#I've maybe had an adult drink

[suddencolds]

~

[roosterforme]

Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation

Length: 8600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"I need to move."

Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout. 

"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"

For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."

"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.

You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"

"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"

"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"

Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."

You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."

"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."

Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."

You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."

Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.

"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."

You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."

Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.

------------------------

You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.

He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.

"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.

You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time. 

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."

But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.

Fuck.

It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"

His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."

His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."

--------------------------

You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?

But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.

He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was. 

You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."

He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge." 

When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.

You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"

"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"

You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."

He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."

With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."

"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked. 

"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.

"My treat."

"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."

"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.

"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."

He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."

Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."

Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."

You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth. 

He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.

"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."

"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"

He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.

You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"

Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?" 

"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."

You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"

Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."

"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."

Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."

He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"

"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.

-------------------------

You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.

You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."

"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza. 

"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking." 

He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"

Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."

You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"

"What?" 

You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."

He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar." 

"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."

He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"

You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"

Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"

"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."

Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"

"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."

A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."

"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep. 

----------------------

Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.

He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.

You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way. 

When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"M'kay." 

Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side. 

Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"

He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."

You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.

"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him. 

The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him. 

After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 

"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."

He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."

Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."

With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.

----------------------------

Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home. 

The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you. 

So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there. 

You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.

"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.

"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"

"Right now?" he asked immediately.

You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."

"I'll be there soon."

He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.

"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"

"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."

"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."

Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."

That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.

Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"

"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"

"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"

You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."

You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."

He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."

Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers. 

"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."

"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.

"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room. 

"I don't really want to do that."

You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"

He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.

"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."

------------------------

You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar. 

"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.

"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."

Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."

Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."

Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him. 

"I think you should quit," he told you blandly. 

"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."

You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"

He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.

"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"

You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too. 

You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.

Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.

If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar. 

"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started. 

"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."

Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."

That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.

The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them. 

Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped. 

Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process. 

"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."

"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit. 

"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."

You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again. 

"Not those ones."

You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"

His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him. 

Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."

"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."

He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet. 

"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."

"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding." 

He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips. 

Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case. 

But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.

His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him. 

Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life. 

Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered. 

"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.

He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot. 

"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers. 

"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone. 

Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms. 

"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.

"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."

Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.

Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."

"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."

You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."

"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache. 

"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."

"Why?" he demanded again. 

Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."

"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body. 

You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."

Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."

His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."

"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response. 

"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.

He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."

"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.

"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."

"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."

----------------------------

You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.

"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk. 

"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.

"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."

"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."

"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.

You moaned. "I owe him so much."

Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."

"What conclusion would that be?"

"That you're in love with me."

You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."

Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."

That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love. 

"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."

"Just for that, you get a remix too."

---------------------------

I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[loganlermanstanaccount]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

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

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

Gabriel: I see that you're alone.

MC: ...

MC: Congrats. You have eyes.

Gabriel: *immediately shows displeasure*

MC: Chill. You've just arrived.

Gabriel: A foolish human pretending to be god. I don't know how you managed to convince Raphael, but that's not important right now.

Gabriel: I will punish you myself.

MC: Would that be a wise decision? Let me remind you.

MC: I had you incapacitated for months. And I will do that again.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *smiles* You didn’t think I came here alone, did you?

*Other angels showed up.*

Gabriel: You made a grave mistake of sending those devils away.

MC: Maybe? Maybe not.

MC: I just don't like getting bothered.

Gabriel: *has sensed something is wrong*

MC: *smirks*

MC: I was expecting you, Gabriel.

Gabriel: *magic circles started to appear around him*

MC: These angels are under your control. So let me borrow your authority for a moment.

MC: ...

MC: Die.

*The angels, in an act of self-destruction, snapped their own necks, resulting in everyone falling from the sky.*

Gabriel: How dare you...

MC: *nods in satisfaction* Not bad.

MC: I should thank Gusion for helping me with the calculations.

Gabriel: *tries to break free*

MC: Give up. It'll be useless.

Gabriel: AAHHH!

MC: *rolls their eyes*

MC: You're telling me you can't lock up this guy?

Belphegor: We were not expecting you'd catch him.

MC: Okay. Can't you make him sleep for eternity then?

Belphegor: Too bothersome.

MC: You're fucking useless.

Gabriel: I will kill you in the worst way possible...

MC: Shut the fuck up.

Beleth: ...

Beleth: Descendant of Solomon, won't it be possible to do the same thing to him?

MC: 'That'?

MC: ...

MC: I've already got one psycho. You want me to make them two?

Beleth: Would that be a problem?

MC: You're really trying your luck.

Beleth: *chuckles*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Make him drink the blood.

Beleth: *nods then approaches Gabriel*

Gabriel: What are you going to do?!

Beleth: You'll see.

MC: ...

Gabriel: *is on the floor, writhing in pleasure*

MC: ...

MC: Ew.

Beleth: *who is surprised too* Was Raphael like this when he drank your blood?

MC: Nope.

Gabriel: God... You've returned...

MC: ...

MC: I got myself another burden.

Andrealphus: I'll kill him for you.

MC: Calm down. As much as I hate this, I have to take this bastard to Gehenna.

Belphegor: Huh. How are you going to do that?

MC: *frowns*

Beleth: Don't do them like that, Your Majesty.

Karelphus: MC? You're leaving?

MC: Yeah.

Karelphus: I'll go with you!

MC: ...

MC: No. You stay here.

Karelphus: Why? I can be useful too...

MC: I know. But Niflheim needs more "responsible" devils.

MC: If only your king is not a deadbeat.

Belphegor: *chuckles*

Karelphus: ...

Karelphus: Once I become an adult, I'll follow you!

MC: Yeah, yeah. Sure.

Karelphus: *cheers up*

Gabriel: *still moaning in pleasure*

MC and the others: ...

MC: Beleth, you have a stapler?

Barbatos: This time it's Seraph Gabriel?

Foras: *nods* *displeased* And he seemed to enjoy it.

Glasyalabolas: This is bad.

Glasyalabolas: Looks like them being god could be true.

[shewhowas39]

a quick note on elven maturity

all right. time for another lore dump, brought to you by a big DnD fangirl.

so i see a lot of conversation around Astarion's age at the time of being turned (39 years old) and how, in DnD, that would make him a "child." this comes from rules and lore that state that elves can live to be about 750 years old (or older) and are considered adults at 100 years old. and i can absolutely see why that is confusing, but let me break it down a bit.

Elves reach physical maturity at the same age as humans, but after that point, their aging slows down tremendously. a 39 year old elf may be "considered a child" but has the physical maturity of a human in their 20s and mental maturity of a 39 year old human.

so let's talk about that "considered a child" business. this might be cleared up by adding the caveat "by other elves" at the end.

the distinction of "childhood" is cultural. because elves live so long, they see those under the age of 100 as youthful. think about it: if you had seen five hundred years of shit, you'd think an 80 year old was a sweet summer child, too. hell, i'm in my 30s and sometimes it's hard not to look at people in their early 20s as "kids" because we're just in such different places in our lives, even though they are legally adults.

even in the real world, maturity and adulthood are seen differently across cultures. different countries have different drinking ages, different ages for driving cars, different ages of consent. those standards may seem odd to an outsider, used to their own cultural norms, but every community is different.

elves don't just see other elves under age 100 as children. they see other races this way as well. high elves tend to view humans as immature - even in their old age - because 80 years to them is nothing.

i was a legal adult at 18, but 18 year old me didn't know half the shit 33 year old me does. and i'm sure 45 year old me will think 33 year old me was "young" by comparison.

now, i've seen some takes that Astarion might be lying about being a magistrate because he was "a child" and why would they make a child a magistrate? that argument might hold up in an elven dominated city, but Baldur's Gate is mostly human. by human standards, Astarion had the same mental capacity as any other 39 year old man.

Astarion, at age 39, may have been seen as a "child" by other high elves, but this isn't literal. it merely means he had yet to reach a major cultural milestone of a very, very long lived race. a milestone even the most elderly of humans likely will never reach.

would you call an 80 year old human a child? no. but a high elf very well might see them that way. not in the physical sense, but in a "oh to be young and naive and know less of the world than I do" sense. the way that we all inevitably look at those a decade younger than us, even though they are adults, and see their youth in comparison to our own.

it's 5am here and i'm babbling. the point is, the "child" bit of elven lore in DnD is confusing, i get it. but it's purely cultural. in Baldur's Gate, a city primarily run by humans, Astarion was not seen as a child by most. he was a grown man. he had the mental maturity of a 39 year old man. the only people who would have seen him as a child are other, older high elves (mostly those who grew up in a place like Evermeet) and maybe elders of other races - even humans - who were like "oh, to be 39 again!" (lol, me the day i turn 40 probably.)

tl;dr elves in dnd are not LITERALLY children until they turn 100. it's an elven culture thing, similar to how in real life different cultures have different standards for things like driving, drinking, joining the army, and age of consent.

[reiderwriter]

The One Thing You Can't Have

Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)

Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.

Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception

A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!

With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.

When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.

You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.

"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.

The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.

"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.

He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.

The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.

"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.

"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.

"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.

You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.

After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.

Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.

There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.

After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.

He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.

It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.

He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.

You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.

“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.

It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.

You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.

“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.

He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.

Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.

To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.

“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.

“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.

“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.

“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.

“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”

“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.

Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.

Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.

So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.

Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.

So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.

“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.

“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.

“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.

“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.

“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”

“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”

“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.

Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.

“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.

He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.

“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”

And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.

You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.

It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.

He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.

When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.

You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.

The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.

You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.

"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.

Derek was going to give him hell.

"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."

"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.

"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.

His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.

He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.

He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.

It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.

The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.

Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.

Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.

The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.

The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.

"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.

"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.

"Y/N, how drunk are you?"

"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.

"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.

"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"

"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.

"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.

"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."

"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.

"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.

He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.

And he had a third pair of your underwear.

He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.

He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.

Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.

It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.

In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.

The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.

You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.

They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.

"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.

You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.

"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.

Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.

"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."

"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.

You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.

"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.

Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.

Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.

He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.

You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.

You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.

"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."

"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.

By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.

Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.

Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.

Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.

You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.

This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.

Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.

You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.

He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.

But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.

Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.

You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.

Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.

The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.

With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.

Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.

His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.

He was screwed.

"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.

Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.

"What did I miss?"

"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."

"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.

"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.

"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.

But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.

But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.

He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.

"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.

You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.

He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.

"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.

"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."

"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.

"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.

For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.

"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.

“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.

“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”

You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.

Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.

When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.

“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.

“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”

“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”

The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.

“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.

He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.

Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.

“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.

“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.

“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.

“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.

“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.

“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”

“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”

“Was that a threat, Spencer?”

“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”

“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”

“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.

Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.

When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.

“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”

“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.

“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”

You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.

“Peace offering?”

He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.

“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”

He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.

Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.

“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”

“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.

“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”

“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.

His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.

Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.

You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.

You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.

“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.

“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.

When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up

You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.

“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.

You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.

You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.

“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.

“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.

You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.

“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”

You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.

Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.

Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.

“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.

“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.

There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.

“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.

“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.

“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.

“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.

“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.

“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.

“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”

“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.

“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.

“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”

“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”

“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.

“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”

“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.

“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.

You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.

“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.

“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”

“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.

“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.

“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.

“What?”

“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.

“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.

“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Spencer! What are you doing?”

“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”

“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.

“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.

[sxcret-garden]

Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion. 

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile. 

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips. 

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass. 

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part. 

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?” 

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to. 

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin. 

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently. 

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can. 

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more. 

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is. 

You also keep meeting up to have sex. 

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. ��Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom. 

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge. 

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.” 

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours. 

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know. 

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?” 

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you. 

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.” 

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out. 

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7. 

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready. 

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone. 

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again. 

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes��� don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks. 

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight. 

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it. 

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you. 

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning. 

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now. 

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there. 

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly. 

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off. 

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips. 

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead. 

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time. 

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #02

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬��𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

"What?" you breathe out, shaking your head as if to make sure you've heard him correctly. "Pretend to be your girlfriend? Are you kidding?"

But he doesn't look as if he's kidding. He's looking at you with hopeless eyes, or maybe it's just an alcohol in his system that makes him look like a lost puppy.

"No," he gulps, slowly shaking his head. "If Kiko sees me with another woman, maybe she'll want me back. She told me she loves me. Maybe she'll want me back once she sees me with someone else."

"You realize how ridiculous and stupid that idea is? You're an adult, Jungkook. That's just stupid." you tell him, feeling yourself getting tired but you don't allow yourself to close your eyes. You'd doze off right away.

"I know, it's pathetic. But it's the only idea and a hope I have left."

"Kook, that's not healthy. What if she doesn't care?" you ask him carefully, eyeing his slumped figure.

"Then I'll have to move on." he answers, dryly gulping as if he's repulsed by that idea.

"I don't know, Kook. I don't think it's a good idea. You're not some teenager who needs to prove something to her. If she let you go, then it's on her. She was stupid enough to do that."

And he stays quiet, leaning his back against the headrest as he allows his eyes to rest. Without thinking anything further, you do the same thing. There's a comfortable silence in the room and for a moment, you think he's asleep. But before you can allow yourself to drift next to him on his couch, his raspy yet soft voice booms between the walls.

"Did you really bring me banana milk?"

A wide smile spreads on your lips as you nod, before you realize he can't see you. "Yes." you answer him, not moving an inch knowing he's going to beg in a second.

"Can you give it to me?" he asks quietly, almost as if ashamed that what he really asks for right now is a stupid banana milk.

"I thought you're not a fucking kid." you quote his words while teasing him. You knew he couldn't resist.

"Y/N," he growls, not pleased by your teasing but you're already standing up and turning the lamp on before you go to rummage through your bag, until two small bottles of banana milk are in your hands.

You can barely hand it to him before he's already grabbing the bottles, placing them into his lap as he opens one of them. He happily drinks it, smacking his lips once he gets the first taste. You can't help but snort at the sight in front of you.

"I've missed you." he blurts out, eyes widening as he waits for your reaction. He hastily looks at you, noticing your amused gaze before you smile at him.

"I've missed you too." you admit, knowing how genuine your words are.

Jungkook seems to be relieved that you've missed him too, which makes him feel even worse for acting like an asshole earlier today. It was embarrassing enough that Jimin and Taehyung had to see him in that kind of state – depressed and distant.

"I'm sorry for acting like an asshole earlier," he admits, "And I'm glad Jimin called you. God, those two are awful at making people feel better."

You can't help but laugh at that, remembering their distressed faces and Taehyung's desperate need to pour alcohol into depressed Jungkook. If the situation wasn't so serious, you'd laugh straight away then.

"Nah, it's okay. We all have our bad days and your reason was quite valid. Remember when I threw a remote at you? I don't think you were worse today."

"How can I forget? You got your period and I made a single joke thinking you'll find it funny. Who knew you'd throw a remote at me."

You can't remember what the joke was, but you were so annoyed with him that you grabbed the first thing and threw it at him – which happened to be your TV remote. It was back in the day when you both spent almost every day together. It's really been awhile since the two of you just sat and talked. And it seems like Jungkook thinks the same thing.

"Fuck, I feel like the worst best friend." he speaks up, throwing his head back before he shakes off his bangs out of his eyes.

"You were in a relationship, Jungkook. It was bound to happen." you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. Some part of you wished you'd hang out together all the time, like the old times. But it was impossible. And selfish of you to even wish that.

"Yeah, but when you were dating Haechan, we still used to hang out together more often. I completely blew you off."

Haechan. 

Your first boyfriend of five months, someone you've lost your virginity to. He was a sweet guy that made your heart flutter, and your naive young you thought he's the one. But he wasn't. Just because he made your heart flutter, it didn't mean much. Two months after you guys slept together, you both broke up with each other. It was mutual and the two of you remained friends. Not close though. You don't text each other or anything like that, but you still check out his Instagram profile just from pure curiosity. You'll always share something together, even though it wasn't anything romantic – at least not the way you've always imagined.

Maybe that's why it was easy to spend your free time with Jungkook as well. Rather than being with your boyfriend, you spend your time with your best friend. Even the sex was completely unadventurous and it felt like something you did just to release your sexual frustration.

"What if he agreed to break up with me because I didn't satisfy him enough?" you ask with widened eyes, thinking about all the times you had sex with him. It wasn't that many, but still.

"Oh, come on. That's not true." Jungkook snickers.

"You don't know that!" you frown, deeply in thought. "I've never had anyone else before him and our sex was boring. I wanted to spice it up but he'd just straight up say 'no'."

"From what I'm hearing, it looks like he was the one who wasn't satisfying you enough," he raises his brow, causing you to pucker your lips in thought. "No woman should ever feel like sex with her partner is boring. It's about communication."

You kind of hate how right his words are. He makes it sound so easy, but even though your relationship with Haechan ended after a few months, it wasn't just about sex.

"Sex wasn't the most important thing in our relationship, Kook. There were other factors that caused our break up. For example, our feelings."

"It might not be the most important thing, but it's important. All those things like sex, communication and feelings are a part of a great functioning relationship."

He's right. Maybe that's why your relationship with Haechan didn't work. It lacked all of those things, maybe not entirely but still enough for you to know that it'd never work out. You wanted it though, so much. There were days when you thought he's the one. But you were young and naive, you know that now.

"Look at me," Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head at himself. "Talking like some professional when my own relationship got fucked up."

There are no right words that you could possibly say to him. No matter what reason Kiko had to break up with him, you're sure it's not Jungkook's fault. He gave her everything, all of himself. If you think about it in a poetic way, he handed his own heart to her, gifting it to her and she took it and broke it.

"Maybe our sex wasn't great, but at least I got someone to have sex with. Maybe I should find someone." you ignore his previous words, knowing talking about it would hurt him even more.

"Like a boyfriend?" he asks, taking a sip of his banana milk as he stares at you in surprise.

"Well, I meant like a fuck buddy, y'know..." you trail off.

You haven't talked about this with anyone and it's just something that recently occurred to you. You're not that type to even think something like that. But you're twenty-two and even though you haven't met anyone interesting, you could still spice up your sex life. You're a woman with desires and urges. There is so little you can do all by yourself.

"What?" he mutters, looking confused as hell. "But you always wanted--I'm sorry I'm just shocked. I never thought you'd ever think about having a fuck buddy."

You can't be surprised by the confusion that's laced in his voice and visible on his face. You've always talked about how you want to have a normal relationship. You're pretty sure you've mentioned, that one time when you both got drunk, you can't imagine having a fuck buddy.

"I know," you mutter before frowning. "But for fuck sake, Kook. I'm twenty-two with almost no sex experiences. I'm really grateful for my relationship with Haechan, but even though the sex was boring, it was still some kind of experience. You know what I mean?"

From desperation to faint mumble, you lick your lips as you keep frowning at empty beer bottles.

Being open with Jungkook is no shock, he's probably the only person you can talk to about everything and he won't judge you. It's easy to talk to him. Yet, you know you're being this honest saying out your thoughts, with the small help of alcohol. As much as you wanted to distract him, you've never planned to talk to him about your sex life.

"I can help." he speaks up, eyes staring at the television screen.

Your head snaps towards him, mouth opening as you stare at your best friend and pure shock. Did you hear him right? "Help? How?"

He visibly gulps, slowly turning his head to you. "With your sex experiences. I can help you."

Is he for real?

"Y-you want to help me, do you mean like us having sex?"

You can hear your heart beating in your ear drums, echoing loudly as you keep staring at the man in front of you. He's joking. He must be. Oh god, if you misread the situation you're going to bury yourself and never come out.

"Yeah," he says slowly, dragging that one single word out of his mouth. "Well, we don't have to have sex. There are other ways we could try to help with your sex life."

There are no words coming out of your mouth. Your whole body freezes as you let his words echo in your head for quite some time. Jungkook, your best friend, just proposed to help you with your secret desires. That sounds insane. What the hell goes through his head? You've got an idea.

"Do you think I'm that desperate?" you frown, meeting his widened gaze. "I won't use you just for my stupid desires. What about you, huh? You're in love with Kiko. Wouldn't that be weird? We're best friends."

He's not overwhelmed by your outburst, noting your every question that spilled out of your mouth in a flashlight.

"No, I don't think you're desperate. I was the one who proposed it. And yes, I'm in love with Kiko but, we're not in a relationship and I'm a man with needs. Do you think me beating my meat every time I'm in a shower is somehow pleasurable? Nope."

"Okay, too much information," you scrunch your nose at the mention of his masturbating and talking about it so casually. You wouldn't be so against it, if it weren't for the current situation and the image of the two of you having sex. "You didn't answer the best friend part."

"What's there to answer? We're best friends and if we both agree that's what we want, I don't see a problem here. But of course, it was just an idea. We don't have to do anything, if you're uncomfortable with this. I'm sorry if I made things weird right now, it wasn't my intention."

You see regret flash inside of his eyes, looking away for a moment before his soft brown eyes are set on you again. The weird thing is, that you don't feel uncomfortable nor weird at his proposed idea. It's unusual, yes, but your friendship with him was always super close. You used to sleep in the same bed and there were times when he was showering, while you were brushing your teeth. Of course, you haven't seen him naked during those times, even though there is one time he accidentally flashed you with his dick. Maybe this is just another way to cope with his feelings.

"But-- do you even find me attractive?"

Kiko is taller, slimmer yet with wide hips and perky ass. A woman who takes care of herself, yet she still looks naturally beautiful. And then there's you. You don't think of yourself as being ugly. But when you think about all those times Jungkook saw you in your natural habitat. Wasted, mascara running down your cheeks, every morning you woke up with frizzy hair and puffy eyes – there are so many times when he probably thought you looked like a mess. You never cared but for some reason, you feel embarrassed remembering all those times.

"Of course," he blurts out, "You're beautiful."

Your heart flutters, smiling at your best friend as you look down for a moment. "Is this your way of getting me into bed?" you ask him with a puzzled look, seeing the way his eyebrows shoot up before he frowns.

"Of course not. I'm not desperate," he uses your own words against you, looking offended by your question.

But, he's still the one who proposed that idea and you tell him that.

"Maybe I did, but please know that I'm not trying to get you into bed. I would never do that, I would never use you. You're important to me, you know that, right?" he says, his voice turning soft as he pleads with you with his eyes. He needs you to hear it.

And you feel like an asshole assuming such a thing. It was just the first thought you got.

"I know," you whisper, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe we can help each other, with no hard feelings. We've got only each other."

There are friends like Taehyung and Jimin, who are incredible people that you're lucky to call your friends. But your friendship with Jungkook is special.

"What do you mean?" you poke the inside of your cheek with an intrigued gaze.

Jungkook is handsome, you'd lie if you thought otherwise. He's hot and there are times when he gets you flustered, but you've never seen him anything more. He's your best friend after all, that's where you draw the line. You can't imagine something more happening between you two.

"I'll help you with your sexual desires and you'll pretend to be my girlfriend."

"Jungkook--"

"Just for a month!" he quickly insists, causing you to sigh.

"But aren't you still getting more? You get to fuck me and have me to pretend to be your girlfriend."

It's not fair.

"No, I don't have to fuck you if you don't want me to. I can help you explore everything you failed to do with Haechan, it's totally up to you. We could see where it brings us." he explains.

It's not like you doubt him, you know that he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Jungkook is the most selfless person you know.

"Are you sure this is what you want? Won't it ruin our friendship?" You can't help but ask. It's probably the most valuable reason why you're so unsure about all of this. If there's a chance it'll ruin your friendship with him, you won't do it.

You can't lose him.

"Doesn't best friends who get to fuck each other end up badly? I don't want our friendship to be ruined. What if one of us catches feelings? You never know..." you mumble, feeling him shift as he scoots closer to you.

He cups your face in a gentle manner, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. "I love you," he tells you, "As a best friend and that won't ever change."

He's staring between your eyes, eyeing you in a silent question causing you to smile at him.

"I love you too, Kook. But I don't think I can fall in love with you, I can't imagine it. You're just... my best friend. It feels right that way." you assure him honestly, seeing him to give you the slightest smile.

"Good," he nods, "But we don't have to do this."

You can see the honesty that glimmers in his eyes, but there's still that hurt hidden behind it. Hurt that Kiro caused. You don't agree with Jungkook's plan of trying to win her back, but if you're going to help him and you've nothing to lose – what's wrong with that?

"I guess I'm just scared that after some time it'll feel like we're using each other." you murmur, dropping your gaze before he gently tucks his finger under your chin as he lifts your head up.

"If you ever feel that way, tell me and we're going to end it. I don't want to hurt you."

Smiling, you nod along his words. "Okay," you murmur, "I guess you're right. It doesn't have to be weird if we're comfortable with this and with each other as well."

He nods, agreeing with you.

"You're right," he licks his bottom lip before saying;

"It's mutual help."

[weird-an]

"For fuck's sake."

Jim already has a headache and apparently it's gonna get much worse. He pours himself a cup of the shittiest coffee in Hawkins and turns to the kid sitting in front of his desk.

"What happened, kid?" he asks. "Why would you do that?"

Billy Hargrove reeks of cheap liquor, trouble and the metallic smell of blood. His lip is split and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week or so.

Billy doesn't answer, just glares at him.

"Breakin' and entering is no joke," Jim starts again. He sounds as pissed off as he feels, because he still has Mrs. Carters shrill voice in his ear, calling from Loch Nora about a burglar, about her fancy neighborhood getting sullied.

"I didn't do shit," Billy protests. "I…was just…"

He falls silent, mouth snapping shout like he regrets he even said a word.

"What?" Jim probes, because there's a piece of the puzzle missing.

Billy shakes his head, lips thin.

"Should I call the Harrington's and ask if you were invited?" Jim knows he's an asshole, but it comes more naturally to him than being nice.

Something flashes across Billy's face and his tan gets drained out by miserable paleness.

"Don't call them," Billy says, fingers digging into his thigh so hard his knuckles turn white.

"So, let's try again," Jim says, taking another sip from the dishwater the station claims is coffee.

"The key's under the flower pot," Billy mumbles.

Jim raises a brow. "And you know that why?"

Billy's eyes shoot dagger at him, the way only a pissed of teenager can look at an adult.

"Steve put it there for me," he says lowly, like it's a secret, something dirty and shameful you hide under your bed. "In case I need a place to go to…"

"So, you're pals?" Jim asks, huffing a laugh in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so?"

Billy's jaw tightens.

"Nobody knows," he finally says. His fingers find his necklace, tugging at the pendant. "It's better that way."

Jim is close to crack a joke about dramatic teenagers, but Billy's blue eyes are dark and there's a sadness there that doesn't belong to someone so young.

Whatever it is, Jim gets another piece of a puzzle - but apparently they're playing Hide and Seek.

"Okay," he says after a while. He'll put a stamp on the report, saying Confidential or similar shit. "You can go."

Surprise makes Billy look softer, less hurt. "What?"

Jim shrugs. "I've heard enough. Or do you want me to lock you up?"

It's a joke, but his throat clogs up when he looks down on Billy's file and sees that the kid had already spend a night the drunk tank a few weeks ago.

"Whatever, Chief." Billy lifts his hands. "I'm outta here, then."

The kid is halfway through the door, when it hits Jim. Billy can't go back to Loch Nora right now. Mrs. Carter is probably on guard.

"If you still need a place to stay, you can sleep in the break room," Jim offers. "The couch is a disaster though."

Billy stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He plays it cool when he catches himself.

"If I don't have to drink that shit." He points at the coffee. Jim can't blame him. Although 1 am is way too late to get cheeky.

"Just go to bed," Jim grumbles.

Billy salutes him. Jim can see his shoulders sinking, his whole body a bit less tense. Maybe he'll get them donuts for breakfast.

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway)" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

[tomatopers]

❝ I'm. . . late?! ❞

in honor of me also forgetting vday :,) here is my first post for this acc !! I also need to remember to make an intro post n stuff, and hopefully i'll make some friends on here eventually </3 i see ppl interacting with their anons/followers and it's sooo cute when will that be me !!!!

They forgot Valentine's Day... surely the nineteenth is just as special? Diluc, Zhongli x GN!Reader (separate)

Diluc watched you silently from a window, the sunny scene outside feeling worlds away from his own dim office. You were sitting on the stone wall surrounding the Dawn Winery, pretending to read one of his boring novels while pointedly ignoring him. He was very often unaware of his stumbles, this being his first relationship, but wouldn't he would catch on soon enough?

Sure it was immature to still act huffy at this age, but Valentine's day was 5 days ago! Not one! FIVE! You had to witness Lisa flirting with the Acting Grand Master for hours, which wasn't uncommon in the slightest, but the librarian seemed to make use of all her cheesy lines on the holiday.

The stone was frigid beneath your bare legs, and you were reminded that the sun hadn't yet begun to do its job this early in the month as your legs grew numb. Perhaps on this fifth day of snubbing your lover, you'd spend the night at a bar- maybe even in Venti's company, or Kaeya's. That last ditch effort to get him to notice your huffy behavior never failed.

The worst part of this whole affair was that you couldn't even be disappointed or properly upset in peace. How could you, when this was clearly not an intentional mishap? Diluc worked diligently, and was far more dependable than most; Though, this trait of his only served to deepen your guilt. Perhaps you should apologize for this childish behavior... Maybe talk it out like proper adults...

6 o'clock found you on a barstool at Angels' share, a little early for drinking but the glass in your hand was clearly not your first. Kaeya sat to your right, an arm resting on the counter as he lent an ear to your woes. Venti stood to your left, strumming his lyre quietly and pitching in jests during the quieter moments.

The door opened at 7 on the dot, and you turned around despite knowing who stood behind you. The backlighting of the evening sun made his hair glow like fire, exaggerating the irritation on Diluc's face to resemble anger. You stood up, slightly tipsy but no less aware, and grasped Kaeya's shoulder to steady yourself before walking forward.

"Good evening, Master Diluc. What brings you here so early?" He seemed to glare at you before casting a glance at Charles. The bartender visibly jumped, quickly bowing a greeting before averting his eyes as Diluc grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the bar. His grip, though firm, wasn't the slightest bit painful- even now, in whatever bitter mood he was in, Diluc always treated you with the utmost care.

You felt even more guilty for acting the way you did.

He released his hold on you in a more private space, tucked behind a couple trees, and waited. Just as you knew he would seek you out immediately after work, he knew you'd soon crumble under his stare and explain what you wanted. Those red eyes, sometimes blazing with anger or warm with love, were now passive and unreadable.

"Well?"

You felt heat behind your eyes, feeling the tears before they could escape down your cheeks. How stupid. It was hard to form a sentence between sniffles, so you stood and cried as he enveloped you in a hug. Maybe you had more than a few drinks back at the bar...

When your tears were all but spent, you gripped his hand in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. "...I'm sorry."

"What for?"

You sighed, "I've been such a child about this, it honestly wasn't even that important yet I-"

"If it bothered you, then it's important. To me."

There it was again, the ever chivalrous Diluc and his overflowing compassion when it came to you. Despite the temptation to lie and play it off, you sheepishly admitted, "It's just that, uh- a few days ago, it was Valentine's day... and we didn't really um- celebrate together... But! It's okay! You do so much already and I honestly don't need to do anything for some silly holiday when we can do stuff like that any day and.."

Looking up, you trailed off into a confused silence. Diluc's face was red, and he was the one now avoiding your eyes. "I'm- My apologies. I admit, it did slip my mind, but that is no excuse. It's more than a silly holiday, and as such, I would be honored if you would allow me an attempt to make it up to you." You burst out laughing, and he looked relieved. You really had no reason to be upset, not with this cute of a lover.

"I would allow you all the attempts possible, Mr. Ragnvindr. All the attempts and more." He smiled and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you followed him out of the alley. "Shall we visit that famous traveling chef then, darling? I heard he's in town. Or the Good Hunter, for something casual? Or perhaps we could buy you one of those gorgeous necklaces they have at the-"

You pulled him in by his collar, feeling him stiffen at the kiss before relaxing. "Diluc, sweetheart, I was thinking something closer to home? I can make dinner, and," you gestured at the setting sun, "the night is still young, I'm sure we can have some... fun, in that great big house of yours."

He turned an even brighter red, trying to cover his blush with the hand you weren't holding. "...That would be perfect."

It was rarer for Zhongli to go a day without speaking to you than it was for him to remember his wallet. That's why it was evident to even those around you that there was something amiss. You worked at a teahouse, and that just happened to be where Zhongli's favorite tea was sold. When you weren't working, you'd help out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, or stroll with him along the boardwalk. Plenty of time together, to say the least.

When the regulars witnessed you not serving the consultant's tea, as you always did, it immediately became a source of chatter- Some of the older women were having quite a laugh about young lovers' quarrels, though your relationship with Zhongli was far past the "young love" stage. As you walked from table to table, it was hard to ignore his stare practically burning holes through you.

The first whole hour of his visit must've passed this way; your every movement under the scrutiny of the ex-archon, your coworkers, and half the guests in the teahouse. Your work wasn't any different than usual, no. In fact, you might even be more productive now that you weren't stopping to chat with Zhongli whenever your hands were free. The owner of the place would never admit it, but he too was curious of the predicament under his roof.

Your scheduled break was minutes away, the one you would typically spend at Zhongli's table, but you clearly didn't intend to do so today. For a being such as him, it was inevitable that certain things would slip his mind, but Valentine's Day? You had planned out the entire day as a surprise, the holiday had even fallen on one of Zhongli's leisure days, but he called in the morning to tell you he'd be assisting the Traveler and would not come by. It wasn't even a brief task! He was gone for five days!

It wasn't like you hadn't told him anything, either. "Oh illustrious Rex Lapis, God among men, I beseech your presence in my humble abode on the final day of this week." He had chuckled at your attempt of mimicking the speech of those who cowered before him in his days of glory, taking your hand with a smile and a kiss. It was going to be perfect! But the plans were discarded, and the cake you made still sat untouched in the fridge...

Xingqiu walked in with his usual cheerful wave, heading to the back corner where he'd spend a couple hours reading; As though he noticed your restlessness, he smiled and offered you a seat to join him, "I'll take you up on your offer to regale me with the stories from your trip overseas, if I may?" You smiled back, "Of course! I'll bring the tea and join you."

You spent your break with the young man, and the following remainder of the shift passed with ease. At some point, Zhongli had disappeared- had he gotten upset? Most likely not, such a small matter was far from enough to garner his irritation. It was more likely that work had called for his presence. Maybe he'd notice shop owners taking down their holiday wares on his walk and remember his oversight.

You hung up your apron, bidding the staff goodnight before descending the stairs to head home. Someone was standing at the entrance to a darker alley, one tucked away from the streetlights and the watchful eyes of the Millelith. Quickening your pace, you were about to pass by when a voice, his voice, stopped you in your tracks.

"My dear, won't you tell me what has drawn your ire?" Zhongli stepped forward, his confused expression revealing his failure to decipher the issue alone. "I am unaware of any shortcoming, but I assure you it was far from intentional-"

"..."

He walked closer, "Pardon?" You looked up at him, hoping you didn't look pathetically sad. "It was Valentine's Day, the day you left for that trip with the Traveler. That's why I had invited you over." His face fell, his immediate regret making it nigh impossible to retain your frustration. "I will not make any excuses, beloved, it was entirely my fault that we could not celebrate such a wonderful day together-"

"It was, yes."

"-and I believe I grasp the value of celebrating love with a romantic partner, so while it won't compare, please join me for dinner tomorrow, where I can properly demonstrate my affections. I recall you liking when I cook, and surely such a thing is enjoyable together."

You pretended to consider the matter, before laughing and accepting his outstretched hand. "I would love to join you, and I hope I may occupy your time through the night as well." You saw his gaze sharpen for a moment before he swept you off your feet and into his arms.

"If I didn't know any better, my love, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."

"Whatever gave you that idea, darling?"

Without setting you down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I believe you wouldn't protest to spending tonight together, as well?" You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest, could see the smile splitting his face even with your face hidden behind your hands from the embarrassment. "My most adorable lover, I shall never again miss an opportunity to exhibit the extent of my affection for you."

[thetriumphantpanda]

i've got my love to keep me warm | joel miller

Summary | Joel agrees to spend Christmas with your family, away from the warmth of Texas, and it takes him a little while to warm up to the idea.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Grumpy x Sunshine vibes, some sweetness, some suggestive thoughts but nothing explicit, mentions of consuming food and alcohol.

Authors note | For @yeollie-plz- It's your @pedrostories secret santa!! I really hope you love this because it was good fun to put together! Happy Christmas to you!

“You know, you could at least pretend to be happy?” You tease, nudging your elbow into Joel’s side.

With the way he’s bundled up in his big coat, you’re not sure he actually feels you do it, but he grumbles all the same. Whatever he says in incoherent, but you can discern the meaning perfectly. What’s the point in being here as grown adults? What’s the point in wandering around, looking at lights and getting excited about Christmas, when, for the first time in years, there won’t be any children around?

“Come on,” You beam, taking his gloved hand in yours, “Maybe a drink with a little something in would make you happier?”

“What would make me happier would be sat indoors outta this snow.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on his hand to get him to follow you. He walks by your side, gloved hand sitting in yours as you weave through the crowds of people. Joel had wanted to stay in Texas for Christmas, something about the familiarity of it, not wanting to spend too much money on travelling at this time of year, but knowing it was his first Christmas without Sarah, now that she was all grown up with her own family, you knew that he’d be miserable, no matter that you’d be there with him, so you’d put your foot down, told him the two of you would spend Christmas with your parents up north, somewhere cooler, more festive.

He’d met them plenty of times before, they loved him, thought the sensible, stoic man was good for you. He had his head on his shoulders, a home of his own - settled, is what they’d called him. A far cry from the other boys you’d chosen in the past few years, and they were overjoyed to have a house full of people this year - your brother and his wife, you and Joel, a real family affair.

The centre of town always reminded you of being a child when you came back at this time of year. The streets filled with small stalls - some selling food, some filled with little trinkets from small businesses, all set around the main square, with its big tree, lit up and sparkling.

There’s one stall you zero in on, a small line that you stand in, still gripping at Joel’s hand as you step further towards the front each time someone walks away. You remember the first time you’d stood in this line - you were eight, and your dad had passed you a cup full of warm hot chocolate, a towering swirl of whipped cream on top. You’d sipped it so slowly, savouring the cream and the sweetness of the chocolate, and anytime you’re here, you have to get it, it’s just that these days, it’s always spiked with something.

Joel, of course, orders an Irish coffee - black, bitter coffee, split with cream and his favourite whiskey. You watch closely as he pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth, slipping it in his pocket so he can feel the warmth of it in his palm. He’s watching you just as closely as the lady hands you the cup of hot chocolate, mixed with Bailey’s, still with that tower of whipped cream too.

You both step away, standing off to the side as Joel takes the first sip of his drink. You can see the slight softening of his expression as he goes in for another sip, this one bigger than the first. He’s watching you as you dart your tongue out, taking some of the sweet cream into your mouth before you sip the drink, hissing when it burns your tongue a little.

“That’ll be hot, baby.” He teases, earning a little glare from you as he drinks his again, seemingly unaffected by the steam that rises from his own cup.

“It’s good,” You muse, holding it out to him, “Try it.”

“I don’t want none a’that,” He shakes his head, “Too sweet.”

“Joel Miller,” You chastise, pushing the cup closer to his face, “It’s Christmas, for the love of God, try the hot chocolate.”

He sighs, shakes his head in that way he always does when he knows he can’t win the battle. He hands you his drink, laughs a little when you wrinkle your nose at how strong it smells, takes yours from you and brings it to his mouth, taking a big sip, and when he pulls it away to hand back to you, you can’t stifle the giggle that falls from your mouth.

“What?” He asks, as your giggle falls into proper laughter, “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He snatches his own drink back sinking his neck down into his coat to keep the biting wind from his skin.

“Y-you’ve,” You choke out, pointing at your own nose, “You’ve g-got something here.”

You bring your hand up to his face, running the pad of your thumb over the tip of his nose, swiping the cream from his face. You go to pull it away, to wipe it away on the leg of your jeans, but Joel has other ideas, gripping your wrist to still you. He brings your hand to his mouth, enveloping your thumb into the heat of his mouth. You suck in a breath, feeling the tip of his tongue dart out against the skin, licking the cream off, before he drags your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop.

He drops your wrist from his hold, but you’re stuck, staring right at him, with the familiar throb of want settling across you.

“Thought it was too sweet for you?” You raise an eyebrow when you’ve composed yourself enough to speak.

He shrugs, takes hold of your hand and starts walking you back towards the tree, “If you’re gonna laugh at me, I ain’t gonna make it easy on you.” That familiar tone of grump is back, but you know he doesn’t mind really as he walks slowly, guiding you both to a bench that looks directly at the tree, dressed in red and gold, icy lights casting that familiar festive glow across everything.

He wipes the snow from the bench, makes sure it dry enough for you both to sit on, draping his arm across the back of it, encouraging you to curl into his side. The two of you sit for a while, watching the people come and go - young children excited to stand in line for the chance to meet Santa in his grotto, men on their own going from stall-to-stall, clearly shopping for last minute gifts, and couples, just like the two of you, wrapped up in nothing but each other as they hold hands, point things out to eat other.

“Thank you for coming,” You speak softly into his shoulder, looking up at him as he looks down at you, “I know it’s not really what you wanted, but I like that you’re here.”

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” He speaks just as softly, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, “I only ever want to be where you are baby,” He motions his head to the scene in front of you, “Even if it is in the freezing cold, surrounded by too many people, wherever I’m with you, I’m happy, okay?”

You smile at him, tilt your head slightly, as his lips come down onto yours, cold and chapped from the winter air, but oh-so familiar as they slant across your own. You open your mouth against his, let your tongue meld with his own, the bitter of his coffee mixing with the sweet of your own drink. It’s soft, gentle, and over far too quickly. He pulls away, places two more soft pecks against your mouth, and then settles back against the bench, his hand now resting on your shoulder.

A shiver settles across your bones, something to do with the fact that even a few years into your relationship, he still sets you on fire without even trying, but mainly because it’s fucking freezing. Leant against Joel’s body, you feel him shiver a little too.

“Home?” You ask.

He looks back down at you, smiling a little with a nod, “Home.”

[navybrat817]

Calgon, Take Me Away

Pairing: Reader's Choice

Word Count: 900

Warnings: None really. Reader is just done with some parts of adulting. 😂

A/N: We know @biteofcherry , @bucks-and-noble , and others love to do Choose Your Babe and similar variations. With the next couple of weeks being busy, busy, busy, I just want someone to be like Calgon and take me away. 😌

It was an average day as you had lunch with a friend. Nothing out of the ordinary. Both of you took turns trading topics of discussion. Work naturally came up, which made you think of money and relationships. How broke you were. Lonely. Exhausted. You couldn't hold it in.

“You know what? I’m sick of my job. I wish I could just quit,” you said, narrowing your eyes when your friend giggled. “I’m serious. I’m tired of it. I work my ass off, but I'm not going anywhere. I don't feel accomplished when I’m done at the end of the day and I dread hearing my alarm because it’s just another day of having to push through it. But I can't quit because I have to pay my bills. And I'm tired of being tired.”

Even saying the words wore you out.

She asked once your rant was over, “What’s the solution then?”

“I wish I knew,” you answered. You couldn't exactly quit without a plan in place. “If someone could just... I don't know, take me away, it would solve my problem.”

“Take you away?” She raised an eyebrow when you nodded. “How would that solve your problem? Sure, someone takes you away for a bit, but you’d have to go right back to work after your vacation because you'd still have bills. That or you'd have to find another job if you're gone for too long.”

“No, because it wouldn't be a vacation. It would be something more permanent,” you said, a dreamy look taking over your expression. “He would decide my new job is just taking care of myself. And taking care of him, of course.”

She blinked. It sounded crazy to your own ears, but you meant it. “So, you'd be a housewife?”

“Sort of. I guess? Housewife, sugar baby, whatever he needs.” She stared as you paused to take a drink. “He'd let me have hobbies because he wants me to be happy, but I wouldn't have to stress about a job I hate and I'd actually sleep and feel rested when I wake up. I wouldn't have to worry about anything.”

“A guy like that is probably married or a serial dater.”

“This one wouldn't be. He’d be devoted to me,” you said before you corrected yourself. “We’d be devoted to each other.”

Your friend playfully rolled her eyes. “And you think some guy is just going to show up and decide, 'Yeah! I'll make her my little housewife or sugar baby or whatever and I’ll be faithful and worship her!' Really?”

Your head hung for a moment. “A girl can dream, okay?”

“Look. You don't actually want that. You just hate your job right now. Maybe you'll find something else and it'll get better.”

“I've tried finding something else,” you reminded her, doing your best not to whine. “I've been trying for months and the light at the end of the tunnel is only getting further away.”

“Well, not to shit on your dream, but no one is going to show up and take you away,” she said, finishing the rest of her drink. She was being logical, of course, but why couldn't she let you fantasize for a moment? “That's reality. It sucks, I know.”

You deflated a bit and pushed the remainder of your food around your plate. You shouldn't have said anything. “It would still be nice if someone did,” you muttered.

But it was a dream, nothing more.

Someone clearing their throat at the table beside you pulled you from your thoughts. You gasped when you looked his way. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. “Sorry for interrupting, but what’s your name?”

You shrugged at your friend before you answered him.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he smiled, making your cheeks feel hot. “I couldn't help but overhear your problem. I think I can help if you're serious.”

Your friend's eyes were as large as saucers, no doubt noticing just how hot he was. “Wait. Really?” You asked.

This gorgeous man heard everything you said and wanted to make your fantasy a reality?

Your heart fluttered when he smiled more. “Really.”

“You're fucking with her right?” Your friend scoffed. “You thought it'd be a funny joke to say that? That's pretty fucked up. You should mind your own business.”

His gaze flickered toward her. “And I think it's pretty fucked up that this beautiful gem is on the verge of tears because she's unhappy and you'd rather roll your eyes and brush off her feelings,” he said, directing his gaze back at you once he finished.

Both of you gasped, you from shock that he defended you and her from offense. “That. That's not what I did!” She argued.

“She’s just trying to keep my feet on the ground,” you said to keep the peace. There was no reason to make a scene.

He softly smiled. “Well, I'd like to pay for your meal, if you'll let me,” he said, flagging the server down before he leaned over to hand you a business card with a wink. There was no ring on his ring finger, which was a good sign. “And I really can help you with your problem. So, if you're interested, call me.”

You glanced at the card in your hand and ran your thumb along the name…

Whose name is it?

Well. Who is it, lovelies? Love and thanks for playing! ❤️

[bumblesimagines]

no, i've never met you before in my life.

don't give me that look.

we could try being friends.

Sarah Cameron

Pronouns: He/Him/His

CW/TW: Underage drinking, sexual content, cheating

Got carried away with this one🧍🏻‍♀️

Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, Sarah unscrewed the cap of the flask while her friends huddled around her, subtly attempting to hide the flask from the adults around them. She took a quick swing of it and almost coughed at the burning sensation trickling down her throat before quickly passing the flask off to another friend. 

"Sarah! Come here a second, baby!"

She immediately straightened up at the sound of her father's voice, quickly wiping her lips dry before she spun around with a wide smile full of feigned innocence. Sarah shuffled through the crowd until she reached her father's side, her eyes flickering over to Wheezie questioningly but her little sister merely shrugged in return. "What is it?"

"I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine, sweetheart. We go-" Ward blew a raspberry, a hearty chuckle leaving him. The other two strangers present laughed as well, giving Sarah polite smiles when she glanced their way. "-way back. This is (F/N) and his wife, (M/N). They moved back a few weeks ago with their son, (Y/N). He's about Sarah's age, right?"

"Oh, yes, I think so." (M/N) nodded, dropping her arm from around her husband's waist and looking around the other guests bustling around until she spotted her son and waved him over. "He's currently studying online but it'd be great if you could introduce him to some of your friends, Sarah. Rafe has already been a pleasure showing him around."

Yikes. "Yeah, for sure! It'd be no problem." Sarah nodded, her fingers brushing back some blonde strands swaying with the light breeze passing by. Her attention turned onto the young familiar man who slinked up to stand beside his mother, offering her a quick peck on the temple before he turned to look at the Cameron. She stared at him, lips parted and eyes wide as he shook Ward and Rose's hands, his own body tensing when he finally looked at her. 

"I know you." Sarah blurted out because how on Earth could she forget him? When they'd met she thought he'd been just another touron visiting the island for the summer who'd manage to get invited to a Kook house party. (Y/N). The name rang a bell a little too late. Rose and Ward glanced between the two curiously.

"No, I've never met you before in my life. I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." (Y/N) gave a little forced laugh and she squinted at him, her brows dipping. "But, I'd be happy to get to know you better, Miss Cameron. Maybe while we walk to the dessert table? I've been craving a slice of that cake since I first saw it."

At his words, the adults shared a laugh and chuckles. Ward clapped his hand over (Y/N)'s shoulder a few times, his eyes crinkled with amusement and his lips pulled back into a wide smile. "He's all you, (F/N). Always making a beeline to the desserts everywhere you go!" The adults laughed again, although Rose continued glancing between the two with uncertainty. 

(Y/N) stepped forward and offered Sarah his arm, letting her loop hers around it before the two parted from the adults and made their way through the guests, avoiding those dancing and mingling. Sarah peeked back toward her father and stepmother, ensuring enough distance had been made before she slipped her arm away from his and swatted at his stomach with a scowl.

"Oh, don't give me that look." He huffed and stopped by the dessert table, taking a quick glance over the treats available before looking back at her. "What'd you want me to say? 'Oh, yeah, I know your daughter because we hooked up at a party' doesn't sound great to say to a man you've only met twice. Do you even remember half of what happened?" 

"Of course I do!" 

"So, tell me, Spiderman," Sarah spoke teasingly, bringing the beer bottle back up to her lips and taking a gulp of the last of the liquid swirling around in it. She swallowed and set the bottle down between her crossed legs, her gaze drifting away from the Kooks partying below near and in the pool to look at the teen beside her. "Do you always climb onto the roofs at parties?"

"Sometimes." He grinned, his head tilted back to gaze up at the twinkling stars above them. "It's... nice to take a breather every once in a while. Especially at night when it's too dark for someone to call the cops on you." 

Sarah giggled and tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder and resting over her jean jacket. "Have you ever fallen off?" She asked, glancing at the distance between them and the ground. She was no stranger to climbing on roofs but she'd hardly call it a habit like he did.

"Nah," He clicked his tongue and looked at her. "I know when it's a good idea and when it's not a good idea. But, if I ever did fall, it's all part of the risk of taking adventures. I might break a bone or two but at least I can say I had fun."

"So, you're like... a daredevil?"

"Eh, you'll never catch me jumping out of a plane but climbing a water tower or cliff diving? Been there, done that." (Y/N) shrugged and her brows raised, a soft hum leaving her throat. Sarah ran her thumb over the rim of the bottle, unable to wipe the smile off her lips as the two stared at each other. He was handsome, a fresh face in a sea of people she grew up with, and held a soul for adventure just as she did.

Topper lingered in the back of her mind with his boyish smile and brown curls, but he was... boring, at best. Predictable and almost puppy-like in the way he trailed after her and her brother hoping to get a taste of that Cameron attention. Figure Eight saw it as something big when the Camerons liked someone, like a symbol that person was worth something. It was nice to befriend others easily but Sarah always feared they were after one thing or another. But with new faces who had no idea who she was or how much money her family had? She could be whoever she wanted. 

(Y/N) broke eye contact first, pushing himself off his hands and wiping them on his pants. "Come on, buttercup," He said, lightly patting her hip and carefully pushing himself up onto his feet. He wobbled a bit but caught his balance in no time, his hand dropping down and extending toward her. Sarah held onto it as she got up, her head bowing semi-bashfully when (Y/N) kept a gentle grip on it as they carefully made their way toward the open window. "After you, madam."

"Thank you, kind sir." She laughed, her index finger and thumb tightly wrapped around the neck of the bottle while the others pressed over the top of the window. She stuck her foot in and bent the knee of her other leg, feeling around blindly for the window seat until she felt the top of her sneaker press into the cushion. 

Carefully, Sarah ducked and tightened her grip on his hand as she took a step onto the window seat and fully entered the game room of whoever had hosted the party. Sarah vaguely recognized it from a distant memory of gathering around the pool table with friends and a drink in hand but the memory proved too fuzzy to remember who actually lived in the house. She finally released his hand and hopped down from the window seat, setting the bottle aside and offering her hand in return as he followed in after her. He landed beside her with a louder thump, though the hip-hop song blaring through the speakers downstairs drowned it out. 

"What are you going to do now, Spiderman?" Sarah asked, her veins tingling with the buzz of drinks she'd ingested finally taking effect. She watched him brace his knee on the window seat and tug the window closed, his fingers fiddling with the latch until it locked. "Going back to being Peter Parker for the night? Pretending like you give a shit about any of the people downstairs?"

"Are you talking about me or talking about yourself?" (Y/N) arched a brow at her playfully and stepped back from the window seat, taking a proper look around the dark, barely lit room. She chuckled softly and released a soft hum, unable to deny that while she loved her friends, most of the time she could hardly stand to be around them for more than a few hours. Her teeth dug into the inside of her cheek when he checked the time on his phone. 

"Are you leaving?" She asked quietly, the disappointment surprising her. 

"Maybe," (Y/N) shrugged and stuffed the phone back into his back pocket, raising his head to look back at her. "Might grab another drink or two... see if anyone's started a game of beer pong. If not, you and I could always start one and see how well of a team we make, Gwen Stacy."

"Mm, I don't feel like drinking." She murmured, her head lolling to the side and lips stretching into a coy smile. Nerves danced along with desire, mixing with the buzz and euphoric feeling spreading through her body.

Something about being intimate with someone always frightened her, scared her into drawing away from her boyfriends whenever they tried taking it to the next level. Some were kind about it, others got huffy and annoyed. In the end, she always dropped them before things could fully get serious, even if part of her earned for the closeness of a partner. Her friends always said a one-time thing a stranger would ease things for her, take away the chance of coming face to face with the guy again and having to face the fact she'd allowed herself to be fully vulnerable with someone. 

"And what do you feel like doing, buttercup?" (Y/N) mimicked her, tilting his head to the side as well and giving a knowing grin. She pursed her lips, her fingertips brushing over the rips in her shorts in deliberation. She thought of Topper and how he definitely wouldn't know what he was doing versus cool and relaxed (Y/N) who seemed like the sort of guy you could lose yourself in. 

Without giving it further thought, Sarah stepped forward and reached out, her hands curling around the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. She pressed her lips to his, glad to at least be well-versed in the art of kissing, and dragged her arms around his shoulders. He tasted like beer and the subtle scent of his cologne filled her nose. His hands landed on her waist, fingers lightly digging into her warm skin. They explored her bare stomach and back before his arm curled fully around her waist and his other hand dropped to grasp the back of her thigh and lift her leg. 

Sarah giggled against his lips, a soft squeak following when she found herself backed against the wall by the window. She felt breathless when he pulled away to press messy kisses along the side of her neck, the heat spreading across her face only darting down to her lower belly and gripping her gut like a vice. She gasped and sighed softly, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders and digging her nails into the fabric of it.

Her jean jacket slipped off her shoulders and with a small wiggle, it slipped further down her arms. She moved her arms and heard it flop softly on the floor by her feet, teeth catching her bottom lip when (Y/N) explored the newly exposed skin. Sarah dipped her hands beneath his shirt and ran her palms along his stomach and sides, her back arching slightly off the wall and against him with each delicate drag of his teeth along her shoulder. Definitely the sort of guy you could lose yourself in.

(Y/N)'s finger hooked around the middle of her floral bikini top and gave it a swift tug, the laces undoing with ease and the top falling to the floor alongside the jacket. She shivered, the instinct to cover herself abruptly fading when his lips latched onto one of her hardened and sensitive nubs, a strangled whine drawing from her throat when his hand fondled the other. His leg pushed itself between hers and her hips automatically rolled against his thigh, her head lolling back from the combination of sensations. Goosebumps rose along her skin, hairs raising with each graze of his tongue and teeth against her. 

"(Y/N)," She exhaled and whined again when he hummed, his hand lightly squeezing the delicate mound of flesh as he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to her chest. He chuckled at the sight of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes jumping up to her half-lidded ones. 

"I've got you, buttercup." He pressed a kiss to the tan line on her shoulder, his fingers undoing the button and zipper of her shorts and slowly dragging them down. (Y/N) moved his leg and pushed the shorts further down until they fell past her knees and down to her ankles along with the rest of her clothes, her phone thumping softly against the floor when it slid out of the pocket. 

Sarah's arms slipped around his shoulders again when he grabbed her thighs and lifted her, her brain growing more fuzzy from all the sensations rushing through her body. Her lips dragged along the side of his cheek, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He gently set her down on the edge of the pool table, her legs dangling down the sides and cool wood pressing against the underside of her thighs. She reached again for his shirt and pulled it upward, latching her mouth on his when he finally took it off. 

Her back arched automatically when he cupped her chest again, his thumb running over her perky nipple while her hips grinded down against the wood. Sarah's head tilted back again, strands of her hair beginning to stick to her skin from the sweat forming and soft pants escaping her semi-swollen, spit-slick lips. (Y/N) wrapped his fingers on each side of the laces keeping her bikini bottom fastened to her body and pulled on them, tugging the fabric out from underneath her. Sarah's cheeks flushed at the notable wet patch.

"Lay back." (Y/N) told her and her thighs clenched together, a shaky breath leaving her as she lied back, feeling the green fuzz of the baize beneath her on the pool table rub against the heated skin of her back. She took a deep inhale when (Y/N) pried her legs apart, his hands hooked underneath her knees and holding her legs up.

Sarah gasped, her hands flying down to the top of his head when his tongue pressed flat against her slick folds, the vibration of his chuckle enticing another strangled noise from her. She felt hot and woozy, every lick and suckle sending another wave of heat and pleasure through her body. He released one of her legs to rub his thumb against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, the repetitive action ripping a cry from her throat; luckily muffled by the loud singing and rap song playing through the house. Her back arched off the table, her hips raising and grinding against his face desperately. 

While Sarah had envisioned her first time plenty of times, she'd always ensured to lower her expectations with each story her friends told her about their disappointing first time, most of them warning her to keep her expectations low on guys and them preferring receiving over giving. But (Y/N) seemed to find her reactions amusing, almost purposefully seeking out new ways to get her thighs trembling and voice crying with pleas. Her expectations had certainly raised, as had her standards.

When (Y/N) replaced his thumb with his mouth, the agonizing knot that'd formed snapped suddenly, her hips stuttering and trembling legs instinctively clenching around his shoulders as another cry tore through her. He chuckled again and kept his mouth on her as she rode through her high, the overwhelming feeling leaving her lightheaded and bringing tears to her eyes until he leaned back with wet lips and a soaked chin. 

"You good, buttercup?" He asked teasingly as he wiped his mouth again, his voice dripping with amusement at her heaving form. She swallowed, still reeling and unable to form the proper words to respond. Sarah stared at the ceiling above her until she could form coherent thoughts and slowly pushed herself up onto her hands, her hair brushing along her skin. He tilted his head at her. 

"'m fine." Sarah breathed with a soft laugh, wiping away some drool that'd trickled out the corner of her mouth. She ran a hand through her hair to push it back before leaning forward to kiss him again, groaning lowly when she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Her body pressed against his again, his hands running along her legs and back soothingly. 

She reached down to his jeans, clumsily working on unbuttoning and unzipping them with still trembling hands. (Y/N) hummed against her mouth and pulled back to look down at her hands, a quiet snort escaping him once she finally managed to pop the button and pull the zipper down. His fingers massaged into the fat of her hip, his head lolling to the side and his gaze lifting to meet Sarah's.

"I wasn't expecting to sleep with someone when I got here, Sarah," Somehow, hearing her name rolling off his tongue only made her flush even hotter. "I'm gonna assume you also don't have any condoms stored away either, and I don't think you'd like waiting around for me to find a towel or rag in this big ass house." Sarah internally thanked Rose for being insistent on getting her on birth control the second she entered high school despite the embarrassing conversation that led up to it with her father. 

"I'm on the pill, it'll be fine." Sarah exhaled, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down as far as she could. She swallowed at the sight of his length, her lips pressing together. She'd seen plenty in her life; dumb drawings on buildings and school property, nudes a select few of her friends would show each other and laugh about, among other things. Still, she felt the nervousness return. 

"Buttercup," (Y/N) pulled her attention back to his face, his brows furrowed and head still tilted. "Are you a virgin?"

She pursed her lips, contemplating lying or saying some sort of flimsy reason for her reaction but ultimately, her shoulders sagged and she gave a meek nod. "It-It's not, like... I've had chances, I just... it never felt like the right moment."

"And now it feels right? With a guy you just met? At a house party?" His brows raised with each question and Sarah swallowed again, pushing back some loose strands over her ear and leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Sarah-"

"Yes, it feels right." She murmured, scooting closer to the edge of the table and slipping her legs loosely around his waist, her fingers running along his length and savoring the shudder that ran through him.

Sarah leaned back to look down again, experimenting as she curled her fingers around him and slowly jerked her hand, taking note of each reaction and noise he made. She licked her lips and quickened the pace of her hand with each pump, feeling a hint of pride trickle through her when he groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder. She continued experimenting; squeezing, jerking, and trying different paces while focusing on what earned her more reactions. Sarah grinned when his hips jerked and stuttered, practically beginning to hump into her hand. 

Sucking his teeth, (Y/N) pulled Sarah's hand away and lifted her up and off the table, spinning her around with ease. Sarah blinked, lips parting to question him but a strangled curse left her when (Y/N) pressed against her from behind, pinning her lightly against the pool table. His length pushed between the plushness of her thighs, dragging along her slick folds agonizingly slowly. Her body bent over, her arms bracing against the pool table and her head falling forward with her hair spilling over her face. 

(Y/N) moved his hips slowly, rubbing himself along her thighs and her heat before his hands returned to her hips and pulled her back, only leaving her arms on the table. He drew back and Sarah inhaled, a quiet whine dragging out of her lips when she felt the tip push against her, her mouth falling open as he slowly pushed inside. Her nails dug into her skin, eyes squeezing shut as she felt herself clench instinctively at the intrusion. (Y/N)'s hand ran along her side before cupping her tit again, massaging the flesh gently. 

"Breathe, sweetheart." (Y/N) cooed from behind her, coming to a stop and waiting for her to regain the ability to breathe, only for the air to be pulled from her lungs again when he continued. Her hand fell over his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he continued fondling her chest. The hand on her hip dug into her skin, keeping her steady.

She sighed heavily when he bottomed out, drool dripping from her parted lips that she wiped away once she grew used to the new feeling of being full. "Shit." She whispered when he slowly drew back to the tip, hands planting firmly against the wood of the table and a long, whiny grunt leaving her when he pushed back in, moving slowly while she adjusted once again. 

"Relax," (Y/N) leaned over to peck her shoulder, moving his hand away from her chest and back to her hip, digging his fingers in and slowly moving her hips forward as he drew back before pulling her backward when he drew forward. Sarah's arms trembled, her toes curling in the inside of her shoes and her head tilting back. 

Eventually, the careful pace slowly quickened and Sarah's mind grew jumbled once more, pleas and noises escaping her lips as (Y/N) began snapping his hips in and out of her drooling cunt, the hands on her hips keeping her jelly legs from giving out on her. Her body swayed and jiggled with his movements, the filthy sound of skin slapping together combined with the soft squelch and noises made her skin burst with heat. The knot formed again quickly, each passing second reducing her mind to a mess. 

"(Y/N)!" She cried out in a half-sob when his hand reached down to rub against her clit again, teeth digging into her lip and nearly breaking the skin when the knot burst again and ripped through her; her body practically convulsing and one foot lifting and slamming against the ground repeatedly. 

(Y/N) hardly relented, his arm sliding around her midsection and pulling her back flush against his chest. He mouthed at her neck, his own grunts and huffs muffled against her skin. Sarah raked her nails along his arm, unable to do much else other than release broken noises and incoherent babbling while he chased his own high in thursts that began turning sloppy. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, squirming at the feeling of him pulsing inside her before she released a gasp at the feeling of him pushing deep inside, the both of them nearly staggering when he released. 

"Jesus," (Y/N) murmured, stepping back with uneven breathing and slumping down on the window seat before they could fall. Sarah went limp against him, running her fingers over the scratch marks on his skin apologetically and tilting her head to peer downward. Desire tightened around her gut at the sight of his release oozing out of her slightly, releasing a shaky sigh. She certainly wouldn't forget him. 

"I remember everything," Sarah told him, thankful her long flowy dress hid the way her thighs clenched together involuntarily. She inhaled deeply and snatched a strawberry from a tray, dipping it under the chocolate fountain before biting into it to distract herself from her vivid memories. "You could have said we met at a party or something!" 

"Not a good first impression either," (Y/N) muttered under his breath, grabbing a small golden plate and getting himself a few sweets. 

"Why didn't you mention you moved here? And my brother's been showing you around this whole time?"

"He invited me to that party in the first place, Sarah. I knew he had two younger sisters but he never said their names or described them. Besides, you never mentioned your last name and this place is packed with rich white girls who vaguely look like Rafe." (Y/N) huffed again, taking a bite out of a brownie and glancing over his shoulder toward their parents. "I never said anything about visiting. You made an assumption." 

"An assumption you never bothered to clarify!"

"Okay, look," (Y/N) sighed. "We could try being friends or we pretend it never happened-"

"Oh, is that what you do with all the girls whose virginity you take?" Sarah dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "You 'pretend it never happened' to avoid talking about it?"

"For the record, I was fine with not going all the way. No, I don't go around sleeping with virgins, Sarah. The only other virgin I've slept with is the one I lost my own virginity to and she's still my fucking girlfriend." (Y/N) snapped in an equally harsh whisper, shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth and swallowing it down with a drink. Sarah blinked at him, her jaw going slack.

"You have a girlfriend?"

"And you have a boyfriend. So, I'd say we're in agreement on pretending it never happened, yeah?"

[spiderfreedom]

the male gaze distorts reality

started watching movies again (just don't like movies really) and one thing that surprised me was how the male gaze isn't just about staring at hot naked ladies, but how it distorts reality. the male gaze creates 'people' and 'situations' that simply don't exist.

the biggest example to me is the femme fatale. the devious woman using her sexuality as a weapon. whether the trope is a blonde bimbo bubblingly bouncing her boobs, or a sophisticated older brunette casually letting the strap fall off her shoulder and threatening to reveal her bust, they are different incarnations of the same concept. the women are knowingly using the sexual desire of men against them.

i watched a particularly egregious example where a group of women were sent to seduce a group of men, hanging off their shoulders, caressing their chests, with the promise of further sex if they came to another room. the true purpose was to humiliate them by getting them to disrobe in front of other people.

when i was a kid watching these scenes, i was convinced that this was a real thing women did - there were women out there who knowingly used their sexual appeal to get men to do things they otherwise wouldn't. it had to be such a recurrent trope for a reason, right? it even shows up in movies for children - remember the hot pink pegasus seducing hercules's pegasus?

but as an adult, i find myself confused watching these scenes. i've never seen anything like this happen. i've never met someone who says they do things like this. it's one thing to be flirty and dress in a sexually attractive way to get free drinks, but it's quite another to be so sexually forward to 'deceive' and 'trap' men. not to mention, it's... dangerous. if the man even believes he's being deceived, he can turn violent. it's a foolish move.

maybe the only real life example I can think of is honeypots. but honeypots are actual spies, trained by governments, and spies are selected to have less empathy than the average human being. do we really think that among untrained women there are so many seductresses with the skill of trained spies?

"what about sex workers/prostitutes?" while the honeypot spy is employed by a government agency, prostitutes are paid by the very people they are "seducing." prostitutes have to put on an act - they need to pretend to be the sexually active and perpetually horny woman men both want and fear. but most prostitutes are not like this; they are in it because they need money fast, not because they think fucking strange men for pay is a sexy and desirable career path (fun fact - read the diary of madam pompadour, the most famous courtesan and the embodiment of aristocratic seductress, and you will find she actually did not like having sex with the king and dreaded it. not even our real life courtesans can live up to our fantasies.)

the entire idea of a woman using her sexuality against men is simply a male fantasy - and the flipside is that it's a male anxiety, too.

men wish that women would approach them and find them desirable and initiate sexual intercourse with them, without the men having to do any of the work. there's nothing inherently wrong with fantasizing that a hot person finds you so special and hot that they want to have sex with you right away. men and women of all sexual orientations entertain these secret fantasies.

but then, there's the fear - "what if these hot women are actually only pretending to be interested in me, to get something from me? and i'm too horny to think straight and i actually give it to them?!" and that is the male anxiety, that for a moment, they actually end up losing the upper hand. despite the fact that such a situation is actually pretty rare in real life (I asked several male friends if they had personally or second-hand encountered such a situation in real life, and none could say they had), it is a common trope in fiction. it is especially lascivious in film, where the seduction before the fall can be portrayed in softcore porny ways.

"this is a foolish idea, everyone knows fiction and reality are separate." well, we know they are separate, but do you know which parts? if you don't already know the facts of the situation beforehand, how can you tell when fiction is lying to you and when it's drawing from reality? do you think the young, sexually inexperienced kids watching disney's hercules know that 'seductresses' aren't a common threat when we watch this scene? or will they learn and think "ok, a thing that happens in grownup life is that hot ladies seduce men, and you gotta watch out for them!" what basis does a child or even a teenager have to know this is false? especially when this is a common trope?

"women are sexually available and active - and deceitful" is a harmful trope. when you read about the ancient greeks stereotyping that women are lustful, they don't mean it in an "aww shucks, these girls just love having sex!" kinda way, they mean it in a "women are unfaithful and will use any means to get dick, including taking advantage of their hotness" way (this is why 'whore' is the ultimate insult for women). because if this trope were real, then it would be dangerous, wouldn't it? honeypot spies are dangerous for this reason. luckily for us, it is not real, but the male anxiety surrounding it continues. the male desire/anxiety around it informs porn tropes about 'punished sluts'. it informs incel tropes about the 'cock carousel'.

and this is what i mean when i say the male gaze distorts reality. it fabricates, out of whole cloth, a person that does not exist in any meaningful way - a woman who seduces men while demanding no emotional involvement, who is eager and willing at all times, who can turn the very desire for her existence against those men to get what she wants. she is not repulsed by or afraid of the men she pretends to be attracted to. before, we had to content ourselves with art and novels glorifying this false woman, but film allows her to exist in flesh and blood. cast a real woman, have her speak words and move her body in ways dictated by a man, and suddenly she appears much more real. grow up with enough of these, and even women writers can start to think these "seductresses" are real people. she can try to reclaim her and turn her into a badass boss babe, or she can condemn her as immoral and pathetic, but the deception is complete - the argument is no longer about whether this woman exists (she does not), but about whether she is justified in her ways. the female writer does not realize she was nursed on the male gaze for years, and it will take serious seeing with her own eyes to realize what is the real world and what is male fantasies and fears.

[drama-glob]

Okay, I've been seeing some Ozzie hate/criticism for a while now that mainly pertains to "Ozzie's" and "Oops," namely his interactions with Stolas/Stolas and Blitz with three points being brought up the most. I can concede to agree with one of the points, but what I don't like is that there is then no consideration for Ozzie's perspective on the matter in regards to "Ozzie's;" as for the other two points, they just make me want to pinch the bridge of my nose because I feel they are overlooking some very important stuff/factors. >_< So, hopefully I can get my points across on what I saw/heard in these situations and give at least some people pause for thought and if not, well, at least I got it off my chest. :/

First off, the point I concede on is that yes, Ozzie should apologize to Stolas for what happened at Ozzie's.

Stolas did not ask to get spotlighted and made into an example for all of Ozzie's to see, and bringing up Octavia is always going to be a sensitive subject, especially with how the divorce is affecting her.

Now for the perspective taking:

For Ozzie, he is seeing a consenting, adult couple out looking for some lusty, kinky fun; they are at Ozzie's after all. He doesn't know the circumstances that led to Stolas and Blitz winding up here. Ozzie likely even assumes that Stolas brought Blitz here given that he used his status to get into the club without a reservation. How is Ozzie supposed to know that Blitz was the one who brought him as a ploy to spy on Moxxie and Millie (so not a real date) as well as know the problems that are in the Stolitz relationship such as Stolas talking down to Blitz or that Blitz is using him too?

Also, it just irks me how people can come to understand Fizz's attitude towards Blitz in "Ozzie's" now that we know about the fire and believing that he was left for dead by Blitz, but see that it's Ozzie's fault for not knowing everything that's going on in Stolas's life (such as the trouble between him and his daughter arising from the divorce). True, Stolas does not have to tell Ozzie about his trauma/problems and that's completely fair, but then it's not right to go around and criticize Ozzie for not knowing that it's a sensitive subject. Stolas has been hiding so much from Octavia and likely everyone else because of multiple factors, but his main concern being Octavia learning secondhand about the abuse, depression and/or his drinking.

I know Ozzie's saying this about Fizz's trauma and he loves him, but it's clear he respects that he shouldn't tell Stolas about it/setting boundaries for personal information, so had he known though about Stolas's case, I highly doubt he would have made a spectacle of him cheating, especially considering the subject of abuse. Plus, wouldn't you think if Ozzie knew that Stolas had been physically and sexually abused by Stella, he'd be adamant to tear Stella a new one or see that she was punished, especially given his values on consent? >:(

In addition, all Ozzie had to say about Stella was that she's hot, so he likely has hardly ever met her enough to speak ill of her/know what she's really like; Stella's attitude towards imps alone would tick him off. >:( Anyway, Stella is not going to the Goetia meetings where they could have chatted and I doubt if he talked with Stolas, he'd say anything revealing or maybe even just chalk it up to Stolas not being satisfied by Stella. I also highly doubt Ozzie is going to waste his time going to Stella's parties when he has a ring and business to run along with wanting to spend time with Fizz. Plus, he'd likely favor either his own party or one thrown by Bee. ;)

Something to note too is just how happy Ozzie is that Stolas was with Blitz because besides him and Bee, to have a royal publicly display that they find someone of lower class attractive and wants to be lustful with is a big deal; Andrealphus even mentioned there hasn't been a Goetia like Stolas, although I can believe some Goetias doing the act of sleeping with those deemed the lower class in private. -_- Ozzie thinks the hierarchy is bunk or at the very least, you should treat people fairly and not act superior to them. So, by highlighting Stolas and Blitz, in addition to getting the performance back on track, he's showing lust is not bound be class differences and that giving into pleasure should matter more than saying, "Oh it can't work between us because you're an imp and I'm a Sinner" or one's an imp and one's a prince in Stolas and Blitz's case.

Ozzie's line "Now that's the spirit of lust" is also cause to see why he's so happy since he's seeing Stolas trade everything else in his life for the thing he desires most: to be with Blitz, or in the case of seeing the two of them at his club, inferring it was to have sex with Blitz; it certainly was some first class demonstration of lust, that's for sure.

Also:

There's also a decent chance he didn't see Stolas do this since he was back onstage immediately after, but if he had and with how observant he is, he likely would have had some questions for Stolas since Ozzie's isn't the place to be ashamed about what turns you on, so him doing this would have made him wonder what's up. :/ (Of course, now we know that the Stella part didn't matter to him, but that he was doing this at the expense of his daughter's happiness that Stolas felt ashamed and not for being seen with Blitz, but this moment still unfortunately sent us to the place we are now along with a slew of other problems contributing to it :/ ).

*Also, to nip it in the bud, it was Fizz and Verosika really doing all the Blitz bashing, not Ozzie, with him mainly just letting Fizz vent all his anger since as he put it to Blitz, "You've lived rent-free in Fizz's head for years," so this was supportive BF/husband stuff in hopes that it might help him heal since it seems Fizz and Blitz haven't had contact in those 15years to talk/work it out.

So long story short/just to recap, while Ozzie didn't do what happened at Ozzie's with malice and the fact that intentions do matter, he still did it and the damage was done, which is why I concede to him needing to apologize; until he knows everything though, he likely won't, so please don't see it as a flaw of his character that he hasn't until such time. :/

On to point two: I've been seeing it be said ever since "Oops" came out that Ozzie doesn't actually believe in helping Stolas and Blitz and only did it because Fizz told him he could. -_- Okay, well:

Ozzie is saying right here that he sympathizes with Stolas and why wouldn't he?! He flipping knows exactly what it's like to be in love with someone deeply and wanting to give them something that makes them happy! Yes, the reason he didn't give Stolas the crystal right then and there was because of Fizz, but that's because doing so would be an act of betrayal to Fizz, not that he doesn't see Stolas's side in this or understand why he wants this. Until the end of the episode, Fizz had hated Blitz and had clearly been verbal about it in the ~10yrs Ozzie and him have known each other, so going behind his back to help someone Fizz sees as his enemy is certainly grounds for relationship trouble and they'd lose so much of the trust that we see Fizz and Ozzie have. :(

The last thing that I've been seeing is people saying that Ozzie finds Stolas annoying or that Ozzie may even hate him because they heard him groan during this statement:

For me though, Ozzie groaned the whole sentence and not just Stolas's name, so it was not singling him out or if anything had a sighing aspect to it because it had been a long day, but more importantly, Ozzie's time with Stolas was mostly a flipping 12HR HOSTAGE NEGOTIATION!!!

That is not going to be a fun time no matter who Ozzie was with, okay?!

*I've also seen a comment about it being Stolas is a nerd compared to him when it's like, "Hello! Ozzie is a nerd too! He's literally a mechanical engineer who designs complicated robotic parts and sex toys! That takes a lot of math and physics!" Plus, I could see that being a point of interest for Stolas and Ozzie since calculating orbits, stars, eclipses, prophecies, etc. uses math and physics as well as Stolas would likely be fascinated with Ozzie's crystals.

The other thing people seem to forget is that Ozzie was also stuck with this guy:

The sleazy, asshole lawyer with a power kink, who sat in Ozzie's chair, talked down to him, pulled that move with the first contract so that they really had no choice but to thoroughly vet the bigger one with a fine-tooth comb, and kept delaying everything until the deadline literally came! >:(

Also, for people thinking about Ozzie being happy that he said no to giving Stolas his crystal:

This was him trying to cheer Fizz up, to let him know that although the day was undeniably terrible, Ozzie still respected his partner's wishes and knew that he wouldn't have wanted Blitz to have one of his crystals. Ozzie was even partially laughing while he said it in a "Oh, you're just going to love what happened babe!" or "You are not going to believe this Fizz!" kind of way in that maybe they could laugh about it sounding ridiculous for Blitz to have a crystal with how much Fizz hated him up to that point.

I know people may still think or feel how they want without budging by the end of this, but this is just what's been on my mind and I wanted to give my two cents on it. Also, part of the reason this is so long too is because I already analyzed the "Ozzie's" stuff for a fan fiction I wrote about it a year ago where Ozzie realizes he made some assumptions that night and was wrong. :/ Anyway, thanks for reading this giant thing. <3<3<3