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#and was very deprived of content of these two
peakvincent · 2 years
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new game is to type one through ten in your tags and see what comes up. i think my favorite of mine is ‘my uncle told us he spent seven and a half hours in a sensory deprivation tank once’ but ‘gideon the ninth motherfucker’ is a close second
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Do I attempt to salvage the thought I had about Fermet printing Fermetes 2+ hours ago into a post at 10:23 PM or do I salvage the 1883 words of a .md file I apparently wrote before the two hours of helping someone assemble monitor stand + cable management session began into some droll post for tomorrow?
#Baccano! Light Novel Spoilers#personal#it's probably the latter#I finally sat back down after the two hours and attempted to write said pithy post#but my already sleep-deprived brain is not having it.#*droll not pithy#*blatantly terribly written not droll#It's not even a particularly interesting or deep thought but the primordial instinct within me telling me my B! knowledge is hopelessly#wrong and that I should factcheck some of this is holding it back#(but seriously though. Fermet hive mind supervising SAMPLE branches across Europe and NA ...#(...these not quite carbon copy Fermets but /very/alike Fermets just. supervising the multi-continent perpetuation of#~child torture cult~#(hm. yes. how will these SAMPLE seeds sprout in America. I know. I shall water them personally but allow them to blossom idiosyncracies)#(I'm not saying that's what Fermet did. I'm just asking you to imagine hive!Fermet in Fermet-progeny homunculi cultivating their culty crops#simultaneously across two continents minimum - three actually (Asia via Japan) - for however many years (???decs???) it's been since#Fermet cottoned on to whatever constituted proto hivemind alchemy#Wow it's easier to write and post things to Tumblr in the sweet sweet informal casual atmosphere of tags#and not the formal 'wuh woh your content may be treated seriously' posts themselves.This doesn't count as a post...#(Really definitely not saying that. Nothing I say in these tags counts! Take this flourish on top of the cartoon evil and be put out.)#Looks like those 1883 words also referenced Huey hive mind
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aroaceinaerospace · 9 months
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sometimes I so deeply miss being a teenager because there was so much more space to just talk to people the same age as you and figure out who you are. there's nothing quite like the vulnerability you were able to reach late at night during a sleepover with friends
#finding yourself at a different time compared to the people around you can be so so so isolating#i know its talked about a lot in the book refusing compulsory sexuality how we seem to pin life events on certain ages#like i always enjoyed hearing about my friends and how they see the world and their experiences#and the way they were able to just talk freely about who they are and where they fit in the world#im so grateful that ive been on the journey i have been on to finding myself#because all the books and content that ive consumed have had such a positive impact on thinking more complexly about the world#but since it seems a lot of people go through this in middle school or high school i feel so behind#i didnt realize i was ace (or even just that i was “different”) until i was a sophomore in high school#and even then it was just hearing the word and saying oh i guess thats me#and it wasnt until about a year or two ago that i really started feeling the need to learn more and be more connected#so it seems like ive been growing at a much slower pace than other people around me#and i know everyone grows and learns at different paces and theres nothing wrong with it#but it can be very disheartening to see and feel that disparity between yourself and your peers#and because a lot of people do their growth at a younger age and because we lose those age groups as we become “adults”#it becomes so much harder to find people your age who are on the same journey to be able to talk through things with#and yes there is the internet which is so wonderful in connecting people from all over the world#but theres just something so special about being sleep deprived and just pondering existence with people you care about#on top of the fact that im just genuinely terrified of accidentally hurting people by saying the wrong thing on the internet#anyway what a tag rant that im sure nobody will see
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smileysuh · 5 months
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crossroads
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🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?
tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, big dick Mingyu, creampie, oral (f/m receiving), blow job, deep throating, hand job, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, breast worship, nipple pinching, nipple licking, panty kink, eating pussy through panties, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, dirty talk, ‘sir’, dom!Wonwoo, switch!mingyu, blindfold/sensory deprivation, voyeurism, listening to your neighbour have sex, masturbation, reader reads erotica, mutual masturbation, slight dacryphilia, blindfold/sensory deprivation, inklings of humiliation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby. (Mingyu’s) gyu. (Wonwoo’s) sir. 
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.8k
🍭 aus. Biker!meanie, booktok!reader, neighbours!au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. This was not supposed to be this long. I don’t know how this happened. 
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Prologue 
“Who keeps messaging you?” your cousin asks, trying to act nonchalant as he sips his margarita, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stare at your phone.
“The Harley dude,” you sigh, quickly reading the text message.
“The guy who missed your first date because he was napping?” Jeonghan nearly chokes on his drink, setting it down in favor of flashing you a judgemental look.
“Yeah, the same guy who also tried to rebook our first date as a group ride night with all his friends,” you roll your own eyes at the stupidity of men. While the idea is fun, it’s not the way to get to know someone new. 
Jeonghan lets out a low whistle. “Sheesh.”
“You can say that again.” You set your phone down, grabbing at your bellini, and relaxing against the patio chair, trying to soak up the sunshine in an effort to calm yourself.
“Well? What did he say?” your cousin presses.
“He said his entire week is free if I want to meet up.”
“And what did you say?” 
“Nothing.” You tip your head back, letting out a contented breath. “He had two chances, I’m not about to give him a third.”
“Summer is almost over,” Jeonghan points out. “I know you wanted to find some hot dude with a motorcycle and ride off into the sunset. You’re getting low on time.”
“Honestly, Hannie? This Jeon guy is not worth it.”
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One
After a long winter, it’s finally getting warm enough that you can open your apartment windows and enjoy the fresh air. Trees are beginning to blossom, birds are singing songs that act as white noise while you sit at your dining table completing the last few emails for your remote job.
As you’re finishing up your very last correspondence of the day, new noises join in with the robbins and wrens. These noises, however, are nowhere near as pleasant.
There’s a banging outside your door, a few thumps, and a distinctly male voice cursing. 
Living in a fairly quiet apartment complex, these sorts of sounds aren’t something you’re used to, and they can only mean one thing; your landlord finally found new tenants for the two-bedroom next door that’s been vacant for over a month. 
With a sigh, you close your laptop, wrapping your sweater tightly around your body as you venture toward your door. You can’t help the curiosity bubbling inside of you, and after another deep breath, you decide to take a peak into the hallway beyond.
Two men are struggling to get a couch through the doorway into unit 317. You stay silent, watching the way one man’s biceps bulge with each maneuver. His hair is on the longer side, dark strands licking and curling at his throat, which is covered in a light sheen of sweat from the effort of moving. 
“Come on Cheol, we’re almost there,” he encourages the man holding up the other end of the sofa. 
“Fuck you, Mingyu,” the other says, stepping back into the apartment and out of your view.
You wait patiently, and after a minute or so, the pretty man moves into the hallway again, giving you a full view of his face. He lets out a deep breath, shaking out his muscular arms- that’s when his eyes meet yours, and you swear your heart skips a beat in your chest.
His mouth curves into a wide grin. “Hi! Sorry if we bugged you with the noise- that couch was not making moving easy.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him quickly. “You must be my new neighbours.” Your gaze shifts past him to the second man, who has appeared in the hallway too.
“Nah- I mean, I am, but this is Cheol, he’s just a friend,” the pretty man tries to explain, stopping in front of you. He wipes his hand along his jean leg, then holds it out to you, “I’m Mingyu.”
You allow him to shake your hand. Despite his attempt to wipe some of the sweat away, his palm is still a little clammy, although, you’re shocked to find that the physical contact isn’t unpleasant. 
You tell him your name, watching Cheol trudge past you to the elevator. “So if that guy isn’t your roommate, who is?”
“My buddy Wonwoo. He’s actually visiting family in Korea right now, won’t be moving in till the end of the month.”
“I see,” you nod. “Well, welcome to the building.” 
“Thanks,” Mingyu beams again. “If all our neighbours are as friendly as you, I think we’ll like it here.”
“If I’m being honest, we’re a quiet building, lots of us are kind of reclusive,” you try to explain, choosing your words carefully. 
You hear Cheol let out a chuckle as he waits for the elevator, and you wonder what he’s found so funny.
“Quiet,” Mingyu repeats, letting out a breath. “Noted. We’ll do our best not to be a disruption.”
You want to believe him, but something in his grin tells you not to. 
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Two 
It’s been about a month and a half since Mingyu moved in. You’ve not seen him, or his roommate, although, you have heard them through your shared wall a few times. One of them - Wonwoo you’re guessing- is pretty into video games, because yelled lines like ‘I’m trying to revive you, dipshit!’ and ‘stop fucking dying so much then!’ have irritated you and interrupted your soft girl movie nights. 
From what you can tell, Mingyu’s elusive friend who was visiting Korea is now sharing his bedroom wall with you, and at two AM on a Tuesday night, your suspicion is confirmed. You wake to noises that aren’t gamer screams, they’re screams of pleasure. 
Muffled cries of “harder, daddy!” and “please!” have your skin tingling as you shift under your duvet, feeling suddenly very hot. 
As you lay there and listen to the sound of a headboard beginning to hit the wall, you try to decide if you’re annoyed, or horny. The tingling between your thighs, and the heat along your neck makes you think it might be a combination of both.
Part of you wants to bang your fist against the wall, but you’re much too shy to risk any sort of confrontation. Instead, you simply lay there, fighting the need to slip your hand down your sleeping shorts.
You figure the sex will be over soon, but five minutes stretches into fifteen. The woman’s cries have stopped, but the low thumping of a bedframe against the wall has only gotten more intense. 
You’re no stranger to kinky shit- you’re an avid reader of smut afterall, and being a voracious reader, your mind comes up with reasons why the girl may have stopped begging. Had Wonwoo put something in her mouth to shut her up? Panties perhapse? Or had he flipped her into doggy position, pressing a hand to the back of her head to force her face against the pillows?
If Mingyu had been hot, his best friend must be sexy too- guys like that travel in packs, and Cheol hadn’t been bad on the eyes either. You imagine a faceless man, muscled and gorgeous, railing some girl not four feet away from you, with only a wall keeping you from seeing the perverse act. You feel dirty, like a voyeur, and you’re equal parts relieved and saddened when the noise finally stops. 
You sit in silence, listening to your own heavy breaths for a few minutes, wondering if the sounds will pick up again.
They don’t, and soon, you’re drifting off into a lusty sleep.
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Three 
You’ve been awoken to the sounds of sex three times now. The idea of approaching the property manager to file a noise complaint has been on your mind, but you can’t find it within yourself to make waves.
Due to all of this, when you finally bump into Mingyu in the building’s shared laundry room, you see it as the perfect chance to quietly resolve the issue without causing trouble. 
He’s dressed in gym shorts and a black muscle shirt that shows off his expansive shoulders as he moves wet clothes into the dryer. Standing in the doorway of the laundry room, you’re once again struck by how beautiful your new neighbour is.
With a deep breath to find courage, you appraoch him, going for the washing machine next to his. “Hi,” you greet him.
“Oh, hey neighbour,” Mingyu grins, pausing what he’s doing to look you up and down.
You’re hyper aware of the sleeping shorts that hardly cover your legs, and the sweater you’d tossed on does little to hide the fact that you’re currently braless. Even so, if you don’t bring up the noises now, you’re not sure when you’ll get another chance.
“Hey, do you uh…” your words come out quiet, and you try to raise your voice a little, wanting to sound confident, “do you think you could ask your roommate and his girlfriend to keep it down?” 
“Huh?” Mingyu’s brows furrow in confusion.
“The person whose room is next to mine,” you try to explain. “They’ve been kind of loud with uh… a girl, recently.”
“Oh!” You can practically see the lighbulb go off in Mingyu’s eyes. “Sorry, you said girlfriend, and that part stumped me. The last time was about a week ago, yeah?”
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry, I already talked to him a few days ago. Told him to get his fuck buddies to keep it down- they’re annoying, huh? I thought I was the only one losing sleep over it.”
“Definitely not the only one,” you let out a small laugh. “If I’m being honest, I was considering talking to the property manager about it, but I don’t like to cause issues, so I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”
“We’re for sure on the same page,” Mingyu assures you. “Thanks for not talking to the manager about this- hey, listen, what if I give you my number, and if it happens again, you just have to text me and I’ll go bang on his door or something?”
“I’d appreciate that,” you grin, watching him pull out his phone so he can grab your digits. “Honestly, I work from home, and for the most part, you guys have been pretty great neighbours.”
“Ooh, one of those post covid remote jobs,” Mingyu nods in understanding. “I mean, I’m out during the days usually, I work at a tattoo shop across town, and Wonwoo sleeps most of the time so he can be awake for his evening bar job.”
“That actually kind of makes sense,” you admit. “I never see you guys around.” 
“Well…” Mingyu leans against the dryer, flashing you a boyish grin. “We could change that. You could come over sometime.”
Your heart leaps into your throat. From his body language, and the suggestion, you’re pretty sure this gorgeous man is flirting with you. “I, uh…” you swallow thickly, “maybe.” 
“Well, I have your number, and now…” Mingyu types something into his phone and a moment later yours dings, “you have mine. So if you want to take me up on that offer, just shoot me a text.” 
“Okay.” The words comes out kind of shaky, and you internally smack yourself for becoming so shy from this pretty man hitting on you.
With a wink, Mingyu leaves the laundry room, and your thoughts are scattered for the rest of the day.
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Four 
It’s been too long since you’ve seen all your friends from highschool. Soonyoung, Seokmin and Seungkwan are three of the rowdiest guys you know. They love doing bar crawls with you whenever they’re all in town and can find the time. 
Seungkwan lives in another city these days, studying law at a prestigious university. Soonyoung travels the country with dance troup. And Seokmin spends hours every day at the theater practicing for new performances and productions.
They’ve taken you to a bar you’ve never been to, and you’re enjoying the booth style seating. Millennial and old classics are playing through the speakers, and every time a good song comes on, the three men start singing, whether it be Cher, or Britney, or even Kesha. 
You’re a few drinks deep, but they’re even deeper, and it’s gotten to the part of the evening where they want to hear everything about your love life. 
“Okay, book girlie,” Soonyoung slurs, throwing his arm around your shoulders, “spill the beans. Who you fucking?”
You laugh, pushing at his cheek to get his face away from yours. He wreaks of tequila and the Gucci cologne he practically drowns himself in every night before going out. It’s not the most pleasant combination.
“I’m single,” you insist.
“We all know you always have your eye on someone,” Seungkwan insists, leaning over the table to point his finger at you. “Tell us.”
“Okay, maybe there is someone I’m interested in,” you admit.
All three men let out delighted squeals and laughs. “We knew it!” Seokmin exclaims.
“The issue is, he’s my neighbour, and dating in your apartment building can get messy,” you explain. 
“We love messy,” Soonyoung insists. 
“You love messy,” you correct.
“So who’s this hot neighbour?” Seungkwan asks, wanting to dive into the gossip.
“His name is Mingyu.” You let out a sigh. “He’s tall, and handsome, and his arms-”
“Does he have a motorcycle?” Soonyoung interrupts you. “We know you love men with bikes.”
“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But it doesn’t matter. My motorcycle phase was last summer.”
“Baby,” Seungwan frowns dramatically, “Honey, sweetheart- You’re a booktok girl. We all know kinky little sluts like you need their bikertok boy to make their fantasies come true.”
You hate it when Seungkwan reads you to filth like this, and you hate it even more that he’s so right. You’ll always have a soft spot for men on motorcycles- or is it a wet spot?
“Anyways, Mingyu is cute, he gave me his number and invited me over-”
“Bitch, go fuck him!” Soonyoung bellows a little too loudly, and you immediately slap a hand over his mouth, looking around to see if anyone heard him.
That’s when your eyes land on a man behind the bar. His curly dark hair is cute, but when you study his regally handsome face, you realize you recougnize him.
“Fuck,” you whisper, immediately lifting your drink to hide behind it.
“What?” Seungkwan turns in his seat. “The bartender?”
“Babes, he’s been checking you out all night,” Soonyoung grins, cuddling closer to you.
It’s only Seokmin who studies you and asks, “Do you know him?”
“The bartender?” Seungkwan scoffs, as if it’s a stupid idea, although, when he turns to look at you again, his jaw drops. “Fuck, you do know him! Girl, spill!” 
“Do you guys remember that Harley dude from the summer? Jeon? The one I ghosted after he missed our first date then suggested a ride night with all his friends to make up for it?” you ask, lowering your voice and continuing to hide behind the glass in your hand.
“Shit, that’s the Harley dude?” Seokmin’s eyes widen in realization. 
“Fuck me, this is awkward,” you groan, taking a large sip from your drink. “Can we get out of here?”
“Babes, we just ordered another round,” Seungkwan points out, lifting his full Gin and Tonic to show you. 
“Don’t be like this,” Soonyoung pouts. “Harley man is a bartender, so what? He can’t ruin our night. Maybe he doesn’t even recougnize you!”
“If he’s been staring, I bet you he does,” Seungkwan points out, taking a swig of his drink.
“Thanks, Seungkwan,” you say sarcastically, “that really makes me feel so much better.”
Your friend only grins, raising his glass. 
You do your best to be calm, but you can’t control the racing of your heart. Your gaze keeps shifting to Jeon, and then, the night takes a turn for the worse: Mingyu walks in, followed closely by Cheol, and some other guy you haven’t met.
The group walks right up to the bartop, and you note the way Mingyu grins at Jeon, holding out a hand so the two can do a slight hug over the counter before the three men take their seats. 
“Shit,” you whisper, downing your drink. 
“What?” Soonyoung also whispers, following your gaze.
“That’s my neighbour,” you explain. “This is not good.”
“Looks like they know each other,” Seungkwan points out.
“Again,” you sigh, “not helping. Fuck me, I need to go to the bathroom.”
You stand abruptly from the table, darting off to the space at the back of the bar. In the ladies room, you splash your hands with cold water, trying to chase away the fire that licks across your skin. Your heart is still thundering in your chest, and deep breaths don’t do anything to help. 
You feel like you’re caged in- like there’s no way out of this bar without running into Jeon and Mingyu. 
You’re not sure how long you stay in the washroom, trying to relax- you give your friends time to finish their drinks, and you’re hoping that when you exit, you can simply escape with them, using the three men as a human shield.
When you exit the bathroom, however, you run directly into Mingyu, who’s just coming out of the men’s room.
“Sorry-” he apologizes, only to look you up and down. “No way! Neighbour? Damn, I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“Oh, hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing a smile.
“How’s your night going?” You usually like Mingyu’s happy energy, but right now, it feels nearly overwhelming.
“Good, you?”
“My night’s going great- hey, listen, I want you to meet someone!” Mingyu grabs your hand, and before you can stop him, your large neighbour is dragging you back out into the bar. 
As he tugs you closer and closer to Jeon, pieces begin to click in your head, and when you reach the bartop, you’re not even surprised when Mingyu says, “This is Wonwoo, my roommate!” He had mentioned Wonwoo worked at a bar, after all. 
“Hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing get another smile.
Jeon - or Wonwoo - looks you up and down. God, he’s even more handsome than his Tinder pictures had made him out to be. But fuck, you’ve heard him fucking other girls through your bedroom wall over three times- and you’d ghosted him-
“Hi,” Wonwoo echoes, his voice all deep and sexy in the loud noise of the bar.
You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. 
“Wonwoo, this is our neighbour, you know, the one I mentioned.” There’s an insinuation in Mingyu’s tone, and the fact that he’d talked about you to Wonwoo has your stomach erupting into erratic butterflies that threaten to catch in your throat.
“Right.” Wonwoo’s tone is so unimpressed, and you’d bet your life the man is holding a grudge over the whole ghosting thing.
“Wait, Y/N, you should join us for a drink!” Mingyu suggests.
“Actually, I’m here with friends, I should really get back to them,” you say awkwardly, tugging your hand away from Mingyu’s grip. “Thanks for the offer though.”
“Right, yeah, okay.” God, Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy, but then he flashes you a smile and your heart melts. “Listen, text me, just to let me know when you get home safe.”
“You got it,” you agree quickly, giving him a tight lipped grin before you nearly stumble over yourself to get back to your table. “Guys, we have to leave, now.” 
“What happened?” Seokmin asks, clearly concerned while Seungkwan sighs and pulls out a wad of cash.
“They do know each other,” Soonyoung blurts out.
“Turns out Harley Jeon isn’t just Harley Jeon, he’s also Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate,” you quickly explain, grabbing your jacket to wrap around your body.
Soonyoung’s eyes light up in realization. “And they were roommates,” he whispers.
“And I ghosted one of them!” you whisper yell back. “The same one who I’ve heard fucking multiple girls through my wall over three times!”
Seungkwan lets out a chuckle. “Girl. You’re fucked.” 
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Five 
Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “You know, when Seokmin texted me to come check on you for some Grade-A Tea, I never expected any of this.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “I know I’m in deep shit.”
“Nah, you’re good,” your cousin assures you, standing and stretching. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I wish I had the confidence in myself that you have in me,” you breathe, also rising to your feet. Jeonghan’s been over for a while now, and after giving him all the gossip, you feel like you could use some time to yourself. 
“You’ll get there,” your cousin assures you, heading toward your front door so he can slip into his shoes. “Keep me updated.”
“I will. Thanks for coming to see me.”
“Of course,” Jeonghan opens your front door, stepping into the hallway before pulling you into a hug. “If I didn’t have a board meeting tomorrow, you know I’d stay longer.”
“I know. But I’m good,” you assure him. “I think I’ll sleep early tonight. This week has been a lot.”
“Sounds like it,” he nods, releasing you in favor of heading over to the elevator. Before he can press the button, however, the elevator dings, the doors opening. Wonwoo steps out. He stops infront of Jeonghan, giving him a once over before his eyes shift to you, still standing by the doorway to your unit.
Then, to your annoyance, Wonwoo grins, shaking his head and brushing past your cousin.
Jeonghan gets into the elevator, the doors closing, and as Wonwoo walks past you, you can’t help but make waves. “What?”
“I never said anything.” Wonwoo stops in front of you, hands nonchalantly tucked in the leather pockets of his jacket.
“You gave me a look,” you insist. 
He shrugs. “It’s just gonna break Gyu’s heart to know you already have a man in your life, that’s all.”
You roll your eyes. “That was my cousin.”
“Sure it was.”
“It was!” You can’t help the way your voice is raising.
“And the guys at the bar?”
“Friends!” 
“Right.” 
He turns to leave, and you swallow thickly, mind reeling for a comeback.
“I just don’t see how you can be making assumptions about me,” you state.
Wonwoo stops, gaze finding you again. “What do you mean?”
“Just that.. I mean… I’ve heard you fucking girls, mister Jeon, if that’s even your real name!” 
He actually grins at your words, eye brows raising in surprise. “Girl, actually, singular. It was one girl. A recent hookup. She’s not into gags like the others, they’re generally pretty quiet for you, aren’t they?” 
You’re so shocked by what he’s just said that you physically take a step back, jaw dropping.
“Oh, and by the way,” Wonwoo heads to his door, reaching into his jacket for his keys. “Mister Jeon is what people call my father, I’m sure you know that I prefer to be called Daddy.” 
He unlocks his apartment, flashing you a wink before he heads inside. You stand in your doorway for a solid ten seconds, processing his words before you go back to your room to scream into a pillow.
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Six
After the events of the week, and work on top of that, a nap the moment you're done sending the last emails of the day is exactly what you need.
Birds are singing outside, your window ajar. The warming air carries the scent of blossoming buds, and you relax against your pillow, enjoying the feeling of your duvet against your skin.
You’re just drifting off when a loud engine jolts you back into consciousness. You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling. 
You’ve been a motorcycle fan for long enough to know the sound of one when you hear it, and as the revving continues, you’d bet your right hand that some jackass is doing burnouts in the alley outside.
It’s probably some enthusiastic douchebag who has finally brought their motorcycle out of the garage after a long winter-
Actually, wait. You know an asshole with a motorcycle. An asshole with a Harley to be exact. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. 
God, you hate that man.
Grabbing your pillow, you burry your head under it, wishing for the sounds to stop. 
Surprisingly, soon enough, you hear the motorcycle take off, with two more engines revving up to follow. 
Your apartment complex used to be so nice and peaceful.
It used to be.
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Seven
After your nap had been interrupted, you’d trudged around for a while. It’s the evening now, and you have no energy to cook, so you’ve ordered takeout. When you head down to the lobby to  grab your food, you bump into Mingyu.
“Look at us, always running into each other,” he grins, watching you step by him to bend down and pick up your takeout.
“Seems like a common theme,” you agree, letting out a sigh.
“You good, neighbour? You look tired.”
“You want the truth?” you ask, straightening to look at him.
“Always.” He holds the door open for you to come back into the apartment complex. 
As you head to the elevator, you choose your words carefully, after all, you’re pretty sure Wonwoo was culprit behind the motorcycle incident two hours ago. “I just… I was trying to have a nap after work, been tired lately, and some guy was revving his motorcycle outside my window. He woke me up and I was too irritated to go back to sleep.”
As you enter the elevator, you notice Mingyu’s skin turning pink, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “Actually… uh… I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have a Harley, but uh, I got a new sportsbike, and that was me doing burnouts to test it out a little.”
Your heart lurches into your throat, your jaw dropping. When it comes to your neighbours in 317, you always find yourself conflicted. You’re annoyed at him, but at the same time, the fact that he also has a motorcycle makes this ten out of ten man even ten times hotter-
“Oh,” you look down at your takeout. 
“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “It won’t happen again- you won’t tell our building manager it was me right? Like, we’re good?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” you let out a breath. “I mean, technically quiet hours don’t start till ten pm, and this was like, five, so I guess it’s my own fault for trying to nap so early.”
“Not your fault,” he assures you. “You definitely look like you need some rest- if it helps, I promise no burnouts near the apartment.” Mingyu even crosses his heart, and your body relaxes, shoulders slumping as you crack a smile.
“Okay, that would be nice.”
The elevator dings as it reaches your floor, and the two of you exit together, closing the short distance to your door. 
“Your takeout smells good,” Mingyu notes. “Maybe you could put yourself in a food coma and pass out for a bit, I promise there will be no noise issues tonight.”
“That sounds nice, actually,” you admit.
“Also uh… you know, you still haven’t taken me up on that offer about coming over sometime.”
When you look over at Mingyu, you find him leaning against the hallway wall, staring down at you with soft puppy dog eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy-” you search for an excuse. “Also, I mean, I don’t know if Wonwoo would be good with me coming over.”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Mingyu shrugs, which is when you realize that Wonwoo must not have told Mingyu anything about your failed dates or the ghosting. 
“He just didn’t seem to like me very much when you introduced us,” you blurt out, grasping for straws.
“He always has a resting bitch face, don’t take it personally,” Mingyu assures you. “Seriously, come over sometime, we don’t bite.”
Mingyu might not, but you get the sneaking suspicion that Wonwoo does.
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Eight
The reverse harem adult romance your reading had drawn you in when you’d first opened it, but as time goes by, your mind keeps wandering when you reach the sex scenes. 
Threesomes have you imagining Wonwoo and Mingyu, and try as you might, you can’t shake the image from your head.
It doesn’t help that they fit the character personalities, one puppylike lover, and one more stoic and dominant. You can’t help but wonder what the two would be like in bed, and with a groan of frustration, you slot your bookmark between the pages and set the novel down on the bed next to you.
As you sit there, deep in thought, you think about what Mingyu had said about owning a Harley. 
That’s when you realize, last summer, when Wonwoo had suggested a Harley ride night as a date- if you had gone with him, would you have met Mingyu?
You decide that Mingyu definitely would have been there.
It’s interesting how the domino effect works- or maybe this is invisible string theory; the idea that, you can pass someone, or have missed chances, but one way or another, that person will always end up in your life.
What would have happened if you’d met Mingyu that way? 
What would have happened if you’d met Wonwoo that way? 
At the moment, there’s no question as to which of the two neighbours you prefer. Mingyu is happy and welcoming, he always has a smile, and you could see yourself having a great relationship with him- if things were to take a turn that way.
But on the flip side, Wonwoo is more similar to the type you’ve dated in the past.
If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. 
How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?
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Nine
You’re outside your apartment waiting for an Uber when two familiar men on motorcycles pull up in front of you. 
Wonwoo’s on his Harley. It’s all black, and although you’re not very well verses with motorcycle types, you’re pretty sure it’s a Fat Boy or a Street Bob- but as you stare at the wheels, you begin to lean toward Street Bob. 
Mingyu, in contrast, is on a red Kawasaki Ninja, which is evident by the name on the side. He lifts up his visor when he comes to a stop two feet away. “Hey, neighbour,” he greets you. “Waiting for someone?”
“An Uber is picking me up.”
“An Uber?” Mingyu looks around. “Where are you headed?”
“A family thing. We’re going to be drinking so I figured I shouldn’t drive,” you explain.
“Good idea,” he nods, then, without skipping a beat, he asks, “Wanna ride?”
You gaze shifts from Mingyu to Wonwoo, and you can practically see the Harley rider roll his eyes. With an aggressive rev of his engine, Wonwoo bolts off, leaving you and Mingyu in his dust.
“Uh, don’t you two have plans?” you ask.
“We did, but we were just going for a ride. I can take you where you need to be and meet him later,” Mingyu shrugs. “Seriously, don’t mind him.”
You’ve been on a motorcycle once before, and you know enough to understand that the short romper and light spring jacket you’re wearing is not enough to protect you on the back of a bike. And that’s the least of your worries. “I don’t have a helmet-”
Mingyu begins to undo his, and you watch in shock as he pulls it off, shaking out his hair and offering you the red head gear. “Take mine.”
“Isn’t it illegal to ride without one?”
“We’ll be fast- but not dangerous, I’ll be good, I promise. Where are we going?”
With a deep breath, you pull up your Aunt’s house on your phone’s map app, showing it to Mingyu. 
“I can get you there in ten minutes, easy,” he says. 
“This is not a good idea,” you warn, although you accept the helmet. 
“Cancel your Uber,” Mingyu urges softly. “Let me do this for you.”
With one last sigh, you cancel your ride, then, you allow Mingyu to help you onto the back of his bike. 
“Have you ever been on one of these before?” he asks.
“Once,” you admit, adjusting the helmet on your head before you tentatively wrap your arms around Mingyu’s large body. 
“Just hold on tight.”
“Take care of me,” you retort.
Mingyu grins. “Always.”
A moment later, he’s revving his engine, and the two of you take off on his bike, your clothes whipping around and contorting flat to the curves of your form.
You hold Mingyu tighter, and he takes one hand off his handlebars to rest it over yours for a second, giving you a reassuring squeeze.
When he pulls onto the main road, Mingyu is true to his word about not being dangerous. He doesn’t lane split or push the bike too hard. When you come up to traffic, he waits patiently, resting his elbow on your knee as if this is something the two of you have done together a hundred times before.
You become so lost in how attracted you are to Mingyu- how you have to hug him tight when he accelerates, that the trip is over before you know it. He pulls up to your aunts house, turning to offer you a hand so you can get off the Ninja. 
Your legs feel wobbly as you step on solid ground, and Mingyu helps you with the chin clasp of the helmet, removing it easily. 
“Thanks for being my backpack,” he smiles.
“Thanks for giving me a ride,” you grin back.
“If you want, you can text me when you’re done, and I’ll get you home safe. I’ll even bring a spare helmet this time, and maybe a proper riding jacket for you.”
“That would be really nice actually.”
“You got it, angel,” Mingyu flashes you a wink before he pulls the helmet onto his head. You move to the sidewalk, standing there to watch him as he gives you one last nod and takes off, the engine loud enough to be heard even as he makes it two blocks away in record time.
A low whistle startles you, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing in the driveway. “Damn, that dude was hot.”
“That’s my neighbour,” you sigh.
“Which one?”
“The good one!”
“You should take him up on that offer of hanging out,” Jeonghan suggests.
“And you should keep your nose out of my love life.”
Your cousin simply laughs. “Never going to happen.”
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Ten
The jacket Mingyu brings for you when he picks you up from your family gathering is long enough to be a dress. You struggle with the thick material as you try to get on his bike, and you can see Mingyu grinning from the opening in his full face helmet.
“That’s it,” he encourages you, allowing you to settle behind him.
You pat his thigh when you’re good to go, and the two of you slot down your visors before he takes off.
It’s the late evening now, and being on his bike feels different in the dark. The city lights whip past you, and the lanes are pretty empty for Mingyu to go faster. Now that you’re both in full protective gear, there’s not as much of a need to be safe, although, as you hold tightly to your neighbour, you realize this might be as safe as you’ve ever felt.
You trust Mingyu, in a way that you can’t quite explain. 
As it was before, it’s easy to get lost in the act of being on Mingyu’s motorcycle, and before you know it, he’s pulling into your apartment complex’s underground garage. 
You hate that the ride has ended so quickly, and you hate it even more that you have to let go of Mingyu’s large, warm body. You stand next to the motorcycle while he gets off of it, and you wait patiently for him to take off his helmet before he helps you with your own.
“Do you have plans for the rest of the night?” Mingyu asks while the two of you walk toward the elevator.
“Not really,” you admit. In fact, you’re feeling a little tired. You hadn’t drank as much at the family dinner as you thought you would, and sleep sounds pretty good right about now.
“Do you wanna come see my place?”
“I really shouldn’t-”
“If you’re worried about Wonwoo, he went to work before I came to pick you up,”  Mingyu tells you. “Come on, just one drink or something. Don’t you wanna compare your one bedroom to my two bedroom?”
You are curious to see what sort of decorations these two men have- they’re mid to late twenties at best, and you love to laugh. 
“Fine, one drink,” you let out a breath as you enter the elevator, turning to look up at Mingyu. “Why do you care so much if I come over? Like, honestly?”
Mingyu meets your gaze, fiddling with the helmet in his hand. “I guess maybe… because I like you.” He shrugs. “You’re a good neighbour, and an even better backpack. You look cute in my jacket- why wouldn’t I want to get to know you better?”
“That’s a good answer,” you admit with a laugh.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins. 
When the two of you exit the elevator, you follow Mingyu past your apartment to his own door. You watch the way he pulls out his keys, fumbling a little to get into his place. He lets you enter first, and you step into the foreign home with a curious gaze.
You slip out of your shoes, undoing his jacket around your shoulders as you wander further into the apartment. The two men are cleaner than you would have expected. The furniture is minimalist, and mostly cream coloured- which isn’t a shade you would have thought would match the motorcycle riding, black wearing men. You wonder how the couch in the den is so well kept- there’s not a hint of stains on the nicely textured cover, no beer or food-
There’s no dirty dishes in the sink, no miscellaneous bowl of car keys and other shit that guys always tend to carry in their pockets.
In fact, this place almost looks like a ‘girl sanctuary,’ the type of pintrest board apartment inspo you’d find online. 
“What do you think?” Mingyu asks, coming up behind you and helping you take off his jacket.
“It’s really nice,” you say honestly. “Not what I expected.”
“I’m a bit of a neat freak,” he admits with a chuckle.
So he’s big, muscled, kind, rides a motorcycle, and he knows how to do housewife cleaning duties? How did you ever manage to score a jackpot like him for a neighbour? 
“Anyways, take a seat on the couch, I’ll grab some beer. You drink beer, right?”
“Sure.” You move to settle into the sofa, and Mingyu brings over two cans of lager from the fridge, cracking one open before he hands it to you. 
“Cheers,” he grins, gently clinking his can against your own. 
You take a sip, focusing on the way Mingyu sits on the other end of the couch, angling his body toward you. “So… you mentioned you work at a tattoo parlour? How did you get into that?”
“I’ve always been into art,” he explains. “My buddy Cheol was more into tattoos with me, opened up his own shop and encouraged me to apprentice with him after I graduated from uni with my arts degree. I wish there was more to it, but I really just got kind of lucky.”
The list of his good qualities just keeps getting better and better- a university educated man? Yes please.
“I guess, maybe what I’m wondering is why you don’t have any tattoos yourself?” you ask, looking at the beautiful unblemished skin shown off by his muscle shirt.
Mingyu laughs, also gazing down at his arms. “Would you judge me if I told you I’m scared of needles.”
“That’s cute,” you grin, sipping your beer. 
“You’re cute,” he retorts, mirroring your motion and trying to hide his smile behind the can in his hand. “Anyways, you said you’d been on a motorcycle before?”
“Yeah, just once.”
“Tell me about it?”
“There’s nothing much to say,” you admit. “Went on a date with a guy, he mentioned he had a sports bike, offered to take me for a ride, so I said yes.”
“So…” Mingyu taps his fingers along his beer can, “you like guys with bikes?”
You let out a laugh. “Maybe.” 
“I’m feeling better and better about my odds,” Mingyu smiles. 
“Your odds are very good,” you tell him. Now it’s your turn to drink in an effort to hide the massive grin on your face.
“Yeah? I was a little worried, I mean, I gave you my number and you didn’t text- took a little bit of convincing to get you on my bike, to get you into the apartment- I hope I didn’t overstep anything there.”
“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I can just… be a bit shy sometimes.”
“It’s cute though.”
Your skin heats at the compliment, heart thundering in your rib cage. “What about you? I’m into bikes, are you into cute girls?”
“A hundred percent,” he nods. “They’re my favourite kind.”
“Do you have any experience dating neighbours?”
“No, but I’d like that to change.”
“Do you think being neighbours could complicate things?” you enquire.
“I mean… if I didn’t see you as girlfriend material, then yeah, I’d never turn a neighbour into a hookup, but then again, I’m not huge into hookups to begin with,” Mingyu explains.
“You know… I’m trying to find even one red flag about you, and I’m seriously coming up empty.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
You smile, looking down at your nearly finished beer. “I guess not.”
“How about you? Any red flags?” he asks. 
Aside from the downright pornographic books you read on the daily? “Probably not.”
“Probably not, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “Maybe I should be the one keeping a look out for red, but then again, with rose tinted glasses, red wouldn’t stand out that much to me anyways.” 
You’d not expected your night to turn out like this. You’d figured it would be a nice family dinner, some drinking, then an Uber home and sleep. Instead, you’ve been on Mingyu’s bike twice, worn his jacket, his helmet- and now you’re here in his house, with your hot neighbour flirting with you in the most wholesome way-
In your tired state, you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. Your shyness is taking over- the fear of the unknown, of making a misstep, clouding your enjoyment of the peaceful space Mingyu has created in his apartment.
“Listen, don’t take this the wrong way,” you sigh, finishing your beer, “But I’m really tired-”
“Yeah, no worries, I said just one beer and it looks like you’re done,” Mingyu is quick to down the rest of his, reaching out to take your can so he can move to the kitchen. He places the empties under his sink, and you follow, keeping your distance.
“Thank you for this though. I know we didn’t talk for that long, but I feel like I know you better,” you admit. 
“I’ve still got a lot of questions for you,” he grins. “But I’ll save those for another time. I’m not about to get in the way of a girl and her beauty sleep.”
“I appreciate that.” The two of you head to his door, and you slip your shoes on.
“Can I give you a goodbye hug or something?” Mingyu suggests. “It would feel weird letting you leave without one.”
You nod, allowing Mingyu to pull you close to his chest. He’s so tall, your cheek pressed tight to his well defined pecs- and fuck, he smells good. This isn’t the overpowering Gucci type cologne that Soonyoung wears, it’s a more muted, spicy yet clean scent. It’s the type of scent that encourages you to take a deep breath, your body relaxing as your neighbour hugs you.
“Thanks for coming over,” Mingyu whispers.
When you go to pull away, you find yourself tilting your head to look up at him. Your eyes meet, and it feels as if you’re hanging in a moment frozen in time. Your breath catches when his gaze dips down to your mouth, and you know what’s coming next.
His hand cups your cheek, stroking your skin, and he gives you ample opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. You simply stare into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, waiting for him to make the move that you know is going to capture your heart completely.
When his lips finally touch yours, that sense of relief washes over you again. You shift in his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. Mingyu lets out a soft sigh of contentment, parting his mouth ever so slightly so he can lick at your lower lip.
You mirror the motion, your tongues gently clashing. 
You’ve met some guys who try to force their way into your mouth, who try to dominate you- but Mingyu isn’t like that. He’s soft and fluid, reacting to your movements moreso than anything else. His hands slip down to your hips, holding you close while you kiss each other.
No first kiss has ever felt this natural, and like with riding the bike, it becomes so easy to get lost in your neighbour.
When you finally break away, you’re both breathing heavily. You can taste the beer on your lips, and it makes you release a small laugh, giddy joy surging through your entire body.
“That was…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “wow.”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Wow.” 
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Eleven
It’s been two weeks since you started getting to know Mingyu better. You’ve gone on motorcycle dates, stopped at food trucks while enjoying the sunshine of spring, and when Wonwoo’s not around, Mingyu has invited you over for movie nights.
While there’s been lots of kissing, and a growing desire for more, the two of you haven’t gone much farther than second base. You kind of like taking things slow with Mingyu, he’s very good at not applying any pressure, and you adore that about him.
You’re hanging out in your apartment when Mingyu calls you, asking if you have any garlic he can borrow for his meal plan. Part of you thinks it’s a little late for dinner, but you agree anyways. 
Sometimes you think he comes up with this sort of thing just to see you, stealing kisses at your door- but this time, when he comes over to grab ingredients, he doesn’t simply wait in the hallway.
“Can I come in?” he asks, peering at your apartment beyond.
“Come in?” you repeat.
“Yeah, I mean, you’ve seen my place, and I haven’t really gotten to see yours yet.” He sounds nonchalant, but you can tell that your personal space - the way you conduct yourself in your own home - is something that makes him curious.
“Okay.” You step away from the door. “Come on in.”
Mingyu bends down to kiss you as he steps over the threshold, and you grin against his lips, enjoying the way his hands softly grab your waist. 
“I’m guessing you didn’t really need garlic, did you?” you tease.
“Nope, I ate dinner after work.” Mingyu takes his shoes off while you close the door behind him, and he looks around your apartment. “It’s nice in here.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you want to give me a tour?” he asks.
You let out a giggle. “Okay.” 
You’ve never given a formal tour of your apartment before, but you do your best, showing him through the kitchen and the small living room area. You’ve got certain knick knacks that are special to you, and you explain them to Mingyu while he listens with a smile.
Finally, you make it to your bedroom. Before you can even open your mouth to say anything, Mingyu’s arms are wrapping around you, his chest pressed to your back, lips on your throat.
He already knows your sweet spots, and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head to make things easier for him.
“Gyu…”
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers in your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe.
“No.”
You hadn’t expected this tonight, but you’re at a point now where you don’t want to wait. Mingyu isn’t the type to use you and leave you. He’s made his intentions clear, and the sexual chemistry between the two of you is undeniable. 
You find yourself turning in Mingyu’s embrace, cupping his cheek so you can draw his lips to yours. He lets out an immediate groan of satisfaction, and it goes straight to your core, which flutters with delight. You kiss him deeply, pouring all your wants and desires into the meeting of your mouths.
Then your hands find the bottom of his shirt, and before you know it, you’re stripping the fabric from Mingyu’s body and tracing your hands over the muscles you love so much.
His body jolts when you tease your nails across his lower abdomen, and it prompts Mingyu to reach down, cupping your ass and easily lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his hips, tongues clashing in a lusty battle as he carries you to your bed.
Your hands trace along his strong shoulders as he lays you onto the mattress, looking down at you with blown pupils. He’s breathing heavily already, and you can see the bulge of his cock through his jeans. 
You’ve grinded against him before, sitting on his lap on his couch while he rubs your tits through your comfortable evening sweaters, so you know how big Mingyu is, but knowing he’s about to be inside of you makes your heart race in an entirely different way.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mingyu asks again, straightening to look down at you.
“Uh huh,” you sit up, meeting his gaze. Then you reach out, undoing his buckle while keeping steady eye contact. 
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, chest heaving with each breath. “You don’t have to-”
“Don’t have to what?” you tease, moving onto the zipper, which you tug down roughly.
“Don’t have to-” he swallows thickly. “I want to make you feel good.” 
“What if you do that after?” you suggest. “I want to make you feel good first.” 
“Fuck, Angel, okay.” 
“Yeah?” You raise a brow at him, hooking your fingers in his jeans and briefs.
“Yeah,” he nods quickly. “Do whatever you want- whatever you want.”
You tug his pants down, allowing them to bag at his knees. You’re already much too focused on the cock in front of you to care about getting him fully undressed.
Your eyes take in Mingyu’s rock hard length. You’re not great with measurements, but you swear he must be seven or eight inches. He’s got a pretty mushroom tip, all flushed and pink. There’s a prominent vein running along the underside of him, and it makes your mouth water.
You haven’t sucked cock in a while, but you’d read a very good erotica about it last night, and you know exactly what to do. 
Grabbing the base of him, you angle Mingyu’s cock slightly upward, running your tongue along the vein.
“Shit,” Mingyu groans, hands flying to your head. He doesn’t apply any pressure, simply strokes you as you take the tip past your lips, suckling on it and twirling your tongue. “You’re- fuck, you’re good at this.”
You let out a happy hum, and the vibration makes him twitch, pushing him further into your mouth. 
Your eyes are closed now, and you allow yourself to enjoy the act of pleasuring Mingyu. After being so patient with you over the past few weeks, he deserves it. The sounds he’s letting out are more than enough encouragement for you, and soon, your drool begins to drip down to your fingers, making it easier for you to pump his neglected shaft.
There’s no way in Hell you’ll ever be able to fit all of him in your mouth, but unless he’s used to dating women schooled in oral aerobics or some shit, you doubt any of his past lovers have ever achieved that feat either.
Instead, you focus most of your attention on the tip, knowing that the head of his cock is where he’s got a lot of his nerve endings. 
Your tongue dips along his slit, tasting the salty precum. Mingyu moans loudly above you, fingers threading through your hair.
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum too fast,” he warns you.
Part of you wants him to cum, so you go even harder- only for Mingyu to gently pull you off of him.
You blink up at the gorgeous man, pleased to find that he’s flushed. His chest, shoulders, neck and cheeks are all a pretty pink colour, and he’s panting heavily. “Seriously, Angel, I don’t want to cum yet.”
“What if I want you to cum?”
“I’m not making you swallow the first time we sleep together,” Mingyu states, and you can tell that it’s a hard boundary. “And I’m not cumming on you either- I think…” he licks his lips, “I think it’s my turn to make you feel good now.” 
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
Then Mingyu leans down over you, grabbing your shirt and tugging it off. Your pants are discarded next, left on the floor next to his own while he adjusts you on your bed.
He’s left your bra and panties on, and when his lips find yours again, you kind of appreciate that he’s intent on more foreplay.
Your core is aching through the cotton fabric, and your nipples are pressing up toward the cups still confining them. It’s driving you crazy as he kisses you deeply, but then one of his hands reaches up to massage you through your bra, and you let out a sinful whine.
“Take it off,” you whimper, “please.”
Mingyu’s mouth moves from your lips to your throat, and he reaches under you, undoing the clasp. He gently pulls the bra from your form, and his kisses finally make it to your breasts. 
His soft hair is teasing your skin with each kiss, but when his lips wrap around your sensitive nipple, you can’t even find it within yourself to care about the slight ticklish sensation. Mingyu’s got your full attention now, his teeth gently dragging across the hardened bud, making you cry out even louder.
You grab at his broad shoulders, holding onto him for dear life, wriggling under his large form. 
His cock is pressing between your legs, rubbing against your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Fuck, Gyu-” you whimper. “I want you so bad.”
He groans in response, moving to your other breast to pay it as much attention as he had the first. Your neighbour takes his time, and you enjoy every second of it, although you’re absolutely desperate for more.
You want him to take the lead, as you lean more toward a submissive temperament in bed, despite the ballsy way you’d approach sucking his cock for the first time.
You wonder if he’s aching the way you are- if he’s throbbing with need for you the way your pussy is already trying to clench around nothing, anticipating the cock that’s going to split you open in a way that no man ever has before. 
Unable to help yourself anymore, you reach down between your bodies, grabbing his length and pumping him gently. Mingyu groans against your breasts, giving you one last lick before he brings his mouth up to your own again.
“Angel, fuck-” he practically whimpers, thrusting toward your hand. “You’re not ready yet.”
“I’m ready,” you try to assure him.
“Trust me,” Mingyu’s hand slips into your panties, two fingers teasing your core, “As wet as you are, you’re not ready for me.”
“Gyu-” You want to argue, but when he pushes two digits into your core, you realize he’s right. Because even with two fingers, you feel like he’s stretching your tight walls. 
You’re so wet that it makes it easy for Mingyu to begin finger fucking you, his mouth finding your throat so he can kiss your sweet spot desperately while you continue to stroke his cock. 
“Wanna make you cum once,” he groans, “before- fuck, before I take you.”
Your core throbs at his words, and it’s clear from the smile you feel against your skin that Mingyu can feel the way your body is reacting to him.
“Do you like when I talk dirty to you, Angel?” he asks.
“Yeah.” You nod, applying more pressure as you stroke him off.
“You’re already taking my fingers so well, who got you this wet?”
“You did, Gyu,” you whimper.
“Can you cum with just fingers? Or should I rub your sensitive little clit too?”
“My clit-”
His palm immediately finds the bud of nerves, and you let out a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Fuck-” Your hand stops on his cock in favour of grabbing both of his shoulders.
“Like this?” he asks, applying a little more pressure that has you wiggling beneath him. 
“Yeah, just like that,” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair, guiding him to continue kissing your throat while he finger fucks you open.
“Have you wanted this as much as I have?”
“Even more,” you confess.
“Not possible,” he retorts, but by the squelching of your pussy, you’re pretty sure you have him beat. You don’t have the energy or the mental focus to fight him on this, so you simply give in to the pleasure he’s providing you. “So good for me.”
“Gyu-” you whimper, legs shaking as your orgasm builds much too fast in the pit of your stomach.
“Always so good for me,” he continues. “The best backpack. The best neighbour. The best girl-”
You cry out as your orgasm slams into you with no warning. Something about this brand of praise has made you feral, and your core throbs around Mingyu’s fingers as he works you through your high.
“Just like that,” he coos. “So good for me.”
You draw his lips to yours, kissing him breathlessly. He kisses you back, tongue invading your mouth and gently stroking your own.
You’re practically shaking by the time your orgasm is over, and Mingyu pulls his hand out of your panties. “I’m gonna take these off now,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your nose. “And grab a condom.”
“Actually…” You bite at your lip, meeting his gaze. “I’m on birth control.”
He pauses for a moment, and you can see the wheels practically turning in his head. “And… I mean, I know I’m clean-”
“I’m clean too,” you assure him. ‘It’s uh… it’s been a while for me, since I… well, you know.”
You can feel your skin heating at the admission of your near celibacy over the past few months. While you’ve imagined fucking all sorts of heros and villains in your books, the only thing that’s been inside you recently has been your six inch glittery pink dildo.
“And you uh… you want me to cum inside?” Mingyu clarifies.
“Please?”
Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, then he nods. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”
He tugs your panties down your legs, and before you know it, the two of you are completely naked. Mingyu returns between your thighs, his arm muscles bulging as he holds himself over you, one hand grabbing the base of his cock so he can tease himself through your pussy lips.
“Can I convince you to let me eat you out first?”
“I need you,” you tell him, on the verge of crying if you don’t get your way.
“Another time, then.”
“Another time,” you agree with a laugh.
The tip of his cock teases by your clit and it makes your entire body jolt at the sensitivity.
“If it’s uh… if it’s too much,” Mingyu licks his lips, tearing his gaze from your core so he can look you in the eyes, “if it’s too much just let me know and I’ll stop.”
“Gyu, please, I’ll be okay-” you try to assure him, although, you’re not sure if you’re even certain with yourself on this one. There’s a possibility you might not even be able to walk tomorrow, but that’s a risk you’re more than willing to take.
He brings the tip of his cock down to your wet hole, gently pushing into you. The head alone is enough to have you moaning, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and throwing your head back against the pillows.
“Fuck-”
“Yeah,” his breath is hot against your chest, “I know, I’m sorry.”
It’s so endearing that the man is sorry his cock is so big.
“Don’t be sorry,” you let out a laugh, “I’ll just have to get used to you.”
“I like the sound of that,” Mingyu admits, pushing another inch past your wet walls. “Fuck, you have no idea how good you feel.”
“Just wait till you’re fully inside of me,” you whisper, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax your body so you can take him.
Mingyu lets out a groan, hips gently thrusting so he can coat his cock in your wet juices. Each movement has him burying deeper and deeper, earning sounds of pleasure from your lips. 
Your nails claw at his shoulders, but it’s clear that Mingyu is too focused on your pussy to even care or notice. 
“Almost there,” he tells you, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.
Nothing in the world has ever felt like Mingyu, and as his hips finally come flush to your own and he lets out a sigh of relief, you know that there’s no coming back from this. 
You both groan “Fuck” in unison, crashing your lips together a moment later as he begins to move. He starts off slow and gentle, his cock hitting spots so deep that you swear he’s rearranging your guts
You’ve spent years reading erotica, imagining what great sex would really look like, and now, you’re finally experiencing it for yourself.
You’ve never gone completely mind numb for someone before, but with Mingyu, you’re reduced to feral instinct. Sounds like the ones leaving your lips right now are not sounds that have ever come out of you before, and you swear you’ve never been this wet in your life.
Each thrust has Mingyu’s tip rubbing against a place that has you seeing stars, and as he picks up his pace, it’s the most you can do to keep kissing him even while wanting to scream with pleasure.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, and when Mingyu releases a grunt, bringing his mouth to your throat so he can gently bite at your skin, you realize he kind of likes the pain.
The thought has your pussy tingling with even more delight, and Mingyu groans loudly.
“So good,” he moans. “So fucking good.”
“Don’t stop, please, fuck- no one has ever fucked me like this before-”
From the way Mingyu fucks you even harder, it’s clear he also has a praise kink. It’s funny how often praise and pain go hand in hand in pleasure.
You’re thankful for all the books you’ve read about this sort of thing, because they allow you to read Mingyu in a way that you’ve never imagined being able to read someone. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and you adore it.
Mingyu lifts his thigh, angling himself better on the bed so each thrust can go as deep as possible. Your headboard is hitting the wall now, and part of you almost wishes Wonwoo was home so you could annoy him with the sound as much as he’s annoyed you with it.
But at the same time, you’re glad Wonwoo is probably at work. As interesting as being a vouyer is when you’re the one listening in, due to your interesting past with your Harley loving neighbour, you’re not sure how you’d feel about him being privy to this intimate moment you’re sharing with Mingyu.
It’s clear Mingyu is completely present with you. From the sounds escaping him, you know that he’s not thinking about anyone else listening in. His ability to be completely enraptured by you makes it easier for you to get lost in him again, and when you draw his lips to yours, your mind goes pleasantly blank once more.
You’re not sure how long he fucks you like this, but soon, his hand finds your clit again, and you realize he wants you to cum with him.
“Can you give me one more?” he asks, looking down at you with those eyes you’ve come to adore.
“Yeah,” you nod, already feeling the tightening of your abdominal muscles. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm, and it’s way too easy for him to get you there again, especially with the way his cock drags against your inner walls and sets your entire body on fire.
“Fuck, you’re getting so tight, Angel, holy shit-” Mingyu groans deeply, pressing his forehead against your own. Each panting breath, each whimpered moan and grunt that escapes Mingyu has you closer and closer to the edge.
He should seriously consider getting a job reading erotica for money, like on the Quinn app or something, because fuck, no man has ever sounded this sexy before. 
“Come on,” he encourages you, “I won’t be able to last, fuck- you’re gonna cum with me, right?”
“Yeah-”
“You’re close?”
“Yes-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on the way he’s circling your clit. 
“Please, please, please,” he practically begs, bringing his lips to your ear. “Be a good girl and cum for me again, come on, Angel, cum on my cock.”
You explode around him, crying out. Your legs tighten around his hips, and Mingyu’s entire body shudders as he cums with you. You can feel your core throbbing around him, milking him of his cum as he fills you to your absolute limit.
You’re both gasping, holding each other like life lines while orgasms ravage your bodies. It’s Heaven, but from the way your muscles are contracting, it’s also a little bit of Hell. Nothing has felt this good, but you know you’re going to be exhausted in the morning- fuck, you’re already exhausted.
Mingyu’s thrusts have faltered, but he tries to ride you through your highs. Soon, he’s half collapsing on top of you, your sweaty chests pressed together. Then he’s kissing you desperately, and it feels like you’re both pouring a thousand unsaid words into the meeting of your lips.
You make out for a short while, and then Mingyu pulls out of you, reaching for the kleenex box on your nightstand. “Here,” he offers, holding it between your thighs to stop any cum from dripping onto the bed.
“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”
“Good idea.”
Your legs are wobbly when you stand up, and it reminds you of the first time you’d gotten off the back of his bike.
You don’t mind Mingyu making it hard for you to walk, in both ways.
Inside the bathroom, you do your best to use the toilet and clean up the cum. After double checking yourself in the mirror and deciding to brush your teeth for good measure, you head back to your bedroom… which is where you find Mingyu flipping through the most recent book you’ve been reading.
Your heart lurches into your throat, body freezing in the doorway. 
“I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” Mingyu muses, looking up at you.
“What?” you squeak.
“Erotica,” he responds casually. “This seems interesting though.”
You slowly approach the bed, joining Mingyu under the covers while he reaches to put your book back on your nightstand. 
“Uh…” you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
Mingyu laughs, pulling you close to his chest. “Why not? It’s not like I’m judging you.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. Why would I? I think I read somewhere that men like visual porn and women lean towards the written stuff, nothing to be ashamed of.”
He really is the perfect man.
“Plus, I keep seeing shit on tiktok about booktok girls needing their bikertok boy, I don’t mind filling that role for you.” Another nonchalant comment that makes your heart do somersaults. “Although… aren’t all of you booktok girls into masked men and threesomes and shit?”
His words make you hide your face against his chest, shyness overcoming you. 
“Sorry, was that an overstep?” he laughs, rubbing your back with a large, warm hand.
“No, I’m just not used to talking about this, especially not with guys I just slept with.”
“The erotica you read is the fantasy you’re interested in, it would be a shame never to talk about it,” Mingyu muses. “That threesome between the demon knight and the guardian angel seemed pretty interesting.”
“God, you really weren’t supposed to read the book on my nightstand.” You can feel your skin getting hotter with embarrassment with each passing second.
“You’re adorable.” Mingyu cuddles you closer. “Look, I’m just going to put this out there, and if your answer is a no, then it’s a no… If you ever did want to try a threesome, Wonwoo would be into it.”
Now your heart is really racing, and your entire body stiffens in Mingyu’s embrace.
“Shit, my bad for even suggesting it,” Mingyu apologizes immediately.
“It’s not that…” you take a deep breath. If you’re going to continue things with Mingyu, he needs to know about your past - however unimportant it is - with Wonwoo. “Look… I uh… I matched with Wonwoo on a dating app last summer, nothing came out of it, but, I don’t know, I still feel awkward around him.”
Mingyu is silent for a few seconds, and you’re too scared to look up at his face, too scared of the expression you might find there.
“That would actually explain a lot,” Mingyu says finally. 
“It would?”
“Yeah, when I first introduced you two, he was more of an asshole than usual. And that first time I offered you a ride on my bike, he just took off. I kind of chalked it up to him being socially awkward sometimes around cute girls, but, now things make a bit more sense.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“It’s all good,” Mingyu assures you, rubbing your back. “Honestly, I’m pretty tired. How do you feel about the two of us staying here tonight, cuddling till we fall asleep, and talking more about this in the morning?”
You let out a sigh of relief. “That actually sounds perfect.”
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Twelve - Wonwoo
As if listening to you and Mingyu fuck the first time wasn’t enough, Wonwoo had been woken up at three am, and then again at seven to the sound of your moans carrying through his walls.
His room is dark thanks to his black out curtains, but in the blackness of his room, Wonwoo finally snaps. He’d done his best to wear noise cancellers the first time, to put his head under his pillow the second, but now, Wonwoo has lost all of his resolve.
Your small whimpers are simply too hard to resist, and as Wonwoo’s hand slips down to his aching cock, he can’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had worked out with you all those months ago. It could be him that you’re under right now, not his best friend, and that’s a conflicting thought. 
Wonwoo lets out a quiet sigh as he begins to stroke his hard length. He closes his eyes, focusing on the muffled sounds of pleasure that make it through the walls.
When Mingyu had first mentioned that Wonwoo’s escapades had been keeping you up, he’d dismissed it, but now after being woken three times, he can see your annoyance. 
He’ll have to try to go easier on you. 
As Wonwoo works himself up to your moans, he wonders if you’ve ever been in this exact situation; touching yourself while he got off with someone else just a few feet through a wall.
The thought sends a shiver up Wonwoo’s spine and he shifts under his duvet, tossing the fabric off of himself, abdominal muscles clenching with delight.
From the sound of Mingyu’s thrusts and the headboard hitting the wall, Wonwoo’s pretty sure Mingyu is close already- fuck, he would be too if he had you to bury his morning wood into. And from the noises escaping you, Wonwoo knows you’re just as close.
He applies more pressure to his aching cock, speeding up his strokes- Wonwoo wants to cum with you and his roommate, although he’s not quite sure why. 
Sure, once you both cum, his entertainment is over, but there’s a need to be paired with you both, something that goes beyond a voyeuristic act like watching porn, which he could easily switch to when you’re finished if he wanted to prolong the experience.
A muffled “Fuck, I’m close” has Wonwoo’s entire body tensing, and as your moans crescendo, the tightly wound knot inside of him snaps. He lets out a gasp, pumping his cock while ropes of his own cum paint his chest. 
He wishes his hand was you, but the image of you instead of his hand is enough to make another wave of pleasure pass over him. He works himself through it to the point of overstimulation, finally stopping when the headboard sounds cease.
Wonwoo lays there for a moment, eyes closed, catching his breath.
When he finally turns his phone flashlight on and looks down at his chest, he realizes he’s cum more listening to you and Mingyu fuck than he’s probably ever cum inside of a girl.
It’s then that Wonwoo realizes how truly screwed he is. 
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Thirteen
Seungkwan had nearly spat out his drink when you’d revealed Mingyu’s offer to invite Wonwoo into your bed. Soonyoung’s jaw had dropped, and it’s stayed that way. Seokmin looks like he’s having a panic attack, his cheeks all flushed, his hands tugging at the neckline of his dress shirt.
“So what are you going to do?” Seungkwan asks finally, taking a sip of his Gin and Tonic with his wide eyes glued to you.
“I’m honestly not sure,” you admit, letting out a sigh.
“Bitch,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “don’t give us that. You read smutty threesome shit all the time, and here you are, being propositioned by your hot neighbour and his best friend, who both ride motorcycles, I might add- this is a fucking no brainer and we all know it.”
“You’ve been wanting a proper fuck session forever,” Soonyoung agrees.
“It’s actually like… one of your biggest things,” Seokmin points out, nodding. 
“But don’t you think this would be messy?” you ask. “Like, if these were randoms I’d never see again, it would be one thing- but they live next to me, and I’m low key dating Mingyu. Wonwoo doesn’t seem like the polyamory type.”
“Babes,” Seungkwan reaches a hand across the table to squeeze your forearm, “This doesn’t have to be polyamory. Wonwoo can just be some dude that fucks you with his bestie sometimes. You can mostly focus on Mingyu, I mean, after all, we all know you and Wonwoo don’t even really like each other after the whole… ghosting thing.” 
“Which is so valid,” Seokmin assures you, also reaching out to grab your hand. “Who suggests a group motorcycle trip as a first date, that was very stupid.”
“Plus, didn’t you mention hearing Wonwoo fuck some girl through your wall?” Soonyoung asks, playing with the straw in his bellini. “I bet you’re wondering why she was being so loud. I mean, obviously his dick game must be good.”
“I have been wondering,” you admit. “Mingyu is so soft with me, so good and gentle- Wonwoo seems like he might be the opposite.”
“And you’ll never really know until you give this a try.” Seungkwan pats your hand encouragingly. “I think you have your answer, babes. Go make those smutty dreams of yours come true, or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.” 
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Fourteen
Mingyu’s been coming over more and more often. Even though his place is just next door, he tends to have a preference for holding you until he passes out in your bed. You don’t mind, being in his arms helps you get the best rest you’ve had in ages, and you never feel closer to him than you do when you wake up next to him in the morning.
It’s a Sunday, and you’re laying in bed. Mingyu had gotten up, decided he’d wanted you for breakfast, fucked your brains out, and now, you’re stroking each others skin while you catch your breaths.
“Are you thinking about something?” Mingyu asks, and you realize he must have noted your silence.
You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. He’s done his best to foster an environment of safety- you know you can talk to him about anything, and now seems as good a time as any to broach a few subjects that have been weighing you down.
“What are we doing?” you ask.
“We’re cuddling?”
You let out a laugh. “No, I mean… what are we doing? Like… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and from the way you spoke at the start of all of this, it sounded like you were looking for a relationship, but ever since you mentioned inviting Wonwoo into bed, I guess I’m just a little confused about… the trajectory of this. Sharing the girl you want to date exclusively with your bestie just doesn’t seem like a usual start to a new relationship.” 
“Valid question,” he nods. “I can see where I caused some confusion… I guess, I mean- It’s not that I want to date you exclusively, I already am dating you exclusively, and I have been since the start.”
While this is news to you, you suppose it’s not the most surprising thing. Mingyu has been spending so much time with you lately, he’d have to be Superman or the world’s more snakey person to be able to juggle anyone else.
“When it comes to the whole Wonwoo thing- If I’m being honest, we’ve been friends forever. We’ve had like… three or four threesomes together? So I guess I feel comfortable inviting him because we have that foundation of trust there, and based on the stuff you read - correct me if I’m wrong - but I think a threesome is on your bucket list.”
Now this is some hot gossip. You’d never for a moment considered the idea that Wonwoo and Mingyu have shared girls together before- but now that the idea is out in the open, you feel stupid for it having never crossed your mind. 
“So there really wouldn’t be any jealousy or any problems if Wonwoo joined us?” you clarify.
“There never have been before. Wonwoo’s not the relationship type. If I honestly thought there would be a problem, I wouldn’t have brought it up,” Mingyu tells you. “Sounds like you’re open to it.”
“I am,” you admit. “Also… I’m exclusively seeing you too, by the way.”
Mingyu laughs. “I know, Angel. Wonwoo is an exception, the only exception.”
“Agreed.” 
“So…” Mingyu pulls you tighter to his chest. “Are we gonna bring this up with him?”
“Do you want to ask him?”
“I think we should do it together.”
The idea of bringing this up with Wonwoo makes your heart race. “You think he’ll react okay?”
“Angel, he matched with you on Tinder before, and tried to take you out three times, even if you did ghost him, you’re way too sexy for him to ever say no to.”
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Fifteen
When you’d arrived at Mingyu’s place after dinner, he’d suggested a movie night. Wonwoo usually gets off work around one am, and with his Harley, Mingyu expected him to be back at one thirty at the latest. 
Around midnight, you’d fallen asleep, with Mingyu following close behind, and when the sound of the front door unlocking finally pulls you from your slumber, a quick check at the clock tells you it’s already past two.
Mingyu groans behind you, pulling you closer, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. 
Wonwoo walks into the den area in time to see the exchange, and he pauses by the open concept kitchen, staring at you in the dim darkness of the space. 
“What are you doing out here on the couch?” he asks.
“We were waiting for you,” you say softly, pushing at Mingyu’s hand in an effort to wake him up fully.
Wonwoo stays quiet, and after a moment, Mingyu finally groans and sits up, turning to look at his best friend. Mingyu rubs at his eyes, yawning. “We have something to talk to you about,” he mumbles.
“Let's hear it,” Wonwoo sighs, setting his helmet and gloves onto the kitchen counter before he goes to remove his leather jacket.
“You know what… maybe it’s too late for this,” you suggest, turning to look at Mingyu.
“Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, pulling you closer and kissing your throat. 
You note the way your body reacts, head tilting to the side to give him better access. It’s clear that you’re not as afraid of being watched as you’d thought you might be, and when your gaze shifts to Wonwoo, you find him staring at the place where you and Mingyu’s bodies connect.
A muscle in his jaw feathers, and you see the way his fist clenches at his side, but he stays silent.
“Do you want me to do it?” Mingyu asks.
“Yes, please.”
Mingyu gives a reassuring kiss to your cheek. “I know you two have a past-” he begins.
“She told you about that, did she?” Wonwoo interrupts.
“Uh huh, she’s a good girl like that,” Mingyu holds you tighter. “Anyways, I know you two have a past, and I know you’re attracted to each other-”
“Mingyu.” There’s a warning tone in Wonwoo’s voice now, and it makes your skin tingle. 
“I’m too tired to do this right,” Mingyu sighs, “but listen, she wants to try a threesome, we’ve done threesomes, I figured I’d put it on the table, if you’re interested.”
Wonwoo stands in the kitchen for a moment, then he lets out a sigh, turning and placing both of his hands on the counter. He looks down at the ground, and you wonder what’s going through his head.
“Aren’t you two dating?” he asks finally.
You open your mouth to respond but decide to shut it, turning to Mingyu to allow him to answer. “Yeah, I mean, we’re exclusive.”
“How can you be exclusive if you’re inviting me into a fucking threesome?” Wonwoo snaps.
“Because you’re you,” Mingyu shrugs. “Why do you seem mad?”
Wonwoo lets out a deep sigh. “This isn’t the right way to start a relationship, Gyu.”
You find it comical that Wonwoo - of all people - is trying to school Mingyu on how to treat a girl. 
“I’m pretty confident in us,” Mingyu grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You kind of love how sure he is, and it makes your trust in the budding relationship feel even stronger. “Look, if you don’t want to-”
“I want to.” 
It feels like the air is knocked from your lungs. Yes, you’ve considered this for weeks, but part of you never really thought it would get this far, never thought Wonwoo would actually agree-
“I’ve been listening to you two fuck through a wall for weeks,” Wonwoo continues. “Of course I fucking want to.”
“So what’s the problem?” Mingyu asks, brows furrowing at why his friend still sounds so angry.
Wonwoo turns to look at you. “This is going to complicate things.”
“Only if you let it,” Mingyu argues. “Look, you’re both overthinkers, and I get that, but with me here, I’ll keep us all grounded, I promise.”
“It’s not that easy,” Wonwoo sighs.
“It can be, if you both let it be.” He sounds so sure, and you want to believe him on this-
“So is this just going to be a one time thing?” Wonwoo asks, and you note the way his gaze shifts from his roommate to you. Then you feel Mingyu’s eyes too.
“Uh… I hadn’t thought that far,” you admit.
“We could always just go with the flow,” Mingyu suggests.
“You know I’m not that kind of guy,” Wonwoo retorts.
“Honestly, I know it was just a simple case of ghosting, but you two don’t seem to actually like each other that much,” Mingyu points out, “unless I’m misreading something. So how about we give it a shot, and go from there?”
Wonwoo looks to you, and after a moment to consider it, you nod, he mirrors the motion soon after.
“Fine. I’m in.”
“Can you try to sound more enthusiastic?” Mingyu teases. “This is my Angel I’m letting you get a taste of.”
“Don’t test your luck,” Wonwoo warns. “Are we doing this right now?”
“I’m already half hard just thinking about it,” Mingyu grins. “Are you up for this, Angel?”
Things are happening a little fast for you, but you worry that if you don’t bite the bullet and try this now, you might chicken out if you give yourself enough time to overthink and talk yourself out of it. 
“Let’s do it,” you respond. 
Wonwoo stares at you from the kitchen, and you wait to see who will move first. Finally, Wonwoo nods. “Okay, my room.”
He walks away without another word. Mingyu is quick to get up, reaching down to tug you to your feet. You’re a little shocked at how abrupt Wonwoo is being, and how quick Mingyu is to act on Wonwoo’s locational choice.
You’ve never seen the inside of Wonwoo’s room, and you find it even more minimally furnished than the rest of the apartment. With nothing but a bed, a dresser and a gaming station set up, Wonwoo clearly has very few loves in his life. There are no books, no clothes strewn about- it almost looks like a room straight from the Ikea Catalogue with the theme ‘my ocd teenage gamer’s sanctuary.’
The only thing of any true interest, is a tiled wall mount light piece, and from the way Wonwoo is standing near it and looking down at his phone, you’re pretty sure it’s bluetooth. As Mingyu leads you to go sit with him on the bed, the tiles begin to change colour, and you’re not even surprised when Wonwoo goes for a red hue that makes this entire situation feel correctly sinful.
Mingyu sits behind you, prompting you to settle on his lap. His hands find your thighs, stroking you through your sweatpants. You can tell he’s waiting on something, and when Wonwoo finally looks up at the two of you, setting his phone down, you realize just how much power you’re about to hand over to the man you’d ghosted all those months ago.
Wonwoo approaches you and Mingyu, coming to stand right in front of you. He meets your gaze, but he’s quiet. You hold your tongue, knowing that now is not the time to start being a brat.
“So,” Wonwoo says finally. “My guess is Mingyu’s been going easy on you since you started fucking.”
Mingyu lets out a laugh behind you, and you find yourself wanting to defend him. “I wouldn’t say he’s been going easy on me-”
“I’m going to make an assessment, and you’re going to tell me if I’m wrong,” Wonwoo states. “You look like the kind of girl who wants to be dominated. The shy ones can sometimes be the kinkiest girls you’ll ever meet, and something tells me that if you’re interested in a threesome - interested enough to let me be the one to come in here and fuck you - you’ve got some specific itches that need to be scratched. Mingyu’s a vanilla boy. He doesn’t even like to call sleeping with a girl fucking. I’m betting he gives you everything you want, never makes you work for it, or beg for it, or any of that shit. The guy wakes up three times a night to rail you for fuck’s sake. So I’m guessing, even though he probably meets most of your needs, there’s something you’re missing that Mingyu thinks I can provide.”
Mingyu’s mouth finds your throat, pressing soft kisses that wordlessly tell you he’s not about to answer this assessment, it’s fully on you.
“I…” you swallow thickly. “I guess, I mean, that sounds correct.”
“You’re happy with Mingyu.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you find the need to answer it anyways, so you nod quickly. 
“Very happy.”
“But he doesn’t dominate you.”
You shake your head.
“And tonight, you want someone to tell you what to do.”
You nod.
“You want someone to make you scream the way I made that other girl scream, the girl that kept you up at night. You want what I was giving her.”
“God, yes,” you admit, letting out a shuddery breath. You can feel Mingyu smile against your throat, and he wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his cock straining up against your ass, and it’s driving you wild already.
“What’s off the table?” Wonwoo asks. “Be thorough.”
“I think… no anal. Hard pass on anal, at least, right now,” you start. “And… please don’t be mean to me? Like… don’t degrade me?”
“If you’re our good girl, there will be no reason to degrade you, will there?” Wonwoo says smoothly, reaching out to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes by your lips and you open your mouth for him, accepting the digit that presses flat to your tongue. “See, you’re just a good girl looking for direction, there won’t be a problem tonight.”
He removes his hand, and part of you mourns the loss. 
“Everything else is on the table?” he clarifies.
“Nothing gross.”
“Nothing gross,” Wonwoo repeats with a laugh. “I guess that’s all subjective, but I get what you mean.”
God, you wonder what dirty, nasty things this man has done in his lifetime. 
“Safeword?” Wonwoo asks next.
You take a deep breath, only needing a moment to consider one. “Harley.” 
Mingyu groans behind you, his hands teasing up your thighs, closer and closer to where you need him while he begins to suck on your sweet spot. You can tell from his reaction that the safe word pleased him, and you know that everyone is aware how close you are to letting the fun actually begin.
Wonwoo has done his due diligence, now, he just has to do you.
“Gyu, how about you get her warmed up?” Wonwoo suggests, and the man you’re sitting on wastes no time with the request. Mingyu immediately slips his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers finding your clit through your panties while you squirm on his lap.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, “she’s so wet already.”
“That’s no surprise,” Wonwoo says nonchalantly, pivoting and moving away.
You watch him go, curious as to what he’s up to. Mingyu, meanwhile, is focused on getting your attention. He pushes your panties to the side, stroking your pussy, teasing as if he’s about to dip his fingers into you, only to circle your clit again.
You snap way too easily, turning to press kisses along his jaw. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, prompting him to meet your lips. All it takes is a little tongue action for Mingyu to also break, finally slipping a digit into your wet core.
You whimper at the feeling, grinding down on his hand. The wiggling of your hips adds friction to the front of Mingyu’s pants, and he releases his own groan of pleasure. 
He adds a second finger and you find yourself gasping. Your thighs spread to accommodate Mingyu. His slow stroking is driving you wild, and the ever constant pressure on your clit only intensifies the situation.
“Lay her down,” Wonwoo’s voice snaps you out of your Mingyu haze, and you break the kiss to blink up at Wonwoo.
You notice something in his hands, but before you can get a better look, Mingyu is pulling his hand from your core and standing up, taking you with him. 
He gently places you onto the bed, tearing off your pants. His fingers go to hook in your underwear, but one tutting sound from Wonwoo makes him stop in his tracks.
“Leave those on for now,” Wonwoo instructs. “You might be skipping things because you’re needy, but I remember your panty kink.”
Panty kink? Mingyu has a panty kink?
Fuck.
You wonder how much Wonwoo knows about Mingyu’s sexual preferences, things that you haven’t even learned yet.
No matter how worried you were about this before you agreed to a threesome, it’s becoming more and more clear that Wonwoo might carry the keys to unlocking Mingyu’s full potential in bed- now, you’re worried what that means for the fully monogamous aspect of your relationship.
“Take off your shirt and bra for us,” Wonwoo prompts next. “I want to see you.”
His voice had softened at the end of the request, and the fact that Wonwoo has a good mix between commanding, and a tone that’s almost on the pleading side, has you immediately making good on what he’s just asked of you.
You slip your shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. Arching your back, you get at the clasp of your bra, and soon, it joins the discarded fabric next to the bed.
Mingyu gets onto the mattress between your thighs, his hands stroking up your legs, which spread for him again.
“Here,” Wonwoo tosses the thing he’d been holding onto your chest.
When you pick it up, you realize it’s a blindfold.
Wonwoo meets your questioning gaze. “Put that on. You trust us, right?” 
You swallow thickly, then, you slip on the blindfold, obscuring your vision completely.
“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo muses, and his satisfaction has your core throbbing. He’s being a lot nicer than you’d hoped he would be- part of you had wondered if this would a rage fueled fuck, revenge for the ghosting. But the way Wonwoo’s treating you- it’s clear he has no animosity toward you for your past, regardless of the cold way he’s been acting toward you up until tonight.
Even with the blindfold, it’s clear who’s still rubbing your legs. And when Mingyu shifts his weight, bending down to press kisses along your inner thighs, you know it’s still him.
Although there aren’t any surprises happening in terms of who is touching you, with your vision cut off, every brush of Mingyu against your skin feels even more intense. Without the pressure of keeping your eyes open, or following the action with your gaze, you can simply lay back and enjoy what’s happening.
Mingyu’s mouth reaches your core, and his breath through the fabric makes you twitch.
When his tongue makes contact with your wet panties, you both let out groans. The world seems suspended in anticipated pleasure, if even just for a moment, before Mingyu practically dives in.
His tongue pushes at your panties, and the teasing aspect of his muscle prodding at your core has your stomach already twisting into knots. It’s like he’s trying to devour your underwear, trying to push his tongue through so he can get at you-
You’d never imagined keeping your pussy covered with a thin piece of fabric would reveal to you how desperate Mingyu is to properly be eating you.
Your hands reach down, tangling in Mingyu’s hair, and you begin to grind against his face, using his nose to add pressure to your clit.
Something brushes by your nipple, and you practically jump at the contact. Then, the soft bud is pinched between two fingers. It’s not a hard pinch, not enough to hurt, but enough to have your pussy throbbing even more from the idea of pain. 
You also know that it’s Wonwoo who has finally decided to touch you, and you’re kind of scared of the effect that’s having.
Mingyu doesn’t even notice his friend beginning to play with your tits, he’s much too distracted by licking your core through your panties. You’d bet that if you took your blind fold off right now, you’d find his own eyes closed, his mind completely consumed by the act of being close to your pussy without really being able to get at it.
“Does he feel good?” Wonwoo asks.
“Uh huh,” you nod, tightening your grip in Mingyu’s hair so you can grind harder against his mouth.
“He’s already nearly breaking,” Wonwoo muses, “how far along are you?”
“I-” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know.”
“I want you to enjoy the teasing, want you to be brought to the edge like this, and when you’re finally about to snap, I’ll let him pull your panties to the side. You can ride his face while you cum for us.”
Your muscles clench at his words, and you nod quickly. “Okay.”
“Where are your manners?” He pinches your nipple even more roughly, and you let out a delighted squeal.
“Okay, yes, thank you, thank you, Wonwoo,” you correct yourself.
“Good girl.” The pinching subsides, but you almost miss the pain. “You look good like this.”
“Thank you!” you blurt out, not wanting to fumble your manners so early just because he’s being sweet to you.
Wonwoo’s fingers leave your breast, and your focus shifts to Mingyu again. He’s begun rubbing his nose against your clit, and you’d bet that Wonwoo’s words about getting you to the edge have inspired the motion.
Mingyu knows that clit stimulus will get you there faster than the teasing of his tongue along your panties, and you give yourself to the pleasure he’s providing.
Wet lips wrap around your nipple and your body jolts. One your hands immediately flies to the back of Wonwoo’s head, threading through his soft curls while he sucks on you. He releases a groan of satisfaction. You respond with a whimper of your own, pushing your chest up toward his mouth.
Nothing has ever felt like this.
Having two sexy men worship you is making your body short circuit faster than it ever has before.
You can feel your orgasm rising in your stomach, and before you even know it, you’re letting out a gasp. “Fuck, I’m close- shit, thank you, fuck, I’m gonna-”
You can’t even finish your sentence, Mingyu tugs your panties to the side, pushing two digits into your hole while his lips find your clit, sucking the sensitive bud while he groans like a starved man.
Wonwoo’s teeth simultaneously graze your nipple, and the combination of stimuli is enough to throw you over the edge.
Your pussy clamps down on Mingyu’s fingers, waves of pleasure exploding out from your core. The loudest moan you’ve ever released sings out of you, and your grip tightens in both of their curls. You’re used to having one anchor, Mingyu, who you hold onto to keep you from floating too high to cloud nine, but now, even with two anchors, you still find yourself drifting away into a state of bliss you’ve never even dreamed of.
Wonwoo’s free hand finds your neglected breast, and a pinch at your nipple has even more electric energy surging through you, your back arching at how intense this all is.
Mingyu hasn’t stopped between your thighs, his fingers are unrelenting inside of your throbbing core, his tongue flicking your clit better than any vibrator or toy ever has.
You cum, and cum, and cum-
Mingyu releases a sinful groan, and you can feel something splash your inner thighs. Mingyu pulls away from your clit, licking up the liquid-
Wonwoo’s mouth leaves your breasts, and you can feel his gaze slipping between your legs.
“Fuck, I didn’t know you could squirt, baby,” he muses, massaging your breast in a way that almost feels loving.
“I didn’t-” you struggle to speak amidst your moans, “I can’t-
“No one’s ever made you squirt before?” Wonwoo finishes your sentence for you.
“No, sir, I mean- yes, sir-”
You hear Wonwoo let out a chuckle, and he pinches your nipple, making you cry out even more. “Sir, huh? Looks like our good girl has really learned her manners, Gyu.”
You’re not sure where the title had come from, but calling Wonwoo ‘sir’ had just felt right, it still feels right, as you writhe against his bed sheets.
“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo sighs. Fingers brush by your cheek, and the sudden touch makes you flinch. “She’s crying, Gyu.”
Mingyu groans deeply, his fingers coming to a stop in your pussy. When he removes them, and both men pull away, you can finally take a deep breath after the intensity of your orgasm. Your entire body shudders as you try to steady yourself after what they’ve just given you.
In the periphery, you can hear a wet sucking sound, and you’d bet your life that Mingyu is licking his fingers clean.
“Squirting all over him like that got your boyfriend hard as fuck, baby, I think I’ll be nice and let him fuck you now.”
God, there’s so much you want to think about with that sentence- specifically the way Wonwoo just referred to Mingyu as your boyfriend, a term that you haven’t yet used- but you’re also so needy for Mingyu’s cock now that you can’t sit and ponder the relationship development. 
“Yes, please, Mingyu, fuck, need your cock-” you whine, reaching down to tug your panties off-
Another set of hands grabs the fabric, and before you can fumble to get your underwear down your legs, Mingyu simply tears them in two to get at you.
His cockhead is rubbing against your soaked folds a moment later, and you let out a whimper of desperation. 
“Fuck, Angel, you’re doing so good for us,” Mingyu groans, slipping the head into you.
“Gyu-” you whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head from the stretch of his girthy tip.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he tells you, one hand flattening on your abdomen to keep you still. “I could slide all the way in like this-”
“Do it,” Wonwoo says simply. “Bet she’d fucking love that.”
“I would,” you agree, whimpering at the idea of him filling you up with one powerful thrust. “Please, split me open-”
The words no sooner leave your mouth than Mingyu is doing just as you’d asked. In one motion, he sinks the entirety of his cock into your wet, ready hole. 
His hips hit flush to your own, and you release something between a cry and a scream. Your inner walls struggle desperately to accommodate the large intrusion that your body is still not used to even after fucking Mingyu countless times.
Before Mingyu, ‘Like a Virgin’ had just been a Madonna song, now, it’s something you understand completely.
Mingyu’s mouth finds your neck as he leans his entire, large, muscled body over your own. His lips are hot as they suckle on your sweet spot, and you grab at his strong shoulders, wrapping your legs around his hips.
He starts slow with his motions, only pulling out slightly. With each small rut, his cock sinks so deep that it hits a spot that makes you go mind numb.
You’re a gasping, wriggling mess for Mingyu, and from the sounds leaving his own lips, you know he loves it.
His pace starts to increase. You can feel your pussy tingling with each thrust, the vein along the underside of his cock stimulating your walls perfectly.
Mingyu draws your lips to his own, and you find yourself in a desperate clash of tongues. 
“How cute,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you back to reality. “For the record, baby, I’ve never seen Mingyu this into someone.”
God, why is he being so nice to you?
Why does the thought that you make Mingyu come undone unlike anyone else have your pussy throbbing?
Your hand moves before your mind even registers what you’re doing. It flails out toward Wonwoo’s voice, and you’re pretty sure you make contact with his thigh.
“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks, tone shifting.
You break the kiss with Mingyu, and his lips find your throat while you address his friend. “Wanna touch.”
Wonwoo is silent, and moments feel like minutes. Then, you hear a belt buckle, and a zipper being pulled down.
“You just wanna touch?” Wonwoo prompts. 
Before you can even respond, Mingyu is nipping at your ear. He’s breathing heavily, fucking you faster. “Do you wanna suck him off, Angel? I won’t be mad if you do.”
This is a threesome, it wouldn’t be fair if Wonwoo didn’t get a bit of you too…
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Wonwoo prompts.
“Yes, I wanna suck you off,” you clarify, doing your best to make your voice sound confident.
Mingyu groans, and then he pulls off of you. You whine at the loss of him, but he flips you onto all fours, pulling your ass into the air so he can push his cock into you again. You do your best to steady yourself on your hands, and the bed dips in front of you, signaling Wonwoo’s arrival.
“Here,” Wonwoo’s voice is soft, as soft as his touch when he pulls the blindfold off of you. “Wanna see that pretty face when you choke around my cock.”
In the red light from the tiled wall mount, Wonwoo looks insane. Yeah, a little insane in the crazy way, but insanely sexy too.
He’s taken his shirt off, and you’re shocked to find washboard abs that make you drool immediately. His curls are all flouncy and illuminated by the red, like a halo, or even devil horns. His jeans are undone, but he doesn’t have his cock out yet, which you kind of appreciate.
Although you can see his length straining against the black denim, he didn’t immediately stick his dick down your throat, he’s giving you time to adjust to the new position.
You blink up at him, and Wonwoo smiles, cupping your cheek. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
“So good,” Mingyu echoes, digging his fingers into your hips as he begins to fuck you like a mad man.
“Sir,” you breathe.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can I suck you off now?”
Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Go for it.”
You realize he’s not going to help you take his cock out, not yet at least. It’s difficult to hold yourself up with one hand while Mingyu fucks you, your free one reaching for his jeans. You hook your fingers in the fabric, trying to tug them down.
Part of you thinks Wonwoo likes watching you struggle. He’s said he’d be nice, wouldn’t degrade you, and he’s not, but this feels like it’s bordering on humiliation. 
Here you are, getting fucked stupid, holding yourself up on one shaky hand while the other tugs desperately at his pants, trying to free his cock so you can have it sink down your throat-
“You’re cute,” Wonwoo muses, finally giving in.
He pushes his pants down, his cock springing up against his abdomen.
He’s long. Maybe not as long as Mingyu, and not as thick either, but that just means you might actually be able to take him fully into your mouth, unlike your boyfriend’s monster cock that you can’t even fully suck halfway.
Even though Wonwoo isn’t as big as Mingyu, he’s confident in himself, and that makes things all the more sexy.
He grabs the base of his length, holding the tip out for you.
Meeting his eyes, you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.
Wonwoo taps himself along the wet muscle, then he teases the tip just past your lips- you go to wrap your mouth around him, only for him to pull back with a laugh. “Eager, are you?”
You nod, “uh huh.”
He doesn’t even tut at you for your lack of manners, after all, you’re still holding your mouth open for him, unwilling to close it if even for a few moments to say a ‘yes, sir.’
“I guess I can give it to you,” Wonwoo sighs. Although he’s trying to sound unbothered, you can tell from his leaky red tip that he’s just as turned on by this as you are. You can see through Wonwoo now, and you wonder how that’s going to impact your opinion of him.
This man who likes to seem hard and domineering, who likes to appear nonchalant- you wonder what kind of thoughts are swimming in that pretty head of is.
Wonwoo slips his cock into your mouth, and you immediately begin to suck it, twirling your tongue along the tip. He pushes in another inch, testing your abilities. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you stare up at him, wanting to please.
Mingyu fucks you harder, prompting you forward onto Wonwoo’s cock. You take more and more of him, doing your best to relax and focus on the pleasure Mingyu is giving you, rather than the uncomfortable feeling of a heavy dick on your tongue.
You enjoy giving oral, but you’ve always found it easier to have some other stimulus to anchor yourself- Mingyu’s cock splitting you open is just the right amount of distraction. When Wonwoo hits the back of your throat, you hardly choke, too enraptured by Mingyu behind you to carefully about your gag reflex.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Wonwoo tells you, having watched for your limits and reactions.
He begins to thrust now, matching Mingyu’s motions. It’s a push pull, and you kind of love being used like this, having two cock filling you up. They’re almost synchronized, and it turns you on that they’ve done this before, that they’re familiar with each other.
You couldn’t imagine a better pair to lose your threesome virginity to.
Wonwoo’s hand grabs your hair, and you watch as he throws his head bad, letting out a groan.
Fuck, he’s so sexy- they both are. Mingyu’s grip on your hips is even tighter, and you know what that means.
“I’m close,” your boyfriend announces.
“Well I just started,” Wonwoo retorts. “Hold it.”
You’re shocked that Mingyu doesn’t even fight back, his thrusts simply slow down a notch. Wonwoo, meanwhile, speeds up, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks around his cock, sucking on him like you’ve never sucked on anyone before.
“You’re good with your mouth, baby,” Wonwoo praises you.
“She’s so good,” Mingyu agrees, reaching a hand around your body so he can rub your clit.
You jolt at the contact, pussy clenching desperately around Mingyu’s cock.
“Fuck, Woo, we’re both close-” Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hot across your skin.  
“I guess I can make this quick,” Wonwoo grunts, hips shuddering.
Mingyu draws fluid, lazy circles on your clit, speckling your shoulders with kisses while he ruts slowly into your core. You suck on Wonwoo diligently, like it’s your job- after all, it is your job to make him cum in order for you and Mingyu to get there too.
The pressure in your abdomen is getting tighter and tighter, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold off, especially with the sounds Mingyu’s making-
“You two are so needy,” Wonwoo muses, letting out a small chuckle. “Fuck.” 
“You gotta let her cum,” Mingyu practically begs. “She’s squeezing me like a fucking vice, dude- this is torture.”
Wonwoo’s hips jolt at Mingyu’s words, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You feel your muscles constrict around both of them, and they both groan in response.
“You’re too good at this,” Wonwoo tells you. “When I cum, you both get to cum.”
It’s not an outward admittance that he’s close, but you can tell he is. His stomach muscles are clenching with effort as he uses your face, and the small groans of pleasure leaving him are higher in number now.
He fucks your face even faster, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to begin fucking you properly again. “Can you rub your clit, Angel?” he asks. “I need to grab your hips.”
You moan a sound of affirmation around Wonwoo, holding yourself up on one wobbly hand while the other slips between your legs.
“That’s it,” Mingyu groans, straightening behind you and taking hold of your hips with both hands. His pace matches Wonwoo’s now, and you can feel your orgasm so close-
You can almost taste it.
In fact, you can taste Wonwoo’s, a strangled gasp escaping him as he cums down your throat suddenly.
“Our turn, Angel,” Mingyu moans, pace quickening to a speed that would almost be painful if it wasn’t so pleasurable. Your fingers are rough on your own clit, and you do your best to swallow every drop of Wonwoo’s spend.
When he pulls out of your mouth, you breathe in a strangled gasp- only for moans of pleasure to escape you uncensored.
“Fuck, that’s it, Angel, almost there, almost there-” Mingyu groans. “Fuck, cum for me, cum for us- fuck, cum on my cock-”
His words throw you over the edge. You lean forward, resting your cheek against Wonwoo’s thigh while your orgasm overtakes you. Waves of pleasure surge through your body, making you shake- Mingyu’s hands hold your hips steady, keeping you where he wants you while he fucks you through your high, coating your insides with his thick cum.
You’re both moaning messes, completely given over to the ecstasy that you find in each other.
Your hand falls from between your legs, and soon, Mingyu’s motions stop. He keeps himself buried inside of you, trying to catch his breath.
“I’ll get some tissue,” Wonwoo says. He pulls away from you, and you collapse face first onto the bed, shuddering from the aftershocks of your high.
Mingyu’s hands begin to stoke your body, a silent assurance that you did well for them.
Wonwoo comes back with tissues, and Mingyu pulls out. You bring the kleenex to your dripping hole, careful not to get any cum onto Wonwoo’s bed-
Which is when you remember you squirted all over the comforter already.
You lay on your back, giggling to yourself.
“What’s so funny?” Wonwoo asks. Fingers go to pinch your nipple and you flinch, rolling away from him.
“I got squirt all over your bed,” you tell him.
“Naughty girl,” he says, but there’s an inkling of pride in his tone.
“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, reaching to pull you off the bed. “I’m going to go clean her up, you can throw your stuff in the laundry, and we can stay in my room tonight.”
You’re not sure why the idea of sleeping next to Wonwoo feels more intimate than the fact that he just came down your throat, but ten minutes later, when you’re snuggling between the two men, you find yourself almost unsure of how to act.
Mingyu’s already passed out, soft snores filling the room, and it’s Wonwoo who notices your unease as you shift under the sheets.
“Relax,” he tells you, his hands drawing you to his chest. “You’re safe with us.”
For some reason, his words actually calm you down, and after a few more deep breaths, you pass out on the chest of the man you’d ghosted over half a year ago.
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Epilogue
It’s been two months since you and Mingyu invited Wonwoo into your bed. Two months of great sex, but it’s even deeper than that.
Mingyu is outwardly your boyfriend, and he loves showing his claim over you every chance he gets, but Wonwoo is still on the fence about where he fits in your relationship. 
You’re at the bar where Wonwoo works, it’s a place you’ve been becoming more of a regular at. Mingyu is out with Cheol, but he’ll be meeting you shortly. Right now, all there is to do is wait and try not to flirt with Wonwoo too hard while he mixes drinks. 
Wonwoo is chatting with another regular, an old guy who keeps looking over at you. Finally, the man asks, “How do you two know each other?”
You and Wonwoo exchange a look. You wait for him to define the relationship, after all, out of everyone in your odd little throuple, Wonwoo’s the one who likes to go slowest when it comes to relationship milestones.
After a moment of consideration, Wonwoo responds, “She’s a friend. Dating my roommate.”
“Ah, okay,” the man nods.
It hurts for Wonwoo to not claim you the way you wish he would, but at the same time, you understand his hesitancy. 
When you’d first started fucking Wonwoo, you’d thought he was a doberman to Mingyu’s golden retriever, but now, you think he’s more of a black cat. If you move too fast or too sudden, you’re afraid of scaring him off, and that’s the last thing you’d want to do.
With a sigh, you lift your drink to your lips. You suppose having one boyfriend who claims you with all of his heart makes up for having another who is still unsure about what to call you.
But it doesn’t mean things hurt any less. 
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm happy I was able to get this fic out in time for spring :) when I tell you this shit was five months in the making-
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🔮 preview.  Mingyu gives you all the love you’ve ever dreamed of from your romance novels. And Wonwoo gives you all the kinky sex you’ve fantasized about from the erotica you read. It’s the best of both worlds, and as Wonwoo sinks his cock into your wet pussy, you begin to suck on Mingyu.
cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sex in an alley, sex over a Harley motorcycle, eiffle tower/ spit roasting, quickie, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, cum/filling kink, inklings of humiliation, Wonwoo is a little rough,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 220
🌙 staring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!reader
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bonus
“I’m just gonna head outside with Cheol for a quick vape break,” Mingyu tells you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he exits the bar with his buddy.
You turn to Wonwoo, who is busy mixing some elaborate drink for a group of cougars a few seats down. It’s a decent night here at his workplace, it’s summer now, so most evenings are good for him.
“Is this seat taken?” You turn to see the regular from a few months ago standing there, and you’re quick to offer him the chair, after all, you and Mingyu will be leaving soon anyways. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” the man asks.
You exchange a look with Wonwoo. “Yeah, I uh… I met you a few months ago,” you try to explain, pointing at your bartender. “I’m this guy’s friend.”
“Right, dating his roommate, now I remember,” the man nods.
Wonwoo has stopped what he’s doing, and he’s staring at you.
There’s a hint of danger in his eyes, and you’re not quite sure why. Then he sets down his drink, coming around the bar, and grabbing your arm. “Come outside,” he instructs. 
“What? Now?” you ask in shock, looking around at the bartop that's full of people who need drinks. “You’re working!”
“I don’t care. Come.”
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arminsumi · 1 year
Text
THE HORNIEST
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex
Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(
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Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.
Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."
Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak — and he licks his lips to wet them.
Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.
Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."
Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.
Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.
Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."
Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.
Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.
Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.
Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.
Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.
Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.
Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.
Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.
Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.
Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.
Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.
Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.
Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.
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© arminsumi
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aeyumicore · 19 days
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misty invasion - omnipotent perception
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some plot, porn with feelings, angst with comfort
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 6.5k (who’s surprised)
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers and alterations to ‘omnipotent perception (rafayel’s misty invasion card), slightly toxic relationship, m!receiving handjob, bathtub sex, pulling out, cummies in hair/face, lots of making out, hickeys, HEAVY references to rafayel’s lore (sea god and some abysswalker), references to rafayel’s 4* memory fragrant dream, so much angst (with comfort), soooo much feelings, sensory deprivation, sensory play, blindfolding, switch!raf, desperate rafayel, kinda withholding rafayel, clothes on in tub, p in v seggs, use of y/n, use of pet names
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | xav's version | sylus's version | zayne's version
━ ✧.˖ A/N: RAF IS HERE! sooooo this one is a long one. each one of my misty invasions got longer and longer, i am a menace to myself. but this one made sense, i felt as if raf’s misty invasion had the most lore subtly stitched into it and you guys know i always try and explore some angst/lore <3 i am very happy and excited to finally close out the misty invasion series. 
i’m going to be taking a much needed break after this. i’ll likely still be writing, but slowly and in my own time. I had a brief period of motivation, after the clarity of sharing my story, but now i am back to being anxious and exhausted.
that being said, please do not send anyone hate in my name or in my defense. I have never and will never ask for that. it’s enough that i have your support, i don’t need more than that. 
special thank you to my friend @myusuchaa for helping me SO much with the rafayel lore. definitely the biggest fish forker i know <3
as always, if i missed any warnings or used too specific physical descriptors, let me know and i can do better! thank you guys for your support. i love you!
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
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“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”
It’d been a beautiful summer day, riding bicycles along the Italian coast of Verona. Rafayel had just finished his piece for an art exhibition in the capital of the picturesque city, and you’d had time to soak in the summer breeze with each other. The air was wonderfully salty, just enough to remind you of the sea itself. Of Rafayel. 
It hadn’t truly surprised you when you’d found out Rafayel had lived here before, especially now knowing his Lemurian roots. Something about the way he walked through the Veronian brick paved roads, the rustic wind tousling his beachy waves, the cloudy sun shining on his effervescent skin. Like he’d belonged here, once upon a time. 
It was the perfect day.
Even when you’d teased him about the Lemurian who’d dissipated into sea foam for a mere human, and Rafayel’s expression misted over with a melancholic nostalgia. When his eyes glazed over with a torrent of inexplicable emotions, he could tell you wanted to prod him about it. But you didn’t, and for that he was incredibly grateful. There was a part of him that longed for you to know, to remember, the truth of that story. But he couldn’t trust you with that part of him again. Not yet. 
Even then, it was a perfect day. The two of you in Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet. 
Two ill-fated lovers. 
It was perfect, he was perfect. 
Until you asked him that question. 
“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”
Suddenly, Rafayel couldn’t look you in the eyes. Even when the rain droplets had started to patter onto your sun kissed skin, Rafayel holding you close under his favorite cardigan to shelter you from the onslaught of crystalline water. He couldn’t look at you. He refused to look at you.
If he did, you might’ve seen the tumultuous storm flickering in his eyes. The violets in his irises bright with unshed tears, the blues dark with a bitter loneliness. 
He didn’t speak to you the entire way back to your hotel, heading straight to the bathroom. At first you think that perhaps he’s upset with you, but he only draws you a warm bath in the luxurious clawfoot tub overlooking the Italian night lights. 
When he finally does speak to you, peeling off his layers of soaked clothing, you can tell he’s masking his true emotions under a facade of classic Rafayel sarcasm. Joking about whether he should write a Lemurian handbook for you or just read you 1,001 Lemurian stories. But he surprises you when his voice cracks with a raw genuineness, one that’s masked under layers and layers of hesitancy and loneliness. You can’t quite understand it.
“You can be my caretaker. And I can tell you 1,001 stories,” he mutters, eyes trained on the ground once more, voice soft and vulnerable. 
“I’m okay with every choice you provide,” he continues as he peels your wet jacket off your shoulders innocently. When his hand reaches the inside of your coat, grazing against your exposed waist, he pulls his hand back. His face is a storm of conflicted torment.
“...But you should take a warm bath first. Or else you’ll catch a cold.”
As he turns to leave, the sight of his lean and muscled back making you blush, you muster all your courage and call out to him, “You can’t leave. You still haven’t answered my question.”
You catch his wrist, using all your force to pull him back. Rafayel stiffens, unable to catch himself before he tumbles backwards into the filled tub. 
He’s able to protect his head from hitting the edge of the tub, the water sloshing around and splashing onto the tiled bathroom floor. Rafayel sits in the tub, not a semblance of annoyance on his face. Instead he looks flustered, the warm water clinging to his defined muscles.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Rafayel’s hair is disheveled, the water making clumps of his damp hair stick to his wet skin. His eyes watch you with inscrutable emotions, waiting for you to speak. 
You don’t answer his question, instead asking one of your own.
“You can spare me the details, but there’s something important you should tell me…” you hum, walking to his side by the tub, leaning over him, “How do Lemurians express love?”
Rafayel looks startled by your question for a second before composing himself, “Do you really want to know?” The fragrant candles in the bathroom flicker, the steam of the bath dancing against the soft flames. His words seem less like a genuine question…and more like a vague warning. 
Before you can respond, Rafayel’s fingers are closed around your wrist, tugging you into the tub on top of him. You squeal as Rafayel guides your body onto his, the violent crashing of water loud against the soft sound of the rain against the large glass windows.
Rafayel looks smug, his hand holding yours against his chest. You’re messily sprawled across his half naked body when he shifts you off of him so that he can sit next to you, his strong arm wrapping around your body. The warm water is uncomfortable against your still half-clothed body, but you can only focus on the way Rafayel holds your fingers up to his mouth, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand like you were royalty. 
“When Lemurians fall in love with someone…” Rafayel mutters, his warm breath fanning against your hand, “All our senses are committed to perceive them without question.” His eyes are intense as he speaks to you, hoping to convey even an ounce of the love he speaks so honestly of. 
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Your senses? Like…this?” You untangle your hand from his, bringing your index finger up to his lips. You barely graze his pouty bottom lip before he’s panting, struggling to speak. 
“...Your way of triggering my “senses” has only touched the surface,” he mutters sulkily, yet he has to look away from you, cheeks rosy at your mere touch. He grabs your hand, eyes locked back onto yours giving you a silent warning. 
But you only proceed further, your fingers grasping his chin, your eyes peering up at him with a faux innocence. It’s not long before your fingers wander south, pressing into his heaving chest, flitting around his sharp collarbones. Rafayel’s reaction only fuels you with mischief and confidence, the way his breath matches his heartbeat: fast, erratic, and demanding. 
He looks at you with almost…disbelief. Disbelief at your actions, but more so disbelief at the way your simplest touches can have his body reacting so viscerally. It was a testament of just how much the dark-mauve haired Lemurian loved you, his every sense reacting to you so readily.
“...Are all humans idiots?” Rafayel grits, refusing to look at you again. But his body betrays his words when your hand ventures further down. You’re barely able to register the shocked expression on his flushed face before your back is pressed into the edge of the tub, the water splashing wilding as Rafayel hovers atop you.
He’s careful not to press his body into you, knowing he’d be an absolute goner once he felt your core against his. His thick muscles twitch angrily as he holds you down against the back of the tub, your hand clutching his shoulder for support against his erratic actions. 
“Someone’s intentions are as clear as day,” he accuses you. Though his words hold not even an ounce of ill-intention, he narrows his eyes at you. Just then, the rain outside turns into lightning, briefly illuminating Rafayel’s ethereal features. The flash of light accentuates the tempest that’s brewing in suspicious eyes. 
As you watch the turmoil flicker in them, you suddenly think maybe you pushed too far, “Do you not like it?” Your voice comes out more insecure than you’d wanted it to, suddenly aware of how forward you were being.
Rafayel sighs, pausing before his voice comes out pained, “If I said I didn’t, would you stop?” 
At the hint of anguish in his voice, you move to pull your hand away. But Rafayel’s hand abandons its grip on the tub to clasp against your hand, holding it tighter against his neck, refusing to let you go.
You gasp, as his movements cause the warm water to swash around. With his forceful hand over yours, your flushed skin prickles against his alarmingly chilly skin. 
“Rafayel, your body is so cold!” you whisper worriedly, fearing he might be catching a cold. For a second you forget that he’s Lemurian, accustomed to the frigid depths of the ocean. As your eyes search his anxiously, hand still gripping his cold shoulder, Rafayel’s own eyes watch yours meticulously. 
The swirls of blue and pink in his eyes have always been breathtaking, like the perfect mix of the most expensive paints. But now, as he watches you with the depth of the whole Lemurian oceans in his eyes, you’re completely speechless to the flickering of rampant passion behind them. 
That is until he grabs your chin roughly. Rafayel was no stranger to taking what he wanted, but this was different. The way he grabbed you screamed of…insecurity. Demanding, but unsure all the same. His cheeks are tinged the prettiest of coral pinks, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he closes the distances between your faces. Quickly, so he can’t change his mind. 
His soft lips slot over yours in a bruising embrace of passion, need, and unwavering longing. There’s something mind numbing about how gently his lips take yours, yet the pads of his fingers hold your chin so forcibly, as if afraid you’d slip into the depths of the water and disappear from his arms forever. 
The thunder rumbles deafeningly but all you can hear is Rafayel. He pants into you, his mouth claiming every inch of your lips, of your tongue. He kisses you like he knows nothing else, like he feels nothing else. 
He doesn’t let you go, although you’d never want him to. You only want him to hold you tighter, pull you closer, take you harder. You want to protest when he finally pulls away, gasping as a thin rope of saliva connects your parted and bruised lips.
Flashes of light illuminate his face, making him look as ethereal as the sirens warned about in ancient tales and myths. He hesitates to speak, trying to find the words to convey the emotions he’s been trying to control since the memories of Verona had begun to overwhelm him. The memories of his past. His past with you.
“And you’re warm,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding painfully, his body always so willing to react to you. All his senses, always so hyper aware of you, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. His thumb strokes your glistening bottom lip, fingers still holding your chin captive. His eyes watch you with an unbearable longing, the previously intense crinkle in them softened to a tender vulnerability. 
“So perfect for me.”
Butterflies wriggle in your tummy, and you reach your wet hands reach up to cup his cheeks. 
“Rafayel, you seem different…” you mumble, stroking the cold and smooth expanse of his cheek. He looks down, avoiding your gaze, clearly grappling with a turmoil of intrusive emotions and memories. Despite that all, his face softens under your touch, even unbeknownst to him. 
Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, he’s rubbing his cheeks into your palms. The warmth of your affectionate embrace makes it difficult for Rafayel to think clearly, and he can’t stop himself from whispering, “Will you still love me no matter who I become?”
You’re speechless at the blatant insecurity in his voice, in his eyes. Rafayel was always confident, years as a world-famous artist had made him self-assured in more ways than one. But now, as his shadowed and down-cast eyes searched yours desperately for an answer, you could see just how unsure he was. You could see the cracks forming in his polished shield, the fissure spider webbing uncontrollably, on the precipice of shattering completely. 
His eyes pierce yours, fully intending to get an answer from you. You don’t even think he notices how pouty he’s become, his bottom lip protruding in an tragically adorable show of just how badly he needs you to understand him. To love him. 
To remember him. 
Unable to withstand his paralyzing gaze any longer, you yank him down to you by the chain that hangs around his neck. The silver necklace matched the shimmering bracelet he’d gifted you, that currently sits on your own wrist. 
Rafayel grunts as you pull him closer, clearly taken aback. His gaze doesn’t lighten, only becoming more intense and heated as your breath grows more bated against his own parted lips. 
“You…” he grumbles, trailing off, eyes flickering down to the beautiful sheen across your lips, before they dart away, looking to where his fingers grip the edge of the porcelain white tub. The rosy blush that dusts his cheeks gives away just how much he yearns for more, more of you. 
You find him to be so irresistibly tortured that you can’t help but hook your arm around his neck, pulling him further down until your lips collide with his collar. If you can take even an ounce of his tumultuous pain away, you’d do it.
The thunder roars violently as you kiss him, the water in the tub splashing over and hitting the bathroom tile. Rafayel is quick to relent all control, letting you take every inch of him. His fingers thread into your hair as you kiss his sensitive chest, teeth nipping at the cold skin on his collar. His whimpering gasps are audible, fingers tugging at your damp hair, as you suckle torturously at his chest, no doubt leaving a reddened bruise. 
When he finally pulls away, there’s a clear look of reluctance on his beautiful features. You try and pull him back, and he briefly lets you before pulling back, the look of hesitation returning to his thunderous eyes. 
You give up, instead moving your finger to brush against the reddened hickey forming on his collar. Rafayel looks at you, pained and begging for mercy, as your fingernails graze over the sensitive skin. 
“When humans fall in love…” you hum, admiring the beautiful bruise, “We try to leave a unique mark on them.” 
At that precise moment, the moment you mention you’re in love with him, you can visibly see the fractured remnants of Rafayel’s walls come crashing down. He pants, eyes fixed on the way your hand presses over the right side of his chest, so dangerously close to where his heart was. To where his bond with you was etched into his very soul. 
In that very moment, a flip switches in Rafayel. His eyes burn, not with anguish or uncertainty, but with a dangerous desire.
“If you say so…” he rasps, leaning in until your breaths mingle into one. As his eyes flicker closed, lips ghosting along yours, he whispers, just before his lips claim yours. 
“Join me, then.” His lips press into yours, holding back as to not take you completely.
“Let’s drown in the ocean.” He inhales your torrid gasps, his words deceitfully simple. 
“Together.”
Rafayel kisses you, instantaneously consuming you. He pants into you, unable to soften the way his body reacts to you, the way his senses consume you until there’s nothing left of him. To him, loving you, losing you, and repeating the cycle…felt exactly like that.
Like drowning. 
He throws all that emotion into the way he kisses you. The embrace is so intense that it makes tears form in your eyes, emotions welling in your chest so tightly you fear you might burst. 
When he pulls away to breathe, you look up at him, “You never answered my question from earlier.”
Rafayel’s eyes widened, knowing exactly which question you were referring to. What he didn’t expect was for you to be so direct. His eyes dart around, but you hold his face in your palms before he can physically turn away. He opens his mouth to speak, before pursing his lips again in hesitation. 
You gently prod him, fingers stroking his locked jaw, “Raf?” 
“It…” he starts, eyes crackling with emotions. Rafayel struggles to find the words. He knows exactly what he wants to tell you, but can’t find the words to express it to you. 
It’s not that he wanted to be withholding, least of all with you. He would give you anything. He had given you everything, time and time again. To the point where it destroyed him. 
But the fear of having it all taken away, again, had made him so reluctant to lean back into the wind, like he’d done so many times in the past. Too scared of how much of himself he’d lose again in the never-ending cycle of falling irrevocably in love with you. 
And yet, as much as it took from him, it didn’t matter. Because you were everything to him.
“In this human world…it’s not difficult for a Lemurian to become lonely,” he laments wistfully, eyes misted with a faraway look. 
He continues. “But in all the lives I’ve lived, I almost never felt lonely,” Rafayel gently smiles at you, a smile filled with a wistful sorrow. 
“Really? Why?” you ask genuinely, still soothing his hardened jaw. His features had softened considerably as he peered down at your wet form, the tension between his legs growing visibly.
Rafayel chuckles. His answer was simple. 
Because, there was always you. 
But that was a tale for another time. 
“Are you trying to trick a foolish Lemurian into giving up all his secrets again, my little human?” he whispers huskily, leaning down to kiss at the skin under your ear. 
You’re about to ask him what he means by again, but the words die on your tongue when Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck. His fingers find the buttons of your drenched top, unbuttoning it feverishly, desperately shedding your layers of clothing off of you.
Before you know it, you’re naked in Rafayel’s arms, his own bare manhood pressed insistently into your inner thighs, dangerously close to your core. Though the rest of his body is chilly from the rainwater, his throbbing erection burns against your skin. Even submerged in water, you can feel his pre cum oozing onto your leg, hot and thick.
His lips trail down your shivering body, kissing the grooves of your collar, teeth grazing the swell of your breasts. He’s nearly heaving, gasping for air like he can’t breathe. And truthfully, he couldn’t.
The dam of his emotional barriers absolutely decimated, the flood of his unabated passion overwhelming his senses. There is only you. The smell, the sound, the feeling, the sight, the taste of you. 
A Lemurian in love. Utterly, brokenly, and wholeheartedly. 
You try to match his intensity, pulling at his soft and wavy hair, drawing him closer to your naked body. You thrust your chest towards him, wanting him to claim you like he’d done so many times before. 
Rafayel chuckles at your obvious desires, but more than willing to oblige. His Queen. 
His lips close over your breast, his lips cold but his tongue wet and hot against your nipple. The warm water splashes messily against your clashing bodies. The lightning outside flashes, the shadows of your lewd acts dancing against the bathroom walls.
“Nnghnh, R-Raf!” you wail, his skilled mouth devouring you whole. Your spine arches into his demanding mouth, the wet splashes of the bath and the ravenous slurps filling the acoustics of the hotel bathroom. 
The pleasure of his tongue is so intense that your body can’t help but squirm backwards. Rafayel chuckles almost cynically, as he captures the back of your neck with his long and slender fingers. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to run away from me,” he pouts, leveling with your drooping eyes, body already delirious from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to bring you. 
“Hey,” he murmurs, bringing your chin up so that your eyes meet, “Don’t make me wait anymore, please.” 
You can’t help but smile at his adorable pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a sulky plea. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, twirling his wavy hair into your fingers, bringing him closer until your foreheads are pressed together. 
“I don’t want to wait either,” you whisper breathlessly against him, his face so close you can feel the length of his eyelashes against your cheek.
Rafayel gulps, his neck bobbing with the pressure of how forcefully he has to restrain his senses, restrain himself. It’s so clear how vulnerable he is to your every whim, so you take the opportunity to push him below you. His glimmering eyes shine with confusion, but he lets you climb atop him, hissing when your slick cunt presses down on his cock.
“What are you doing, Miss?”
You don’t answer, leaning over the tub to grab Rafayel’s damp cardigan, bringing it up to his face. He raises an eyebrow in question at you, his palms resting in the fat of your hips as your bare pussy drags against his pelvis. 
“Do you trust me?” you grin playfully at him, spreading the cardigan out and preparing to use it as a makeshift blindfold. Rafayel seems to know exactly what you’re planning. He looks up at you, inexplicable emotions reflected in his glassy eyes. 
“I do,” he whispers finally. His worlds are simple, yet something about them rips through your consciousness, filling you with a torrent of bittersweet fractures of a lost memory. 
A memory of another time Rafayel told you those same words.
I do.
Rafayel can read the confusion in your eyes, and squeezes your hips reassuringly. You’re shaken from the confusion of your mind-bending memories. Trying to focus on the moment at hand, you clear your throat and carefully tie the soft and expensive cardigan around Rafayel’s head, effectively cutting off his vision.
You lean down to whisper against his ears, lobes pink with excitement and anticipation.
“Let me show you what else humans do when we’re in love.”
Rafaye’s entire body quakes, his chest rising rapidly at your unabashed words. His fingers dig into your hips as he does his best to limit his embarrassingly visceral reactions to your body. With his vision limited, all his other senses are heightened to your will. 
With your lips at this ear, your neck is exposed to him. The smell of your pheromones mixed with your perfume clouds his thoughts, the urge to drive his teeth into your pulse so unbelievably overwhelming. But your palm on his chest pushes him down, your lips trailing down his ear, down his neck, and to his chest. 
With his eyes covered, his skin is all the more sensitive to your touch, 
“Please,” Rafayel rasps, nails digging into your thighs, “Please. I can’t wait anymore.”
You giggle at how adorably needy he’s become. You can tell just how much the blindfold affects him, his body more readily reactive to your lips, your fingers, your words.
Even with his eyes covered, Rafayel can’t help but pout. The inability to see you, his beautiful Queen, made him all the more desperate.
You decide to indulge him, fist closing around his cock under the water. Rafayel’s hips jolt violently, his lower half lifting to chase the friction of your soft hand. While he cries out in pleasure, you kiss down to where the water meets his defined chest.
“O-oh fuuck,” Rafayel hisses, his head thrown back on the edge of the tub, neck straining into the cool ceramic. His hips buck up into your fist wildly, your hand moving far too languidly for his taste. You continue to tease him slowly, his cock and your hand completely submerged under the surface of the water. He whimpers, teeth digging into his bottom lip, continuously thrusting up into your hand.
You take his desperation as an opportunity to torture him more, moving as gently as you can so that you can move up to his ear without him noticing. With your hand still pumping his oozing cock under the water, you whisper into his ear, letting your tongue graze his earlobe.
“When humans love someone…we want to make them feel good,” you whisper seductively into his ear, purposely letting your words come out in hot breaths. Rafayel jolts and squirms in response, fingers gripping the edge of the tub until his knuckles are pale white. 
“Sh-shiit,” he hisses breathlessly as your hand pumps up and down faster, the movements causing the water to ripple. His muscles flex under your touch, shining with a wet sheen against the flashing glow of lightning. 
“So? Does it feel good, Raf?” you murmur into his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to where his throat bobs with the heavy beat of his pulse. 
He thrusts himself into your hand violently, voice coming out in a gravelly groan, “Yes. You always feel so fucking good. S-so soft.”
Surprising him again, you take his lips into yours, insistently pushing your tongue into his mouth, all the while your fist continues to jerk him off. You catch every one of his unabashed moans with your own mouth, the muffled sounds of his pleasure mixing with the thundering storm outside.
It’s a furious clashing of saliva, teeth, and pure unfiltered passion. His fingers digging into your waist, your fingers squeezing his cock so tightly it threatens to have him spilling all over you and the filled tub. 
When you pull away, the spit dribbles down Rafayel’s chin and onto his damp chest. He looks adorably flustered, the cardigan still covering his eyes. With his sight gone, the feeling of your tongue against his, your fingers wrapped around his cock, your plush thighs against his twitching muscles is all the more intense. His body, all the more pliant for you. 
“Hah – if you keep going, I’m g-gonna–”
He doesn’t even have time to finish his words when his cock lurches in your greedy hands, thick and burning rivulets of cum shooting into the lukewarm bathwater. It’s strangely beautiful, like a ribbon of iridescent pearls. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rafayel gasps, nearly choking over his own rapid breath, his fingers gripping the edges of the tub.
His body convulses with his orgasm, a broken mantra of swears and lewd groans the only thing audible even in the roar of the storm outside. 
“Nnnghnh – b-baby,” Rafayel whines as you pump him through a mind-numbing overstimulation, desperate to see you. But you don’t stop, only giggling as you watch even more cum spurt from his angry pink tip. 
In a sudden flash of splashing water and strong fingers gripping your thighs, you find yourself under Rafayel again, his hand holding the back of your neck protectively as he slams you into the edge of the tub. His cardigan no longer covers his eyes, likely discarded somewhere on the wet floor.
Your eyes are wide from the whiplash of his sudden movements, “Rafayel?”
His sunset eyes blaze wildly as he watches you, the sight of you so utterly indulgent and overwhelming after having his vision returned to him. 
“Will you let me worship you?” 
His question is vulnerable, desperate. He looks at you so damn hopefully that it’d be impossible to say no even if some insane part of you wanted to. 
You reach up to clasp his cheek in your hands, pulling him closer until your noses brush against each other, “Yes, always.”
With the breathy desperate utterance of consent leaving your lips, fanning across his open mouth, he loses it.
He forces your thighs wider, gripping you by the fat of your hips and dragging you towards him until your bare cunt brushes right against once-again hard erection. You were used to Rafayel’s virtually non-existent refractory period, his cock upright and commanding attention so quickly after his orgasm.
The lukewarm bath water makes every touch feel much more fluid, all the more intimate and sensitive. Your grip the edges of the tub for support, Rafayel’s movements erratic and unpredictable. He leans down towards you, your bodies as close as the confines of the tub will allow. 
“My Queen,” he mutters under his breath like a vow, shifting to line himself up with your entrance. Without another warning, he pushes himself into you. 
You squeal at the stretch, your arousal making it easy for him to push into you completely. Rafayel groans as he enters you, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his large hands wrapped around your thighs. 
Rafayel is absolutely not shy with his cries of pleasure. His body shudders even though he hasn’t moved since seating himself fully inside of your warm and impossibly tight walls. 
When he doesn’t move, you screw your eyes open in confusion, doing your best to speak through the wonderful stretch of his cock inside your quivering walls, “R-Raf? Are you okay?”
Rafayel doesn’t speak, but the glow of the storm outside illuminates the way his throat bobs, every fiber of his body overstimulated with the pleasure of your body gripping his, refusing to let go.
You move to shift towards him, worried about the way he’s locked up, but that only causes your body to involuntarily squeeze around him. Rafayel hisses, pushing you back down gently, his fingers caressing your cheek.
“I-I just need a second.”
“A-are you okay?” you ask worriedly.
“You’re so tight, so warm,” Rafayel chokes out, his fingers tightening around your cheek and thigh. You can vaguely feel his cock growing inside you, and it’s then you realize he’s paralyzed, not by hesitation or pain, but pleasure.
You can’t stop yourself from teasing him, clenching down on his manhood snug inside you. Rafayel moans, his hands coming down to grip your thighs in a silent warning.
“No more teasing me,” he cautions with a pout, one hand shifting to rest on your naval. At your mischievous grin, Rafayel presses down. 
You cry out, eyes rolling back as he forces the walls of your pussy to rub against his cock. Rafayel wants to smirk at your helpless writhing, but the sensation is also overwhelming for him. His body heaves, nearly collapsing on top of you, only catching himself by gripping the sides of the tub.
Your fingers wrap around his trembling biceps, eyes urging him to take you.
Rafayel swears, obliging at the fucked-out look in your eyes. He unsheathes himself fully from your addicting gummy walls, barely even leaving his tip in, before shoving himself back into you.
The newfound vigor of his thrusts makes the water in the tub slosh wildly, splashing all over your face and hair. But you could care less, because the feeling of his excitement bruising its way in and out of your throbbing cunt is literally all you can think about. Pathetic moans of pleasure, the only sound you can make.
Rafayel fares no better, strings of beautiful grunts leaving his own lips. His pelvis slams into your soft inner thighs, the sound of the water against your colliding skin sinfully mixing with your combined moans. 
“You’re so – nghnh – perfect for me, Y/N,” Rafayel groans as he drives into you, the tip of his cockhead brushing into your cervix and g-spot all at once, at every thrust. 
His hands clutching the tub on either side of your head cage you in, making it so the only thing you can focus on is him. And the only thing that his senses can perceive is you.
The only thing he can see is you, your tears mixing with the soapy water, the reddened love bites blossoming on your skin.
The smell of you heightened even against the fragrant scent of the bath soap, your pheromones driving him to the edge of insanity. 
Your wanton cries for him, fueling him to fuck you harder, the sounds of your sweet pleasure making his own noises come out unabashedly. 
The taste of you lingering on his tongue every time he bends down to capture your lips in his, saliva running down both your chins. 
But mostly…the feeling of your perfect walls constricting him, pulling him in, refusing to let go. The feeling of your hands, pressed deep into his twitching muscles. Your soft thighs locking him against your sopping cunt. 
God, he was so in love with you it was nearly pitiful. 
“You’ll always be my Queen,” Rafayel babbles, thrusts becoming erratic as he becomes overwhelmed by the bittersweet memories that’d resurfaced in Verona, “My entire heart.”
You nod vigorously at his words. “Always Raf,” you gasp, holding onto him as he pounds into you even harder, your spine thudding into the tub, the water cushioning the blows.
“You better never leave me,” he broods, putting every ounce of emotion into the way his cock claims every inch of your poor cunt. The word ‘again’ dies on his lips, the writhing artist above you opting to save that for another time.
“W-would – nnghnh – never leave you.”
His wild eyes focus on your words. He says simply, the subtleist hint of insecurity and doubt playing in his shaky voice, “I’m gonna – hah – hold you to that.”
You bob your head, wanting him to see how serious you are, see just how much he meant to you.
Your fingers venture to your clit, desperately pent up from all the sexual and emotional tension that’d built up from today. Rafayel doesn’t see you immediately, his head thrown back in a drawn out groan, his body glistening with sweat and bath water, chiseled muscles twitching with his impending release.
When he finally glances back down, he sees your fingers furiously pawing at your clit and he nearly growls at the sight beneath him.
His voice comes out broken and husky, uncharacteristically so for the normally charismatic and smooth-talking painter. He gently pushes your fingers away, his own lengthy and skilled fingers replacing yours.
“Let me,” he begs, hips stuttering as he nears his second release, “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”
His sweet words make you shiver, your body convulsing around him. Rafayel shudders as you grow tighter around him. It felt like you were nearly cutting off his circulation, in the best way. 
Rafayel’s fingers on your quivering bundle of nerves have you seeing lightning even with your eyes screwed tightly shut. He truly had the hands of a god, fingers slender and deft, the pads of his digits hardened from years of skilfully maneuvering expensive paint brushes. Your body was his canvas, and he’d spend hours creating art with you. 
“R-Rafayel, I’m soo – nngh – c-cloose,” you slur, your body arching into him, head thrown back until all you see is the ceiling above. 
Rafayel heaves at the sensation of you coming undone around him, his fingers still rubbing furiously. There’s a bright desperation in his glowing eyes, the need to see you cum on him as strong as the need to fill you up with his endless seed. 
As his body trembles above you, his fingers grip the tub so harshly his knuckles have turned taut and deathly white. 
“I-I’m close too, baby,” he groans, “Please, can I cum?”
You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than to feel him release with you But Rafayel wants to hear you. 
“Say it, Y/N. Tell me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.” His voice is so brokenly desperate it drives you closer to your release, the sound of his lewd pleas so utterly erotic. 
“Ra-Rafayel, n-need it s’bad. Shiiit – please!” you all but scream, his insistent fingers pushing you into your orgasm. 
Rafayel chews on his bottom lip as he watches how beautifully you explode on him, so unbelievably close to finishing himself. He desperately wanted to cum inside you, but he knew if he did that he would be at the point of no return. You’d very well spend the rest of your trip in Verona locked in your hotel room, his cock nestled inside you until you literally begged for mercy. And maybe not even then. 
So with every ounce of will he had left, he pulled out of you as he came, standing on his knees so he could wrap his fist firmly around his cock as he came. The force of his cum so strong it shot all over your damp breasts and even your face, your expression still contorted in the ecstasy of your climax. 
You watch in awe, your cunt convulsing around nothing, your orgasm tapering off, as Rafayel trembles through his own pleasure. His cum is hot as it splashes onto your wet body, some of it shooting into your hair. Honestly the sight of how powerfully his cock erupted makes your stomach lurch in arousal.
Rafayel whimpers through his endless orgasm, his fist pumping up and down as he finishes on you. You’re left quivering beneath his imposing body, mesmerized by the white ropes of cum that shoot from his angry red tip. 
When he finally finishes, his glassy eyes watch you, absolutely awestruck. He bends down, his forearms trembling as one grips the side of the tub, the other stroking your cheek. He catches a rivulet of his milky seed with his finger, grinning cheekily at your reddened face.
“I’ve never seen anything so damn beautiful.” 
If it’s even possible, your cheeks burn even more furiously. You swat his fingers away.
“Shut up,” you whine, looking around at your bodies, joined in the filled tub. You inwardly cringe when you notice there’s more pools of milky white fluid than there are bubbles at this point. The amount of cum he gave you every time was nothing short of a phenomenon. 
“It’s everywhere!” you shriek dramatically, hitting his chest above you, “We need to get cleaned up!”
Rafayel’s grin widens, and before you can ask him what he’s scheming, he uses the finger still on your cheek to smear his cum around.
“Rafayel!” you yelp, trying your best to inch away from his filthy fingers, coated in both your arousals, struggling due to the limited space of the tub.
“But you look so exquisite like this,” Rafayel murmurs, fingers capturing your chin, pulling you up to look at him, his eyes hazy and sated, “My beautiful Queen…”
He dips down to press a lingering kiss to parted lips, mouth hitched open in excitement. When he pulls away he grins playfully at you.
“Besides, it’s good for your skin. Lemurians have a lot of uses, you know.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Is that why your skin always looks so flawless?”
Rafayel’s cheeks flare, his eyes averting from yours, “Okay! Let’s get cleaned up shall we?”
You smile widely, unable to contain your fit of giggles. Your body shakes with your laughter, making the water ripple, “You’ve tried it haven’t you?”
Rafayel’s sheepish expression answers your question, “No! Shut up!”
“I knew it!”
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© aeyumicore 2024.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 months
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Jealous
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence
Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy
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Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.
Usually.
Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.
He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.
So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.
“Calm down there mate.”
Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.
“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.
He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.
“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 
Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”
“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.
It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.
His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 
You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.
“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.
He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.
He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”
He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.
That was until he opened his mouth. 
“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”
Logan was going to kill this man.
You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.
“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.
He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.
The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”
Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.
Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.
“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”
The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”
“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”
Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.
“I think she said it all.”
He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.
Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.
“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”
Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.
Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.
Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”
“I had that handled.”
Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.
“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”
You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”
You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”
Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”
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generalsmemories · 1 year
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Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters
✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.
this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡
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There's tension in the air.
"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."
You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.
It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.
Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"
"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."
As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.
"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.
You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.
"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."
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"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"
"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"
"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."
You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.
"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.
"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.
"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.
You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.
So much for a day off.
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You can't breathe.
"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.
Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"
There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.
"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.
Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.
Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"
"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.
"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"
"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."
Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.
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starrydragoness · 4 months
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Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI! More under the cut
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Content: soft sex, creampie, cockwarming, pretty vanilla tbh, live laugh love dragon man, wrote this sleep deprived and didn't proof read, so if there are any grammar errors I'll fix them later, trust.
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“Come up here-” 
Jiyan panted, breathy words falling from his lips with effort as he fought down soft sounds of pleasure as he grinded his hips into yours. His hand cups around your nape and brings you into his lips, reddened and bruised as they were - he needed more, more of you, more of your taste and touch and love. The unending well of need is insatiable, always open to welcome you in and swallow you whole, cradling you against his chest.
A thin sheen of sweat sits on top of his skin, his chest rising rapidly with each short breath, and you slowly squirm, pushing his shoulders down so he is now laying on his back and you throw one leg over his hip, effectively straddling him. From here, you have quite the sight of the General of the Midnight Rangers, lying beneath you, and so pliant to your affections, but most importantly - he is your dear husband, one you missed too much and all of that love is coming to boil over at this very moment. 
You lean down, kissing across his collarbone, climbing your way up to his neck and you can feel him suck in a breath as you graze your teeth across his pulse point. Your teeth leave faint little red marks across his pale skin, lips sucking here and there until purple blooms in soft petals. His hands are pawing at your sides, feeling your warm flesh in his palms before he claws down at your hips, pushing you  down against his length that is stuck between your two naked bodies, your naked cunt grinding against it. It feels like it has been ages since you began teasing and feeling one another up, taking off clothing, piece by piece until both of you were desperate for more and more.
“Love- hah.. “ Jiyan curls his fingers into your hips, his head thrown back onto the messy bed with covers strewn about.  “Let me feel you- no more teasing” he whispers into your ear and you couldn’t agree more. Sitting upright you gaze into those eyes of molten gold, looking up at you as if you were the work of finest marble and divinity. Embodiment of beauty and peace.
Jiyan’s lips parted slightly, eyes glued to yours until your line of sight led him down to your wet hole. He swallows the lump in his throat as you take his shaft in your hand, pushing yourself up to your knees before guiding his tip to your hole, all while his hands anxiously massage up and down the  sides of your thighs, anticipating eating him up alive. And once you finally sink down his eyes roll back into his head, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your warm walls squeezing him and welcoming him in. A guttural moan rumbles through his throat and he can’t help but buck into you, and the next thrust has your hands sprawled ontop of his chest, searching for stability as he began to fuck himself into you.
He was nothing if not careful, attentive, he still wanted to appreciate you and show you how much he has missed you too, yet as both of you began to lose yourselves in carnal desires, he found himself getting rougher. 
Each thrust had your tits bouncing, right in his face. Your pretty and glazed eyes looking down at him with all adoration one could hold, and your flushed  face and reddened lips threw him in a daze. He was hypnotized. Enarmored.
“My love- you feel so good, you have n-no idea how much I missed you” he groaned  after pushing himself into you to the hilt, simultaneously pulling you down and for a moment he went still, savoring the fluttering of your walls around him. You moaned his name, lust clouding not only your vision but your thoughts as well. So drunk on him.
One of his hands travels up your sides leaving warmth in its wake, trailing all the way up to your shoulder and then down to cup one of your hands in his, pulling it up, towards his lips until he could kiss your palm. He ruts into you all the while, another lingering kiss following the first one before his teeth nip at the inside of your wrist. 
You can feel your insides burning, slick oozing out of your hole and coating his shaft with each thrust. You can feel him so deep within that it drives you mad, making you cry out for him. And he hears you loud and clear, half lidded eyes drinking you in like the finest liquor. 
The hand that held yours flew down to where your bodies joined together, finding your clit and rubbing it in the rhythm of your thrusts, sending electric shocks up your core, all through your spine and up to your shoulders and down to your toes. Whining you squirm on top of him, both of you losing your rhythm as the tension in your bellies threatens to burst.
“Mmm- I’m so close, Jiyan” you mewled, and goodness, your voice alone was enough to make him chase that high with even more fervor. 
“I know, love, I know- come with me..hah.. look at me. Oh, how beautiful you are-” he muses out loud, a flicker of a smile lighting up his lustful eyes as pounds into you from below, pushing moan after moan out of you, making you sing for him.
Your orgasm blinds you, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as your muscles seized and your walls spasmed as Jiyan filled your greedy hole, spurting deep within you until he had nothing more to give. His face became more red before he released a throaty groan, his own muscles finally slacking from the intense orgasm, just in time to wrap his arms around you after you collapsed onto his chest. His cock remained buried within you even as it grew soft, comforted by the heat and slick. 
The two of you panted, working slowly but desperately to catch your breath. His calloused hands traced up and your naked back,  holding you close to him. 
“I love you.. mm.. I love you so much” you coo at him, picking your head up only to place several kisses along his jaw before kissing his sweet lips. A kiss he gladly returns despite the faint burning in his lungs. “I love you too, dearest” he breathed back,  watching you settle your head against his chest, hearing the quick drumming of his heart. 
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Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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hannieehaee · 4 months
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Imagine workaholic gf!reader of equally workaholic bf!woozi where they both take a few days leave to enjoy each other and book a luxurious honeymoon suite hotel room thinking they will have a lot of sex with their days off but instead end up with cuddling and lazy make out sessions because their exhaustion just swooshes over them owo
18+ / mdi
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content: workaholic!woozi x workaholic!reader, afab reader, heavy mentions of smut, making out, very suggestive, etc.
wc: 1262
a/n: i can really picture jihoon dating a fellow workaholic lol anyways thank u for requesting<3
masterlist
"fuck, finally," you sighed in relief, letting yourself fall backwards onto the cool bed in the luxury hotel room jihoon had reserved.
after endless weeks of equally endless work, you finally had a week off, which jihoon had strategically coordinated with his own time off.
the two of you were extremely hard workers – to a fault. when jihoon bad first met you, he worried that maybe his addiction to constant work would eventually drive you away, yet somehow it had continued to keep you right by his side. you preferred that he was a workaholic, you had once told him. there had apparently been a few prior relationships in which your heavy workload had led to irreparable issues. jihoon being equally as busy as you allowed you to work without feeling guilt of leaving your partner behind – jihoon felt the exact same way.
despite the unspoken agreement the two of you had in regards to the dynamic of your relationship, it sometimes still got to you when you'd realize how little time you were able to spend with your boyfriend – once more, jihoon felt the exact same way.
your individual lives were already difficult to navigate, but making time for each other was even more complicated. your exhaustion was a whole different issue. working as much as the two of you did, it was understandable that you'd spend the lulls in your schedule resting as much as you could rather than with each other. it was a sad truth, but still remained a truth.
it wasn't as if you spent no time together, though. you'd always either see each other in the mornings (either through call or in person – depending on whether jihoon was in the country at the time or not) or at night, always making sure to love on one another as a reminder of the thriving affection in your relationship. you'd also dedicate one night per week to have a stay-at-home date night. everything was perfectly tailored to your relationship, and the two of you were more than happy with it.
these past few weeks had been the issue. as jihoon had a comeback and you had an important project at work, it was virtually impossible for you to see each other as of late. it got to you in all the worst ways, making you moody, irritable, tired, and even sexually frustrated. not only were you physically exhausted of the constant work, but you had been deprived of your daily dosage of jihoon. you had not slept together in weeks, nor had you even had a meal with each other. cuddling? completely out of the question with the insanely packed schedule you'd been having.
it all went like this for the both of you for a few weeks, up until everything managed to reach a standstill. you had a few days off, and jihoon had the ability to move some things around to match your time off. without so much as one word from you, jihoon had decided it was the perfect time to whisk you away on a private getaway at some luxury hotel of your choice.
jihoon wasnt really one to go out much, unbeknownst to you, but jihoon had been feeling extremely pent up from the last moment he got to have you all to himself. the short glimpses of you he managed to catch throughout the busy weeks were the only thing that had kept him going. the singular thought of the next time he'd he'd get to have you was the only thing occupying his mind. renting out a room for the week was the most obvious of choices to jihoon. he would finally get to explore the sheets with you.
upon arriving to the hotel, jihoon chuckled at how pleased you seemed with the place, immediately letting yourself loose on the bed and sighing in contentment. putting down the suitcases, jihoon joined you soon after, still fully clothed as he laid next to you, staring up at the ceiling.
"are you as tired as i am?", you asked him.
he hummed in affirmation, "yeah. what do you wanna do first?"
the unspoken agreement to utilize the week on sex had filled up the room before you had even arrived, so it was obvious what he was referring to.
"i'll take a quick bath first, okay, baby?", you said as you began to get up, stretching your muscles in the process.
"sure, baby. i'll head down to the gym for a bit to unwind then. i'll see you in about an hour, then?"
with a sweet peck, you bid your boyfriend goodbye, giddy to get yourself relaxed and perfumed so your boyfriend could help you destress under the sheets.
~
the bath had been a huge success in terms of getting you relaxed. after an hour lying in the warmest, bubbliest, comfiest water imaginable to man, you felt like a brand new person. accompanied by a lavender-scented bath bomb, a glass of wine and your favorite netflix show playing in the background, you got out of that bath in the best mood you'd been in in weeks.
the one downside was how incredibly relaxed the bath had gotten you. you were so relaxed, you could've fallen victim to endless slumber in that bathtub. as much as you needed jihoon to fuck you to sleep, you weren't sure how well you'd be able to perform if you tried to return the favor.
luckily for you, that would not be an issue.
upon walking back into the room, now donning some comfortable pajamas, you were met with the sight of a fully-asleep jihoon, cocooned between the sheets as he snored softly. the sight had you swooning with affection for the boy. he was the softest, most relaxing thing you had ever seen.
you couldn't help yourself in making your way to him, somehow maneuvering yourself into his arms and under the sheets, feeling more relaxed than ever.
before you could even close your eyes, the boy shuffled behind you, mumbling against your ear as he cuddled further into you.
"baby?", he mumbled.
"sorry, baby. did i wake you?"
"hmm, no you're fine. i meant to stay awake for you, but the bed's just so damn comfy," he chuckled breathily, "i took a quick shower downstairs to prepare for, you know, but fuck, i'm just so tired," he whined.
you turned around in his arms, facing him, breaths almost intertwined due to the proximity.
"that's okay, hoonie. 'm so sleepy. maybe ... we could leave it for tomorrow? just sleep in and then we can have some fun tomorrow?" you suggested, pressing a soft peck to his lips.
his arms tightened around your waist, not allowing you to pull back all the way, "only if you kiss me some more," he murmured, eyes stuck to your lips.
"i can agree to that," you giggled, pressing a languid kiss to his lips as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, softly intertwining with your own in a wet kiss.
the rest of the evening was spent softly making out under the warm sheets, legs tangled up together and fully relaxed in each other's arms. sex was the last thing on your mind as you kissed each other every so often, mostly focused on holding onto one another and finding your slumber together. however, this exhaustion did not stop you from waking up the following day, claiming your highs from one another time after time throughout the day, ready to recharge at night and continue the pattern day after day.
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
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for the fear of falling apart | part three
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when it seems like a return to normalcy is impossible, you decide that something has to give, but will it bend or will it break?
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: fear of drowning, therapy, mommy and daddy issues, sigmund freud, nightmares and ptsd, sleep deprivation, takes place during 15x4 "saturday" (max does not exist in this au), stalkers, yelling, police, domestic disturbance, broken dishes, severe self image issues, crying, implies that jj is sometimes not the greatest friend, marriage and marriage counseling, mentions the death of grace lynch, the chameleon arc, reader and spencer are both broken people sry. things get resolved (or do they?) word count: 5.13k a/n: i'm trying to come to terms with the fact that people will not like how this part goes, but i do think it's important to remember that this is not where it ends. it's probably easy to guess what episode I'm rewriting next. lol. let me know your thoughts and feelings because i am dying to know.
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“Are you glad to be back at work?” Your therapist asked you, writing down your personal information on the form on her clipboard before she met your stare.
Chewing impatiently on the inside of your lip, you glanced over to the clock that was hung above the door, dooming you to another forty-five minutes with Dr. Harmon. “Yes, I love desk duty,” you told her, flashing a fake smile in her direction.
The older woman looked at you doubtfully, and you silently begged for her to sign your return to duty forms. “I thought we spoke about using sarcasm as a coping mechanism,” she responded in a way that made you feel chastised.
You raised your eyebrows at her, gray hair neatly combed into a tight bun, you had spent more time with your therapist for the past two months than you had any of your family – the rest of your time was spent retraining your body, usually within the limitations of your doctor’s orders. “And I thought we talked about there being worse coping mechanisms that I could be using,” you countered, leaning back in her chair.
She shrugged helplessly, “Well, I’m not sure about signing your release forms. You could be a liability in the field.”
Eyes widening, you tilted your head to the side, “No, no, no, I’ve grown a new appreciation for the desk workers in the BAU. I even stopped laughing when people refer to Agent Anderson as Grunt Anderson,” you informed her, nodding as if that would help convince her of your honesty.
Checking off a box on your form, she set the clipboard on her side table, just out of your view. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Harmon leaned forward and folded her hands over her knee, “Have you spoken to your sister since the last time I saw you?”
You leaned your head back, staring at the tiles of the ceiling as any hope of returning to the field left your body.
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One of your very first dates with Spencer had been at the Academy’s shooting range, you had a lucky spot there, it was where you had aced your qualification as a cadet, and it was pure luck that it had been available when you arrived.
As your paper target was brought forward, you slipped off your headphones and set your weapon down, studying the results as you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.
“Hey,” Spencer said from behind you, casually leaning against the wall behind you.
You jumped slightly as the sound of his voice took you away from your anxiety, “Hey,” you echoed, holstering your weapon as you sent your target back for someone to change it out.
“I thought you were going to come to the BAU after therapy,” he explained, arms crossed in front of his chest in his charcoal suit, camouflaging himself with the steely gray of the shooting range.
Pursing your lips, you made sure you had your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag, “I wanted to get some practice in before my requalification test.”
He looked surprised for a moment, “Did your therapist sign your return to duty?”
“No,” you muttered, knowing that you wouldn’t be eligible to take your firearms requalification until after you had been cleared by a psychiatrist.
Any surprise quickly left his face, “What did she say, then?”
You rolled your eyes, “She told me that it’s possible that my strained relationship with my parents is negatively affecting my performance in my sessions. Then she threw a Freud biography at my head.”
“Did you talk to her about the nightmares?” He asked, following you as you checked out of the shooting range, waving to a gaggle of cadets as they noticed the BAU agents in their general vicinity.
Faltering as you opened the door, you flung the glass door open and trudged out of it, “I have it under control,” you lied through your teeth, continuing your way to the elevator.
The tapping of Spencer’s shoes signified that he was following you, holding his hand over the sensor while you stepped in and using his knuckle to press the parking garage button, “You were up all night last night,” he retorted, “She could help you develop a coping mechanism that works for you so that you can get some rest, angel.”
You were getting tired of those words, “Well, maybe we’ll reach a breakthrough next week. You never know.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being so unamenable,” he accused.
Shaking your head as you stepped out of the elevator, you hoisted your bag back over your shoulder, “Is unamenable genius-speak for pain in the ass?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” he retorted, swiping the keys out of your hands before unlocking the car and getting in the driver’s seat. You had been cleared to drive weeks ago, but Spencer still insisted on driving you.
You groaned, “My recent brush with death has made it difficult for me to let bygones be bygones.”
Pulling out of the parking spot, he carefully placed both of his hands on the steering wheel, “And here I thought we were actually going to move on with our lives.”
“No one holds a grudge like a youngest child,” you informed him, leaning your head against the window and wishing you had driven separately.
Being at home wasn’t much better than being at Quantico. You quickly changed and settled yourself on the couch while Spencer sat across from you, legs crossed in the wingback chair as he finished filling in a crossword book that you had started that morning.
You watched the clock tick, the diffused orange light of the sunset beamed through the curtains, and you felt yourself settle. Stiff joints and aching muscles unwound on the supple leather of the couch, and as you let your eyes fall shut, you felt the breeze of someone walking by before Spencer stopped in front of you.
Gently, he draped a knit blanket over you, tucking you in before crouching and dropping a gentle kiss to your temple.
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Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now.
I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.
It’s okay. I’ve got you.
“Honey, wake up.”
You startled awake on the couch, wadding up the blanket in your fists as your eyes adjusted to the dim environment of the apartment. The sun had set, dipping below the skyline as you stared ahead.
Concerned brown eyes bore into you as you caught your breath, Spencer reached over and flicked on the table lamp next to you, “You’re alright,” he cooed, gently enough to make you want to cry. “It was just a bad dream,” he told you, cupping your cheek and studying your expression.
Nodding absently, you pulled yourself into a sitting position, the familiar knit blanket falling in a puddle around your waist. “I was in the parking garage again,” you preemptively answered his next question. You were usually in the parking garage, sometimes you were on the beach, and once you had been fully underwater.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
You shook your head and ignored the defeated look on Spencer’s face, instead burying your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths.
He waited for a moment before speaking again, reaching out and adjusting the bunched-up fabric of your t-shirt, “Are you hungry? I made soup.”
“Yeah,” you breathed, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, afraid it would start growling at the mention of food.
As you watched Spencer get up and walk over to the kitchen, you let yourself feel like everything was alright for the slightest moment. You wanted your apartment to be your safe space where there were no serial killers or sisters or hospitals, but there was a classified file on the kitchen table, photos of you and your sister littered the walls, and there was an entire drawer in the home office dedicated to your hospital stay.
Melding into the couch cushions, you ignored the stiffness in your side, the scars that marred your skin were healed over, but the memory would stick with you for a lifetime. It felt like a phantom pain, irritating your skin whenever you thought too much about it, or whenever your therapist asked you about Grace Lynch.
It didn’t bring you a lot of comfort to know that she was dead, murdered by her own father after conning her ex-girlfriend into giving her money. Everett Lynch was the threat now, and you were stuck on the bench.
Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your cheek on your knee as Spencer ladled soup into a bowl and presented it to you, complete with a few ice cubes to cool it down. He waltzed back into the kitchen to clean up when his phone rang.
You ignored his conversation while you stirred the ice cubes around in your bowl, the soft clinking of them mesmerizing your tired brain. You ate while he spoke on the phone, mentioning something about a case. Pushing any thoughts of serial killers away, you just ate your soup.
Sipping at the broth, you grew curious about what was going on over the phone, but you tried to mind your business, scooping at the last noodles in the bowl before setting it down on the coffee table.
“Who was that?” You asked, eyes following Spencer as he walked back over to the living room, slipping his phone in his pocket as he sat next to you on the couch.
He paused for a moment, and you immediately regretted asking, “Uh, it was JJ.”
You supposed it had to mean something that he elected to tell you the truth instead of lying to you, but you were no longer feeling optimistic, “Ah.”
“Don’t start,” he said immediately.
You turned to him, raising your eyebrows curiously and pushing yourself into the corner of the couch – away from him, “Start what, Spencer?”
Spencer put his hands up, “Picking a fight with me over JJ’s feelings. JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope are working on a stalker case, it’s nothing that we need to worry about.”
“I’m not going to pick a fight with you, I already told you that I forgive you,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He groaned in frustration, “You can say it all you want, but you haven’t. You haven’t forgiven me.”
As he usually was, Spencer was right, you hadn’t forgiven him for lying to you about what had happened between him and JJ. You wanted to. You wanted to find it in yourself to be the bigger person and just tell him it was fine. All you wanted was to move on, but you were crashing into roadblock after roadblock. “Are you going to work that case?”
“No, it’s a classic stalking case, they’ll make it without me,” he said, turning on the couch to face you.
You swallowed thickly, “You can go if you’d rather be there,” you reassured him, wondering if he’d be happier at work than at home with you. Someone needed to make a decision, someone needed to decide whether or not the two of you were going to keep going or if you were going to call it off. You didn’t want it to be you, you were afraid of which option you might choose.
Spencer frowned, “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m not,” you answered.
“Yes, yes you are,” he challenged, leaning forward to get a better look at you.
Shaking your head, you threw your hands up in surrender, “You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You live here. Who the fuck am I to tell you to leave?”
“And now you’re escalating the situation,” he observed, straightening up and watching you carefully.
You didn’t consider yourself an angry person. The two of you didn’t fight often, but as you considered your options, you wondered if it could help. Maybe you could replicate the feeling of a good cry. Maybe all you need is a good fight. Just talk it out – loudly. “I’m not escalating anything. I’m not starting anything. In case you haven’t noticed, this has been going on for months.”
He had noticed, he could probably give you an exact date and time to point out when everything fell apart. Was it inside the pawn shop? Was it in the courtyard outside of Rossi’s wedding? “I thought we had made some real progress at the hospital,” he challenged.
Getting up from the couch, you took a deep breath and tossed the blanket over the back, “You cannot seriously think that. You’re too smart to believe that, Spencer. The idea that we fixed everything while I was hopped up on Xanax and painkillers. It’s… it’s…” you stumbled over your words for a moment. It’s crazy. You wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t do that to him. Spencer had spent his whole life having that word thrown at his mother, and he spent adulthood fearing he’d have a schizophrenic break. “It’s outlandish,” you finally finished.
Spencer looked up at you from the couch, “Is it outlandish to think that the history we have together would help mend our relationship?”
You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know, Spencer, let’s take a look at your history with my sister,” you snapped.
“Oh, come on,” he protested.
“No,” you commanded, “Sit down and shut up. I’ve spent months waiting for you to get it, but apparently, I need to spell it out for you.”
To your surprise, he listened, watching you in silence as you took a deep breath, picked up your soup bowl, and brought it into the kitchen. Your heartbeat pounded like thunder in your ears.
Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “I want you to empathize with me.” You calculated every word you said, “We’ve known each other for nine years. We’ve been together for seven, and I- I had the rug pulled out from under me. God, you went on a date with my sister. You took her to a football game as a hater of organized sports. My beautiful, prom queen, soccer star, gem of the family older sister.”
“It wasn’t a date, Penelope went with us,” Spencer added patiently.
You peered down at him, “When you asked her to go with you, did you do it with the intention that you would be taking her on a date?”
His shoulders slackened, “Yeah,” he answered softly.
“And you know that she loves you. If you went to her right now and told her you wanted to be with her, that there’s a chance she’d consider it. She’d at least have to think about it,” you told him, confidence dissipating as your hands started to tremble and you silently begged yourself not to cry.
Spencer watched you suspiciously, “What gave you the impression that I want to be with her instead of you?”
You faltered, just for a moment, “Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?” You asked exasperatedly, letting your arms fall limply at your sides.
Pinching his eyebrows together, your boyfriend looked at you like you had grown a third eye, “She’s married? Her kids are my godchildren?”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you cursed yourself as tears stung your eyes, “Are those seriously the only reasons you can think of?” With all the brain power you knew he had, you couldn’t help but be disappointed.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, “Putting aside the fact that I’d be destroying a marriage, not because it doesn’t matter, but because being with your sister isn’t even something I’d consider. This might not have occurred to you, but I have absolutely no interest in being with someone other than you!”
You huffed, “Please, she’s beautiful and athletic and older and you’ve known her for fifteen years!” You shouted over your shoulder, making your way back to the kitchen. There wasn’t anything you needed from in there, you just needed to keep moving.
“But she’s not you!” He yelled from the couch, finally getting up and following you to the kitchen.
Spinning around on your heel, you threw your arms in the air, “God, I know!” You swung your arms down, accidentally sending the bowl you had set on the counter down to the floor, breaking on impact. “Shit,” you muttered, immediately dropping to a crouch and starting to pick up the ceramic shards.
“Hey, wait, let me get it,” Spencer insisted, grabbing a kitchen towel from the drawer before laying it on the floor. He carefully picked up the larger shards, waving your hands away.
You clenched your hands and glared at him with bleary eyes, “Why? Why am I not allowed to clean up the mess that I made?”
Spencer sighed, “You’re crying. I don’t want you to get hurt because you can’t see well,” he told you, prompting you to sit back on the tile and watch him continue to pick up.
You crisscrossed your legs and watched him, “I’m sorry for yelling,” you whispered, so quietly that you weren’t even sure he had heard you.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Spencer gathered up the kitchen towel and set it on the counter, setting his hands on the counter and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he echoed your sentiments. He moved to the hall closet to get out the broom, interrupted by a knock on the door.
Confused, you poked your head over the counter and watched as Spencer opened the front door.
“Good evening, officer,” he greeted, casting a sidelong glance over at you.
Fuck.
You scrambled to your feet, careful not to step on any pieces of the bowl that remained on the floor and wiping beneath your eyes as you made your way to the door, peeking around the corner to find two DC Metro officers. “Agent Jareau?” One of the officers said curiously.
“Hi,” you waved timidly, looking between the two of them with your tail between your legs.
He looked surprised at the revelation of who lived here, recognizing you from a case you had consulted on months ago. “We were called here on a report of a domestic disturbance, your neighbor in said she heard ‘a lot of yelling before there was a crash and then everything went quiet’.”
The summation of events did nothing to slow your racing heart, “We had uh… we were having a disagreement, and I knocked over a bowl. It was an accident,” you reassured the officer, reaching out and taking Spencer’s hand as a sign of good faith.
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You nodded in confirmation, “I’m really sorry about any inconvenience, but I promise there’s nothing to worry about.”
The DC Metro officers studied Spencer suspiciously, and you protectively moved in front of him. They were trained to see the worst-case scenario, but there was nothing happening here, “Well then, just uh… try to keep it down, I suppose.”
The two of you waved as they walked away, once the door was closed, you turned to face Spencer, “Are you alright?”
He looked a little pale, “I’m alright,” he nodded, gathering himself before going back to the hall closet. “That was weird,” he added.
Spencer’s interaction with police officers was limited to work with the bureau and his time in prison. He never had to explain an underage drunk person in the car or run when a party got too rowdy, but he wasn’t concerned with the confrontation, he was concerned that, for a moment, before you got there, those officers saw Spencer as a violent person. You stayed put, watching him sweep up the last of the bowl and take care of the sharp pieces with a keen eye.
“I’d never hurt you,” Spencer said softly, unnecessarily explaining to you.
You nodded, “I know. You’re not like that, baby. You’re not a violent person.” In fact, you had only seen Spencer aggressively violent one time in your life, and that was when his mother’s life was on the line. Stepping over to him, you lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the kitchen counter, meeting his eyes.
“She is not you,” he murmured, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his.
Chewing on the inside of your lip, your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, “I am well aware,” you offered.
He took a deep breath, “JJ would never ask me to recite Henry James to her or offer to go to the planetarium with me even after we spent all day on a case or sit through one of my lectures just to hear me talk about something I’m passionate about,” he began. "I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation about something I’m passionate about with your sister. Not one where she didn’t interrupt me or pawn me off on somebody else,” he told you, disconnecting one of your hands to wipe new tears from your cheeks.
“I- I’m not…” you breathed, overwhelmed as he sang your praises.
“I know you compare yourself to her,” he cut you off, “it’s normal for you to compare yourself to your older sister. I just didn’t know how lowly you thought of yourself until all of this was dug up.”
Frowning, you cocked your head to the side, “I do not compare myself to her,” you remarked.
He hummed in response, “It wasn’t up for debate. I’m not interested in your sister. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone except for you. I am sorry that I never told you about the football game, but by the time you joined the team, six years had passed, and I didn’t think it was pertinent to tell you that your sister had rejected me. That is entirely on me, and I can’t change it. I can, however, spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
Your breathing hitched, and the ghost of a potential proposal once again floated through the air, it made your heart ache. “One of these days you’re going to have to actually ask me to marry you,” you whispered, not sure how much longer you’d be able to sit and wait while he neglected to act upon his words.
“What do you want right now?” Spencer asked, studying your facial expression.
You have spent three months being mad at him, and you had to believe it all came down to tonight. Neither of you could keep going with things the way they were. “I’m not sure,” you answered.
Patiently, Spencer inquired, “Do you want to break up?”
If you told him you hadn’t thought about it, you’d be lying. It broke your heart to think about ending things with him, to think that six years together didn’t mean something to the both of you. Spencer had never given any inclination that he was interested in anyone else, so maybe he should’ve told you about the football game, but you shouldn't have let your insecurities block any attempt at reconciliation. “No,” you responded truthfully.
He had tried, too. The one-sided conversations he had with floral bouquets, taking time off of work to help you while you recovered, and he had even limited his contact with your sister. “Do you want to go to couple’s therapy?”
You had heard through the grapevine that your sister was trying marriage counseling with Will, something about working on their communication skills. With that in mind, you nodded, “We can try it out.”
“Do you know what you want?” He asked, settling a hand on your thigh.
Through the sheer curtains, you looked outside, “I want to go,” you informed him, hopping off of the kitchen counter and to your shared bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks.
Confused, Spencer followed you around the apartment, “Wait. Where are we going?”
“I’m going,” you said simply.
He looked surprised at this, “It’s the middle of the night in the twenty-second largest city in the country, you’re not going out alone.”
You paused for a moment at his concern, watching the defeated look on his face morph into one of relief when you responded, “Then put your shoes on,” you encouraged.
As you waited by the door, mindful to not walk through the apartment with your shoes on, he stopped in your bedroom for a moment before coming back out and slipping his sneakers on. “Where are we going?”
Grabbing your keys off of the hook, you opened the door and held it for Spencer as he followed your lead. “You know at the start of Moby Dick when Ishmael says when he finds himself growing grim about the mouth and wanting to knock people’s hats off, he takes to the sea?”
He nods, taking the keys from your hand and locking the door behind him, glancing briefly at your neighbor’s door before handing your keys back to you, “I’m familiar,” he confirmed.
“Well, I’m feeling rather grim about the mouth,” you told him assuredly, slipping your keys into your pockets and slowly making your way down the hold staircase of your apartment building, listening for Spencer’s footsteps right behind you.
Even with your back turned, you knew his expression would be one of confusion, “So, you want to take to the sea?”
You quickly shook your head, the very last place you wanted to be was near a body of water in the middle of the night, “Not particularly, but maybe the park and some fresh air would do me some good.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he confirmed, stepping around you to hold the front door open so that you could walk outside, the cool night air stinging your face as you did.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at the night sky, the stars hidden through the city’s light pollution.
Upon reaching the park, which was just a small green space down the street from your apartment, Spencer led you to a cement bench, the two of you sitting down and sitting in silence. You welcomed the cold air filling your lungs, watching the fountain from a distance and admiring the way the headlights of a few passing cars reflected off of the water.
He kept a hand on your back, gently moving his hand up and down your spine as the two of you reveled in the startling nighttime peace. “I haven’t been fair to you,” you murmured nervously, looking over at him.
“None of this has been fair to anyone,” he reminded you.
You sighed, “JJ confessed her feelings, not the other way around, and I- I shouldn’t have held that against you for so long.” The admission came to you easily, holding your breath as you waited for him to agree.
Spencer’s silence worried you, but then he finally responded, “I probably would have done the same thing, but I don’t think it’s right for me to speculate how I would or wouldn’t have acted in your shoes.”
“I just… she’s always been perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect agent, and I’m… I’m just me,” you said helplessly, staring ahead at the fountain.
He took a deep breath, “You’re perfect to me.”
“Stop,” you chastised halfheartedly.
Chuckling, he placed his hand over yours, “I mean it. Sometimes perfection is about the final concoction and not about getting all of the steps right. You don’t need the perfect journey, and, to me, nothing proves that more than you.”
You hummed, “You’re sweet.”
 “For what it’s worth, I think, given the opportunity, you could be a perfect wife,” he said, nudging your leg with his knee, getting your head to snap to the side.
Jumping up from the bench, you smacked your hand over your mouth at the small black box that he had set on the stone surface. “What are you… what?” You asked breathlessly, looking behind you in the way people usually did when they were surprised, waiting to see if you were being pranked.
“It doesn’t have to be an engagement ring,” he reached down and snapped the box open, showing you the glimmering ring inside. “It can just be a promise because I am promising you right now, this is it for me. You are the only person I can see myself with, and I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
Gaping at him, you looked between him and the ring before closing your mouth, “That sounds an awful lot like an engagement ring,” you told him, out of breath.
He nodded, “That’s because I want it to be.”
“Okay,” you answered.
“What?”
You giggled, he evidently hadn’t expected that answer, “Yes, Spencer.”
He stood up, tackling you in an embrace, “Thank goodness.” He said, relaxing into you as you returned his hug.
Over the past few months, you had been almost afraid of him asking you, worried that it would feel like an excuse. A band-aid over a bullet hole. But as you held each other tightly, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of right. This was where you were always meant to be. “Will you put it on me?”
He nodded slowly, sniffling as he pulled away from you, the warmth of his body leaving you as he nimbly took your left hand, slipping the ring on your fourth finger. The metal felt foreign on your skin, but you welcomed it nonetheless. “That has been sitting in my sock drawer for a year,” he admitted, placing both of his hands on your waist and meeting your eyes.
You beamed up at him, at both the revelation that he bought you a ring well before any of the trials and tribulations of the last few months and that he hid the ring in the one place you never touched – the seemingly bottomless abyss of unmated socks that Spencer called his sock drawer. “Thank you,” you breathed.
Spencer leaned his head down, hovering his lips just above your own, “For what, love?”
Blinking small tears out of your eyes, you answered, “For not giving up on us.”
He smiled, “Never,” he whispered before dropping his lips to yours, the intimacy of something as small as a kiss enough to bring butterflies to your stomach. “Do you want to go home? Or are you still feeling grim about the mouth?”
“Let’s go home, Spence,” you told him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before the two of you began the trek home, hand in hand.
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spdrvyn · 1 year
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touch-starved headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA
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SUMMARY: miguel isn't the most touchy person when you and him first meet but as your relationship with him developed over time and things started to get more intimate, you discovered new things about his love language.
THIS POST CONTAINS: like my last one. literally nothing but fluff. sleep-deprived and stressed out miguel.
NOTES: do you guys think miguel needs a hug because i think miguel needs a hug, reblog and like if you think that miguel needs a hug because i think that he needs a hu
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– through the most painful methods (to his heart), miguel had found out that you really liked touching people. every time you greeted him, it was a big hug that he would hesitate to return. it's not that he didn't enjoy it, it was just that it wasn't something he was used to. it's not like people in the spider society were walking around giving hugs.
– although, it's not like he was opposed to it. it was you, after all. gradually, he began getting more comfortable. resorting to wrapping an arm around you and dragging his hand up and down your back, it would make the hug last just a little longer and he enjoyed the soft gestures. they meant a lot more to him than you thought.
– it took a little time to get him to fully hug you back. the reason for that was how he looked when doing so. he doesn't like being so public about it, he can hear the murmurs and light giggles from the passersby around him when you hug him. besides, the face that he makes is one that he finds quite embarrassing. he looked so content, compared to the stone-faced and distant demeanor he always walked around with at work.
"Miguel!"
He felt his body stiffen as you called out his name, head turning frenetically as to locate where exactly you were calling him from. Not until he feels a finger tap him on the shoulder, he turned around and looked down to see you with a grin tugging at your lips.
He isn't even able to get a single word out as you embrace him, head buried into his chest and arms wrapped tightly around his torso. You're about to pull away before you feel two strong arms envelop you as well.
Your heart fluttered a little. Ever since the start of your friendship with him, you'd gotten used to him not reciprocating the hugs. You couldn't blame him honestly, some people aren't into it but it also perplexed you because it's not like he hated it? Otherwise, you wouldn't have continued.
After a few long moments, he finally pulls back and whatever just happened left a look of awe on your face that he reacted so adorably to. His eyebrows furrowed, lips pursing into a straight line, the crimson eyes that you would lose yourself in averting from yours as a shade of deep red settles on his cheeks.
"So, what are you here for? How'd you even get in?" You wanted to laugh at the strain in his voice, but just this once, you decided to spare him the embarrassment.
Quickly digging into your bag, you bring out a small container. "Admittedly, some of your coworkers were a little... surprised when they saw me head up but I told them that I was your friend and they were slightly less mortified!"
You handed the tupperware over to him as he carefully took it in his hands. "I just wanted to bring you a snack. Haven't seen you in a while so I assumed that things were getting busier around here."
Miguel pried open the container as the scent of freshly baked banana bread wafted through the walls of his office. For a moment, you were concerned that he didn't like it. He stared blankly at the food for a moment before closing it once more to conceal the scent.
"Thank you, that's- that's very thoughtful of you..."
Your head cocked to the side ever so slightly to get a better look at his face, watching lovingly as the blush that painted his cheeks continued to deepen.
Oh, how embarrassed he would be if he knew you could hear his heartbeat during that hug a while ago.
– you weren't all that surprised when the affection picked up ten-fold when you two started dating. whatever sense of yearning and longing for a loving relationship that miguel had was definitely all pouring out now but it's not like you were complaining. if anything, he seemed to be more physically affectionate than you at times. he'd work towards trying to be gentle towards you at the start of your relationship, he was scared that he'd hurt you but once you reassured him that he didn't need to walk on eggshells, he didn't hold back.
– greetings went from hugs to straight up kisses, when you got back home from work and he happened to stop by your shared apartment just to fetch something, he would always pull you into a kiss which would always leave you breatheless by the end of it. whenever you two were watching a movie, he'd constantly have his hands all over you. he liked playing with your body, his fingers would rake through your hair and gentle massage your scalp, his hands would wander down to your stomach to trace shapes into it, then to your thighs to knead into the soft flesh like a cat making biscuits.
– let's not leave out how much he bites as well. he has a tendency for marking you up, sometimes you'd be cooking something on the stove and he'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. when you finished preparing your meal and perhaps wanted to get a change of clothes, you'd see a small bite mark in the crevices in your neck. you were more than okay with it, of course, you just had one rule to not make it uncoverable. a rule that he had forgotten to obey at times because "you just taste so good".
"Fuck..."
You groaned as the blaring sounds of your alarm rung painfully in your ears, you reached over to the bedside table and looked at your phone screen (basically getting flashbanged as you forgot you didn't turn down the brightness last night). It was still early in the morning but you still had tasks to care of and a job to do.
You turn off the alarm and sit up from the bed, wincing as you take a big stretch. You're ready to actually stand up and start the day until an arm wraps around your midsection, forcing you back down onto the bed with a yelp.
Your back hits Miguel's chest as he cages you, his face buries itself into the crook of your neck. "Stay, s'early..." You can hear him mumble, hot breath tickling your skin and it sends a tingle up your spine. You giggle, your hand moving down to the ones that he has firmly digging into your belly.
"No matter what I say, you're going to keep me here anyway."
"Mhm. Just surrender."
You mumble out a small "okay" as you properly settle back into his warmth, a small hum escapes his throat as you can feel his nose digging into his neck and lips pressing the back of your shoulder.
Time seems to pass by slowly, surprisingly enough you're used to this. You barely get to see Miguel some days due to the nature of his job however the moment that you're together again, it all feels so heavenly.
Your train of thought is interrupted when you feel a shift of movement, Miguel maneuvers your body so that you're now facing him.
Only now do you get to see how cute he looks. His regularly slicked backed hair all messy, stray hair strands falling onto his forehead. Lips curled into a small pout and eyes lidded as it seems like he's staring into your soul or something.
"Corazón," He breathes out, your fingers move to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes at the deep bags that formed under his eyes. "Can I kiss you?"
You let your actions speak for you as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his. One of the hands that he wrapped around your waist moves to your hair like always, fingers combing out the locks as the kiss continues to deepen.
Once you two finally part, a small grin makes itself present on your face and on his as well.
You realized now that whatever jobs you had, whatever lives you two lived didn't matter as long as both of you were happy. A thought intensified as he pulled you in for another kiss.
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bahablastplz · 5 months
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Snap: Minho x Reader x Jisung
After your boyfriend decides to punish you by not touching you for two weeks, you take matters into your own hands. There's one way to make him snap, and that is Han Jisung. Content: Smut. That's it. Warnings: Heavy degradation, humiliation, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, choking, complicated feelings WC: 3500
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You should have known not to test your boyfriend. 
Your boyfriend Minho is one of the best things that has ever happened to you. He is sweet, kind, forgiving, and so so patient with you. 
Ever since you have been dating, he has done an amazing job to make sure you feel loved, whether that be through smaller gestures like baking food with you or writing notes, or buying you flowers and taking you out on the best dates of your life. He is thoughtful and caring, and you both love each other very much. 
The other great thing about Minho is this other side of the world he has helped you to explore… sexually, that is. He introduced you to the world of doms and subs and your relationship has absolutely thrived on that dynamic. Because for that gentle, loving and caring boyfriend that you get to see during the day… you also get to see the exact opposite. Minho, who will take no bullshit. Minho, who can edge you for hours on end and knows exactly which buttons to push to get you to fall apart for him. Minho, who can wrap his hand around your throat and whisper the filthiest, most vulgar things in your ears to try to get you to submit to him. 
Lee Minho, your boyfriend, is an enigma. Better yet, he is yours.
Which is why you know that you can get away with pushing him to his limits the same way that he pushes you to yours. 
That’s sort of how you got yourself into your current situation. 
 Because, maybe one day you decided to push him, and he might have caught you touching yourself in your bed when you weren’t supposed to. And when he tried to give you your punishment, you had an orgasm without his permission. Fast forward to your new punishment: He hasn’t touched you in two weeks. 
Sometimes, you feel like your boyfriend has turned you into a sex-craved machine. But, who can blame you? It’s not your fault that your boyfriend has a body sculpted by the Gods and an even sexier personality. You swore on your life you would never beg and be desperate for a man. And then came Minho. 
During the past two weeks, you have felt absolutely deprived and horny out of your goddamn mind. He knew it, too. He saw the way that you would squeeze your legs together whenever he sat next to you, the way you would squirm, the way that your eyes would get blown out and your breathing heavy… and he didn’t even have to touch you. It was a mind game, and you were losing badly. 
So, that’s how you came up with your awful idea; push Minho to the breaking point and watch him snap. It was a win/win, really. Not only would your punishment end, but maybe you could get him angry enough to have the rough, hard, toe-curling sex you’ve been craving. You just needed to wait for the right opportunity… and it practically fell into your lap. 
Movie night with Han Jisung. 
Jisung is Minho’s best friend. The two are practically inseparable, bonded with a connection deeper than words could describe. Of course, Jisung was at one point one of your best friends as well, as he was the one that introduced you to your boyfriend in the first place. That’s how you know that the way to get to Minho is through Jisung. 
It started with making dinner, the three of you. It’s a weekly tradition, Friday nights eating homemade dinner and watching cheesy movies. This week is your pick, too. It was almost like all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. 
You laugh at Jisung’s jokes. Of course, Minho laughs too, but you make a point to laugh harder than you should, slapping your hand onto his shoulder. “Jisung, you are so funny,” you laugh. “I forgot how funny you are. We should hang out more!” 
That causes the man to let out a shy chuckle, throwing his hand behind his head sheepishly. You look over at your boyfriend and smile at him brightly. 
That night, you make sure to leave lingering touches on Jisung’s body. You reach into the popcorn bowl at the same time as him, grazing his knuckles with your fingers. You swipe a piece of stray hair behind his ear. You even drape your legs across his lap completely during the movie. It always leads to a light laugh from him and a blush that spreads across his cheeks, his eyes flickering to Minho’s for approval. Of course, Minho was never looking at him. 
He was looking at you. 
His eyes bore into yours all night, eyes hard and mouth set into a straight line. You really, truly couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But you make a show of looking at him for a reaction every time and smiling at him with big, bright eyes. 
That night, for your movie choice you made sure to pick the raunchiest, sexiest chick flick that you could find. So of course, when a sex scene started playing you shifted your position. Switching the direction of your body, you put your legs on Minho’s lap and your head on Jisung’s thigh, looking up at him with a bright smile. You admire his bright red cheeks, obviously flushed from the situation at hand. 
“Isn’t this a good movie, Sungie?” You giggle, nustling your head against his thigh. That is the breaking point. 
Minho’s hand reaches across the table, snatching the remote. The TV turns off, causing you and Jisung to turn your heads to look at him. 
“Enough,” he said in a low timbre. 
“What?” you ask innocently. That’s when Minho grabbed the flesh of your thigh hard, kneading the muscle. You gasp when he does so, not expecting the action. His hand trails higher and cups your clothed pussy. 
That was something else… you had put on one of the most revealing outfits you owned, clad with a tight tank-top and miniskirt. This gives Minho easy access to slip his hand right where you need him most. 
“Minho, what are you–” 
“Shhh. If you’re going to act like a needy slut, then you’re going to fucking take it.” Your face goes completely red. While you were expecting him to snap, you thought he was going to drag you to your room and fuck the shit out of you. Not in the living room, while your head rests on Jisung’s lap. 
Your eyes shoot up to Jisung’s, who has been staring at you unabashedly this whole time. When your eyes meet, he clears his throat. 
“Um… I should probably go,” he says, making to stand up. 
“Don’t.” Minho’s voice is sharp, causing you both to freeze. At the same time, he slides your panties to the side and thrusts a finger into your core, causing your body to rock back into Jisung. You let out a loud moan–after weeks, you’re finally getting the contact you’ve been desperately craving. Jisung’s hands make way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he looks at Minho. 
“You’re gonna act like you haven’t been loving my girlfriend touching up on you and flirting with you all night? God, it’s so obvious, Sungie,” he laughs, continuing his ministrations and now thrusting two finger in and out of your sopping core. “She’s been acting like a needy, desperate slut for us, though, so I think we should treat her like one, yeah?” 
Jisung gulps. “We? Minho, I–” 
“You want to fuck her, Sungie? You can fuck her tight cunt, she’ll love it, too. And when you’re done, I’m gonna fuck her harder… I’m gonna fuck her better and fill her up so she knows who her pussy really belongs to.” You moan at his words, squirming around trying to get away from the way his fingers bully into your cunt. 
“Please… Jisung,” you say, looking up at him. “Want you to fuck me, too.” And you truly do. You can see the way your boyfriend is getting off on it, the way that he wants to prove to you that he is better. Somehow you could just tell that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. 
“Yeah, okay. Fuck,” Jisung breaths. 
“Pull down her shirt,” Minho instructs. Jisung immediately follows his directions, as if in a trance, revealing your bare chest to the two men. “Play with her nipples. Pinch them, she likes that.” The feeling of Jisung’s thumbs pinching and pulling harshly against your nipples has you breathless and moaning, because this person touching you wasn’t your boyfriend. It felt so wrong, but with your boyfriend’s attention still on your leaking pussy and his eyes never leaving yours, it felt so right. 
“Fuck, she’s clenching so tight on my fingers,” Minho tells Jisung. “She likes you playing with her, I can feel her getting close.” 
“Yeah?” Jisung stares down and looks at your face, fucked out, and you look at him fucked out out of your mind. Lips parted and eyes glossy, your eyes didn’t leave his. He looked at you with utter adoration, never stopping his motions on your chest. 
“Min, Min… Cumming, fuck,” you breath. Your boyfriend keeps a steady pace, finger fucking you right through your orgasm. As Jisung slows his pace, rubbing slower on your nipples, he pulls off with a harsh tug. 
You sit up, putting your pressure on your arms as you look at Minho who slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt. Revealing his fingers, he shows Jisung how soaked his fingers are. 
“Want to taste her sweet cunt?” Minho asks with a devilish smirk. Jisung nods his head with doe eyes. 
Minho reaches past your body and extends his hand to Jisung, offering the boy his two fingers. You watch as Jisung parts his lips, Minho sliding the appendage inside. You clench your thighs together at the loud slurping and soft whimper that this elicits from his mouth, eyes shut as he tastes your release. Minho’s gaze hardens, watching him with predatory eyes. When he pulls his fingers out from his mouth, a long string of saliva connects his fingers to Jisung’s mouth, dripping down onto your bare chest. The action makes both you and Jisung moan softly. 
Minho stands, maneuvering your body to the position he wants you in. He puts you on your hands and knees on the couch, ass up and hanging over the edge for easy access. He pulls your underwear down around your knees but keeps the skirt on, opting to flip it up over your body instead. You feel used like this, shirt bunched down around your waist and panties not even fully off your body yet. 
“Come fuck her pussy,” Minho says to Jisung. He stands up fast, moving behind you to position himself at your entrance. Here he has a full view of your cunt, still soaked and glistening from your release. He lets out a shaky breath and looks at Minho for permission, who stands over you and looks down at you. You look up at him almost pathetically, giving him a weak smile. He smirks at you, practically cooing as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Go on,” he says, his voice suddenly turning sharp as he addresses Jisung. “I’m not going to tell you twice.” 
You don’t see Jisung pull his pants down but you feel him poke at your entrance, his tip leaking as he rubs it up and down your folds. You rock your hips back, desperate for the pressure, and hiss when he finally enters you. As soon as he does, he stills, breathing heavy behind you. 
“Fuck… so tight,” he says, more to Minho than to you. He gives a cat-like smirk and gestures for the boy to continue. And so Jisung starts, slowly rocking his hips into you. He grinds up against your ass each time, a grip bruising right on your hips. 
Minho sits down on the couch now in front of you. Here he can look right into your eyes, his gaze harsher than you had ever seen before. 
“Look at you getting your slutty pussy fucked by my friend,” he coos. It feels condescending, and you tilt your head down to look toward the couch when you feel his fingers underneath your chin. He pulls you up to meet his eyes, fingers pinching your cheeks to part your mouth open for him. “Do you know how long he’s been waiting to fuck you for? It’s almost pathetic. He’s wanted your sweet cunt for so long but he could never have it, could he?” You shake your head at him, and Jisung whines from behind you, increasing his pace. 
As Jisung goes harder and you start approaching your release, you look up at Minho with tears pricking your eyes. 
“Close?” He coos. You nod your head. “You gonna cum on his cock?” 
“Please,” you grunt out. “Please Minho.” 
“Go ahead, then.” And it's not until Minho brings your face to his in a wet, messy kiss that you finally finish. You moan into his mouth and he drinks it up, his tongue pushing against yours and into your mouth. Jisung becomes more vocal as well, whiny moans and heavy breathing as he fucks you through your orgasm. 
Minho pulls you off of his lips harshly, looking at his friend behind you. Jisung looks absolutely wrecked and Minho knows it won’t take long to push him over his edge as well. 
“Is her tight pussy clenching around you good?” He asks. He looks at his friend with a proud smirk. Jisung nods, eyes closed and head thrown back. “As good as you imagined? Wanna tell me how good her pussy feels?” 
“S’good,” he says. “So warm and wet… so tight, fuck…” 
Minho stands, walking over to Jisung. He lifts your skirt higher, revealing your bare ass to Jisung. “Go ahead and paint her ass, if you’re gonna cum,” he tells him. 
And with a few more thrusts and a soft ‘fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he pulls out and covers your ass with him cum. You’re covered in it, as he came a lot, and it starts dripping down your body. Minho scoops some of Jisung’s release with two fingers and brings them to your mouth, your lips automatically parting for him. You lick it off of his fingers, looking at him. You’re floating into a soft subspace and he can see it, utterly and completely submissive for him now. You’re pliant and completely at his command. He looks down at you with dark eyes. 
“My turn,” he says. Him and Jisung switch places, promptly. Jisung stares at you with wide eyes and watches your face, the way that you moan when Minho slips into you easily. 
His pace is brutal from the start, his hips snapping into yours relentlessly, his thighs making a loud wet sound as they slap against the backs of yours. A hand grabs at your hair, yanking you upwards to look at Jisung; he gasps when he sees you, mouth wide open and tears streaming down your face as you let out a sob. It’s too much, the overstimulation, the way Minho’s long cock kisses your cervix at every thrust. And he uses the hand in your hair to control you, pulling you back onto his cock with his strong grip. 
“Fuck…ing… pussy… so… good… for… me…,” Minho enunciates with every snap of his hips. 
You’re babbling at this point, too far gone to form any coherent words. “Min… oh my… fuck,” you say. “Jisung, Sungie…” you cry out at one point, his eyes never leaving yours. Even though he’s no longer participating he still watches intently, his lips parted in a soft ‘o’. 
“What are you calling his name for?” Minho taunts. “I’m the one fucking this cunt, not him. Are you so braindead that you don’t know who’s cock you’re calling out for?” 
“No… Min,” you answer. 
“Good, I’m gonna cum in this greedy pussy,” he says. “Only I can fill you up. Only I can breed your filthy cunt,” he says. “Say… fuck, say my name when you cum on my cock, baby.” 
And you do, because your release comes out of nowhere. With a loud cry you’re calling, no, screaming his name, clenching around him impossibly tight. Your orgasm seems to last forever, and you know he can feel the way you’re spasming around him with every thrust. 
When his hand snakes around and grabs the front of your throat, you know he’s close. His hand squeezes tight and you feel dizzy and light-headed, but this floaty feeling has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 
Minho must be completely gone now, no longer spewing filthy words. He doesn’t say anything as he finally cums inside, grabbing your hips so tight that it’s sure to leave a mark. He stills against you and you can feel his hot release flood you, his cock twitching as he grinds impossibly deeper into your ass, as if he were trying to get his cum as far into you as he can, as if he were trying to mark you as his. 
When he releases his grip on you your body slumps onto the couch. Suddenly you’re weak all over and your body feels limp, vision starting to blur as you look up at Jisung. You notice a large wet stain on his pants, and you realize he must’ve cum again, simply from watching you get fucked within an inch of your life. You let out a soft chuckle and reach for his hand, your fingers weakly intertwining with his and giving him a soft squeeze. 
Arms are scooping you up in an instant, and you open your eyes to see your boyfriend carrying you in his arms, bridal style. 
“I’m going to get her into the bath,” he tells Jisung. 
“Okay. I should… I’m probably going to leave,” he says, voice riddled with uncertainty. 
“You don’t have to,” he replies. You can hear the softness in his tone, the fondness for his best friend coming through in his words. “You don’t have to,” he repeats. 
And though he’s no longer using that domineering tone that had you and Jisung submitting to him in an instant, Jisung still listens to his words. You shoot Jisung a shy smile and wave your fingers at him as you’re carried off into the bathroom. 
Minho is ever the attentive lover, humming as he sits next to you beside the tub. He scrubs your skin gently, rubbing soothing circles into your sore muscles. He pays careful attention when shampooing your hair, making sure not to get any of the soap into your eyes. Your boyfriend Minho is one of the best things that has ever happened to you. He is sweet, kind, forgiving, and so so patient with you. In this moment you’re reminded of that fact, and you feel a twinge of guilt when you’re reminded of the way you acted earlier. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. It’s the first words you’ve spoken since after you had sex. They’re barely loud enough to hear, but you know your words haven’t fallen upon deaf ears when he lets out a soft sigh. 
“You have nothing to apologize for, love,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for dragging out your punishment for too long. I know you were trying to rile me up and get on my nerves… and it worked. Not for the reason that I thought though. I thought that… I thought that Jisung touching you would make me mad, but the more I thought about it… fuck, the thought of sharing with him what’s mine, to show him ‘this is my beautiful girlfriend that makes me feel so good…’ It was so hot, baby. And I wanted him to touch you. I wanted him to make you feel good, too. He looked so fucked out, and I liked that it was us that made him feel like that, y’know?” 
You smile softly at him. “Min, can I ask you a question?” 
He hums in response. 
“Do you… have feelings for him?” He doesn’t meet your eye, and that’s all the answer that you need. You know that outloud, at least right now, he could never truly admit it, but he didn’t have to. “It’s okay,” you reassure. “Nobody’s faulting you if you do. We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” 
Minho wraps you in a towel and dries your skin. His eyes are full of adoration for you. Before you walk into your bedroom, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. 
That night, the three of you fall asleep in your bed. There’s no discussion to be had about how this complicates your relationship. There’s no words exchanged, there’s no awkward eye contact, and there are no bad thoughts that cloud your mind as you drift to sleep. You listen to Jisung’s soft snoring and the pitter patter of Minho’s heartbeat. You fall asleep warm, intertwined with many limbs, and with a soft smile on your face.  *** Part 2/4 of the threesome series ;) Hope y'all enjoyed Masterlist Recs
Taglist: @lolareadsimagines / let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series
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pluckyredhead · 11 months
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What the heck is going on in Batman/Gotham War?
I know a lot of people in fandom are confused and/or upset about what's been going on in Gotham War - why is Bruce acting like this, what is Selina doing, why are the Batkids taking sides. So I figured I would fill you all in on what's been happening in Batman and Catwoman since Chip Zdarsky took over with Batman #125, because it has been BONKERS and I have been enjoying the hell out of it.
Below, the quickest summary I can manage while still being comprehensive:
[Content warning: mental illness, abuse, suicide (...ish), LOTS of violence.]
The first arc, "Failsafe," starts with Batman and Robin (Tim, in this case) in pursuit of the Penguin, who is on a killing spree. In the very first issue, Tim gets shot in the neck. Bruce has to take him to the hospital, but first he has to strip him out of his costume and put him in civilian clothes to preserve their secret identities, triggering memories of when he had to do the same to Jason's dead body. There is LITERALLY NO PURPOSE TO ANY OF THIS EXCEPT WHUMP (Tim is back in action with a fucking BAND-AID on his neck very quickly), which is how I knew this was going to be good. Beat Tim up! Make Bruce cry about Jason! I want these men to suffer! (There is also SO much to be said about Tim's own Poor Mental Health Decisions throughout the entirety of Zdarsky's run so far, but that's for a separate meta post.)
Anyway. Bruce leaves Tim in the hospital and goes to confront Penguin, who turns out to be dying of mercury poisoning. He kills himself and makes it look like Batman did it, forcing Bruce to flee. (Penguin actually faked his death and is alive elsewhere under an alias, but that's not important right now.)
In the Batcave, a massive robot called Failsafe emerges. Failsafe attacks Bruce, who usually eats killer robots for breakfast, but he can't seem to get the upper hand on this one. Duke, Cass, Steph, and Dick show up to help, but Failsafe beats them all too, while Tim gets an injured Bruce away and to the Batcave.
In the Batcave, Bruce puts on a weird purple and red Batman costume and a new personality takes over: the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. Now, Zur has a very complicated history going back to 1958, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that when he was younger, Bruce decided it would be good to hang out in a sensory deprivation chamber until his mind created a secondary personality, Zur, who is essentially Batman without Bruce. Zur is pure efficiency who does not care about anything but the mission. He created Failsafe, for one purpose: to kill Bruce if Bruce ever crossed the line and killed someone. And right now, Failsafe believes that Bruce killed Penguin.
Failsafe nearly kills Tim, which Zur is okay with writing off as an expendable soldier's death, but this causes Bruce to take control of the body back because "Tim isn't my soldier...HE'S MY SON!" (Tim Nation, why are you not ALL OVER this story? It's catnip.)
Babs calls in the JLA (SuperBat fans, you will also want to read Bruce's adoring description of Clark when he shows up), but of course Failsafe has kryptonite, which it stabs Clark with. The League dumps Clark and Bruce into the JLA jet and distracts Failsafe while Tim flies Clark and Bruce to the Fortress of Solitude. Bruce tells Tim he's a good boy and jumps out of the jet and into the ocean so that Tim and Clark will be safe from Failsafe. He's rescued by Arthur, who takes him to Atlantis to heal. THIS HAS ALL ONLY BEEN FOUR ISSUES SO FAR.
Two weeks later, Bruce wakes up to discover that Failsafe has taken over Gotham. He teleports up to the JLA Watchtower on the moon to lure Failsafe there, then blows the Watchtower up, hoping to catch a ride on one of the Javelins. But Failsafe has already destroyed them, so Bruce RIDES A BOOSTER ROCKET BACK TO EARTH, OXYGEN MASK CLAPPED OVER HIS FACE. The whole thing has some powerful Scooty-Puff Jr energy.
The only tricky part is reentry, when Bruce starts to burn up - his costume is fireproof, of course, but his chin is exposed. SO HE TAKES OFF HIS LITTLE BAT-PANTIES AND PUTS THEM OVER HIS HEAD. I swear to god this happened in a real comic book and the entire "Bruce falls off the moon and survives" sequence is utterly delectable goofy nonsense and I truly cannot recall a time I've had more fun reading a comic book.
Anyway, Bruce lands directly outside of the Fortress, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES, and runs inside to find Clark and Tim. While Clark keeps Failsafe distracted, Bruce and Tim program nanobots to inject compassion into Failsafe. I SWEAR TO GOD. They zap him with the nanobots, but Failsafe pulls a high tech space gun out of the Fortress and shoots Bruce with it anyway, apparently disintegrating him. Tim falls to his knees in the snow, weeping. TIM NATION, WAKE UP, THIS RUN IS CANDY FOR YOU.
But of course Bruce isn't dead! That wasn't a killing gun, it was a "zap you into another dimension" gun!!! THAT was the compassion!
So Bruce finds himself in a dystopian alternate Gotham, and I'll be honest, I didn't love this arc ("The Bat-Man of Gotham") as much as I loved "Failsafe," but it has its moments. In this Gotham, Bruce Wayne is dead, so Regular Bruce is like "Oh boy, time to Batman this place up." Also he's plagued by hallucinations of a skeleton version of Jim Gordon who is still wearing a trench coat AND A MUSTACHE. Like I said, it has its moments.
This Gotham is controlled by Arkham, and anyone who is diagnosed as "crazy" is locked up. A new villain, Red Mask, is in charge, and Selina and a Venomed-up Harvey Dent work for him. Bruce teams up with an orphan kid (of course) named Jewel and goes after Red Mask, who turns out to be some guy named Darwin Halliday and ALSO...the Joker. Well, he's the Joker who hasn't been Jokerized yet. But one time he breathed in some chemicals that let him see into the main reality of the DCU (???) and glimpsed Regular Joker and now he wants to build an interdimensional machine to mentally connect with Regular Joker across universes which he assumes will make him insane, NATURALLY.
Bruce attacks Red Mask, who sics a Venomed-up Ghost Maker on him. Ghost Maker cuts off Bruce's right hand. Bruce cauterizes it with an electroshock machine and ties some spikes on it (SERIOUSLY) and goes after Red Mask again. Meanwhile Red Mask mentally connects with an alternate dimensional Joker...but instead of it driving Red Mask insane, he's what drives the Joker insane. Desperate to become the Joker somehow, anyhow, he jumps into the interdimensional portal, and Morally Dubious Alternate Universe Selina kicks Bruce in after him.
Meanwhile, Tim is in full "I KNOW I SAW HIM DIE BUT HE'S NOT DEAD" mode, which: bless. So he teams up with Jon Kent, which...gosh, what an astonishingly boring duo. I love Jon, I love Tim, they're perfectly nice and normal around each other, I'm falling asleep. Anyway Tim fights Toyman for a while and then makes a VERY stupid costume where the entire torso is a giant light-up R, because "I want him to see that Robin is coming to save him." GET A THERAPY, TIM.
Bruce finds himself first in the Michael Keaton Batman universe, then the Red Rain universe, BTAS, Batman Beyond (yes I know they're the same universe but I guess he goes there twice), Silver Age, Kingdom Come, Gotham by Gaslight, and more. Adam West gives him a utility belt. The Dark Knight Returns Bruce builds him a robot hand.
Finally Bruce and Red Mask reach the end of the multiverse, which is a Gotham asteroid floating in space, surrounded by giant Jokerized sharks. LUCKILY BRUCE HAS BAT-SHARK REPELLANT IN HIS ADAM WEST UTILITY BELT!!! Honestly this whole arc was worth it for that moment.
Bruce knocks Red Mask out, but now he's stuck. He has a device from Batman Beyond Bruce to get home, but it's only good for one person, and he can't leave Red Mask there to die. Of course, that's when Tim shows up in his stupid giant glowing R costume and they hug it out, thereby fulfilling but also compounding all of Tim's issues since 1989.
Anyway things are fine now, right? Sure, Bruce is hallucinating that his family is on fire, and the Zur personality is not going neatly back into the box where it's been all these years, and he still has a robot hand (Damian, hilariously, immediately announces that he wants one too), but he's FINE. He is a little bit mad at Selina, because she broke out of jail (she was in jail because she killed her fuckbuddy because he was trying to kill Bruce), and also because she didn't tell him Penguin was alive and that would have stopped Failsafe, and also because Other Selina kicked into another universe. Selina, very fairly, is like "Well I'm not responsible for Other Selinas and also maybe don't build robots to kill yourself with and not tell anyone about them???"
THEN we got Knight Terrors, the summer event in which a villain called Nightmare caused everyone to fall asleep and, uh, have nightmares. Bruce, specifically, had a nightmare that he met an eight-year-old version of himself that vomited up a man-sized bat with a gun for a head. I laughed SO HARD. Bruce also had his body borrowed by Deadman for the duration of the event, so while he endured the psychological toll of nightmares like everyone else, he also endured the physical toll of everything Deadman was doing PLUS the mental toll of being aware of what was happening in the waking world even though he couldn't control his body. As soon as the event was over, he lapsed into a coma so that his body could get some damn rest.
Okay. Now we're up to Gotham War.
(I know, I know. But for all of you who are like "How could Bruce do this???" about Gotham War...*points up* THAT'S HOW. HE IS NOT WELL.)
Bruce awakens from his coma and IMMEDIATELY decides to Fight A Crime even though Babs is like "Maybe don't?" But he can't find any crime, which is...weird. His kids confirm that Gotham's been super quiet since he's been out.
Selina hears that Bruce is awake and is like okay, time to pay the piper. She calls all of the Bats to a meeting and explains that she's the reason crime has been down. See, villains like Joker and Two-Face always have goons, right? But what if the goon supply dried up because the goons have better jobs? So Selina has trained All The Goons In Gotham to be...cat burglars. No violence, no stealing from anyone who can't afford it. More importantly, no helping Scarecrow or whoever commit mass murder.
All of the Batkids are like "Hmm...I feel uncertain about this, but it's working...I don't know what to think..." except for Jason, who thinks it's hilarious and is instantly Team Selina, and Damian, who is staunchly Team Bruce. Bruce, meanwhile, is like "No! NO! THIS IS CRIMES, AND CRIMES IS BAD!" and Selina's like "I mean, robbing from the rich is basically a victimless crime" and Bruce screams, I swear to god, "MY PARENTS WERE 'RICH'!" Inexplicable scare quotes and all. I laughed so hard.
Anyway this is the basis for Gotham War and it is endlessly hilarious to me because everyone in the Batfamily is supposed to be a genius and yet not one single character has pointed out that:
There are jobs the goons could be doing that AREN'T illegal. It's not just violent crime vs. nonviolent crime. There are in fact many other jobs! I am POSITIVE Gotham needs construction workers and hospital orderlies. (Yes, I know it's hard for people with records to get jobs. That isn't addressed.)
Being Batman is SUPER ILLEGAL.
They are all so stupid.
Selina's plan doesn't even work, because one of her thieves gets killed by a rich person defending their home, and Bruce is like "See? This is why crime is bad!" and like...pretty much snaps. He's particularly fixated on Jason, even (rhetorically) threatening to kill him, which is when the other kids jump into the fray on Jason's side, all except for Damian, who like I said is firmly Team Bruce. (This makes complete sense to me, Damian has been dealing with severe trauma and isolation pretty much nonstop since 2018 and he and Bruce have finally made a tenuous peace, so I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose that.)
Also, Vandal Savage buys Wayne Manor. It's so random and SO funny.
OKAY BATMAN #138. Bruce has kidnapped Jason and injected him with a variation on fear toxin which will be triggered whenever Jason's adrenaline spikes, the idea being that Jason is no longer capable of killing - but in practice, Jason is no longer capable of even getting up off the floor, he's so terrified. I want to be really, really clear here: Bruce is like 90% Zur here, and the only reason he goes this route and doesn't kill Jason is because the remaining 10% that's still Bruce loves Jason and is trying to help him. He's just incapable of good or humane help because Zur literally can't do feelings.
Dick knows something is up and is sneaking around Bruce's Secret Other House We've Never Heard Of to figure out what it is. Damian attacks him to protect Bruce. Tim attacks Damian so that Dick can do what he needs to do, and handcuffs Damian to a parking meter:
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THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE!!! TIM GO TO THERAPY! DAMIAN GO TO THERAPY! EVERYONE GO TO THERAPY!!!!!
Dick figures out what Bruce did to Jason (it's on the computer, for...some reason?) and absolutely loses his shit on Bruce, beating the crap out of him, which tbh is the only thing that felt off to me in this run because frankly I don't think Dick likes Jason that much. BUT WHATEVER.
Tim pulls Dick off of Bruce. Bruce leaves them both tangled in a net and flees as the cops approach. Zur's like "Good, fuck 'em" in Bruce's head, because the cops will expose Dick, Tim, and Damian's secret identities and Bruce will be free of the dead weight of a family, but the little bit of Bruce still in there throws Dick a batarang so he can free them all in time.
Then Bruce leaves. Damian is devastated.
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I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS PAGE. Damian really thought he could have Bruce's love and loyalty if he turned on everyone else! Tim is going to be a therapy dog to a Wayne even if he has to settle for the one he doesn't like! That unresisting, blank hug made me SCREAM when I turned the page. Incredible. (Also the art fucking S L A P S, god bless you Jorge Jimenez.)
ALSO it turns out that Selina's second in command has been Vandal Savage's daughter Scandal Savage the whole time and they are turning Selina's cat burglar army into their own personal army WHOOPS. (This also feels very OOC for Scandal but at this point I trust Zdarsky with my life so let's see where things go.)
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SO THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON IN GOTHAM WAR. TL;DR:
Bruce is unhinged because he nearly died like 19 times in a week and it unlocked the smaller, meaner purple Batman that lives inside him.
Selina is unaware that you can get money legally.
Tim is going to have a nervous breakdown if he can't fix someone, ANYONE.
Damian needs a hug but ideally from someone he actually likes this time.
Jason is so scared.
THE END.
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andersonfilms · 10 months
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†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, sexual content (alluding), jock!abby, soft!abby, simp!abby, stubborn!reader, abby being a tease. part one.
jock!abby patience was wearing incredibly thin. she was always having to share you with ellie and she despised the situation just like the fucking brat — the one who demanded all your time and attention. okay, so maybe she was being a bit needy, and really the two of you hadn’t really said you were exclusive, but abby wasn’t with anyone else and didn’t want to be. she was stupidly sweet on you, and the sex was amazing. you were worth it for her to fight a little more.
jock!abby caved when it’s been an entire month and all she got were longing texts from you. saying you missed her but with classes, trying to keep your head above water, and ellie, you just didn’t simply have the time right now. although, abby blushed when you confessed she was important to you and you would see her soon. it’s the only time she’s thankful the interaction is filtered through a screen.
jock!abby called you the night before the game, she was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to, but with you on the forefront of her mind it seemed nearly impossible. she was embarrassed, your phone ringing four times, no answer. but on the fifth, you finally picked up. she thought you were ignoring her, avoiding her at the very least. but then you’re honeyed voice drips all over her heart and now it truly feels like the first day of spring.
“You should be sleeping, Abs. You have such an early day tomorrow and you need rest.” “I know, I just-” Abby took a moment to breathe, trying to calm herself enough to not reveal herself as a totally pathetic loser. “I’m so tense, baby. How am I supposed to sleep?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what has you so…tense.” You question suggestively, your voice lowering an octave. “Well, I haven’t see you in a month, so there’s that.” Abby hints, and you pick up on it immediately. “There’s a line of girls on this campus who would love to ease the tension for you. Pick one, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go far.” Your tone is bitter, thinking of her with someone else, but you don’t have much room to feel jealousy. Not when Ellie would feel like you stabbed her in the back if she found out about your late night rendezvous with Abby. “Stop it.” Abby barked. “What?” “You’re honestly going to make me say it? When you’re the one who’s been avoiding me? Really going to make me beg for it, baby?” You snap. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” It’s useless now. Abby has you pinned. Honestly, you’re not even upset about it. “You don’t have to lie me. I already know what you want.” “Fine, I’ll bite. What do I want, Abby?” “You want to not like me, right? It’d be easier wouldn’t it? I bet it would. But you like me, sure as hell love fucking me, and that can’t sit well. Not when I’m the enemy, not when I’m so evil and cruel.” You were silent, only heavy breathing could be heard on the phone. “Just tell me to fuck off, tell me I’m mean, tell me I’m the worst and I’ll hang up and you won’t have to talk to me again.” Abby continues, as if she needs to say anymore. “Be a good girl for Ellie, baby. It’s why you’ve deprived me of your pussy, huh? Tell me you don’t want to feel my lips, my tongue, my fingers. Be a good fucking girl and say it.” You were biting your lip, a moan threatening to escape. Pathetic. “I-I don’t, this isn’t…” You choke up, and god you can practically see her grinning. “You don’t want me?” Abby teased. “It’s….god, please Abs.” “You fall asleep in my arms, but then ditch before I can wake up. You don’t wanna see me but text me for weeks how much you miss me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me what you want.” You’re trying to get something out, anything but you can’t seem to form a thought when Abby keeps going on and on, your cunt clenching every time you hear her voice. You’re forgetting why you’ve kept your distance in the first place. “I wanna make you feel good, help with the tension. Baby, please let me.” She finally breaks you, but the both you are smiling and Abby’s light laughter edges into the small cracks of your heart. “Mmmm, baby. Tell me how good it feels to be fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of my voice. Don't even bother lying this time.”
jock!abby thinks about your breathy moans, the wet sounds of your cunt bouncing through the mic and into her ears. she loves hearing you moan her name out, you’re so desperate for her. so willing to be whatever she wants you too even if it will cost you. abby feels bad, but then she sees you and suddenly she doesn’t care what kind of karma comes her way. if she gets to have you, isn’t it worth the cost?
jock!abby isn’t surprised when you’re knocking on her door three days later. it’s clear what you want or at least she thinks so. it’s almost midnight and abby thought you just want to fuck. she’d be more than happy to oblige. she’d pretty much do anything. you’re as sweet as they get, more than she deserves, but she takes it anyways.
jock!abby catches you with her unwavering strength, your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms locked around neck. you’re whispering how bad you need her, how much you’ve missed her, how shitty your week has been, and the only thing getting you through was telling her all about it. so, she lets you. it’s foolish maybe, but abby can only think with her heart right now, and it really wants to be with you.
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Mornings with BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons
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✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨
*sighs in still doesn’t know what “skibidi” means* Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.
A/N: hope these are still fun to read! Icons are by me! All interaction-especially commentary- are super appreciated!! Enjoy!
Content Warnings: it gets a little steamy in here- very much 18+, one use of French (yes that’s warning), Dean being Dean
( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
-so first off, dean like pretty much doesn’t sleep
-like he’ll get six hours and feel like he overslept
-so he’ll either fall asleep with you and wake up far to early, or stay up so he can wake up at a normal time
-although sometimes his sleep deprivation catches up with him and he’ll sleep for like 10 hours and he’ll let you baby him and just be a sleepy little (big) guy for a couple days
-but thats a little rarer. He doesn’t mind laying around though, he’d watch paint dry so long as it was next to you
-now, boo bear gets morning wood. A lot. He’ll never wake you up over it- he wants you to get the sleep you need- but it’s a very common occurrence.
-even if you are awake at similar times, he never expects you to take care of it and is usually already half to the bathroom
-but that simply won’t do, and you’ll grab his arm and tell him you wanna take care of it, and who is he to say no??
-and so he’ll gently tease the blankets off of you and climb over you, those huge arms on either side of your head
-if you’re wearing clothes he’ll be kissing sweetly everywhere he exposes new skin
-and then he’ll just gently thrust into you, far enough that you’re full and then a little bit more, teasing your sweetest spot
-usually sex with him is rough (but good, too good), but instead of vying for or denying orgasms, in the mornings he just slowly coaxes one out of you
-he likes to see you babble, taking you apart until you’re a gooey precious mess
-his low voice morphs into a molasses-sweet drawl, praise dripping from those plush pink lips. He’ll kiss you everywhere, smiling down at you and wondering how and why he got so lucky
-and eventually he’ll get a release out of you and one for him, making his second favorite type of pie
-and he’ll roll over, snuggling you close, kissing you on the forehead
-and it’s all just so soft
-eventually you’ll both get up and shower, and sometimes he’ll coax a second (and maybe third) petit mort out of you :)
-he’s super clingy in the mornings so if it’s a slow morning where you two can share a shower he’s going to insist on washing your hair and massaging your tenseness away, and you’ll do the same because how could you not take opportunity to touch those freckled shoulders???
-you really only get out once the water gets cold or if Sam starts banging on the door
-the mornings where you also get time for breakfast are a real treat, cause in addition to being a sex god Dean is a god in the kitchen
-he’ll make you literally whatever you want, and his breakfast specialty is cinnamon rolls. Not the kind from the can (though those are still perfect) but literally from scratch, icing and all
-if you cook with him, he’s all over you. Pressed up against your ass as you chop whatever needs chopped, holding you close and pressing playful kisses everywhere. He’ll guide your hands sometimes, just so he can hold them. He loves to dance with you in the kitchen as well.
-he takes so much pride in your validation of his cooking so always tell him that he did a good job
-I mean seriously. Every “that’s so yummy!!” gets you the biggest, most radiant, sweetest smile from him.
-we’re talking eyes sparkling like a Disney princess
-he’s a bit of a slut for praise (in many aspects of his life, he can’t help it, the little sweet pea)
-and uh, if your expressions of enjoyment come across in any sexual way (ie moaning because of how good it is) there’s a good chance that he’ll takeopportunity to eat you out. Keep that in mind.
-but usually mornings that can be at home are just soft, snuggly, comfortable occurrences
-and then after you eat you’ll sit and snuggle on the couch with one of his many blankets, watch a show or something because for once you don’t have any where to be
-he’ll either hold you close or just straight up put you on his lap, not wanting to waste a second
-and on those mornings, neither of you would have it any other way
That’s it for now! Feel free to use my ask box if you have ideas for headcanons or one shots!
Xx
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