have asked you first, but I got so nervous with everything I said earlier and—” The rest of his rushed apology is tuned out as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

In complete amazement, you stare at him like that for what feels like forever. You’d blame it on the alcohol for the way that you find his pathetic ramblings adorable, or for the way you’re reevaluating your conversation from earlier, when you laughed him off. And then there was that little, insistent voice in your head that demanded another kiss, claiming the feeling of a dim spark.

And who were you to deny it?

Spencer’s hands are moving with him as he talks, finger trembling as he explains that he “....couldn’t go home ruminating on the what-ifs and I needed to do something, and Morgan says that confidence is key and I was trying—” Your fingers hook into the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level with a rough yank.

Your lips meet his in a sloppy kiss for just a moment before he kisses you back, and when his head tilts ever-so-slightly to the side, it becomes something else entirely. His lips are softer than you expected, hungrily meeting yours. Spencer kisses like he’s starved for attention, for touch. His hands find purchase on your hips, holding you in place with both hands, like he’s scared you’ll disappear.

The way the palms of his hands squeeze at your waist makes you weak at the knees. The kiss has seemingly shifted from tender to needy in a matter of seconds, his lips pressing against yours with a delicious roughness. When you pull away, you can feel your bottom lip tingling, a feeling that leaves you a little lightheaded.

The soft pink of Spencer’s lips is the first thing you’re looking at before pushing him deeper into your apartment. His feet stumble as you force him into your apartment, the flat of your palms on his chest. When the door shuts behind you, the two of you are left in the dark of your apartment. Moonlight seeps through your living room curtains, illuminating the room with a softness so close to ethereal that it leaves Spencer wondering if he’s dreaming.

He’s sure you’re about to tell him that this is a bad idea and send him home, before you let out a frustrated groan and ask him, “Are you sure this is alright?”

Holy shit.

He can feel a faint squeeze in his lower abdomen, licking his lips as he tries to think clearly, for your sake and his. “I want this.” He’s clear with his feelings for once. “And I can promise you I want this and much more.”

As his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he can see the shine in your eyes. You're staring up at him with the eyes of a woman lost between admiration and awe. You nod slowly, your left hand grabbing his right, “Then don’t keep me waiting.” And while your tone is playful, he can’t help but take it to heart, letting you guide him toward your bedroom.

A soft giggle can be heard from you as you press a quick kiss to his lips, then another, and another, until the back of his knees are hitting the edge of your bed. You lean in slower now, with the tempting promise of a sweeter, sensual kiss—one where Spencer can enjoy the taste of your lips in full. Your lips brush against his as your hands press against his chest, his balance wavering, and then he’s pushed down on the edge of your bed with a light groan of disappointment.

His head is spinning from the teasing brush of your lips, his eyes lingering on them as you smile down at him, the look of innocence. “Did you think I’d make this easy for you?” Your teasing words shoot an electric shiver down his spine, a breathless laugh leaving him as your hands rub his shoulders.

“I don’t believe easy is in your vocabulary.”

“Oh?” You muse, your hands stopping the gentle massage of his shoulders, your left hand leaves a trail of fire up his neck to his chin, tilting it up slowly. Your head cocks to the side, he’s never seen you this smug. Were you like this with everyone else? Or is this just for him? He’s too scared to ask. “Care to elaborate?”

Spencer swallows slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. “You like the challenge. You like having to work for it. I used to think it was because you wanted to be intellectually stimulated, but seeing you like this makes me think that you get off on it. ”

You try to hide your smile, the grip on his chin slacking as your thumb traces a soft pattern on his lower jaw. “God forbid a girl has a bit of fun.” He cracks a smile with that, letting out a low hum as he raises his hands to pull you closer towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the bed that lies between his thighs.

Spencer’s pleading eyes almost make you cave, those soft chocolate pools of desire almost too alluring to resist. Almost. Although you guess he deserves a little treat before the night begins. You lean down, cupping both cheeks to press a slow kiss to his lips. Spencer matches your energy, not taking the kiss up a notch until you do, one of your hands straying to the root of his hair and pulling lightly at his brown curls while your tongue slowly slides against his bottom lip.

Fighting back a groan, Spencer eagerly parts his lips for you. Your tongue drags against his, exploring his mouth at a torturous pace. Spencer can feel his cock, begging for some friction, jump inside his pants as you softly suck on his bottom lip. He’s breathing hard, your mouth swallowing most of his groans and sighs, until your teeth pull at his bottom lip and he lets out a sweet, quiet whimper.

You pull away, and Spencer can feel himself spiraling before you push his hair back and whisper a breathy, “So good, baby.” His genius mind is out of commission after that, and whatever energy, whatever brain cells he has left over are now yours to use as you like. “Lean against the headboard.”

It’s a direct order that he immediately follows. He’s kicking off his shoes as fast as possible, moving around on your bed until his back hits the headboard.

His enthusiasm both excites you and amuses you, your eyes rolling with a playful shake of your head. He watches as you crawl over to him on the bed, swallowing hard as his eyes take you in. He’s waiting for his alarm to go off and for him to wake up in bed, without you, alone, and painfully hard.

You let out a short laugh, seeing his wide-eyed expression, “You’re sure you still want this?” You ask as you reach him, your eyes on his.

Spencer’s answer is a quick, “Yes!” which makes you smile wide at him, “Are you?” His fingers are itching to touch you, but he keeps them in his lap, fidgeting.

You let out a playful hum as you swing a leg over his lap, carefully straddling him. “Yes," you answer, looking down at him. You lean in, teasing his lips with a light brush, leaning away whenever Spencer tilts his head up in a vain attempt to kiss you thoroughly.

“Patience is a virtue.” Your lips brush against his as you whisper, kissing the corner of his lips, much to his dismay.

Spencer would say he’s not usually this needy, but he doesn't have ample experience to draw from anyway. He can only blame his neediness on you. You who is grinning from ear-to-ear as you kiss his cheek, you who is hovering over his lap, you who is laughing when you see his pleading expression. You mutter something that Spencer can vaguely make out as disappointed, “Greedy.” Before your lips press firmly onto his.

He could spend hours kissing you. In fact, if nothing else happens tonight, he’d walk home happy knowing he kissed you like this. Your languid kisses easily turn hungry as Spencer slides his hands to your waist, guiding you to sit on his lap. He can feel a ghost of a smile against his lips, his hands squeezing gently at your sides as you resume your earlier task of exploring his mouth with your tongue.

You swallow a groan from Spencer as you take a moment to suck on his tongue, his hand gripping your waist tighter. Letting out a muffled hum of pleasure, you grind your hips down on his with almost perfect precision.

Spencer’s back goes rigid, feeling the way your hips grind against his, unsure if it’s okay for a moment before lust wins out against logic. His large hands tighten around your clothed hips, pulling your hips down against his until he’s rutting his hips against yours like a dog in heat. He can feel your grin against his lips again, and he’s already whining by the time you pull away from him. Your hips lean away from his, sitting up on your knees.

His eyes look dazed, lust and confusion dancing in them as he tries his best not to come off as anxious, “Why’d you stop?” His breathy voice sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core.

“You want to take my clothes off, don’t you?” You leave his lap, moving to the side of his outer right thigh to properly strip.

His parted lips snap shut, nodding as fast as he can, immediately playing to your whims. You raise an eyebrow, “You need to learn to let a girl have her fun with you.” You muse as your hands reach for the edge of your top. Spencer’s heart rate doubles as he watches your fingers curl around the bottom hem.

His gaze darts between your fingers and your face, but his brows knit together, clearly confused. “What do you mean?” You’re pulling your top off painfully slow, and he’s debating asking you if he can do it for you.

Your top is passing your midriff. “If I’m on top,” His breath catches in his throat as he sees the bottom swell of your breast, “And if I want to tease you, learn how to take it.”

“Jesus Christ,” He shifts under you, your words reminding him how his erection is going ignored. “I’m going to need a good teacher.” It’s meant to be witty, but his tone sounds so strained that he’s surprised that you aren’t laughing at him right now. His eyes, not knowing what to stare at, barely meet yours before the sight of your lace-covered breasts enthralls him.

His strained, whiny voice has your body feeling hot all over. Making a mental note to make this man whine some more, you throw your top off to the side of the bed, hands making a beeline for your pants. “Oh, how exciting.” You slide out of them, leaving you in your bra and panties. “Your first lesson.”

Spencer, feeling awkward that he’s still fully clothed, begins to pull his shirt off. But when he goes to undo his pants, your fingers cover his. Your fingers are quick to pull his pants down to his thighs, and Spencer kicks them off without needing to be told.

You were a professional; you didn’t sleep with coworkers, no matter how tempting. Spencer Reid, however, is your forbidden fruit. His hazel eyes, wide and soft with need, make your chest clench with affection. You can feel some part of you salivating for another taste of him, knowing you’re too far gone to listen to reason.

Your gaze is slow to drop to his lap, eyes flickering across his bare chest, then down to the bulging outline of his cock against the thin material of his boxers. You hesitate, just for a moment, hand hovering in the air before you gently trace the outline of his cock through his boxers— undeniably pretty.

“Just for me?” Your head is bowed, eyes looking up through your lashes. Spencer lets out a shaky sigh, nodding a wordless response. You drag your index fingers roughly against the tip of his clothed dick. “Words, Spence.”

“Yes,” He whines, groaning as your hands pull down his boxers. “It’s all for you.”

“Very good.” Then, you're pulling his boxers down, gaze hungry as you expose Spencer’s hard cock inch by inch. You shift slightly to help him pull his boxers off, but your eyes are locked onto his cock. Red, hot tip with a slight curve towards his stomach, thick and twitching. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth slowly, and millions of ways to tease him immediately come to mind.

He tries to stop himself from feeling hot under your intense gaze, fighting the urge to beg you not to stare. He’s about to cave when you reach your left hand into your panties. A gentle groan leaves your lips as you swipe your fingers along the entrance of your warm cunt, “I can do that—” Spencer begins, but you’ve already stopped touching yourself, pulling your left hand away from your heat, fingers covered in your slick. You wrap your hands around his length, and Spencer has to stop his hips from immediately bucking at the feeling of your slick-covered hand.

“What was that, pretty boy?” Your hand slowly begins to move up and down the length of his cock.

Usually, Spencer would say something in rebuttal to that nickname, but the only thing you can hear right now is the sounds of him letting out tiny moans. He sputters, trying to reply, but your grip grows tighter as your hands move down his length, and all you get is a pathetic-sounding whine.

Leaning in to press a wet kiss to his shoulder, you watch as Spencer’s hips jolt when your index finger does a quick sweep over the pretty pink head of his cock. “Feels so much better than your hand, huh?” You read his mind, looking up at him.

Spencer’s head nods, breathing picking up as your lips suck on the sensitive skin of his neck as your hand steadily strokes him. “I–” You pick up the pace, teeth dragging against his pulse point. “Mmm, I’ve fantasized about you touching me like this.” He has no reason to lie, not now. He has pictured what it could feel like to have your fingers wrapped around his cock instead of his own, how you’d spread the pre-cum around the head of his cock, how you’d look licking his cum off of your hand.

His breathy admission earns him a soft groan, “Often?” You sound excited as you pull away from his neck. The idea of fulfilling one of his fantasies leaves you with an oddly triumphant sense of pride. Truth be told, he was fulfilling your fantasy: having Spencer Reid whining and moaning at your touch—a guilty pleasure on lonely nights.

Spencer doesn’t want to look you in the eyes when he answers, but he does anyway, your lustful gaze making it hard for him to look away. “Yes.”

You let out a satisfied sounding hum, looking away from him to lean down closer to his cock, for a second he’s sure you’re about to take him into your mouth. But, he isn’t disappointed when he sees a long trail of spit leaving your lips and coating the head of his cock.

Your hands helps coat your spit all around his cock and he’s in heaven. His head leaning back against the headboard as your hand brings him closer to the best orgasm he’s ever had. “ I-I’m, oh god,” He pants out, head rolling to the side to catch your gaze. “I won’t last very long if you keep this up. I’m not as experienced as,” His mouth falls open mid-sentence as you move your hand faster, letting out a cry of pleasure.

“I’m not, shit—” He swallows hard, “I’m not as experienced as I’d like to be, can–can’t last that long with you doing that!” He practically shouts at the end of his sentence.

“With a cock this pretty,” You give his length one last pump, “I find that hard to believe.” Carefully letting go of his cock, after all you want to have fun too. If Spencer thought his cock was being ignored before, he wasn’t expecting this. He whines, feeling the warmth of your hand leave him, his breathing heavy.

Your hand, covered in remnants of spit, dips into your underwear where you haphazardly smear the spit against your folds. Spencer’s heart skips a beat, enjoying the show you make of pulling your panties off your body. He almost sobs when you straddle his lap again, carefully sitting with your dripping core pressed directly onto his aching cock.

You let out a shaky groan when Spencer’s hips buck into yours, a wild look in his eyes that makes him seem more animalistic than needy. You can feel your walls squeeze around nothing as the head of his cock slowly grinds up into your clit. You bite your bottom lip to muffle a low moan, shuddering above him.

Your lips part, staring down at him with half-lidded eyes as Spencer’s brows furrow and eyes flutter shut with every needy rock of his hips. His hands grab at your hips, pushing and guiding you down to meet his. It’s not nearly enough and the both of you know it, the desperate urge to fill your sopping cunt to his heart's content growing with every pleasured sigh that leaves your lips.

“Please,” Spencer’s hands move to swell of your ass, gripping the skin hard as he uses your pussy lips as his personal toy. His breath is hot against your chest, lips leaving sloppy kisses below your collarbone. To him, you’re ethereal, a seraph, as you grind your pussy lips against his length and he desperately needs to be inside you. He needs to know how the cunt of an angel feels as soon as possible. “Let me fuck you.”

Fuck. It’s not a question, nor a demand, but a plea. His wording makes you groan, the idea that he has to beg to fuck you like this, that you have control over him like this. You’ve imagined Spencer in bed a handful of times, assuming that he’d be timid, yes, but fantasies are nothing compared to hearing that desperate plea.

You reposition your knees, pressing your chest into his face as you reach between your legs to guide him to your entrance. Spencer’s hands knead against the plump skin of your ass as you slowly sink down on him, a shaky exhale can be heard from the both of you. The fact that you haven’t been stretched out on his fingers dawns on you as you struggle to relax around the girth of his cock.

And Spencer seems to have the same thought, his hands snaking up your back to unlatch your bra. Once off, his lips sucking and nipping at the skin around your right nipple before his lips latch around its aroused bud. Your discomfort is partially forgotten as the flat of his tongue drags against the sensitive bud. A gasp, followed by a small, “Mhmm, that’s it.” Your hands leave his shoulders to push his hair back and away from his face as he focuses on his task, threading your fingers into his brown locks.

Your core swallows the rest of him whole, and you experimentally grind your hips down on his cock. His eyes, previously half-lidded, widen for a second before looking up at you. His lips still attached to your breast, eyes silently pleading for more, for anything, he has you teasing him with a light clench of your walls around him.

“Remember what I told you, Reid,” Spencer remembers… well, practically everything. But memories are hard to conjure when he’s buried deep inside you, velvet walls pulsing around him. Leaning away from your breast, a trail of spit still connects your skin to his tongue. “Learn how to take it.” You playfully scold, right thumb trailing down from his hair to swipe at the spit on his lips. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Spencer’s lips twitch into a soft smile, your thumb tracing a soft pattern against his bottom lip. “I can do that.” He confirms with a gentle tone, eyes searching yours. The man beneath you looks lovesick, drunk on your touch, perfectly content to spend his days doing whatever you tell him, obedient.

The thought that he’ll do anything you say. The first move from you is a gentle roll of your hips, followed by a slow exhale. The sting of discomfort readily gets replaced with pleasure as you begin to ride him. Your palms move to grip the headboard behind Spencer’s shoulders, tilting your head to the side to carefully observe him, getting off on every little reaction he shows you.

A quick, lust-filled smile graces your lips as you move your hips up and down at a slow and steady pace. Spencer’s head tilts back slightly, soft sighs of pleasure leaving his parted lips everytime your hips sink down on his cock. “Is that good?”

You're teasing him, and he’d be dumb not to notice it; he knows that you can see—feel— how much he’s enjoying this, hear it even. Nevertheless, his head nods quickly as he rasps a mewl of a “Yes, so good.”

Canting your hips closer, you pick up the pace. The slight change in your position has his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside your pussy that has you shivering ontop of him, electricity coursing down your spine. Your eyes flutter closed, chasing after that feeling, panting as you use Spencer’s cock to bring yourself closer to your climax.

Spencer’s hips meet yours now as you ride him faster, the slapping and squelching of skin meeting skin can be heard alongside a cacophony of sinful-sounding moans and pants. Spencer’s head is thrown back, brows drawn together as he staves off his orgasm, wanting to drag this out for as long as possible. “Oh, god,” your name falls from his mouth in a string of pathetic-sounding moans, “Oh, Mommy—” He squeaks as he realizes the words that have escaped the dirtiest parts of his mind. His rosy cheeks turn slightly pale, eyes peering open to see your reaction.

Your cunt squeezes him tighter when his worried eyes reach yours. Your gaze isn’t filled with disgust, but darkened with desire. “What was that baby?” You gasp out, hips expertly snapping down onto his. Spencer’s mouth falls open to shamelessly repeat himself, but it’s too much for him. His words choking in the back of his throat as cries of pleasure replace them.

Pouting, you snap your hips down onto his with an abrupt stop. Spencer lets out a strangled sounding sob as you tilt his chin up, “Oh, Spencer, baby, do you need to say something?” You’re breathless and so, so, so, so close, but you need to hear him repeat those words before you cum.

Spencer’s chest softly heaves, blinking away the confusion in his eyes as you squeeze your tight walls around him, his hips struggling against yours. It’s hard to tease him properly as the head of his cock keeps grinding into your g-spot, your mind becoming hazy with pleasure. But you can’t risk stopping, not when you’re this close. Your lips part, a whine threatening to leave them as you speak, “I’m so s’close, you can handle a little more. Just a-a little longer.” Your voice trembles for a second, but it coaxes a gentle moan out of him nonetheless.

His cock feels desperate to empty into you as you deny him his orgasm with another sharp, “Not yet.” He feels he must obey your demand, his head becoming lightheaded whenever you order him around. He can feel tightening around him, walls fluttering against him with every second you get closer to your climax.

Spencer can feel his eyes prickle with tears, his bottom lip trembling, “I need to cum. Need to cum, let me cum, Mommy.”

You let out a broken laugh as he finally says the words you were so desperately waiting for, “You’re the one who asked for this, Spence.” You managing to speak so coldly to him while vigorously bouncing on his cock has him letting out another weak sob, “Look at you, you can barely handle it.” Your moans are becoming louder and slightly animalistic. “Let me use you while I can.”

You do exactly that, using him as you feel your orgasm crashing on you, your hands move to his shoulders, nails dragging against his skin as you loudly cry out for him. When your hips stutter against his, your body shuddering and melting into pleasure, Spencer is quick to buck his hips erratically up to yours, helping you ride out your orgasm to the fullest.

Spencer is quick to follow, grabbing your hips tightly to pull himself out of you with a curse, his seed coating your pussy lips and inner thighs. “I’m sorry,” He pants out, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead, “I’m sorry, I’m–”

“Spencer, it’s okay.” You exhale, panting lightly as you look down at him with a lazy grin.

He’s quiet after that, his grip of your hips loosening as you dip your head to look at him, forehead slowly pressing against his. You let out a little laugh, exhausted and giddy, “You good?”

He lets out a soft ‘mhm’ that tells that all his energy has left him. You can’t judge him; your body is suspiciously close to crashing. You can hear him mumble your name, and you move your head away from his, “Yes?”

“Are you—” He stops, licking his lips, “I’d like it if we could be—” He struggles to find the right words, anxiety and exhaustion making him into a simpering fool.

But you’re grinning, so he must be doing something right. He’s about to attempt his messy request to be the only man in your love life when you mutter a soft, whisper-like, “I’d love to be exclusive with you, Dr. Reid. On one condition.”

You smooth his hair back, out of his face, “We keep this between us until we’re ready to tell the team, I don’t need a team of profilers in my love life— not while we’re together.”

Spencer can feel his chest tighten, watching as you move to hold your pinkie finger towards him. He links his pinkie around yours, “Deal,” He laughs. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Spencer finds acting normal around you increasingly difficult, especially when you keep leaving flirty notes telling him to meet you in the supply closet in ten minutes on his desk (for the fourth time this week). Ever challenging when you insist that your ‘innocent’ little rendezvous won’t lead anywhere, but your plump lips kiss his so hard that they’re swollen in seconds.

He knows the team knows something is amiss, but he can’t think to worry about it as his head finds a place between your hips, your fingers threading into his hair as you bite your swollen bottom lip in a weak attempt to quiet yourself.

JJ and Emily note your absence this fine Wednesday morning, something Derek doesn’t find too interesting until he sees that Spencer is also missing. But who is he to ruin it for Spencer? He’s sure the boy genius has you on a mini-coffee date at some café across the street.

Well, he was sure, until he rounded the corner to see you stumble out of a supply closet, your hair ruffled and makeup smudged. He almost calls out your name when he notices Spencer tailing behind you, his cardigan ruffled and hair equally tousled. Derek’s jaw drops open, waiting and standing in awe as you blow Spencer a kiss and head in the opposite direction toward the bathrooms.

The second Spencer turns to see his friend, the smile drops away from his face, and the color leaves his cheeks. Morgan’s smile is reminiscent of the Cheshire cat’s as he draws out a proud “My man!” and Spencer feels dread fill his soul. He’s never going to live this down.

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bishovapls · 3 months ago

Text

Our Little One - I think you both need Daddy, hm?

Relationships: Natasha Romanoff & Wanda Maximoff & Reader

Summary: When Carol asks you out in front of Wanda, she snaps. She takes you home, desperate to claim you, to mark you, to own you. But it’s not just her bed you belong in, and when Natasha comes home to find you both absolutely lost in the scene, she makes one thing very clear: if you’re going to be ruined, it’ll be by both of them. Together.

Warnings: 18+, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Age difference, Older WandaNat/Younger Reader, BDSM, Dom/Sub, Strap-on, fingering, Cunnilingus, Punishment (kind of), Safe word/gesture check-ins. Aftercare, but also idk if it counts because it happens, and then they start up again like the feral animals they are.

A/N: There was never meant to be a part two to this, but after a request from @tomy5girls, who am I to say no? I know this isn’t exactly what you asked for, I may have taken a few liberties and run with it a bit, but I hope you still enjoy it!

I think there’s enough context to catch you up on what’s going on, so you don't need to read part one. But if you want to, the first part is here.

As I mentioned last time, smut isn’t something I’ve written too much of before, but the reaction on here to the first part was crazy. Thank you, everyone, for being patient and supportive as I step a bit out of my comfort zone!

Word Count: 10,143

Anywaaays, sorry for the yapping. NSFW below the cut, you can also read on AO3.

The café was warm and quiet, with sunlight streaming through the windows and spilling across the wood-panelled floor. The clink of mugs and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine created a soft, rhythmic background hum, while indie music played quietly from the speakers overhead. You were tucked into your usual corner seat, your laptop open in front of you, a half-empty latte sitting forgotten beside it. Across from you, Carol was scrolling through the shared project document, her brow furrowed in concentration as she absorbed the final bits of the work.

It was your last study session with her. After two months of grafting, revisions, and back-and-forths, this was it. The project was finished. And you were proud of what you’d done together. The project was solid, clean, well-written, even a little brilliant. Maybe even an A.

Carol had been more than tolerable during the process. She was smart, dry in her humour, and easy to get along with. You’d laughed, found a rhythm, and she never made you feel stupid for missing something or needing more time. But that wasn’t what had your skin buzzing, you weren’t thinking about the project. Not really.

What had your attention was Wanda.

She moved around the café with quiet grace, her apron snug around her waist, hair clipped back but a few strands escaping to frame her face. She hadn’t looked directly at you for a while, but you could feel her eyes on you, her presence heavy in the air.

Every time Carol leaned in a little too close, every time she gestured to the screen or shifted in her seat, you felt Wanda’s gaze flicker over to the two of you. You could sense the tension in the room, even without looking up from your work.

Your girlfriends hadn’t approved of the arrangement from the very beginning. You’d tried to be reasonable, explaining how it was strictly academic, that Carol was nothing more than a project partner. You reassured them, over and over, but it never truly landed, not with either of them.

Wanda’s eyes would darken every time Carol’s name passed your lips, her jaw set just a little tighter. Her touch would change, no longer casual or gentle, but possessive. A hand curling firmly around your waist, or fingers digging into the softness of your thigh like a silent warning.

And Natasha? Natasha didn’t say much. She didn’t have to. The shift in her body was enough, the rigid line of her spine, the way her mouth pressed into a tight, unreadable line. You’d catch the flick of her gaze, sharp and calculating, as though she were already cataloguing the best way to make Carol disappear.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what it looked like when they were on edge. And with Carol, they weren’t just on edge, they were poised, barely leashed. Jealousy burned hot in both of them, but it manifested differently. Wanda clung to you like you might slip through her fingers. Natasha watched like a predator, calm and still, but lethal just beneath the surface.

They didn’t trust Carol, not because she had done anything wrong yet, but because they knew how easy you were to be taken. They knew how easy you were to corrupt. After all...they’d done it first. They knew the way you softened under attention, how you craved approval. They knew exactly what it looked like.

And they weren’t about to let anyone else try.

—--

The first night you’d gone to Carol’s to work on the project, they’d summoned you to their place the moment it ended; it didn't matter that it was late, or that you had an early class the next morning. There hadn’t been a choice, and you obeyed, of course, you always did. Because when they gave you an order, it wasn’t a suggestion.

You’d barely stepped through the door before Natasha had you pinned against it, the sharp click of the lock still echoing when her hand curled around your throat.

“Get undressed,” she had commanded, her voice low and steady, like it was taking everything in her not to snarl. “Mommy and Daddy need to see if anything’s been taken from us.”

And they’d checked everything. Every inch of your skin, your scent, your breath, your neck, your breasts…your thighs. Wanda had traced the inside of your legs with her fingers, like she could feel if anyone had dared to touch you. Natasha had knelt before you, her gaze laser-focused on your pussy. She stared as if trying to figure out whether you were still truly hers, before leaning in to taste, just to be certain.

Some might have called it toxic. Obsessive. Overbearing. But you’d discussed the boundaries long ago. This was part of it. You weren’t afraid of their jealousy.

You needed it.

Before them, you had been quiet. Ordinary. Invisible, almost. But now, with them, you were something worth claiming. Protected by two beautiful women who saw the world as full of thieves trying to steal what was theirs. And what was theirs was you.

Three sessions at Carol’s were all it took before they’d reached their limit. Every time you were at her apartment, they were climbing the walls back home, restless, pacing, barely keeping it together until you walked through the door and they could get their hands on you.

You remember that conversation clearly. You were lying in bed, your skin still flushed, marked, every inch of you thoroughly inspected, claimed all over again. Wanda had been the one to speak, her tone deceptively gentle as she tucked herself beside you, fingers dragging slowly over your hip.

You had two options: Natasha could pull strings, lean on her department contacts, and get you reassigned to a new group entirely. Or you could keep working with Carol. But only under Wanda’s roof, in her café, where her eyes could stay on you the entire time.

You’d chosen the café. And now, when you came home, there was no need for the checks. No demand to strip or let them inspect you. Wanda could see everything. Every shift of your body, every glance. She knew, without asking. She always knew.

—--

Your thighs pressed together under the table as you thought about them. About the possessiveness, the way they made you feel like you were something to be desired, something that belonged to them.

Carol was still talking, but you were still only half-listening, lost in the anticipation. Eventually, Carol’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone softer than before. “Hey, I was wondering…if you wanted to keep seeing each other, even though the project is done?”

You stiffened, but you tried to remain casual. There was no way your girlfriends would allow this. You gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Carol, I don’t think I can. But I’ll see you in Professor Romanoff’s lectures.”

Carol’s expression faltered, the corners of her mouth dipping into a subtle frown before she masked it with a casual, almost cocky smirk. “Why not?” she said, her voice dipping slightly, trying to sound playful. “We have chemistry, don’t we? We click, we laugh…Let me take you out. Just once.”

“I’m taken, you know that, Carol,” you said, keeping your voice steady, even as that familiar flicker of nervous energy crawled up your spine. And she did know, because Natasha and Wanda had made damn sure you’d told her. Had made it clear that you weren’t available. That you weren’t free to be taken.

Carol chuckled, but there was something more confident about her now, a playful lilt in her voice. “Oh, come on, baby. I bet I could treat you better. You haven’t even told me your girlfriend’s name. Can’t be that serious, can it?”

You wished you could’ve told her the truth, that the woman behind the counter was your girlfriend. That Wanda, along with Natasha, loved you in ways you’d never even known to dream about.

That they touched you, ruined you, worshipped you, and made you feel things you didn’t think were possible. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell Carol that you belonged to Wanda, because everyone knew Wanda was Natasha’s wife. And if you were with Wanda…then you were with Natasha too. And that was a line you could not admit to crossing. Not without consequences.

The only time you were allowed to blur those lines was when the three of you escaped the city, trips to quiet towns or distant coasts where no one knew your names, where eyes didn’t linger and gossip didn’t follow.

Or on rare nights when they brought you into their private circle, introduced you to the few friends who didn’t flinch at blurred boundaries. Friends who didn’t care that you were sleeping with your professor, only that Natasha’s smile came easier with you beside her, and Wanda’s eyes softened whenever you curled up in her lap like you belonged there.

You’d gone quiet for too long, lost in the swirl of your thoughts, still reeling from Carol’s boldness and the weight of Wanda’s gaze. The sharp crack of glass hitting tile jolted you back to the present. Wanda had dropped the coffee pot, the sound slicing through the café like a warning bell.

You looked up, and the moment your eyes met hers, you knew it hadn’t been an accident. The tightness in her jaw, the deliberate stillness of her posture, this was a message. A command. You scrambled to your feet without thinking, moving to her side as quickly as you could, heart thudding, because you understood exactly what she wanted: your attention, your obedience.

“I’ll, uh…I’ll text you, Carol,” you said quickly, kneeling to help Wanda clean up, the tension in your chest growing tighter.

Carol, unsurprised by your quick retreat, nodded as she picked up her bag. “Think about my offer, darling,” she said, flashing you a small, almost knowing smile before she left.

—--

Wanda was eerily silent as the two of you cleaned up the broken coffee pot, but the sharpness of her breath was impossible to ignore. Her hands trembled ever so slightly, and it was clear she was fighting something. Some dark desire that had taken root inside her, a simmering need she was trying to control.

You glanced quickly around, relief washing over you when you saw the place was clear. No one to witness whatever was about to unfold. You moved to the door, flipping the sign to closed as if marking the boundary between the world outside and whatever was waiting for you inside.

When you returned to kneel beside Wanda, paper towels in hand, the glass was in the bin, but her eyes were still fixed on the spill of coffee. Every inch of her body was taut, coiled, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

You wiped up the mess, taking extra care to get every last drop, even though you knew she wasn’t paying attention to that. She was watching you, studying every movement, every shift in your posture. You hesitated for just a moment, then whispered, "Mommy?"

Your voice came out softer than you intended, trembling slightly, betraying the nervous excitement that rushed through your veins.

You knew exactly what kind of mood she was in. This wasn’t the woman who caressed you to sleep or soothed you with gentle words. This was the side of her that demanded everything and took what was hers with a force you could never deny.

She didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, but you could see it, the tightening of her fist, the tension in her jaw. Wanda was struggling to hold herself together, not to give in to whatever force was swirling inside her. It was both terrifying and...thrilling.

"Mommy…I’m yours. All yours," you said, a little breathless, your words coming out almost like a plea. You needed her to hear you. To feel your devotion, your submission.

She finally looked up at you, and your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes were cold, unrecognisable. There was something in them that made your pulse spike, a jolt of fear curling low in your stomach. For the first time, you felt a rush of real fear, the kind that made your knees weak, and your breath shallow.

"Mommy, please…please," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a tremor in your words as your body reacted to the mix of fear and something else, the something inside you that wanted this, craved this. Loved this.

Wanda’s voice broke the silence, low, smooth, and terrifyingly calm. "Get your things, little girl. We’re going home."

—

The drive back was consumed by an uncomfortable silence. You didn’t try to make conversation. Wanda’s presence in the driver’s seat seemed almost too quiet, but the energy she radiated spoke volumes.

Her hand said everything. It was firmly planted on your thigh, fingers gripping tight, the pressure almost unbearable. You swore you could feel her nails through the fabric of your jeans, a constant reminder of the simmering tension.

The moment the car stopped and you stepped inside the house, the door barely clicking shut behind you, she was on you. Her body pressed into yours with a heat that knocked the breath from your lungs, pinning you against the door so firmly it rattled in its frame.

Her lips found your neck immediately, and there was nothing soft about it. The first press of her mouth was hungry, almost desperate. She didn’t leave room for you to react, her lips closing around the sensitive skin of your throat, sucking hard, leaving a bruise in its wake.

The sensation shot through your entire body, a mixture of heat and pleasure laced with a sharp twinge of pain that made you tremble.

Her hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your waist, pulling you even closer. She was marking you, claiming you with each kiss, each bite. There was no hesitation, no gentleness, just raw possessiveness.

She moved to the other side of your neck, the pace never slowing, her teeth grazing your skin, her lips locking onto every inch, every vulnerable spot she could find. You couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t even try.

She was determined to cover you in her marks. And she was succeeding.

Her hands slid up, cupping your face as she angled you just the way she wanted. You felt the sharp pull of her mouth once more, and this time it was even harder. She sucked at your neck until you moaned, the sound strangled as she left another mark, darker than the last.

You couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked your body, couldn’t stop the way your knees threatened to buckle beneath you.

She pulled away for a breath, her eyes narrowing as she studied you, searching for something that only she could see. “You didn’t defend me,” she whispered, her voice low, almost a growl. The words felt like a physical blow, and they twisted your stomach into knots. “She said she could treat you better…and you didn’t tell her otherwise.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of her words sink in. Before you could respond, Wanda’s hands were on your shirt, ripping it from your body with a kind of frantic desperation. You gasped, her actions both shocking and thrilling in their intensity, leaving you breathless in more ways than one. Her lips found your collarbone in an instant, her bites sharp and insistent.

Your heart raced, your thoughts scattered in a whirlwind. “I…I got lost in my thoughts,” you finally managed to stutter, your voice trembling.

She paused, just for a moment, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, and the tension between you crackled in the space that remained. “Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?” she asked, her voice rough and demanding, as though she needed you to confess something.

You swallowed, the fear and excitement mixing into something potent. “You, Mommy,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I was thinking about you.”

“Not her?” she growled, her lips brushing over your skin like she was tasting your response. “Your needy little pussy didn’t get wet at the thought of her taking you? Using you like the little whore you are?”

“No, Mommy,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “I was thinking about you and Daddy, how well you treat me, how good you make me feel.” You could feel the heat of her breath against your chest, her teeth scraping against your skin, each bite pulling you deeper into the tension that threatened to consume you both.

Her lips curled into a dark smile, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned in again, her mouth brushing against the raw, bruised skin.

"You’re mine," she murmured, the words sending a thrill through you. "And I’ll remind you of that every chance I get."

You nodded quickly, your throat dry, the weight of Wanda’s gaze still heavy on you. She stepped back just enough to give you space to pass her, but the moment you moved, she was on you again.

Her hand slid to the back of your neck, firm and unyielding, guiding you forward and up the stairs with a force that left no room for hesitation.

When you finally reached the bedroom, she released her hold on your neck. You felt the absence immediately, the air growing colder without the heat of her touch.

But before you could gather your thoughts, she spoke, her voice low, controlled, but still carrying that dark, possessive edge. “Strip."

The command was simple, but it sent a rush through you, a tight knot forming in your chest as you quickly obeyed.

You could feel her eyes on you, watching every movement as you undressed. And the second you were done, she spoke. "Get on the bed. Arms up, legs spread," she commanded, her voice dark and unwavering as she undressed too.

Once again, you complied, your body responding to her authority as if it had no choice.

She approached with measured steps, a quiet authority in every movement. Her hands were steady as they guided you into position on the bed. She took her time securing your limbs, each secured with practiced precision.

Her fingers brushed over your skin afterward, double-checking each restraint, making sure you were held but never harmed. The care in her touch was unmistakable, control, yes, but wrapped in a kind of reverence.

Even in the grip of her possessive rage, Wanda was measured, deliberate. She ensured your safety with every touch, her care never faltering.

Her eyes, which had burned with jealousy moments before, were now steady, focused, scanning you for any sign of discomfort.

“Colour?” she asked, her voice quieter now, gentler but still laced with the simmering remnants of her earlier fury.

The weight of the scene clung to you, every nerve alight, every sense overwhelmed. But beneath it all was something deeper, trust, safety, the grounding memory of how careful she’d been. How her anger never once translated into recklessness. You loved this. All of it. Especially the way she’d handled you like something precious, even as she claimed you.

“Green, Mommy,” you said, clear and steady, no hesitation in your tone, only devotion.

Her lips curled into a small smile, dark and approving. “Good girl,” she whispered, the praise both soothing and possessive, before her eyes darkened again, the storm of her desires never far from the surface.

When she finally climbed over you, it wasn’t lust that drove her, it was obsession, a force bigger than her body, bigger than her fury, something relentless and consuming that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with possession.

Her fingers skimmed your sides, reverent but firm, her touch dragging goosebumps in its wake, and her eyes locked on yours, dark and unblinking, daring you to look away.

Something about the way she held herself above you, barely restrained, seething with intent, made it impossible to breathe, and yet you didn’t want to move. You wanted this. You needed this.

And then she began again, just like downstairs, her mouth returning to your skin with a single-minded purpose. Her lips pressed against your collarbone, soft at first, almost deceiving, and then her teeth followed.

You gasped, your back arching slightly off the bed, your fingers twitching uselessly against the restraints. Her touch ignited something low in your belly and high in your chest all at once.

Another mark, lower now, then another just beneath it. Wanda was painting a story across your skin, one bruise at a time, and every single one echoed with the same word: Mine .

The heat of her mouth was matched only by the fire burning inside you. When her teeth grazed just beneath your ribs, sharper this time, a heavy moan escaped you before you could stop it.

It trembled out of your throat, like your body was pleading for more even as it trembled under the weight of what it had already been given.

Between every bite that still throbbed and the sting of the one currently being delivered, you could feel your cunt begin to ache. Soft whimpers slipped from your lips, your body aching to move, to beg, to chase more. But you didn’t.

This wasn’t about your pleasure, not right now. Wanda needed this. She needed to mark you, to own you, to feel you give yourself over without asking for anything in return. So you offered her your stillness, your obedience, your surrender.

You caught her gaze again, her pupils blown wide, her breathing uneven, and for a flickering second, something shifted in her. Not softness. Not even calm. But relief. A raw, aching flash of gratitude that you were still here, still hers, still letting her claim you like this.

She leaned in again, slower this time, her lips dragging beneath your navel, warm breath ghosting across your skin, shaky, uneven, trembling with the weight of what she was holding back. “Mine,” she whispered, hoarse and low, like the word itself was a vow and a warning wrapped in longing. “Only mine.”

It wasn’t just a claim, it was Wanda pleading with the universe, needing to believe it. Needing to feel that she hadn’t lost you, that even in the wild, blurred aftermath of everything, you were still hers. Her hands gripped tighter, possessive, grounding herself in the feel of your body beneath her.

But beneath the burn of her touch, the worship in her voice, a flicker of something deeper pulled at you. Natasha. You knew you belonged to her, too. And yet Wanda didn’t speak her name. She didn’t leave space for her. Her world had narrowed until you were the only thing in it, and Natasha had been pushed outside it entirely.

You wanted to say it. You wanted to remind her. But the weight of Wanda’s devotion crushed your resistance, the sheer need in her pulling the words out of you before you could stop them.

“Yes, Mommy,” you whispered, voice shaky but sure. “Only yours.” Even as guilt curled warm and quiet in your stomach.

When she finally pulled back just enough to take you in, her eyes swept over her work like a woman on the edge of something unspoken. There was nothing untouched now, your neck, your chest, your hips, your stomach, your thighs, even your arms. Every inch bore her claim. Every inch screamed hers .

“So fucking pretty like this, printsessa (princess), ” she said, her breath hot against your thigh, her lips barely brushing the freshest mark, her voice ragged, torn from somewhere deep inside her chest. “Mine. All mine.”

You nodded instantly, your eyes wide and glassy. You could feel the ache she’d left behind, all over you, and you needed her to know you welcomed it. “I’m yours.”

Her smile returned, that slow, dangerous curl of her mouth that promised she was far from finished. “Say it again,” she murmured, her voice low and breathless, barely even a command this time, it was breathless and hungry, like she needed it to live.

“I’m yours,” you repeated, stronger now, even as your breath hitched, even as you squirmed beneath her.

She tilted her head, assessing, and you knew it wasn’t enough. Not yet. “Louder,” she commanded.

You swallowed, your throat dry and tight, but you forced your voice through the tremble in your chest. “I’m yours, Mommy,” you said, louder now, loud enough to fill the room, to echo off the walls, to blot out everything else. “Only yours. Always.”

She must’ve been at least partially satisfied, because after one final glance at the marks she’d scattered across your body, she shifted, rising off you, and the loss of her weight made you whine, high and broken, a sound pulled from somewhere deep.

Your skin felt too bare without her, your chest too open. Everything in you was aching now, not just with need but with dependency, your senses lit up and stretched tight, every inch of you focused on her.

She had pulled you so far down into a space where nothing existed but her voice, her hands, her mouth, and now, without them, you felt unmoored, trembling. You needed her. You needed her.

Her eyes caught yours, and for a moment, just a flicker, her gaze softened, something quieter slipping through the crack in her control. “Just going to the closet, Little one,” she murmured, her voice dipping into that gentler tone she only used when you were already falling apart. And even though the warmth in her voice was slightly forced, it was enough.

She disappeared into the closet without another word, leaving you alone in the thick, buzzing quiet, your breath shaky, your body still thrumming with heat. When she returned, it was with her strap, a deep scarlet colour, the sight of it enough to make your breath hitch, and your mouth water, the anticipation knotting low and tight in your stomach.

Your thighs shifted instinctively, trying to press together, to find even the smallest flicker of relief, but the restraints didn’t allow it, and your frustration only made the ache worse. Wanda noticed. Of course she noticed. Her eyes dropped to the movement, her gaze catching the way you writhed and failed to hide it.

The smirk that curled across her lips was sharp and knowing, and in an instant, the softness was gone again. The Wanda who looked at you now was all shadow and fire again, dark and certain. The Wanda who would ruin you, just to put you back together again, mark by mark, breath by breath.

She crawled back onto the bed, her eyes locked on yours, hungry and unyielding. She moved between your legs and settled into place without hesitation. “Just stay still and let me use you,” she murmured, her voice low and controlled, but with that same simmering edge that had been there all night, that quiet storm of rage and want and need barely restrained.

And then she buried her strap inside you, hard. No warning, no warm-up with her fingers, not even any gentle licks against your folds to get you ready. Nothing, as if she couldn’t bear to wait another second. As if being inside you is what gave her air to breathe.

The sound that ripped from your throat was sharp, raw, somewhere between a cry and a scream. The stretch hit you like a wave, sudden and overwhelming, pain blooming fast and bright.

For a heartbeat, it was too much. Your breath caught, your muscles tensed. But then, just as quickly as it came, the sharpness blurred, twisted into something hotter, something unbearable in an entirely different way.

Wanda’s thrusts started slow, deliberate, and deep, her movements laced with restraint, but it was a fragile kind.

But you could feel the tension winding tighter in her limbs, in the way her breath hitched, the way her jaw clenched. She was holding back, barely. She was trying to stay composed, to be gentle, or at least gentle enough, but it was written in every shaky inhale, every flicker of heat in her eyes that she was close to losing it, again.

With every thrust, her desperation climbed higher, simmering just beneath her skin until it bled into everything she did. There were no soft praises, playful degradations, or the coaxing, honey-sweet lilt you’d come to expect; just raw, consuming need.

Your body arched beneath her, straining hard against the restraints, every muscle taut, your thighs trembling with the effort of keeping up. You were gasping now, breath hitching in sharp, uneven bursts that never seemed enough, stolen too quickly as she thrusted again, deeper, rougher, like she couldn’t help herself.

“Such a pretty little fuck toy for me. Mine, my pretty whore, Mine,” she whispered the words into the crook of your neck as she sank into you again, barely audible over the thundering of your heartbeat and the rush of sensation unravelling you from the inside out. It didn’t even feel like she was speaking to you, more like a reminder to herself.

You whimpered, your hips twitching helplessly, straining for more. You had heard the word ‘mine’ more today than ever, and it hit something raw inside you, something so deep it felt like your soul reached out for her in response. Yes. You were hers. You wanted to be hers.

And then suddenly her rhythm shifted, less controlled, more frantic, every thrust and motion sharpened by her unraveling restraint. Her mouth was everywhere again, biting, branding, her lips dragging across your neck, your chest, down your stomach, as if she couldn’t decide where to leave the next mark.

Her hands tightened at your hips, fingers digging in with a bruising kind of need, anchoring herself to you like she might fall apart without the contact. She was slipping, further, faster, into that frenzy of need, of fury, of desperate, aching possessiveness that she'd tried so hard to cage since attaching the stap to her hips.

But now with her cock slamming in and out of you, your moans and whines gracing her ears, it surged forward, unfiltered, dragging her under. You could feel it in the way she clung to you, in the way her breath hitched and her nails pressed harder. She wasn’t trying to hold back anymore.

And then she was chanting. “Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Over and over again, like it was the only word she remembered, the only thing that mattered. She was barely even present now, barely aware of the room, of anything but you.

Your entire body shook beneath her, your lungs struggling to keep up with the broken sobs and gasps that kept clawing their way out of your throat. Her voice was low, hoarse, and relentless as it poured over you like a spell, dragging you deeper under with every breathless repetition.

And you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. You just let go, let yourself be hers. Be claimed. Be ruined.

—-

You had no idea how long it had been, but you were both so far gone you didn’t hear the door open, didn’t register the familiar creak of the floorboards or the call of “I’m home” echoing down the hall. Nothing existed beyond the frantic rhythm of Wanda’s body against yours, the relentless chant spilling from her mouth, her teeth grazing your skin, her hands branding you with every touch.

It wasn’t until you heard a sharp, animalistic growl, low and guttural, torn from Wanda’s throat, that your hazy focus shifted. Your eyes blinked sluggishly through the haze, breath catching, and when you managed to look past her, you saw Natasha standing in the doorway.

Her arms hung at her sides, her expression unreadable. But her eyes dragged over you like a blade. Every bruise, every mark Wanda had left behind, every shiver and tremble of your overstimulated body catalogued in a single glance. Her jaw clenched, the muscle ticking once, like she was biting back something sharp.

Wanda didn’t stop. Didn’t falter. She kept chanting under her breath, a broken, breathless litany of “mine, mine, mine” spilling from her lips like it was the only word left. She was lost in it, lost in you. Her hips were steady, relentless, as though Natasha’s presence didn’t even register.

But you felt it. The air went taut, almost brittle. Natasha’s silence carried weight, thick with jealousy, with hunger, with a cold, simmering possessiveness that was entirely her own. She stepped forward, slow and measured, her gaze locked on yours, and something inside you fluttered and clenched all at once. You didn’t know what she was going to do. Punish? Claim? Interrupt? Join?

And yet, even with her rage coiled under her skin, even with her dominance thrumming off her in waves, her first move was exactly what you needed.

She shifted to your side with quiet purpose, her presence grounding as she reached for one of the wrists Wanda had bound. Her fingers ghosted over the edge of the restraint with precision, double-checking its snugness.

The tenderness of it made something flutter deep in your chest, a soft ache blooming in contrast to the intensity you’d been caught in. And then, without a word, she laced her fingers through yours, anchoring you with that simple, intimate gesture: A single squeeze.

Because no matter how tightly jealousy coiled in her gut, no matter how fiercely the hunger flickered in her eyes, Natasha’s instinct was always the same.

Just like Wanda earlier, she put everything else aside, possession, dominance, the sharp edge of being left out, and she checked on you first.

That was who they were. That was what it meant to belong to them. Your safety, your wellbeing, your headspace…All of it came before anything they might want for themselves.

The squeeze said everything she needed to ask: Are you okay? Are you still with us? Do you feel safe?

She didn’t bother to use words. She knew you couldn’t answer like that, not now. Not with your mind fogged and your breath stuttering and your body twitching with every slam of Wanda’s hips. She could read it all, your eyes, your moans, the pitch of your breath. So you squeezed once in return. Green .

She knew what that squeeze meant: Yes. I want this. I want her. I’m safe. And something else, less clear, buried beneath the rest. I want you too. I miss your hands. Your voice.

Her body eased, just barely, the tension rolling back a single inch. But the hunger in her never dimmed. It sharpened instead, focused and precise as she looked back down at you, at the mess Wanda had made of you.

After a beat, Natasha’s focus finally shifted, her eyes dragging away from you and locking onto Wanda, taking in the sheer, unhinged desperation driving every thrust of the strap into your battered pussy. She saw it immediately, the way Wanda had spiralled, and Natasha knew it couldn’t go on like this.

She moved without hesitation, stalking around the bed with quiet authority, climbing on behind Wanda, one hand fisting in her hair and yanking her back just enough to make her spine arch. “Yours, huh?” she bit out, voice low and edged with something dangerous. “Just yours?”

But Wanda didn’t falter. Didn’t even slow. She snarled the word like it was a war cry. “Mine.”

The scene throbbed with tension. Wanda was still pounding into you despite Natasha’s hold, her chant relentless. “What the hell happened?” Natasha asked, voice tight but controlled, like she was clinging to the last shred of calm.

You couldn’t speak, your mouth too slack, your body too gone, and Wanda didn’t answer either, not until Natasha gave another sharp tug, pulling harder, her tone slicing through the fog. “I said,” she growled, “what happened?”

Wanda whimpered, her breath catching like the question had torn through something raw. Her voice came in pieces, ragged and splintered, every word punctuated by a desperate thrust. “Carol. Tried. To. Take. What’s. Mine.”

Natasha’s gaze snapped back to you. It was cold and brimming with something territorial. You braced yourself, expecting her to descend with that same consuming intensity, to tear through Wanda’s marks and press her own into every inch of you until her claim was carved just as deep.

But she didn’t. The sharp edge dulled, tempered by understanding as her eyes swept over you and then her wife.

Wanda wasn’t just fucking you. She was holding on for dear life. Natasha saw it clearly now, recognised it for what it was. Wanda had lost too many people, too many pieces of herself over the years. The fear of losing you had cracked her wide open.

Natasha could’ve taken what she wanted. Could’ve made her own claim in kind. But for now, instead, she exhaled, letting her dominant instinct soften just enough. You needed grounding, and Wanda needed pulling back. And Natasha would be the one to do it. Even if every part of her still ached to take.

She reached around, her hand locking firm around Wanda’s waist, stilling her movement with ease. “What’s ours,” she said evenly, the correction deliberate as her grip tightened. Wanda whined at the restraint, hips twitching against Natasha’s hold, and you whimpered too, aching at the loss of friction.

Wanda’s control began to splinter the moment Natasha kissed her, slow, grounding kisses against her cheek, tender in a way that cut through the haze like a balm.

Her head lolled back against Natasha’s shoulder, her body still tense, but wavering now. “Do you need to safeword, Wands?” Natasha murmured against her skin, the calm, coaxing cadence unmistakable. “You seem... out of control, lyubov' (love). ”

Wanda shook her head, a near-frantic movement, “No! Need to cum, wanna cum!” Neither of you had cum yet despite how long it had gone on, despite the desperate grind and the bruising rhythm.

Hearing that desperate plea fall from Wanda’s lips while she held so much power over you felt dissonant, but it lit a fire in you all the same. She usually took what she wanted, came when she wanted, without a second thought, but now it was clear she was floundering.

The scene had shaken her, and no matter how hard she had been trying, she couldn’t do it alone. That crack in her composure did something to you. It slipped under your skin, tangled in your chest, and before you could stop it, a moan fell from your lips, needy, involuntary, betraying just how much it affected you.

Natasha turned to you at the sound. “If she hasn’t,” she murmured, voice gentle now as her eyes found yours again, “then I’d wager you haven’t either, have you?” You shook your head, breath still coming in shallow bursts.

Something in her expression changed again the moment she realised you’d been holding back this entire time. The flicker of pride came first, swift and searing, lighting her eyes with approval. “Good girl,” she murmured, and the praise landed like a reward you didn’t know you’d been waiting for.

But then her gaze gentled, the pride ebbing into something softer, sadder, closer to regret than triumph. Like she could see how much you’d given, how much you’d endured, and how long you’d waited. “I think you both need Daddy, hm?”

It wasn’t often that Wanda submitted to Natasha, twice, maybe three times since you’d all been together, and only ever when she wasn’t fully in control of her headspace, when she needed grounding but needed to continue. But Wanda nodded slowly, the fight draining out of her body as she leaned back into Natasha’s hold, surrendering.

Natasha’s hands moved, settling on Wanda’s hips, allowing her to move again but slowing her movements with firm, steady pressure. “That’s it,” she murmured low against Wanda’s ear, her voice soft but commanding. “She’s been so good for you, Detka (babe). Took everything you gave her, didn’t she?”

Wanda shuddered, still panting, still half-lost, but she nodded, her body giving into Natasha’s lead without resistance.

Natasha kept her tone gentle, coaxing, like she was taming something raw and shaking. “How about you let her finish now, hm? Let her cum for us.”

Wanda didn’t speak, she didn’t need to. She just followed, pliant under Natasha’s hands, her breath catching as she thrust her hips in rhythm with the guidance she was given. And Natasha, her mouth brushing Wanda’s temple, praised her low and warm, “Good girl.”

Wanda whimpered at the praise, her body trembling and her mind still fogged with the frenzy that had consumed her, but Natasha’s presence gave her something to hold on to, something solid to ground herself against.

You could feel the shift, the difference in how Wanda moved now. Her thrusts lost their wildness and turned into something more intimate, more focused, like she was being taught how to feel again.

And god, you felt it too. Every inch of it. Your breath stuttered, hips jerking involuntarily with each movement, your body already so close to the edge it ached. The pressure coiled tight in your core, a simmering burn that had been denied too long. Natasha’s eyes were on you, catching every flinch, every gasp, every tremble.

“She’s close,” Natasha murmured into Wanda’s hair, her voice rich with heat and reverence. “Can you feel that? I bet her cunt is so tight around your cock.” Wanda let out a broken moan and nodded, her pace faltering for a moment under the weight of Natasha’s words.

Natasha’s hand left Wanda’s and slid up to her throat, not choking, just holding, grounding, a firm reminder of presence, of who was in control.

Her other guided Wanda’s towards your clit, silently reminding her to provide the stimulation you needed, and it shattered you, the added touch stealing your breath as you cried out.

“That’s it,” she purred, low and commanding.. “Let us have it, Little one. Let go.”

And you did. It crashed into you like a wave, hard and fast and all-consuming. Your back arched, the restraints biting into your wrists as your body bowed under the force of your release.

You screamed and whimpered, and they were both there, holding you through it, Wanda clinging to you like she could anchor herself to your pleasure, Natasha murmuring praise that bled into your skin like balm.

With Natasha’s guidance, Wanda stopped thrusting and began to grind, the base of the strap finally giving her the stimulation she needed. She came not long after you with a desperate sob, body trembling violently. Natasha’s voice, a blend of filthy praise and affection, slid into her ear, coaxing her through it. As Wanda’s body went limp, attempting to collapse against you, Natasha caught her effortlessly, aware of the soreness you’d likely feel.

Wanda whimpered at not being able to snuggle into you, and Natasha pressed a kiss to her temple. “She’s right here,” she murmured softly, before gently laying her down beside you. Wanda instinctively curled into you with a sigh, seeking the comfort of your warmth.

Natasha pressed another gentle kiss to the top of Wanda’s head before shifting her attention to you. Her movements were practiced, instinctive, and soft as she moved to unbuckle the restraint on your wrist.

The second the leather came loose, your arm dropped like dead weight, boneless and sore. Natasha caught it gently, guiding it to rest over Wanda’s back. You curled your fingers into her skin instinctively, craving the contact, the reassurance.

The other restraint came next, then your legs, Natasha working with slow, deliberate tenderness, her hands steady and reverent. Every time you winced, she soothed it with a murmur, a stroke over the inflamed area or a kiss.

Wanda wasn’t moving much now. She was pliant, completely surrendered, clinging to you with the last threads of adrenaline. Natasha knew that look, knew Wanda had dropped deep, and you weren’t far behind.

Her voice softened even further as she pulled the blanket up over both of you, tucking it around your bare limbs like armour. She leaned down, her hand brushing tenderly over your cheek, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “There’s our girl,” she whispered, her voice low and thick with pride. “You did so fucking well. Mommy really used you, huh?”

Your throat was too raw for words, your mind still floating in that hazy space between pleasure and exhaustion, but you nodded.

Natasha kissed you once more before slipping away from the bed. You assumed she was going to get water, and you were right; she was back within seconds, moving with her usual calm efficiency.

She guided your head gently, coaxing the glass to your lips until you took a few slow sips, then shifted to pry Wanda up just enough to do the same for her. Neither of you drank much, but it was enough to get you at least a bit hydrated.

Wanda exhaled, her breath hitching before she whispered, “Didn’t mean to lose it like that.” A pause, a stillness between you, broken only by her unsteady breathing. “Carol wanted you...said that...that she could...treat you better.”

Her voice cracked slightly, the words filled with vulnerability, and your chest tightened at the pain in them.

Then her tone shifted, rising into a whine, hurt lacing her every syllable as she clung to you tighter. “She tried to take her from us, Nat,” Wanda whimpered, her eyes flicking to Natasha even as she clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her anchored.

Natasha’s jaw tensed, her eyes flicking up for a moment, but she said nothing. Instead, she settled in behind Wanda, wrapping herself around her wife like a shield. Usually, you were in the middle, the one cocooned in their arms, but it was clear Wanda needed that security now.

Natasha began to stroke her hand gently over Wanda’s spine, her touch slow and comforting. She didn’t forget you either, though. Her other hand reached across the space to where your wrist was still faintly marked, fingers brushing the bruised skin in slow, soothing circles.

Time passed in a slow, syrupy kind of stillness, thick with warmth and the quiet hum of three heartbeats finding their way back into sync. Wanda lay curled against your side, her face pressed into your collarbone like she could disappear into you, her breath evening out in slow pulls that softened with each minute.

You felt the shift in her, how the tension bled out of her muscles with every exhale, how her fingers that had clutched you with bruising desperation earlier now merely rested, featherlight and unmoving.

Natasha’s hand never stopped. She trailed her fingers lazily up and down your arm, over Wanda’s spine, keeping you both tethered to the present.

Eventually, Wanda stirred. Not much, just a shift in how her legs tangled with yours, a blink that stretched long enough to signal she’d returned to herself. She looked up at you, her cheeks still pink, her hair tousled from earlier. But her eyes, they were clearer. Worry creeping back in.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice hushed. Her gaze scanned your face like she expected to find something broken.

You gave her a tired, lopsided smile. “Course I am. I don’t break that easily,” you said with a wink, even if your voice was still a bit scratchy from earlier.

She looked relieved. Kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, a soft, fluttering press that made you giggle as her breath brushed against your skin. “Good,” she whispered against your mouth, and you could feel the last of her tension ebb as she rested her head against your shoulder again.

“Alright,” Natasha said eventually, propping herself up on one elbow and glancing down at you both, her voice light but edged with unmistakable command. “Time to soothe those marks, you must be sore, hm?”

You groaned immediately, flopping back onto the pillow. “Do we have to?” you whined, dragging out the syllables like a sulking child. “Can’t we just stay here? Forever?”

Wanda let out a sympathetic sound and buried her face back in your chest for a second. “She has a point…”

Natasha raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You two are impossible. Yes, we have to. Wands, you went feral. She's covered in bruises and bites.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even as you rolled your eyes. “You make it sound like she mauled me.”

Natasha sat up straighter, grabbing the lotion bottle off the nightstand. “She did maul you. Look at this—” She tugged the sheet down just enough to expose your chest, your stomach, the inside of your thighs. The marks were everywhere, hickeys darkening by the minute, deep, vivid bursts of colour in the shape of Wanda’s mouth. “You’re a goddamn work of art. Or a crime scene.”

Wanda peeked down at your skin and let out a low, sheepish laugh. “Oops.”

“‘Oops,’” Natasha repeated dryly, her tone somewhere between fond and chastising. She gave Wanda a light nudge with her shoulder. “You’re lucky she likes being ruined.”

“I love being ruined,” you chimed in helpfully, grinning as both their eyes snapped to you with matching looks of exasperated affection.

Wanda leaned down and nuzzled your jaw, her voice a little lower now, velvet-soft and sincere. “I do still feel bad. I got...swept up. Possessive. Jealous. Like I had to prove something. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said gently. “And you didn’t. I promise.”

Still, she dipped her fingers into the lotion and rubbed them together slowly to warm it, her movements suddenly careful. She started at your wrists, your poor, bruised wrists where the restraints had bitten deep, and touched you like she was handling something sacred. Her fingers glided over your skin in slow circles, whispering apologies into every motion.

Natasha joined in a moment later, taking your other side. She pushed the sheets down further, exposing more of your bruised body to the soft lighting, and began to work the balm into your sore muscles. Their hands moved over you in tandem, smoothing across the worst of the bruises, ghosting over the places that still burned faintly from overstimulation.

And for a while, no one spoke. The only sounds were your soft sighs, the quiet slick of lotion on skin, the muted creak of the bed as they shifted around you.

Once they were done, Natasha glanced down at your neck and snorted. “There is no way you’re going to college looking like this,” she said with a laugh, dragging a fingertip lightly over a particularly brutal hickey under your jaw. “You look like you tried to join a vampire cult.”

You snorted softly, still squirming beneath their slow, soothing touches. “If Wanda were a vampire, I’d definitely let her bite me.”

You thought it was harmless. Wanda certainly looked pleased. Her eyes glinted, teeth flashing as she leaned close again, brushing her lips along your throat. "Careful," she breathed, her voice low and smooth, “I might take you up on that.”

A shiver ran through you at the sound, your breath hitching as her words sank in, stirring something deep inside. Your body responded without hesitation, already aching, already yearning for more despite the evening you’d already had.

And just like that, Natasha froze, her eyes locking onto Wanda, as she once again threatened to claim. But now, as she saw the way you were reacting, the way you were craving more, Natasha’s restraint faltered. It was different from before. You were ready, and that knowledge twisted something deep inside her, making it harder to hold herself back.

“I better be allowed to bite too,” Natasha murmured, her voice low and simmering with tension. It wasn’t loud, but it had a sharp edge to it, a warning wrapped in something darker. “You’re lucky I’m not already. Wanda stole you, made you hers, and hers alone.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to deny it, but she was already moving. Her fingers left your skin only long enough to catch Wanda’s chin in a firm grip, tilting her face up, forcing her to meet her eyes.

“You ever forget that she is ours again,” Natasha said, quiet and razor-sharp, “you will regret it.”

Wanda swallowed hard, the flush on her cheeks deepening, her pupils dilating wide as she whimpered under Natasha’s hold. Her legs squeezed together as if that could do anything to stop the ache building between them. Her body instinctively allowed Natasha to take the lead again, as if it knew that was what Natasha needed. She nodded once, quickly. “Yes, Nat.”

“Good girl,” Natasha praised, brushing her thumb across Wanda’s cheek with maddening softness. But she didn’t let go. “You don’t get to take her like that without me, ever.”

She finally released her chin and turned back to you, eyes darker now, warmer, but hungrier.

“And you,” she murmured, smoothing both palms down your sides, fingers slipping over your hips and between your legs, “you were very good letting Wanda use you, weren’t you? Letting her get drunk on jealousy and ruin your pretty little pussy without even thinking to let me join.”

You gasped as her fingers brushed over your slick again, slow and unhurried. You were soaked already. Every part of you felt raw and needy, but Natasha was in no rush.

“But you are ours,” she said, sliding two fingers through your folds, not yet pressing in, just letting you feel the threat of it, “Ours .”

Wanda let out a soft, broken noise, eyes fixed on where Natasha’s hand was between your legs. Her hand moved as she was about to reach for you, but Natasha caught the movement without even looking.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” she said, like it wasn’t up for debate. “You don’t get to help until I say so. You had your fun.”

Wanda whimpered, chest rising and falling fast, her cheeks glowing with shame and lust.

Natasha finally slipped a finger inside you, slow and shallow, barely enough to satisfy, but your back still arched up from the mattress. Her other hand splayed across your hip, holding you still.

“You’re so fucking wet,” she murmured with a smirk, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh. “You like this, don’t you? Being good for us. Letting her make a mess of you, and then letting me put you back together.”

Wanda’s breath caught as she watched, her hands fisting in the sheets beside her thighs. “Natasha—”

“Shh,” Natasha interrupted. “You don’t get to speak unless I tell you to either.”

You whimpered at the sound of Wanda’s submission, it added fuel to the fire burning through you. Natasha added a second finger, pressing deep this time, and you cried out, your whole body tensing around her.

“That’s it,” she cooed. “Such a good girl. Ours. Not hers. Never just hers.”

You nodded frantically, brain already fogging under the slow, relentless pace. “Yours, yours, yours. Daddy, please!”

Natasha smiled, pleased, eyes gleaming as she leaned in to kiss your jaw, your ear, her tongue darting out to taste the sweat there.

Wanda’s hands were trembling as she watched, the heat between her thighs unbearable. She couldn’t stand the fact that she had to watch.

Each sob, wail, moan, and sigh that left your lips only deepened the ache in her chest, reminding her of what she had done, of how she had left Natasha out when she should have known better.

It was the perfect punishment, but Wanda couldn’t help but try her luck again. “Please, Nat,” Wanda whispered, her voice thick with need and desperation. “Please let me—”

Natasha turned her head, eyes flashing. “No,” she said simply. “Not yet. You want her? You earn it. You wait.”

And then she curled her fingers just right, again and again, dragging you higher with each pass, her thumb barely brushing your clit until you were trembling, too far gone to do anything but moan.

The room pulsed with the sound of your breathing, with your soft cries and the wet sound of her hand moving in and out of your cunt. Every stroke, every whispered word sent a rush of heat through you, the world narrowing to nothing but the feeling of her fingers inside you.

Even as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, Natasha never let up. Her movements were unrelenting, rhythmic, a steady push and pull that kept you coming without giving you so much as a chance to truly catch your breath.

You didn’t know how many times you’d screamed in release, each one blurred into the next, an unending rhythm that left you gasping, skin slick with sweat, your body trembling under her control.

Eventually her pace slowed, and your eyes fluttered open, the world around you a haze of soft light and warmth. You turned your head slightly, and your gaze found Wanda. Her eyes were wide, her breath equally as erratic. She was flushed and panting like she’d been the one writhing beneath Natasha’s hand.

“God, look at you,” Natasha murmured, eyes still on you, even as she addressed Wanda. “So fucking needy, you only had her an hour ago. Pathetic.”

Wanda whimpered as her hands twitched again, and this time, she couldn’t resist; she reached out, just enough to brush her fingertips against Natasha’s arm. “Please,” she begged again, her voice barely a whisper, but it was a plea nonetheless.

“Fine, but only because I’m generous,” Natasha murmured as she kissed your temple, and then your cheek, her fingers never stopping. “I’m not cruel. I share.”

She tilted her head, her gaze soft yet commanding as she finally looked over at Wanda. “You want to taste her?” Natasha’s voice was low, deliberate, as if she already knew the answer.

Wanda's breath hitched at the words, her entire body tense with yearning. Her eyes flicked to Natasha, wide and pleading, before they dropped to you.

Your skin was glistening with sweat, your chest rising and falling in the haze of pleasure still swirling through you. She nodded, the movement almost frantic, her voice trembling with need. “Yes, yes, please, Nat! I want to please!”

Natasha’s lips quirked into a small, wicked smile, a brief flicker of satisfaction passing across her face before she leaned down, her kiss slow and deep. It was a kiss that said she was still in control, even if she was letting Wanda in. She pulled away just enough to speak, “Then come here.”

Unlike her usual poised self, Wanda wasn’t graceful as she moved, urgency in her every motion. The moment she reached your legs, her gaze lifted, her eyes locking with Natasha's.

Natasha moved her hand, slowly, so slowly from between your folds, her fingers glistening with your cum. “Open your mouth.”

Wanda obeyed. Natasha pressed two fingers past her lips, watching her take them in eagerly, greedily.

“Good girl,” Natasha praised, eyes softening just a little. “Now you can touch her. You can thank her. And you can show her just how sorry you are.”

She shifted to one side, but not far, not giving up control, just…allowing space. Letting Wanda kneel between your legs, hands shaking as she lowered her head.

Wanda’s tongue slid over your folds and your clit gently before diving in fully, like a woman starved. It was as if the act of watching had only intensified her need, making it raw and undeniable despite the fact that she had already claimed you so thoroughly.

“That’s it,” Natasha murmured, stroking your stomach, watching Wanda devour you. “She’s ours. Not yours. Not mine. Ours.”

Her hand slid up to cup your breast, squeezing gently, her thumb brushing over your nipple, squeezing and teasing in perfect time with Wanda’s mouth.

Every touch sent waves through you, every whisper tangled around your spine. Natasha’s voice wrapped around you, her praise both tender and unrelenting, while Wanda’s lips and hands moved like a vow, her remorse bleeding into every lick and every suck as she drank you dry, bringing you closer and closer.

You couldn’t hold yourself together. The intimacy, the intensity, it was too much. You splintered under it, unravelled into the space between their bodies, between their worship and their claim. And this time, when you broke, it wasn’t just your body giving in. It was your heart, your trust, your submission.

And through it all, Natasha's voice, low and reverent at your ear, became the centre of everything, grounding you even as you soared.

“That’s it, Little one,” she murmured, almost like a prayer. “That’s what you needed. That’s what we give you, together.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda #daddy natasha #wlw smut #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #switch wanda #Bishovapls Fics #our little one

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dduane · 3 months ago

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Just checking in

Because some of y'all are worrying about me, I know.

(Inserting a cut here. TW, as you might expect, for mentions of death and after-death issues. Also of crap beds, noisy clueless tourists, and giant koi.)

The "Trip Away From Home To Try To Get A Grip On Things" is proceeding as well as it can when the one element it would need to be perfect, and truly enjoyable, is missing. (sighing) If Peter was along in corporeal form, he would be lapping this up.

...Well, everything except the current weather. I'm in Interlaken, and it's raining. And not just some little passing episodic rain, either. This is more, even, than the Irish definition of "soft weather". It's coming down in the steady persistent way that would make Peter say "Well, that's on for the day..." And so it may be. So for the time being, I get to sit in the hotel and watch it rain, and consider the odds of actually getting up the Jungfrau to see the Aletsch Glacier before any more of it melts. (And those odds seem poor: but more of that later.)

So here's where I've been:

Dublin—overnight in U2's hotel. Which is very nice. And which has come down in price, astonishingly, on their singles. (Though I nonetheless thank, yet again, the folks who have made this difficult transitional people so much less problematic for me via Ko-Fi.) As Peter had been telling me I really should try this place some time when I had to be going somewhere else, I took him at his word.

Zürich, just briefly. (Shopping will wait until the run back.) On the way to:

Basel, for one night before the Eurovision finals. I don't know for sure, but it seems likely to me that Basel may have broken the record for biggest Eurovision venue (the St. Jakob's Stadion had 49K people in it on Saturday night). Also: one of my cabbies told me that the city had nearly half a million tourists in it... which, for a little-ish city like Basel, is a whole lot. I can tell you that about half them seemed to be walking around in the streets when we were trying to drive in them, and it was a nightmare, and my cabbies were saying terrible things in Baslerdeutsch.

Freiburg im Breisgau for two nights out of a planned three. ...I had to go early, as the bed in the [otherwise lovely] room the hotel had put me in was not good for my back. Fortunately I had enough funds on hand to simply kiss off that third night and return to the hotel in Basel, which not only had way better beds, but the most comfortable pillows I've ever slept on in a central-European hotel. I would go back to the Maerthof (money allowing: it ain't cheap...) for just the pillows alone. (And also the shower in the room was terrific, and I very much noticed and appreciated the numerous solid and well-placed accessibility aids. Ask for room 402, and don't freak out when the anti-sun glare blinds automatically come down at 0900.)

And now, Interlaken (already famous to some of you for this craziness, in which we found soup ads in Terry Pratchett's German editions). I'll be here tonight and tomorrow night, and then (probably, not decided yet) in Bern the night after. Zürich again the night after that, as I fly back to Dublin the next day, see people on the Dublin 2029 planning committee, and then... head back home to get on with gettin' on. ...Whatever that looks like.

Mental state: I miss him. Oh gods I miss him! Every fifth minute. Or third. And I always will! That's not a conditional. But I'm watching my moods (and physical health) with great care. If I start suspecting that I need antidepressents, or some other kind of specialized care, I'll go get it. There's lots of it around. (I note in passing that my appetite has slowly come back. My sleep patterns are still stupid, but I'm getting more sleep than earlier in this ten-day period.)

Be clear, too, that this isn't just me Being Tough because it's expected of me. I now have even more work-related responsibilities than I had earlier... as soon enough the copyrights on Peter's books will pass to my guardianship, and I have to make sure they're properly cared for. (In particular, his contract with his current e-book publisher is about to run out, and I think I'll be reclaiming those for publication at Ebooks Direct, as the other guys haven't been doing that stellar a job with them.)

And then I have to figure out: what do I need to do to write, now? Because there's a whole lot of that work that needs doing. Can I ever do it again in that house that's so quiet without him? And if not, how do I make this work? Peter has been the not-so-silent foundation of my life for forty years. (We missed that fortieth wedding anniversary by so little...) My most constant reader is now no longer in condition to read and report back...

(sighing) We shall see. Everything, now, is an adventure. Just nowhere near as cool a one as it was when he was here.

...Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the hotel in Interlaken, which has a charmingly modernized yes-this-is-the-Swiss-countryside-but-we-have-heard-of-modern-life-thank-you-very-fucking-much quality to it. And in particular: it's next to a feature called "The Japanese Garden" that features a pond with some of the BIGGEST damn koi I've ever seen. The damn things are like zeppelins. I'll post pics of them tomorrow: I want to see if there might be better lighting in the morning. They remind me of the ones at this hotel in Santa Monica that used to come up to the poolside bar seats and make adorable irresistible Fishy Faces at you until you fed them salted peanuts from the bar snacks. Which apparently they knew they were not allowed to have, but loved anyway, and they would make faces at you until you broke and appeased them.)

Meanwhile, here is this evening's wine. "Lucifer"? What's not to like? It's a light Valisan quaffing red.

("When you're drinking Swiss reds," says the Voice In My Head, "get the whole damn bottle. It's cheaper than by the glass. And if you don't finish it, or we don't finish it, you can always take it up to the room with you and have it tomorrow.")

(...You see what I put up with.) :)

Hugs to you all.

#status report #reporting in #Peter Morwood #tw:recent death

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jeonginsleftcheek · 5 months ago

Text

Dolly VI

~ part 6 of the Dolly series

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: Being the CEO of a big company meant you were always buried with work, staying late at the office, never having time to yourself. Your employees have a habit of giving you funny gifts to make you get out and live your life a little, as they say. Even though you expect crazy gifts from them, you never expected to get something that would change your life forever.

wc: 8.0k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m)

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sigh passed your lips as you rubbed your temples, the screen in front of you blurring for a moment and making you close your eyes tightly. You leaned back in your chair to stretch, you've been sitting in the same position for hours.

"Wow." you muttered, realizing your legs were actually numb. It was time to get up, at least for a moment, you thought and stood up. You made your way to the big glass windows behind your chair and stared at the view of the city.

Here, on the top of it all stands your dream. You've worked hard to get to where you are, dedicating your entire life only to your career. You knew nothing else but work, yet sometimes it felt as if everything was about to crumble underneath your feet.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." you said after clearing your throat.

"Miss, I brought you the papers you asked for." it was your assistant, Maxine. The poor girl had to stay behind with you every time and you made sure to pay her those extra hours well, feeling bad that you had to make her stay here on a Friday night.

You turned and smiled slightly at her, nodding towards your desk.

"You can leave them there. Thank you, Maxine." you said and she nodded, putting the big stack of papers on top of the other, smaller stack you were almost done with.

"You can go home, Maxine. There's no point in you being here plus it's Friday, you must have somewhere better to be than at work." you added and her eyes widened slightly.

"Are you sure miss?" she asked and you nodded.

"Of course, have a good weekend!" you said with a smile.

"Thanks, you too boss!" she smiled back and exited the office, leaving you alone with your thoughts and papers.

You glanced at the table, calculating how long you'll be here but then you noticed a light pink envelope sticking between the papers. With furrowed brows you came closer to the table, pulling the envelope out.

'From your faithful employees, consider this an early birthday gift to the best boss ever!'

You chuckled when you read the writing on it, your fingertips running over the various signatures of your employees. What did they have up their sleeve now?

You opened up the envelope and pulled out the little card inside, reading it quietly.

Hello,

my name is Changbin and I am your strong dolly.

I love going on gym dates and after that eating some good food! I enjoy watching movies so I hope you'll share your favorites with me.

Please be tender with me, even though I seem tough, I need someone to lean on too so don't forget to give me a hug.

Hope you will come to love me as much as I love you.

"What?" you chuckled then saw someone added something on the card.

'We got him delivered to your house, enjoy!'

No way. Did your employees buy you a sex doll?

Your face warmed up instantly. Those bastards, you chuckled to yourself, the nickname more of an endearment than an insult.

Maybe the papers could wait until tomorrow.

It was raining hard when you finally parked in front of your building, rushing inside with your bag shielding your head. You almost tripped over your legs, your heels making it hard to run.

The building was completely quiet as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button 12. You looked down at your watch, it was almost 2am. You shook your head, impatient to see what the gift looked like.

There was a huge box in front of your apartment door and you made your way there quickly.

After unlocking your door, you dragged the box inside, almost falling over a few times. After quickly closing the door and throwing your heels off of your feet, you decided to open the box immediately, no more waiting.

"Oh. Look at that." your heart skipped a beat.

This Changbin doll definitely looked like a man you'd turn your head after if you saw him in the street. At least your employees seemed to know your taste.

At the same time, you were curious, you've never seen a doll that is so humanlike. Gulping, you kneeled down next to the box and reached out to touch his face.

"Tell me your skincare routine." you chuckled, playing with his hair a little.

You noticed a piece of paper stuck between his fingers so you grabbed it gently and looked at it.

My honey!

I chose a comfy outfit for us to enjoy a movie together!

Hope you'll love our first night together as much as I will!

Honey. You blushed profusely at the nickname.

Have I been single for so long that this got me going?, you asked yourself, feeling embarrassed.

Yet, you couldn't even remember the last time someone flirted with you. And if they did, it probably went over your head because you were only thinking about work 24/7. Even now, you had brought the papers home so you can finish everything during the weekend.

Your stomach growled and you stood up, holding the manual for the dolly as you heated up some dinner. You needed to eat healthier food, you knew that. But who has time for cooking when you're working 24/7?

You read the manual carefully, flipping the pages as you ate your dinner; leftovers from yesterday. Not ideal, but you had no other options at this moment. Your face started burning suddenly when you got to the section about what the doll was made for and what it can do.

"Oh my god." you quickly closed the manual with a little giggle. You glanced at the box, deciding to take a shower and get rid of your suit first.

When you were finally refreshed, feeling like a new person, you made your way back to your new doll.

"How do I get you out?" you pursed your lips. Yes, you did some yoga but you had no idea if you could lift up an entire human sized doll.

You pushed the box to your room, putting it next to your bed. With all the strength you could gather you managed to pull Changbin out of the box and place him on top of your covers with your body giving out and plopping down on top of him.

"Oh." you were surprised by the warmth of his body. You didn't really follow the latest technology developments, only using what you needed for work and daily life, but this must be some new and advanced technology you've never come across.

You crawled under the covers, putting them over Changbin too as you grabbed your phone and checked out the site with the dolls. Their primary function was to be used for pleasure but you felt like Changbin could be more than that. Maybe a cuddle buddy? You chuckled and pressed your cheek against his chest as you laid half of your body on top of him. You could feel the muscles underneath the clothes he was dressed in and it made your heart skip a beat.

You continued scrolling through the site, seeing the other doll models, some of them sold out. They were all charming in their own way, but you were sure you'd choose Changbin if you were buying one by yourself.

"Wow, only one of each?"

You scrolled all the way to the end and in the left-hand corner you saw very small letters saying: property of BIMT.

"BIMT?" it sounded so familiar, and you couldn't remember where you had heard that before.

You shrugged, too tired to think or look at your phone anymore so you put it aside and hugged your Changbin dolly, happy to have a warm body to hold during a usually lonely night.

You had never slept this well in your life, so well that you didn't even hear your alarm clock trying to wake you up.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed once your eyes opened and you noticed it was past 10am.

Usually, during the weekend you'd still wake up earlier, around 7am so you could go for a run and do your stretching or yoga session. Plus, the weekend was the only time you could clean up your apartment thoroughly.

What surprised you even more, was that you were turned on for some reason. You must've had some interesting dreams to wake up like this.

Embarrassment seeped into you as you looked at Changbin's face. You scanned around your room as if someone was watching you, which of course no one was. But you felt so awkward using the doll.

You propped yourself on your elbow and hovered over Changbin's face.

"Hello. Good morning." you waved in front of his face but of course he didn't even blink.

"How do I do this?" you chewed on your lip. You observed him for another moment before placing your palm on his chest and tentatively sliding it down. Your hand explored slowly and gently, working yourself up as you touched his defined muscles.

"Huge..." you gasped a little when you gripped at his bicep. Your body was heating up and so was his, the doll was getting excited. You read it in the manual but seeing it happen was something else. Licking your lips, your hand slid down more as you threw your leg over him, your knee brushing against his bulge.

"Oh." your eyes widened and you stopped for a moment to catch your breath, before sliding your hand down to touch him. Your doll was definitely big.

Something inside you snapped and you forgot about being embarrassed quickly as you started moving against his thigh. You whined, finding a good position to where you could straddle his thigh and continued your ministrations. The dolly seemed somehow... happy. Your cheeks warmed up suddenly, it felt like his attention was on you, like his eyes were actually looking at you. Your knee kept brushing against his erection, making him twitch in his pants.

"It's like you're alive." you whispered, mesmerized.

You bit on your lip and decided to rid him of his pants and underwear.

"Oh my." you slapped your hand against your mouth. "Changbin." you giggled after saying his name, it felt good to feel it rolling off of your tongue.

Taken by the moment, you got rid off your clothes and his shirt too, admiring his beautiful body. You wanted to take your time with him and kiss him everywhere, explore him with your hands but that would have to wait for another time when you're not this desperate to get off.

You hovered over him before sitting down, your wet pussy pressed against his hard cock.

"Ah." a little moan escaped your lips as you started grinding on him with slow and languid movements, enjoying the way Changbin's cock kept twitching against you like he wanted in.

Your embarrassment completely disappeared, turning into pure pleasure as your clit kept dragging against him, your pussy clenching to be filled up. You lifted your hips just a little to grab his cock and slowly push it in, even though he was bigger, you took him well like he was made just for you.

You put in the work as you bounced on top of him, your hands roaming on his belly and chest, across his perky nipples as you grabbed at him. He was heating up even more, matching the heat of your body and the hot atmosphere created inside your room. You looked at Changbin's face and gasped, it seemed as if he was smirking ever so slightly. Your pussy clenched at the thought of him being alive and touching you too so you sped up, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

"Binnie." you whimpered and he twitched hard. It was right there in the manual, just keep saying his name.

"Binnie." you said again, your movements becoming sloppier as you got more tired and closer to your high. "Changbin!" you groaned loudly once you exploded, riding your high on top of him as you gyrated your hips. Tears gathered in your eyes from the overstimulation you brought to yourself as you kept repeating his name until he exploded inside you, filling you up with ropes of warm cum.

"Fuck." you cursed, lifting off of him, feeling all sticky and embarrassed again.

"I must be crazy." you shook your head and ran to your bathroom to get cleaned up. Of course, you cleaned your dolly too and then looked at his face more closely, biting on your lip and trying to see if there were any changes in his expression.

"You need a hug, right?" you said before putting your arms around Changbin. It felt so comforting to be wrapped around him.

Your weekend was mostly uneventful as always, but this time you had Changbin watching over you as you cleaned around your apartment. You managed to take him everywhere by putting him on your office chair with wheels.

"You could help, you know?" you grunted before continuing to vacuum the living room.

Changbin's eyes followed you while you cleaned and while you did your yoga. He watched as you sat hunched over your computer in your home office and worked, typing quickly and going over all the papers you brought home. He watched you struggling with the groceries and cursing quietly.

He wished he could help.

Monday came around too quickly and you rolled out of bed reluctantly, not wanting to separate from Changbin's warm body.

Spring was around the corner, but it was still cold in the mornings and you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day. But, you had a really important meeting today and you couldn't afford to be late. You were in a frenzy, getting dressed quickly as you had almost overslept through all your alarms.

"You're making it hard for me to leave my bed." you smirked at Changbin, shaking your head slightly as you grabbed your bag.

"I'll see you later, cutie." you kissed his lips and practically skipped all the way to your car.

Was it pathetic that a doll made you feel this happy?, you thought. Maybe it did, but who cares, you weren't harming anyone plus it was a gift and you should be thankful for it.

As soon as you arrived to your office, one of your employees, Tina, smirked at you.

"Good morning, boss! Did you like our gift?" she asked and you blushed profusely immediately.

"I really did. Thank you." you said and she chuckled.

"If we land this deal, you promised to take some time off. I hope you still mean that." she said, walking with you. Everyone knew you barely took time off, they'd have to pry you off of your desk and force you to finally rest.

"When we land this deal. Not if." you smirked at her, saying hello to a few more other employees as you passed them by.

"Good morning!" Maxine greeted you cheerfully. "All the reports for the meeting are ready on your desk and I prepared the presentation room for you."

"Oh, always so fast." you chuckled.

"Just keeping up with you, boss." she winked, following you into the office. You left all your stuff there and quickly looked through the reports, having already studied them, this was going to be a piece of cake for you.

Where you were shy in your personal life, at work you were the complete opposite, your ambition and drive brought you to high places and you had no problem with biting hard and showing off your skills and knowledge.

There were at least twelve people in the room and you took a deep breath in as you stood in front of them. Maxine nodded at you with a thumbs up.

The presentation went smoothly and the partners were satisfied with your results and conclusions, the deal has been made.

"Congratulations, boss! Now you can take your vacation!" Maxine said and you laughed.

"Well, maybe I should stay a little bit more to-"

"No, no. You need some wildness in your life away from all the seriousness, suits and papers, hm?"

"Maxine is right. If anyone deserves this vacay, it's you." Tina agreed and you smiled.

"I hope you two know that I will be checking in all the time." you waved your finger and both of them laughed.

"Of course." Tina nodded and you took her to the office since she'd be taking your place while you're away. The rest of the day passed by fairly quickly, even with you staying longer as always. A zap of electricity ran through your body when you remembered someone was home, waiting for you and your undivided attention.

Changbin.

"Maxine, tell Tina I got all the reports ready for our new partners and if she needs anything she can call me any time. Same goes for you." you rushed out and she looked at you with her brows lifted.

"Of course. Have a good time on your vacay!" she said, chuckling because this was the first time you were leaving before her.

It was raining again when you ran into your building, forgetting to bring an umbrella so you used your bag as a shield from the water once more. The first thing you did after shucking your shoes off and throwing your bag aside was run to Changbin.

He was in the same position you left him, leaned on your headboard in your bed, tucked in with a blanket.

"Hey there." you smiled and grabbed his face, kissing his lips. You had missed him all day.

"We are going on a vacation." you nodded to him with a smile. You had to admit, you felt kinda excited to finally be away from work and your repetitive routine. You just wished Changbin would come to life and enjoy the break from every day stress with you.

The next day, everything was prepared, the bag you packed was in the trunk, the tank was filled up and most importantly Changbin was in the passenger seat, strapped in and ready. You were going to drive over to your old house, where your parents used to take you for vacation when you were a kid. It was a bit out of town, a little house close to the lake. It used to be different before, there were more things to do there but you heard that some rich guy bought off most of the people who lived there so he could own the land.

Your little house was away from that area, perfectly in the middle of nowhere. Just what you needed to get your mind off of work. You got into the car and put on your favorite playlist before you started driving.

The tall city buildings soon turned into seemingly never-ending fields. You felt better instantly upon seeing the nature all around you. The sun was beating down on your car and you decided to open up the windows and let the air in as you drove and sang. Your eyes kept flitting towards Changbin, his pretty face and the way the wind kept playing with his hair. He looked so soft and sweet in those moments, making your good mood become even better.

Maybe someone would call you crazy for taking your sex doll to a vacation with you but he was more than that. You had a feeling he would be.

You drove for hours, it was almost dark when you finally parked in front of the old house. It was a little worn out since no one came out here anymore, especially after your father died due to illness and your mother had moved back to her hometown, taking care of your grandma. You visited them whenever you could but you were always swamped with work, you barely had time for yourself.

You put your bag inside first but getting Changbin in was a challenge that you somehow managed to conquer with all the strength you gathered.

"Oh my god." you huffed when you finally placed him on the sofa. "Ugh." you scrunched up your nose, realizing you have to do some cleaning up before anything else.

You got to work, cleaning up the place as you listened to some music and danced around, making the annoying chore more fun. Changbin watched you from the couch, a shadow passing over his eyes before they sparkled just for a moment. Of course, you didn't see it being too into your performance.

After cleaning up and filling up the fridge with some groceries you brought in a portable one, you decided to take a shower and change.

"Binnie, are you hungry?" you asked your sweet dolly and you could swear his eyes moved for a moment.

You tilted your head and stared him for a while, finally deciding you just imagined it.

"I guess you are." you chuckled and moved to the kitchen to prepare some dinner.

It was weird spending the afternoon cooking and sipping on wine, listening to music without a care in the world, knowing you don't have to go into work tomorrow. Or bring work to your house. Which reminded you to call Tina.

"You barely even left and you're worried already?" she chuckled.

"Just making sure everything is okay."

"Of course! I got everything under control." she assured you but you still wanted a recap, the perfectionist inside you craving to know that everything was indeed going well.

"Are you having fun though?" she asked after the report and you looked around the sparkly clean house, your eyes then landing on Changbin.

"Definitely." you said.

"Well, take care boss. We need you refreshed once you come back!"

"Of course. Have a good day, Tina."

"You too!"

You hung up and sat down to eat, looking up at Changbin a few times. After your meal you made your way to the couch, you couldn't wait to cuddle up to him.

"Let's see if there's any signal here." you muttered, turning the tv on. Luckily, the signal was good, even better than it used to be before, surprising you a little. You shrugged it off and put your legs in Changbin's lap, your head on his chest. Your own personal teddy bear.

The heat of his body and the relaxed state you were in slowly brought warmness in your navel, spreading throughout you and dripping on your panties. You bit on your lip and nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin. Your hands started roaming his chest, the muscles you admired and liked so much. Your lips traveled on his skin and you stripped his shirt so you could continue leaving gentle kisses all over him. You unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down and then sliding them off of him with his underwear.

The sight of Changbin's cock all hard and leaking for you made you salivate, your heart beating hard against your chest. You wanted to taste him, feel the weight of him on your tongue so you kneeled down between his legs, sticking your tongue out and licking a stripe along his length.

"Oh." you were deliciously shocked when you realized he tasted sweet. It spurred you on to continue and you wrapped your lips around him, sucking on his tip and tasting more of his pre-cum. You struggled taking all of him in as you slid down, wrapping your hand around the base.

You knew Changbin probably wouldn't cum this way, since your dolly loved hearing his name moaned out before climaxing so you were doing this more for your own fun and enjoyment, revelling in the way he twitched inside your hot mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down for a while, making yourself gag a few times when you pushed in too far, your panties getting progressively more soaked. You released him with a pop and leaned back to look at him.

"Need you, Binnie." you whimpered before stripping and sitting on his lap. You wished he would reciprocate, you yearned to be touched by him. Closing your eyes, you adjusted and grabbed his length, slowly pushing it in and sitting down on him until he bottomed out inside you.

You wrapped your arms around Changbin so you could be as close to him as you can before you started moving on him slowly, feeling every inch of him filling you up and stretching your pussy perfectly.

"Binnie." you moaned out as you fucked on him slowly, feeling him twitch inside you immediately.

"Whoops." you giggled and sped up, chasing your high that has been building up ever since the moment you tasted him. The tip of Changbin's cock kept brushing against your spot every time you smacked your hips down, making you whimper and clench around him.

"Changbin!" with a loud whimper of his name you came all around him, making him finish inside you as you rode your high and held onto him, your sensitive nipples brushing against him deliciously.

"I'll be right back." you said as you stood up.

You cleaned yourself and your doll before getting dressed. You only had him for a few days but you already felt like you couldn't live without him. He was giving you some sort of comfort that you haven't felt in a long time.

"I wish you could go on a walk with me now." you sighed after calming down a little and drinking some water. It was dark out and you weren't really comfortable with walking around the lake and in the forest completely alone so you decided it would be smarter to do that in the morning.

That night you cuddled up with Changbin again, feeling happy that you brought him with you.

Early in the morning, you already had your coffee and quick breakfast before checking in on Tina and Maxine. You couldn't help it even though you knew that all your employees were more than capable, it was you who hired them after all.

"I'll be back soon, Binnie." you kissed your dolly, tucking him in with a blanket and leaving the tv on for him.

You walked the familiar path from your house to the lake, knowing it like the back of your hand. It almost stayed the same as it was, the only difference is that it seemed more quiet, abandoned. A few of the nearby houses were almost completely fallen apart, the wood ruined by the rain and the wind. It made you a little sad to see a place once so lively devoid of everything.

That's when you noticed something peculiar, right as you started on your way towards the forest. It was all too quiet. It seemed like there was no insect, bird or any kind of animal nearby. Usually, there were ducks in the lake, you remembered feeding them with your parents and you also remember running away screaming from all sorts of insects when you were a kid.

"Hm." you mused out loud as you continued walking. It felt a little eerie, the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Then you heard it, a humming sound. Your brows furrowed as you followed the sound cautiously.

You didn't expect to run into a huge fence built around a building you were sure wasn't there before, because there used to be multiple houses and a children's park there. You squinted your eyes, trying to see if there was someone there but all you saw were windows with bars on them and darkness on the inside.

Then you noticed a familiar logo on the side of the building.

"Where have I seen that?" you wondered out loud.

The humming stopped suddenly, making your eyes ring as you swallowed. Fear clawed up from your stomach to your throat and you turned on your heel, something inside you telling you to run.

You didn't stop running until you got to the house, bursting in loudly, closing and locking the door quickly. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest and your eyes landed on Changbin instantly.

Making your way to him fast, you crumbled into his arms. You tried to even out your breath and calm down, all the while asking yourself who bought all the land, why was there a fence, what was the humming sound, why was that logo familiar to you?

You decided to take a relaxing bath and make some yummy lunch to forget about the weirdness of your morning.

"Oh, Binnie I am so glad you're here. Without you I'd feel so lonely." you told your dolly while you cooked. His eyes moved until they were looking directly at you, his fingers twitching against the couch, but you didn't notice, concentrated on making the food.

You spent the rest of the day inside the house and cuddled up to Changbin again that night.

You slept well until your dreams were invaded by the humming sound from earlier and it seemed as if it was louder, closer, vibrating against your body. You were confused, still on the verge of sleep, eyes still closed as your body shook.

"W-what?" you croaked out, it was as if something was shaking you. Your eyes snapped open and you realized it was Changbin, he was... vibrating?

You reached for the lamp quickly, panic rushing through your veins when suddenly he took a desperate breath in, his head turning towards you.

You shrieked, backing away and falling off the bed.

"W-what the fuck?!" you backed away until you hit the wall.

"W-water. P-please." his voice sounded raspy and you gasped, standing up and staring at him. Was this supposed to happen? There was nothing about the dolls talking and needing water in the manual.

"Please." Changbin looked at you desperately and you nodded, running downstairs before coming back up with a water bottle.

"I'm sorry." he apologized as soon as he chugged the bottle down.

"F-for what?" you asked, standing on a distance.

"Scaring you. This humming noise. It makes me tickle on the inside. It itches, it woke me up." he explained.

"You can hear that?" you asked, coming a little closer to him.

"No, I can feel it." he said. "Don't be scared of me."

"I'm- I'm not, just confused." you let out a chuckle at the absurd situation. "The manual never said anything about you coming to life."

"The manual." Changbin scoffed.

"What?" you asked and he shook his head.

"I wish I could remember who made me and who wrote the manual." he answered as you sat on the bed.

"Do you remember anything?" you asked.

"My friends? They were with me before. I don't know where they are now, all I know is I miss them." he sighed.

"Are these your friends?" you asked as you pulled up the dolly site on your phone.

"Yes! That's them." Changbin leaned in to look at the pictures. "This one." he pointed to a doll named 'Chan'. "He was the first. He took care of us after something happened. I- I can't remember what happened, but I know it was painful."

"Ugh, the humming again!" Changbin jolted, hugging himself.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We can leave right away if it's bothering you this much, don't worry." you placed your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"Really?" he looked at you with sweet pitiful eyes, making your heart melt.

"Of course." you nodded and stood up, grabbing your bag and packing up immediately.

"You took all of this with a very calm attitude." Changbin scratched his head.

"I'm used to crisis, it happens at work." you said, packing up quickly. "I wouldn't be where I am if I let my emotions interfere in situations like this."

"That's what I admire, you're so dedicated to your work." Changbin said, slowly standing up, his legs wobbling a little. You paused your movements and looked up at him.

"You were aware of everything happening since you came to me?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly.

"Oh." you gulped, your face warming up. Now, that was a situation that threw you off just a little.

"I, um, I'm hungry." Changbin said and you chuckled.

"There's food downstairs, you can heat it up and eat all of it while I get everything ready for us to leave."

"Thank you." he smiled.

"No need." you answered, still feeling a little embarrassed about the fact that he was aware of everything you did to him during the last few days.

You managed to grab all your things and pack them up, turning off everything right as Changbin finished eating.

"Let's go." you said and he stopped you before you opened the door.

"Are you sure it's safe to go out? It's the middle of the night." he noted.

"I think we'd be safer in the car than staying in here?" you said and he sighed.

"Okay then, let's leave."

As soon as you walked out, you could hear the humming noise more clearly as if it had gotten louder during the night.

"I can't take it." Changbin started scratching at his body again.

"Get in the car quickly."

Luckily, you had enough gas to last to the first gas station so you buckled up and hit the pedal, getting the hell away from that creepy place.

Changbin felt better the more distance you put between the car and the lake.

A few days later, since you were still on your vacation, you were enjoying getting to know Changbin.

It was as if he was human and lived an entire life, even though he couldn't remember it at all. He could only put together bits and pieces, talking mostly about his friends and some disaster that happened, an awful feeling filling him up as he tried to remember more of it. All he could think of was Chan who tried to protect him and the other dolls. They were all alive then.

"Do you think they came to life too?" you asked that afternoon as the two of you cuddled, some movie playing in the background but you weren't paying attention to it.

"I would hope so. I wish we could find them." he sighed.

"Maybe we can. I could pull some connections."

"Really? You'd do that?" he smiled instantly, sitting up excitedly.

"Of course. Look, you probably heard me..." you grimaced but continued. "When I said I'm happy to have you, I was really lonely before and I was actually hoping you'd come to life."

"Does that mean I'm your boyfriend now?" Changbin giggled and you melted on the spot.

"Yes." you nodded and he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal and chuckle.

You were sure he was made just for you.

Making your way from a refreshing shower, you didn't expect to be pinned to the wall by Changbin as soon as you walked into your room.

"B-Binnie!" you eyes widened, a zap of electricity running through your body instantly, making you feel aroused in the matter of milliseconds.

"I've wanted to do this from the moment I saw you." he said lowly, making you gulp as you stared into his darkened eyes. He was silently asking for your permission and you nodded ever so slightly, your heartbeart speeding up.

Changbin's lips quirked up in that cute smirk you adored on him, his hands sliding down your arms to the towel wrapped around your body. He undid the knot and let it fall to the floor, his eyes raking all over your exposed body.

You felt like your breath got caught in your throat when Changbin leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Time stopped for a moment before he brought you back to earth with his hands on your chest, squeezing your breasts as he started moving his lips against yours. You parted your lips to let him in, he was sweet and hot at the same time, making your body yearn for his so you arched into him.

Smirking against your lips, Changbin let his hands travel lower, until they touched your thighs. You shivered as he kept kissing you, his fingertips ghosting on your inner thigh. Your moans were muffled against his lips and he kissed you harder before leaning back, letting his hand rest between your thighs as he touched your pussy.

"So wet for me." he smirked.

"B-Binnie, please." you whimpered.

"Please what, honey?" he kept smirking as you whined.

"I need to feel you." you whispered, your cheeks heating up.

"I need to feel you too." he couldn't really tease you for too long, the more he slid his fingers against your pussy, bringing the wetness up to your clit, the more it made him twitch in his pants.

You were overpowered by want and your hands flew to his shirt. It didn't take long for him to be as naked as you were. He was already hard and dripping, eager to bring you pleasure.

Changbin's arms gripped at the back of your thighs. "Jump." he smirked and you gasped, jumping up while he helped you, wrapping your legs around him. The tip of his cock rubbed against you, making you clench.

"H-here?" you whispered and he smiled.

"Why not?" Changbin whispered back and you held onto him tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips grazing at his upper back.

"Okay." you whined as he pressed into you, his tip slipping between your folds.

"Mm, so good." he groaned, pushing in and you welcomed him, shaping around him perfectly as he bottomed out.

"Binnie." you moaned out, your nails digging into his skin.

"D-don't say my name yet." he gripped at your hips and you bit on your lip, trying to hold in your desperation. Changbin slowly started to move, his cock spreading your pussy apart deliciously.

"A-ah!" you whimpered as his tip brushed against your spot with each languid thrust. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss as you held onto him, trying to bring your hips closer to him.

"M-more." you whined.

"More?" he breathed out, his voice shaky. He was holding back.

"Please Binnie, fuck me harder, please!" you begged desperately, your pussy clenching around him and making him inhale sharply.

"As you wish, honey." he smirked a little before all hell broke loose when his hips started snapping into yours with vigor. He knocked the breath out of your lungs as you scratched at his skin, your entire body shaking from the force he fucked you with.

You couldn't help it, you were moaning so loudly, not even caring if your neighbors could hear you as Changbin kept fucking into you hard, the tip of his cock brushing against your spot every time he pushed in deep. You held onto him for dear life, you couldn't even feel your legs in that moment.

His little desperate moans filled up your ears, making you even more wet than before, adding to the high that was building up inside you.

"Are you gonna cum, honey?" he gripped your ass hard as he kept fucking you.

"Y-yes, gonna cum for you, Binnie!" you felt him twitch inside you and that was all you needed before you exploded, squirting on him and making him whine. His name kept spilling from your lips and his hips stuttered as he came, exploding inside you and filling you up.

"Wow." he breathed as he finally released you and you shook, holding onto him. Changbin lifted you up in his strong arms and placed your shivering body on the bed.

"I'll be right back, honey." he said and you nodded, still speechless.

Changbin came back to clean you up, bringing you a bottle of water.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked as you were silent.

"No, no, you were perfect Binnie." you smiled, reaching out to touch his face. "So good, that I'm just ready to sleep now." you added and he chuckled, puffing his chest out with pride.

You rolled your eyes playfully as your head hit the pillow and Changbin tucked you in much like you did to him, before he laid down next to you.

"Hey, y/n?" he whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Binnie?"

"I love you." he said and your heart skipped a beat. It was unbelieveable how quickly you came to love him too.

"I love you." you whispered back, kissing him before the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Your days with Changbin were passing by like a breeze, and pretty soon you were already back to work. All your employees noted that you're glowing and that you've never looked happier, thinking it was the break that did that when in fact it was love.

Changbin had also managed to pull you out of the house more, the two of you going to the gym and enjoying active dates and you couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun with someone, let alone a boyfriend. It's like he knew exactly what you needed, sometimes even before you knew it.

He loved watching you cook, a lovesick look in his eyes as he propped his face up on his palm and just observed you.

"It'd be nice if you helped." you smirked, breaking him out of his trance.

"Yes, in a moment." he smiled then, grabbing your hand and stopping whatever you were doing as he gently pulled it towards him, pressing his lips on the top of your hand. You chuckled, goosebumps littering your skin as he stood up. Changbin stood behind you, enveloping his arms around you, his hands covering yours.

"This is not helping." you giggled when his breath tickled your neck.

"No?" he smirked, pressing himself into you.

You knew you weren't going to cook that dinner any time soon.

You felt lucky to have him, but there was one problem. You had tried getting some information through your workplace, about all the other dolls but whoever had sent them to the buyers, erased every trace of where the dolls have been sent. You couldn't track any of them and Changbin couldn't remember anything, no matter how hard he tried.

You kept thinking about the lake house, the humming noise and the weird building, the eerie quietness of the entire forest. It made the hair on the back of you neck stand, shivers running down your spine.

You tried researching it on the internet but came up with nothing.

Then one day, there was a call.

"Hello?" you answered with an unsure voice, the unknown number throwing you off. Especially because the call was on your private phone and not many people had that number. If it was business or anything of that sort they'd call you on your work cell.

Changbin looked up from the clothes he was folding and you shrugged.

"Is this miss L/n?" a monotone male voice asked.

"Yes, this is she." you answered.

"I understand you have Changbin dolly."

"Ugh. Yes." you looked at Changbin with a frown, and he came closer to listen.

"Well, we're sorry to inform you but the dolls have all malfunctioned and will need to be taken back. The money will be returned." you wondered how they knew the doll was gifted to you and how they had your number.

"What do you mean by 'malfunctioned'?" you asked suspiciously as Changbin eyed you nervously.

"We cannot discuss such matters unless you are part of the staff." the monotone voice answered.

"The staff?" your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Please, don't defy our command. We will come pick up the doll. Goodbye."

Click.

"Hello?" you stood there confused as Changbin's eyes filled with fear.

"I- I don't wanna go back there!" he panicked suddenly, grabbing at you.

"Hey, it's okay! We will find a way for you to stay. I don't want them to take you away either." you pulled Changbin into a hug and he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you a little.

"I feel this fear inside me, I don't know why. That voice-"

"Do you recognize it?" you asked and Changbin nodded.

"I do. But I can't remember who it is. There is like... different faces in my head all coming up at the same time." he pursed his lips in thought.

"Okay, we could drive up to my mother and grandma tomorrow?" you suggested.

"How are you going to explain me to them?"

"I'll just say you're my boyfriend, none of the doll talk, okay? We met at a gym or something." you said and Changbin chuckled, caressing your face.

"How convenient." he joked.

"Hey, it's believeable!" you defended and he giggled.

"Fine, fine, it is." he agreed as the cogs inside your brain already started turning.

You had to plan out how to avoid work because you haven't told your coworkers anything about the doll they gifted you coming to life.

You just hoped you could get Changbin safely out of here.

Early in the morning you were already packing together with Changbin but a ring on your doorbell stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Who's here at 6:30am?" you frowned, walking towards the door.

After opening it and unlocking the door, Changbin trailing behind you, you gasped in shock. There were six men in suits standing on your doorway.

"We came to collect the doll." one of them said.

"You can't!" you yelled.

"Why?" the man asked.

"He is alive, he has free will and he doesn't want to go with you! Now leave, before I sue your entire company!" you tried threatening them but they just exchanged silent looks.

"Step aside. We are going to collect the doll."

"Over my dead body." you got angry but Changbin quickly interfered.

"Y/n, please be careful." he begged as the men stepped inside and you launched your body aside, grabbing the baseball bat you kept near the door.

Changbin gasped as they grabbed him, no matter how strong he was they somehow seemed stronger. He looked up and saw you swinging the bat at one of them men, his eyes wide.

The bat collided with one of the suited men's face, fear rushing through your veins when a piece of his skin came flying off, revealing wires beneath the facade of a human face.

You shrieked, stepping back and the man looked at you before pulling out a huge syringe and walking towards Changbin.

"Stop it! No!" you screamed but the other men grabbed you, throwing the bat aside and holding you back as you thrashed around, trying to escape their hold.

The syringe was plunged into Changbin's neck and he immediately slumped down. You kept yelling at them but they dragged him away, slamming your own door in your face.

You had no idea what to do in that moment. Your body slid down on the floor as you sobbed. They took away Changbin from you, the man who loves you. Anger bubbled up inside you and then you remembered.

Property of BIMT.

You scrambled to stand up and ran to your laptop, quickly typing it in.

"The logo!" you gasped, remembering the building near the house lake. You knew the exact location they'd take Changbin.

"Bang Institute of Modern Technology? Ugh, as in Helena Bang the famous scientist?" you clicked on the page.

You skimmed through the article, finding out that Helena had died five years ago from a mysterious illness, all her research and work falling into the hands of a rich man whose name was doctor Park.

"I'm coming to get you Binnie, don't you worry."

In his room, Felix heard commotion outside of the door. He rushed to it, his palms pressed against the cold metal as he peeped through the slit.

A few of the suited men were carrying Changbin towards another room, opposite of Felix's.

"Changbin! Changbin, can you hear me?!" Felix yelled desperately and one of them turned towards the sound, lifting his fist and pounding loudly against Felix's door, scaring him.

"Be quiet, number six!" the man yelled. Felix backed away with tears gathering in his eyes.

What will they do to them now?

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